Death Trap

by Mitchell, Dreda Say

  Larkin looked down at her hand, his mouth curling at the sides. She let her hand drop away.

  Larkin looked up again. ‘Presumably, you’ve read my record? If you have, then you’ll know that me and mine don’t do friendly chats with the filth.’

  ‘Not even when it’s a matter of innocent people being murdered and terrorised in their homes? We’re not accusing you of anything; we’d just like your help. Other figures from your world are and we’re hoping you will too.’

  Gary looked at her with contempt. ‘Very moving plea, Inspector, now if you don’t mind . . .’ And with that he walked out.

  But Rio wasn’t going to let him get away that easily. She caught up with Larkin on one side, and Strong flanked him on the other, matched him step for step. He ignored them and kept going. He seemed to be heading back to his flat but then he clearly thought better of it and did an about turn. When it was clear they were going to get no joy from their man, Rio tried another tactic.

  ‘Gary – have you got a phone number for Samson?’

  Larkin’s stride faltered on hearing his nephew’s name: he stopped, turned around. He didn’t look so confident anymore, his eyes blinking way too many times. ‘Samson? What Samson?’

  ‘Samson Larkin, your nephew. You talked about me and mine a minute ago so I’m assuming you have heard of your brother Terry’s son.’

  ‘Funny,’ he said sarcastically. ‘I don’t have a number for him . . .’ He hesitated slightly before adding, ‘What do you want to speak to him for?’

  Rio gave nothing away as she answered, ‘He’s been skipping meetings with his probation officer. You know, just routine . . .’

  ‘That’s sounds a little too routine for the attention of someone who’s heading up the Greenbelt inquiry?’

  ‘Ordinary police work has to go on. And we thought, as we were speaking to you, we’d ask after Samson’s whereabouts. But that’s OK; we’ll find him ourselves.’ She watched his expression closely but could read nothing in it. ‘Look, Gary, if you change your mind about helping us – you know, anything, rumours or gossip about Greenbelt, your own pet theory about who’s doing it, anything – give us a call.’ She reached into her pocket, took out a card and offered it to Larkin. ‘Or better still come with us now.’

  He ignored the card. ‘Oh yeah, and why would I bloody well do that?’

  ‘Eliminate yourself from the case. If you’ve got nothing to hide you’re going to be fine. However,’ Rio let the word ride between them, ‘if your name ends up in the frame we’re going to come back here mob-handed. Now an innocent man wouldn’t be worrying so much.’ She held up her palms. ‘It’s your decision.’

  ‘You’re not listening are you? My family don’t talk to coppers . . .’

  ‘Tell you what, Gary,’ Rio continued, her tone light and even, ‘why don’t you give your brief a bell and we’ll be in the car waiting outside your block. If you change your mind in the next ten minutes you know where to find us. If you don’t . . . well, who knows what will happen in the next twenty-four hours.’

  She put the card back in her pocket and signalled to Strong. They walked back down the high street. As they turned into the road leading to Gary Larkin’s home, Rio looked back the way they’d come. Gary Larkin had disappeared.

  As soon as they got back in the car outside the block of flats Rio confidently said, ‘I predict he’ll be back in five minutes—’

  Strong turned to her. ‘No way. Let’s make a bet. I say Gazza’s back after five minutes.’

  Rio didn’t do bets: brought back memories of too many arguments between her mum and dad when she was growing up and her father lost the mortgage money in some loser gambling game. But she was tempted . . . so tempted.

  ‘Alright, you’re on,’ she agreed.

  ‘Forfeit?’

  Now that was easy. ‘You do everything I tell you to for the rest of this investigation.’

  Rio’s heart lurched as she waited for him to name his price. ‘OK,’ Strong said slowly. ‘A kiss when and where I choose.’

  ‘Flip off, old man,’ Rio scoffed. ‘Ain’t going to happen.’

  ‘What you worried about? That you’ll like it? It isn’t like you’re connected to anyone, from what I hear, so why don’t you give those lips of yours a day trip out, lass?’

  Not connected to anyone. Rio thought of Calum. He didn’t own her; she could do what she liked with any part of her body.

  And that’s why she said, ‘OK, you’re on. But you’re going to lose.’

  He chuckled. ‘Better get those lips of yours ready for an outing.’

  Four minutes later Rio grinned as she spotted Gary Larkin walking towards the car in the rear-view mirror as if summoned by an invisible hand of justice.

  ‘Thou must obey thine senior officer,’ Rio whispered to Strong triumphantly.

  Larkin got closer and closer to the car. Rio reached for the door handle but froze when her person of interest walked straight past the car. Strong let loose a chuckle as Gary approached his block. Rio was in silent despair for two reasons.

  Strong leaned across. Whispered, ‘Better get those lips nicely turned out . . .’

  Rio pulled back when she saw Gary Larkin reappear. Checked her watch.

  ‘Still fifteen seconds on the clock.’

  Come on, Gary.

  Strong looked over at the red-lit digital clock on the dashboard.

  Come on, Gary.

  Gary was within an inch of the car when the clock struck the next minute.

  ‘Your lips are mine,’ Strong said sweetly as Larkin reached the vehicle.

  Rio wound down the window getting back on with the job. ‘Hello again, Gary.’

  He gave what sounded like a prepared speech. ‘I’ve been having a think about what you said. And I’m prepared to talk to you. Know why?’

  Rio raised an eyebrow. ‘Because you want to clear your conscience?’

  ‘Nah. Coz I’m innocent.’

  Rio smiled. ‘Let’s take the rest of our discussion down the station.’

  While Strong accompanied their person of interest into the back of the car, Rio sent a text message to a member of her team:

  Get everything ready.

  twenty-five

  11:16 a.m.

  Adeyemi – Nikki’s boyfriend - pretended to enjoy the company of his friends and the soft music in the background inside the café style bar of the theatre that had once been a shoe factory in Peckham. But he wasn’t listening; hell, he couldn’t stop thinking about Nikki. He was worried about her. No, he was frightened for her since her uncle, aunt and parents had been murdered.

  His mum disapproved of Nikki. ‘You need a girl your own age,’ was all she said, but the worry lines on her face told him she always meant so much more than the words leaving her mouth.

  And as for his brother . . . well, Chiwetel only ever chatted about him studying hard to get a decent job, a one-way ticket out of the not-so-hip part of London SE15. Not like me, his brother often said with regret, I’m part of the university of the street.

  His family didn’t get it, didn’t understand how he and Nikki had just clicked on that student conference six months back. Best of all she made him laugh . . .

  ‘Earth to Ade, earth to Ade.’

  He parked his worries about his girlfriend to the back of his mind – not too far though – as he looked across the small, round table at his mate Chrissie. She was pretty, ballsy, mixed white-black heritage, the type of woman his mother would welcome with open arms.

  ‘Are you with us, my friend?’ she blew over to him, her small twists dancing around her face. His two other friends sat looking at him with grins on their faces. ‘So are you coming with us to the all new urban production of Henry V set on a council estate here next week?’

  Ade didn’t much fancy going out and about while Nikki was in such a fix.

  ‘I—’

  His mobile pinged. He pulled it out. Text.

  I’m at Peckam Rye station.
Now. Come get me.

  Nikki

  Both rattled and relieved Ade pushed out of his chair. ‘Got to go.’

  He didn’t even wait to hear the surprised comments of his friends as he hurried out of the bar, jumped the stairs two at a time and then hit the exit. And immediately bumped straight into a man . . . The man gripped his arms to stop them from falling.

  ‘Sorry, sorry,’ he said, but was soon on his way with no time to lose. Finally he was going to see Nikki, to see with his own two eyes that she was alright. Elation built inside him as he reached the main road. Two things puzzled him though – why had she signed the text ‘Nikki’? She never signed off her texts. And strangely, her number hadn’t come up like it usually did.

  He reached for his phone the same time he turned a corner. But he never took it out because everything around him started to blur, tilt. He rubbed a hand against his eyes. His legs might be moving but they felt like they were wading through quicksand. He shook his head, but the world around him didn’t come right; it got worse. The colour of the doom-toned sky and buildings started to blend into one. He needed to stop or he was going to fall down. Ade didn’t understand what was going on. Maybe he had that bug that was doing the rounds? As he raised his foot instead of going forwards he tilted back against something hard.

  ‘Easy does it,’ a voice breathed into his ear. ‘You’re OK.’

  ‘What?’ Ade could hear the bustle of the main road receding into the distance as whoever had spoken to him steered him someplace else.

  ‘Where . . . are . . . you . . . ?’ But he never finished as the world dropped away.

  The last thought he had was that he had to get to Nikki.

  twenty-six

  Midday

  ‘I’m not saying nothing until my brief gets here,’ Gary Larkin insisted as soon as his bum hit the seat of the chair in Interview Room Number Two.

  ‘Why do you need your solicitor if you haven’t done anything wrong?’ Rio responded.

  Larkin’s lip curled. ‘Because I don’t trust you lot.’

  Without a word Rio left him alone with the uniformed officer in the room and quietly closed the door.

  She quickly checked her phone and read Calum’s on-the-hour text; things were good at his end. The calm she felt was immediately replaced with urgency as she headed for Interview Room Number Four. She could already smell what was going on inside before she opened the door. Rio coughed slightly as she entered the room filled with light smoke. Strong and the two officers on loan from Surrey inhaled and exhaled quickly on cigarettes.

  Strong pulled the cigarette away from his lips grimacing slightly with the expression of a former smoker. ‘Why are we doing this?’

  ‘You’ll see . . .’

  Rio stopped speaking as the door opened admitting another member of her team carrying the vacuum cleaner that belonged to one of the Fort’s cleaners and an envelope under his arm.

  ‘You do know that this is against health and safety rules?’ Strong said, smoke mingling in the air with his words.

  ‘Like you care about rules,’ Rio replied, more with camaraderie than annoyance as she bent down near the vacuum cleaner. She pulled it apart until she had the dust bag in her hands. Unclipped it and spread a light sprinkling of dust around the room. She then moved to Strong with the opened bag.

  ‘Right, drop your ciggie end in here.’

  ‘Is this some type of strange ritual you guys do at The Fort?’ he asked as he followed her order.

  But Rio didn’t have time for questions as she walked towards the two officers who dropped their cigarette ends into the bag.

  ‘Get this out of here,’ she said to the officer standing near the vacuum cleaner. Rio took the envelope from him and turned to the two Surrey officers. ‘Thanks for doing this. If anyone asks you about this say nothing, just refer them to me.’

  Once they were gone Strong walked over to her. ‘DI what’s going on here?’

  But before Rio could answer the door opened. The desk sergeant popped her head around the corner. ‘Gary . . .’ She covered her mouth as she started coughing. ‘Larkin’s solicitor is here.’

  Rio turned to Strong. ‘Bring Larkin and his brief in here.’

  Strong frowned. ‘But I thought we were questioning him in Number Two.’

  ‘So does Gary.’ Rio allowed herself to smile. ‘Just get them in here.’

  Once she was alone Rio allowed herself to take a steady, long breath and regretted it instantly when dust particles entered her throat. She swallowed, pushing them down and out of the way. What she was about to do wasn’t strictly illegal, not really bending the book: just being strategic with the resources she had available. Rio placed herself on one side of the bare rectangular table, the envelope in front of her, and waited.

  When Larkin and his solicitor, Ben Catley, walked into the interview room, accompanied by Strong, the young man of law recoiled, coughing and took out a hanky. ‘Have you been burning bodies in here, Detective Inspector Wray?’

  ‘I’m sorry about this, but our last interviewee was a heavy smoker. Of course, we should have asked him to stop but he said he was stressed out and needed a smoke.’

  From behind his hanky, Catley told her, ‘Well, we can’t possibly conduct an interview in a room like this; you’ll have to find somewhere else.’

  Rio sounded innocent. ‘I’m afraid I didn’t realise that the room I’d placed Mr Larkin in was already booked.’ She allowed herself to look at Gary Larkin for the first time. ‘You don’t mind do you, Gary – I’m sure you’re used to smoky environments?’

  Larkin looked pale, the bob of his Adam’s apple working overtime.

  As he sat down Rio pressed on with the caring cop routine. ‘Are you sure you’re OK? Do you suffer from asthma or any other respiratory conditions?’

  Rio caught Strong’s hooded eyes as he sat beside her and saw that he finally realised what she was doing. Nikki Bell’s words lay between them: One of them couldn’t breathe properly . . .

  Gary Larkin puffed out his chest. ‘Nah, I don’t suffer from asthma. Got lungs of steel.’ But the splutter he let out at the end maybe told another story.

  Strong put on the electronic recording equipment. The interview started.

  But before the questioning began Ben Catley said, ‘I would like to make a quick statement on behalf of my client.’ He coughed, then started up again, ‘I object, in the strongest possible terms, to the harassment of my client who has not been involved in any criminal activity for many years . . .’

  But Rio wasn’t listening to him; she was only interested in keeping her gaze glued to Larkin’s face. A film of sweat shone around the side of his nose and below his receding hairline. His features were rigid – trying to keep himself under control, or just nerves at being questioned? Rio knew she would soon find out.

  A belching cough from Catley announced the end of the statement.

  ‘Have you finished, Mr Catley?’ Rio kept her eyes on her person of interest as she asked the question.

  ‘For now.’

  ‘Good.’ She placed her forearms on the table and laced her fingers together. ‘I’m sure you understand, Gary – I can call you Gary?’ But she didn’t wait for his response. ‘That just to keep the books straight and to completely eliminate you from this inquiry, it would help if you could tell me where you were during any of the Greenbelt raids, so we can categorically confirm you weren’t involved?’

  Gary smiled at her. ‘I can tell you where I was for all of them.’

  Everyone was surprised, even his solicitor.

  ‘All of them?’ Rio’s fingers tightened together. ‘How can you possibly know where you were for all of them?’

  Gary coughed once. He didn’t put his hand over his mouth, Rio thought, definitely a man who wasn’t brought up right. She didn’t like the way the sweat on his face was drying up like he was feeling confident.

  He threw his head slightly forwards. ‘Because whenever a big crime goes down,
I make a note of where I was in a book, just in case you lot try and pin it on me later. A lot of the guys do that.’

  ‘But according to Mr Catley, you haven’t been involved in the underworld for years?’

  His head inched back. ‘I haven’t. But that hasn’t stopped you lot from bringing me in for Greenbelt has it?’

  ‘So where were you at approximately at five forty-five on the morning of January the eighth?’

  Larkin didn’t even blink. ‘At home, with the wife, sleeping.’

  ‘How can you be so certain of this?’

  He reached into his pocket and produced a small book, with a padded black cover like a diary. ‘I’ve been checking while I was waiting for Catley here to turn up.’ He looked in his book. ‘Snoozing like two babes we were.’

  ‘And if we talked to your wife she’ll back you up?’

  His chest puffed out slightly, but this time he spluttered and wheezed.

  ‘Mr Larkin,’ his solicitor asked, ‘Are you OK to continue?’

  A few softer coughs left his mouth. Rio noted that the rest of them had got accustomed to the smoky atmosphere in the room; the only person who hadn’t was Gary Larkin.

  ‘I think we should suspend this questioning—’

  ‘No.’ Gary waved his hands stopping his solicitor. ‘I just want to get this over and done with so that I can get back to my Maria and the girls.’

  A beloved husband? A devoted father? Yeah, and my name’s Michelle Obama, Rio thought.

  ‘Must feel good knowing that you’re married to a woman who’s taking care of your back,’ Rio said, once the man opposite had his lungs back under control.

  Catley softly jumped in. ‘My client has given you a full account of what he was doing at the time and date you requested. So shall we move on to any other dates you wish to explore with him?’

  And that’s what Rio did.

  January 11th?

  Sleeping.

  January 21st?

  Kipping on the sofa at my brother Terry’s. Me and the missus had a barney.

  February 1st?

  Watching a live wrestling match on Sky from America. Wrestlemania.