The Singhing Detective

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The Singhing Detective Page 22

by M. C. Dutton


  REPRIEVE AND RETRIBUTION

  It felt like he had been there alone with all the dead bodies splayed around him for hours but it was, in fact, 40 minutes before the door was violently opened and in charged the SO19 team. They scared the hell out of him and he was one of the good guys, so anyone else in there would have run at the sight of them. The fifteen burly men holding guns and wearing protective gear that made them all look like Mr Universe spread out and searched the area. Tom Black followed up at the rear and Jazz could hear him coming as he boomed out, “What the fuck are you doing here, you bastard? I thought you were doing some real detective work not swanning around here.” He stopped when he saw the carnage in front of Jazz and under his breath Jazz heard him say the nearest thing to a prayer Tom Black would ever say: “Jesus Christ in heaven save us all!”

  His ropes were undone and it was then that the shaking started. Someone found a blanket from somewhere and wrapped it around Jazz. He was in shock and as his hip flask was found on him, he drank the last gulp in it. They took him outside to the waiting police car. Someone would drive the undercover car back to the station for him. An ambulance arrived and Jenny the SOCO appeared with her henpecked partner to check out the scene and look at the bodies.

  “Bloody hell, Jenny, are you always on duty?” Jazz shouted from the open door of the car.

  With a half smoked cigarette in hand, she walked over to him. “I might have bloody known you would be involved somewhere. Your sodding fingerprints had better not be all over the evidence, young man.” She saw he looked shaken and noted the blanket around his shoulders so offered him a cigarette and lit it for him. He smiled with gratitude and she nodded back. He looked like shit and she wondered what on earth had happened. With a sigh, she stubbed out her cigarette and picked up her bag. She looked around and spotted her lacky, John. She shouted to him to “bloody hurry up and get moving, I haven’t got all day.” Muttering something about him being a lazy bugger and that it was always her that had the sodding work to do, she trundled off to look at the carnage in the warehouse. Jazz could hear her in the distance shouting at some poor officer to “bloody get your sodding hands off that door before I report you to your Superintendant.” Everyone in the vicinity visibly relaxed when she had gone.

  Tom Black strode up to the car and was irritated by everything going on; he wanted to get things moving and find out what had happened here. He asked for SO19 to stand down and got the place covered by police to ensure no one entered the area. Now he wanted to talk to Jazz and find out what the hell had happened here. He took a look at Jazz and figured he was fine and didn’t need a doctor. He needed answers now. Tom Boomer Black shouted to all around to keep an eye out and to let him know as soon as the SOCO had finished her work, he was off with Jazz to the station to get his statement.

  They went to the canteen where a hot mug of strong tea was put in front of Jazz by a worried Milly, who fussed and asked, “Can I get you anything else, dear?” as she tucked the blanket round him in a motherly gesture. He looked up and smiled at her and shook his head. She took no notice of the refusal, she knew better. With a gentle pat on his shoulder, she went back to the kitchen to cook him something tasty. A good meal would make him feel better.

  Boomer was busy shouting at officers in the canteen, making them move to the other side of the room. He wanted an area around Jazz that was people-free so he could spread out and talk in private. They could, of course, have gone to an interview room but that wasn’t necessary or comfortable. A cup of tea, something to eat and room to move was all that was needed as far as Boomer was concerned. A formal statement would have to be made soon but for now he wanted facts to work on.

  While this was going on, Jazz found another flask in his other pocket with some vodka still in it. He turned his back to Boomer and the others and, facing the wall, took a quick swig. That stopped the shaking for a while and he was now ready to sit and talk. He was in more shock than he realised and for a moment he pulled the blanket closer to him for comfort. Milly brought out a plate of sausage and chips which he didn’t want. With her encouragement though he took a chip and realised this was the first thing he had eaten for many hours. Using his fingers, he picked up the sausages and ate them with the chips; they tasted good.

  Boomer and Jazz sat for an hour going over events. A photo ident would be set up for Jazz to look through to see if any of the faces belonged to the killers. That was being organised. He was in big trouble, he should never have gone to the warehouse alone, he knew that. Boomer said he would do his best to help him but he had to admit Jazz was a silly bugger to even think of going there alone. What amazed them both was that Jazz was not killed. They went over the conversation and it appeared conclusive that Tony was dead. Boomer thumped the table and swore to the heavens above that he would get the killer of a police officer. Jazz solemnly stated that was his job and he wouldn’t rest until he found Tony’s body and his killers. Boomer, in a moment of unbridled passion, grabbed Jazz’s hand and shook it with a force that nearly knocked him off his chair and vowed to help him. Overcome by such comradeship, the tears rolled and after a few salty snotty minutes, Jazz felt better and pulled himself together. There was work to be done and killers to find.

  He sat in a formal setting and gave his statement, which was meticulously taken down by another officer. Boomer was too busy for such things, he was off looking for the photo idents to see if they had anyone who looked like the killers. They spent another hour looking through photos but none were recognised by Jazz. It was all a mystery. It was thought every one of the gang members in the Holy Trinity was in the picture idents. Surely there couldn’t be another gang out there? That would be too much for one small town. Someone had brought them in especially for the job. This led to the thought that perhaps this was all intended to happen. Perhaps it wasn’t to do with Alice’s death as first thought. Perhaps that was a smoke screen for a take over. With all these thoughts in mind, Boomer and Jazz took off for the warehouse to see what was happening and if Jenny had found anything interesting for them to use.

  The mortuary vans had arrived and were waiting. The photographer had been allowed in by Jenny to take photos of the bodies before they were moved. Boomer let Jazz approach the formidable Jenny. He had noticed that she was kinder to him than other officers. Jazz shouted to her from the door and asked if he could come in. She had been working there for the past four hours and it was getting late now, just past 11 p.m. She looked tired. With so much to do, she had called in extra help and there were two additional experienced SOCOs working throughout the warehouse collecting samples and cataloguing what they found. Jazz shouted hello to them and they both raised a hand in response.

  Jenny told them to not move far yet because although the work was nearly finished, she was going to check the area again to make sure. She told them there were twelve bodies, most within the area seen but two were found dead in a corner. All were shot but until the autopsies had been done, she couldn’t confirm what type of gun was used. All she would say was they were shot many times and there was more blood around than she had seen before.

  Jazz took her outside for a cigarette, he could see she hadn’t had a break. He got one of the policemen standing guard to go and find a place for some cups of tea. Jenny shouted out, “And no bloody sugar this time.” The officer nodded and went to find a late night cafe.

  Jazz let her smoke her cigarette for a few moments and then asked, “So, off the record, Jenny, what do you think?”

  She looked up at him and frowned. He was taking liberties but she reckoned it was his job to ask. She lit another cigarette with the end of the one she was smoking and threw the old stub onto the floor and trod on it. She took a fresh drag of the new cigarette, closing her eyes as she inhaled. “Well, they all looked Vietnamese to me and they were not very old, I would say mid-twenties to mid-thirties all of them. They were shot with a pretty mean gun, can’t say at the moment until I get an ident on the bullets but if I had to guess
I would say a Glock, the preferred gun for law enforcement agencies around the world. They are pretty accessible for your gangster type. Expensive, yes, but very effective and easy to get hold of these days. The way the bullets hit the bodies, the firing would have been instant to have caught them so quickly and covered them all in the same area of the body. A Glock can do that. Anything larger and heavier without a quick-fire action wouldn’t have hit the bodies in the same way.” She stubbed out her cigarette and told him, “And don’t bloody quote me on any of this. I’ll know in the morning.” With that, she went back inside to carry on working.

  He shouted after her, “Thank you, darling.” She grunted something obscene and went inside the warehouse.

  He could hear Boomer getting a mouthful from Jenny as he followed her into the warehouse. Boomer had been looking around and Jenny had caught him looking inside one of the boxes. It’s not often you saw Boomer looking sorry and lost for words but Jenny had that effect on everyone. She was damn good at her job and she was admired and always the preferred SOCO for any job on their patch.

  It was late and there was nothing else they could do tonight. Boomer had a 5 a.m. raid the next morning to round up the gang members. Cells had been booked at Ilford, Dagenham, Barking and Forest Gate Police Stations to contain them all. Jenny had promised them some information by mid-morning and the autopsies would be carried out tomorrow as well. Boomer and Jazz each picked up a burger from a late night stall in Ilford and then they each went their own way home. Jazz wasn’t part of the raid so he would have a lie in until 6 a.m. It was going to be a busy day tomorrow.

  On the way home, he rang Sharon for any news. She said it was a long time coming but she was hopeful that by the morning there would be some news. She sounded tired. The CCTV had been slow going but they had finally got on camera the car at Charlie Brown’s roundabout going towards Woodford at the moment. She hoped they would be getting somewhere soon. She was off for some sleep and had left an officer carrying on the work. In answer to his question, she told him that she hadn’t had anything to eat yet. She was going to pick up a curry from some place on the way home. She had heard what had happened to him and checked he was OK. He promised to update her tomorrow and told her not to be concerned because he had a guardian angel, the killers had told him that. He would tell her in the morning about what was said about Tony. They agreed to meet at Ilford at 7 a.m. and decide what they were going to do.

  He needed a drink and was glad to get home and into his room uninterrupted. It was nearly midnight and the Chodda family were asleep. The facts were terrible and hard to comprehend. Tony was dead but they still had no idea where his body was. Alice was dead, a sweet old lady who deserved to die in her sleep, not at the hands of a murderer. He should be dead and for the life of him he didn’t know why he was spared. It would haunt him for the next few months. At the last count there were 17 bodies and when Tony’s body was found the count would be 18. The murder squad from Scotland Yard would be There soon. There haD never been so many murders in such a short time on any pitch in London. It rivalled Chicago at its worst and the press would be making mincemeat of the Police force. He sat with a drink thinking life was a mess. But if he thought it was bad now, tomorrow was going to be worse. He would need all his stamina to survive the day.

  THE BEST LAID PLANS OF MICE AND MEN

  He met Sharon at 7 a.m. He hadn’t slept well and was at the station by 6. a.m. He waited to see if any of the gang members had been brought in yet. Boomer had some that were being processed in the custody suite. Fingerprints were being taken, photos taken and when all the entries into logs had been made, they would be put in a cell ready for interview. The noise in the custody suite would have woken up anyone in the vicinity. Bob was on duty and he said hello but there was no time for chit chat, he had his hands full. Jazz wasn’t needed for this operation so he took himself off to wait in the canteen for Sharon.

  She arrived looking dreadful. She said she had only got four hours sleep by the time she got back, had something to eat and showered. He commiserated but got her back on track to talk about the job in hand. He went through the details of the previous night and his finding the warehouse, the bodies and how he was caught and he thought he was a gonna. Sharon looked pale at the description but when Jazz told her what they said about Tony, she went chalk-white. He was glad he hadn’t told her last night.

  When asked about Tony’s phone, she said she had a phone call to make. She said she had an expert looking into it for her and it all depended on whether the phone was used or not, which was depressing to hear. The good thing was that at some point in the evening Sharon had rung him and so had Jazz and his mother. Even if he had had his phone off, the signal would have got through to the phone and would show them where he was when he was called. Sharon confirmed that she had spoken to Mrs Sepple, Tony’s mother, yesterday evening and confirmed the number she had rung Tony’s mobile on and at what time. It would seem she was the last one to have rung him. So far, she added, his phone was at Forest Gate when both she and Jazz tried to ring him. They crossed their fingers that Mrs Sepple had rung him late enough for him to be wherever he finally arrived at so they could find him.

  She told Jazz that her conversation with Mrs Sepple went from utter panic and hysteria to full blown cold, murderous anger at her boy being missing and she was looking for someone to blame. Sharon said it might be best for Jazz not to contact her until there was further evidence. The air between them felt heavy and a deep depression fell like a soggy blanket over them as they both knew the news would not be good.

  Before they left, it was decided that today was the day that all the evidence must come together. Sharon would finish the CCTV, which should take them to the vicinity of where Tony was. The phone expert had until lunchtime before she would get angry and demand some evidence. By 1 p.m. at the latest, Sharon hoped to have her information at the ready.

  Jazz was off to see Bam Bam to see what on earth was happening with the Holy Trinity and to see his reaction to the early morning raids on his men as well as all the others in the Holy Trinity. He would then seek out Jenny, who by lunchtime should have lots to tell him.

  He checked with Boomer and said he would meet him at 2 p.m. so they could update each other on what they had found. Boomer was in his element and had before him all the nasty pieces of work he had longed to pull in before. This was his opportunity to wring as much information out of them all as was possible within the PACE clock time. They had been pulled in for a legitimate reason and they had 24 hours before the police had to make the decision to release or charge.

  Boomer, Sharon and Jazz were ready to go off and work in their own areas and come back with information at lunchtime. They were about to say goodbye and go on their way when an officer from the front desk cleared his throat and said that there was a woman in the front office waiting to see DS Singh. When asked her name, the officer said it was Mrs Sepple. They all stopped for a second and looked at Jazz.

  “Yea Gods, I don’t envy you with Tony’s mother,” was all Boomer would say as he left to return to the interview room where ‘a particularly nasty piece of scrotum’ was waiting to be interviewed. Sharon said she would go with Jazz as backup. Jazz told her to go and find a comforting PWC to sit with her. He wiped his face and wondered what on earth he was going to say to this distraught mother.

  As soon as she saw him, she rose out of her seat with a vehemence he had only seen in films. “Where is my boy?” she shouted across the counter, spitting the words in the direction of his face. “I know all about you, you murderer!” she shouted, her face contorted with anger and hatred. “I want my baby back now!” she screamed and walked purposely up to the counter and hit the glass in front of Jazz’s astonished face with all the force of a demon. It didn’t break but Jazz ducked instinctively at the blow coming towards him. He was then faced with a broken woman who melted back into a chair, bent over and was wracked by deep, loud sobs. Everyone in the front office had been cau
ght in a tableau of stillness whilst they watched, in shock, the tirade before them. Now she was sobbing, all movement returned and each person resumed what they were doing. Sharon had arrived with a PWC ,who took Mrs Sepple to a waiting room and said she would get her a cup of tea.

  The accusing looks did not miss Jazz. He could feel them piercing his back. Everyone agreed with what Mrs Sepple had said. He was a murderer. He was responsible for Tony and he let him down. The other incident was brought back with a vengeance. What had only been muttered darkly by those who knew was now spoken of by everyone. Jazz was a Jonah and anyone who worked with him was liable to end up dead, it had happened before and now it had happened again. As he stood there in the middle of the front office, Jazz was shown by his fellow officers that he was no longer considered one of them. They turned their back on him and blamed him along with Mrs Sepple for Tony’s disappearance and possible death.

  He had to go and see Mrs Sepple. She had come to see him, and he had to speak to her to tell her what they were doing to find Tony. He told Sharon to get on with the CCTV and the mobile phone, he needed to have everything by lunchtime. She would have stayed with him as support if he had asked but she wished him luck and left. Time was of the essence, this needed to be solved and finished quickly, before there were more killings.

  He walked into the small interview room and nodded to the PWC to leave. He sat down and faced Mrs Sepple. She looked drawn and dishevelled but she didn’t care. “Where is my baby boy?” she implored. For the minute, the fight seemed to have gone out of her. He was relieved at this. She listened intently as he told her everything that was being done and how they were trying to find him. He kept his conversation optimistic, suggesting they would find Tony alive and well. He knew this was not going to be true, but until they knew for sure, he could still be alive.

 

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