Stolen: A DI Scott Baker Novel

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Stolen: A DI Scott Baker Novel Page 10

by Jay Nadal


  He needed a few moments to calm down and compose himself. Even though they’d had a good result and detained a key suspect, Ardit Gashi, he along with the rest of the team felt a sense of shock and deflation.

  His thoughts were interrupted by a commotion at the desk as officers wrestled with Ardit Gashi, his protestations met with physical restraint as the officers handcuffed him again.

  Scott strode towards the man, planting his face inches away Gashi’s, staring at him. His eyes bulging with anger that simmered under the surface, ready to explode without warning like a dormant volcano.

  “Who do you think you are?”

  “What you on about?” was the reply in broken English.

  “Just back off,” Scott snarled.

  “I have done nothing,” replied Gashi, smiling.

  Unknown to Scott, the DCI had made her way to custody, stepping in to defuse the situation.

  DCI Harvey nodded to Scott, “In here now!” she barked, directing him to an empty room, closing the door behind them.

  “I think you need to take a moment to calm down, emotions are running high here, Scott. I know how important this case is, but you need to take it easy, okay? You’re a bloody good officer, don’t fuck it up by losing your rag,” she demanded, raising her brows, her arms crossed, reinforcing her instructions. “You got a good result today, focus on that. This won’t be the first or last where a suspect winds you up. You need to remain focussed and professional at all times. Any officer who saw what you saw today would be affected, no doubt about it. But I stress that you need to keep a lid on it, for your sake.” She emphasised her last point, her arms crossed, her stare firm and resolute.

  Rooted to the spot, Scott glared at his DCI. The DCI was right, but he just couldn’t help the feeling bubbling away inside of him. He knew that his emotions were clouding his judgement, and he was running close to the wrong side of the line.

  The poor girls … the poor, poor girls.

  His natural sense of humanity was overpowering his will to seek justice. It was this that was forcing him to make errors.

  “Yes,” was the simple reply he offered before slamming the door behind him.

  Chapter 13

  Both victims were checked over by the Police Doctor, Kelly more cooperative than Sabina. With social services now involved, Scott could get on with the task of extracting vital information and evidence to blow this case apart.

  Whilst Scott completed the paperwork, the rest of the team were beginning a series of critical interviews. Abby and Raj had already started to interview Kelly Southall. Abby agreed to join Scott when he interviewed the other victim found in the house, Sabina Lunga. Mike and Sian would be interviewing Ardit Gashi.

  ***

  The safe suite was a specially designed area within the station where victims of rape and sexual assault were interviewed in privacy and comfort. It was less formal than other parts of the station that would appear uninviting or intimidating for victims: A table and chairs replaced with comfortable armchairs, sofas and cushions; Potted plants, colourful wall prints and soft tones of blue wall paint offered a more calming and reassuring environment for victims.

  Sabine was in a paper suit. Her clothes had been removed for forensic analysis. To Scott she looked scared, her thin frame shaking slightly. She looked numb, her eyes telling a story of hatred, and misery.

  Abby and Scott sat in separate armchairs. A social worker sat with Sabina. She was a middle-aged woman who Scott felt reminded him of a younger Maureen Lipman, with short, slightly wild brown hair, and tinted wide framed glasses. Her narrow lips, blank expression, and thin face made her look cold and unsympathetic. He guessed that she’d no doubt been in this situation many times, to the extent that it didn’t faze her.

  The interview was crucial for their investigation. They could gain invaluable insight into the operation, and bring down the key players.

  “Sabina, you’re in protective custody now and you’re safe. We will be recording this interview on video, is that okay with you?” He looked at her, willing her to cooperate, but she remained silent.

  Abby leant forward, her hands cupped together, “I heard you didn’t want to cooperate with the doctor; he’s just trying to help you know.”

  The victim remained silent, staring at the wall opposite her, before slowly replying in broken English, “I’m not sick … I don’t need help.”

  “Okay, we want to make sure you’re okay, that’s all.”

  Sabina was paralysed with fear, but her position was unfaltering. “It’s none of your business,” she whispered looking at Abby, before returning to her fixed stare.

  Scott noticed that when she spoke, her words seemed disconnected from the overall neutrality of her demeanour. It felt as though he was looking at her through a pane of glass – her eyes were veiled, the lines of her face set not to show too much emotion.

  No doubt a defence mechanism her subconscious had designed as a coping strategy.

  What surprised him was the dissonance between what she was saying and the way she was saying it. As though the only way she could get the sentences out was to be as calm and matter-of-fact as possible.

  “We’re here to help, Sabina, we want to catch the people who did this to you. We want to make sure that no one else falls into their hands. Will you help?” Scott asked, almost pleading.

  The silence seemed to go on for hours when in reality it was less than a minute or two.

  Sabine offered a small nod, leading Scott to sigh in relief.

  “Why don’t you start from the beginning, hey?”

  “My mother sold me to a man who sent me here. She couldn’t cope … me and my two sisters too much to look after, and had no money in our town in Albania,” she began.

  “He gave me a passport and paid for me to come to UK with him.”

  “Who? Did he have a name?”

  She shook her head. “Just a man ... but he called man called Ardit often … called him brother. He only comes here sometimes. He was leaving me and taking an Indian girl back.”

  Scott shot Abby a quick glance, who nodded slightly.

  “He brought me here,” she said nodding towards the window. He gave me to Ardit. He then gave me to Johnny … Johnny looked after me.

  Scott bit his lip, the more Sabina talked, the more implicit Johnny became in this seedy operation.

  There’s no way you’re wriggling out now, matey.

  Sabina looked at the table, wringing her hands beneath it. “He treated me so well, I believed him. I loved him and he loved me straight away. He said I was beautiful. But after while, he turn horrible, and controlled everything I do. One minute he’s nice, next being so horrible. He said how his mother was ill with cancer and family needed lots of money to help her. But he loved me and one day he wanted to marry me and we have children. Live in nice, big house in future. Then my mother and sisters can come to live with us.”

  Abby shook her head, “Sabina, you’re doing really well, you can stop if you need to.”

  Sabina didn’t seem to hear her. She was lost in her own thoughts. There was no expression, no emotion, just a matter of fact, point-by-point recollection of the events that led her to where she was now … sitting in front of three more strangers baring her soul.

  “I told Johnny I would do anything to help him. I love Johnny. He made me think that being with men was the only way to raise enough money to pay for his mother. One minute he would hug me and say I love you, then he would shout at me outside. At first, I wanted to stop, but he said he would find my mother and kill her.”

  “Where did he take you?” Scott asked.

  “A house. Ardit open door, Johnny left me there. He took me into a small room with one small bed. There was a video camera on a stand at end of bed. He … he … just … raped me. He was filming it and I couldn’t move, he smelt. If I didn’t do it he said my mother would die,” her voice trailing off.

  Abby placed a hand over her open mouth, consumed with a mix
ture of horror and sadness.

  The fucking bastard.

  Sabina carried on, not pausing for breath, or thought, her sorrowful story just tumbling out, with no end in sight.

  “He kept me there and more men came … many each day. They were queuing up outside. I never stop ... Ten, twenty, sometimes thirty men every day. One girl in one place counted fifty-five men she had sex with before she was sick. He moved me everywhere, hotel room, house, flat.”

  There was a flicker of fear in her eyes that Scott noticed as they shot nervously from side to side.

  “He put knife to my throat and said he would kill me if I didn’t earn between three hundred and four hundred pounds a day. He would punish me.”

  “How?”

  “He didn’t hit me, he didn’t want bruises on my body. He raped me all the time. He took me to a pub where he showed me downstairs. There were chains, torn clothes everywhere and tools. He said I would get beaten here like other girls and not wake up.”

  Scott sat up, “Pub? Did it have a name?”

  She paused for a second, “I think it was called Unicorn.”

  Scott’s heart raced now, threatening to consume him. All he wanted to do was close the interview and race to the pub. Every one of his senses on red alert, his mind racing ahead, but it felt like time had stood still. Sabina still had more to come.

  “Men pay thirty pounds to have me, but to make more money, he let customers have sex in my behind without condom for sixty pounds.” She looked up for the first time, her eyes fixed onto Abby’s. “I must see fifteen men a day if all the bills are to be paid. I owe lots of money to the man who brought me here. Ardit who take my money threaten me and say that his friends in Albania will hurt my family if I am bad.” Her voice trailed off, coming to a silence in just the way the interview had started.

  “Sabina, you’ve been very courageous, I’m sorry for what you’ve been through. I promise we’ll bring the men to justice. We will be placing you in protective care for the time being. You’re safe now.”

  Sabina turned to Scott and glared at him, “But my family are not now.”

  Chapter 14

  Abby leaned back against the wall in the hallway, her hands in her pockets. She was gently tapping her head on the wall, her eyes closed. Scott stood beside her, looking at the floor. They both stood there in silence waiting for their cauldron of emotions to calm down.

  Abby opened her eyes and stared up towards the ceiling. “Fuck sake, Guv, do you know in our job we see and hear a lot of shit, and I can handle most things, but that was awful.” She let out a long sigh.

  Scott placed a reassuring hand on her arm, “You okay?”

  She nodded slowly, “Yep, I can’t believe one human being could do that to another. We live in such a fucking sick twisted world.”

  “I know, and it’s our job to get justice for that poor girl sitting in there,” he replied flicking his head towards the door. “Let’s get the team together, a quick debrief and sort out a plan of action tomorrow morning.”

  ***

  Scott had pulled in key contacts from the intelligence unit and safeguarding teams to update them on the recent discoveries. The room felt stuffy as the evening sun crept through the windows, causing those in the direct line of sight to squint. The lack of air conditioning only added to the humid environment.

  “Okay everyone, it’s been a challenging day today for many of us, so let’s have a round robin and get an update. Abby and I have just interviewed one of the victims, a Sabina Lunga, we found her at the house we raided this afternoon. She’s fifteen years old and was trafficked over here from Albania. Sabina’s been through a harrowing experience, the interview notes will be in her file for you all to read when you get moment. She’s given us a powerful statement. It’s enough for us to bring charges against Ardit Gashi of rape, conspiracy to rape and inciting a child to engage in sexual activity and that’s just for starters. How did you get on with interviewing him, Mike?”

  Mike sighed and shook his head whilst turning the corners of his mouth, “Cool as a cucumber, Guv, every question that I or Sian fired at him was met with a no comment.”

  “I’m not surprised, to be honest. From what I’ve read about Albanian gangs, they operate in small groups bound by a code of silence like the mafia. You got more chance of squeezing toothpaste out of an empty tube than get anything out of him. More importantly, Sabina suggested that Ardit might have a brother who’s higher up the command chain. If that is the case, he’s hardly going to grass on his own brother.

  She was bought over by someone we suspect might be Ardit’s brother who’s controlling this operation. With the fact he only comes over here occasionally, he will be harder to track down. And one of the missing girls,” Scott glanced at his notes, “Rishi Mehta, might be in his possession, so it’s vital we find her.”

  The team gave a collective round of approving nods.

  “We found another victim, Kelly Southall, who has been missing from Manchester. Abby, how did you get on with interviewing her?”

  “She’s a frightened little girl, Guv, there’s a similar pattern emerging here. She was brought down from Manchester by Murat Ahmet. Kelly was a mess by the time she was here. Murat did exactly what Ardit did to Sabina, but he did it in Manchester.”

  Abby raised a brow, “Then when she was passed over to Ardit, he did it all over again to stamp his authority and control. Oh and one other thing, Kelly said there are a few other girls. She never got the chance to speak to them, but there’s definitely more.”

  Scott turned to look at the photographs of the victims that were pinned to the incident board. He should have felt a sense of relief and some elation at having found the missing girls, however sadness tinted his thoughts. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of deflation at the fact that he hadn’t been able to rescue these girls earlier.

  Even though the girls were indoctrinated into this vile trade long before they appeared on his radar, he just wished he could have rescued them sooner. There were two girls being whisked away to safety, but they would never be the same again. Their youth had been stolen; they’d been propelled into an adult world long before their time. He couldn’t even begin to imagine the level of psychological damage that they’d experienced.

  “Right, first thing tomorrow, Raj and Sian, I want you to arrest Johnny Wright on suspicion of coercion and grooming underage girls. Bring him back here to interview, and grab any computer equipment he has.

  “Sian, I also want you to look at Ardit Gashi’s background. Confirm whether he has a brother, liaise with the intelligence unit, and speak to our colleagues in the Met vice squad. Albanian gangs control at least seventy to eighty percent of the sex trade in London. Let’s see if Ardit or anyone connected to him is known to the teams up in the big smoke.

  “Mike and Abby,” Scott said scribbling a few notes down, “We will pay Mark Renshaw a visit tomorrow at the Unicorn pub. Sabina mentioned that Ardit had taken her there as a warning. The suggestion was if she didn’t comply, she would be tortured down in the basement where other girls had been tortured. Mike, get a couple of uniforms to back us up tomorrow. I’ll just stop by Matt’s desk tonight to forewarn him we might need his team tomorrow to do forensics sweep of the basement.

  “Raj, you’re on late turn tonight, so any new developments, call me.”

  ***

  Scott had earlier popped into the Sainsbury’s on Lewes Road to pick up a few bits for dinner and was hastily preparing his meal when the doorbell rang. He glanced up at the clock on the wall in his kitchen and noticed that it was exactly 8 o’clock. He’d had very little time to prepare. Having rushed home from work, he’d tidied up frantically, showered and changed into a maroon polo T-shirt and pair of jeans.

  Opening the door, he was left lost for words. She stood cross-legged in skin-tight black jeans that looked as if they’d been sprayed on with an aerosol can. Cara perched elegantly in peep toe black platform heels that gave the smallest hint of red
pedicured toenails. Her casual blue blouse strained to contain her ample chest, a decorative necklace completed her stunning appearance. Her long brown hair now straightened, draped elegantly over shoulders and down her chest. Scott noticed how her red lipstick matched her toenails.

  “We can have dinner in the doorway if you want,” she suggested with one of her radiant smiles.

  Scott stumbled over his words yet again, “Um … no … shit, you look amazing! Please come in,” he said standing to one side and waving her in.

  After looking around the lounge, Cara nestled herself into a comfy brown leather sofa whilst Scott went off to fetch two glasses of suitably chilled Pinot Grigio. He came back into the lounge still struggling to stitch a sentence together.

  My god, she’s so beautiful.

  He sat beside her, they clinked glasses, toasted and each took a sip, their eyes still locked in their own game of I dare you to turn away first.

  They spent the next few moments just recalling how each other’s day had gone. There was no false pretences around Cara, no awkward pauses, he just felt at ease being in her company. He didn’t feel he was being judged in any way, something he was grateful for.

  “Are you hungry?”

  “What for?” she teased, her brightly coloured red lips breaking into a wide coy smile.

  Scott laughed, “For the moment, food,” he replied. It was only once the words fell out of his mouth that he realised that he’d said, for now.

  They settled towards one end of his dining table. He served them warmly baked ciabatta bread slices with a balsamic and parmesan dipping oil, to go alongside Mediterranean chicken skewers and wild rice. Scott had put on some chilled R&B music in the lounge, the sounds of which were drifting gently into the dining room.

  Cara was clearly hungry; she’d almost polished off two of the three chicken skewers whilst Scott was still on his first. “How’s the food?”

 

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