by Conrad Jones
DELETE THE PHOTOGRAPHS
Her knees buckled and she stumbled onto all fours. She felt bile rising in her throat and she vomited. Her stomach contents, acid yellow goo splattered onto her beige carpet. She couldn’t turn her gaze from the bag. She wretched again and for the second time that day, she heard herself screaming.
CHAPTER 21
Maxwell and the other officers scoured the house, batons drawn and poised to strike at the intruder. Whoever had broken into the property was both skilled and fearless. That worried him. He was embarrassed that someone had managed to get so close to his primary. His embarrassment was trumped by his fear.
“I need photographs of both the handbag and the clear bag and the note and then make sure that they reach forensics ASAP for printing,” Maxwell ordered the uniformed officers nervously. They were all under no illusions how dangerous their situation was. Training took control as they followed a well learned procedure. “When the CSIs arrive, have them check the loft first. The hatch is offset. That is how the cheeky bastard got in.” His mobile buzzed and he gestured towards the stairs with his head. Toni followed him nervously, frightened to leave his side. She had managed to gain control of herself momentarily. “Sarge,” he said as he answered it. “There’s been an attempt to get to Toni.”
“What?” Stirling growled. “Is she okay?”
“Yes, Sarge,” Max said deflated. He threw Toni a disparaging glance. “Someone broke in here and left Antonia a message.”
“What?” Disbelief tinged his voice. “While you were there?”
“Yes, Sarge. I think they came in through the loft,” Max explained as they reached the front door. He visually checked around the garden and then pushed Toni towards the car. She clung to his arm tightly. “They left a plastic bag with eyeballs floating in it.”
“Human?”
“I think so. Blue ones. And a note saying, ‘delete the photographs’ was pinned to her handbag.”
“Delete the photographs?”
“That’s what it says.”
“What photographs?”
“I don’t know, Sarge.” Max bundled Toni into the back of their Audi and signalled to the driver to keep an eye on her. “I need to get Toni out of here in a hurry.” He closed the car door and walked away so that he could talk without worrying her. “They could be in the house. We can’t search it all safely without help. I’ve called for armed backup to escort her in but if they have got the balls to break in while we’re outside then she’s exposed wherever she is, until we get her to the station.”
“Agreed,” Stirling grunted. The more he learned about the way this crew operated, the more concerned he became. Their response to any threat thus far had been both rapid and destructive. They were not afraid of striking the fear of God into anyone that encroached on their business. Antonia Barrat and Mike James, if that was his name, had walked into a wasps’ nest and given it a good hard kick and now the wasps were riled and determined to attack anyone within range. “These bastards are not messing around. They must have followed Toni from the station to the pawnbrokers and assumed that Kayla Yates was her source. Kayla was ‘questioned’, if you know what I mean.”
“I understand.”
“They were disturbed so they rammed her inside the safe.”
“I see,” Max tried not to let his disgust reach his face. He turned his back so that Toni couldn’t see his expression. “Will she live?”
“I wouldn’t bet on it, to be honest.”
“Look, Toni is pretty shook up at the moment but she’s going to ask me what happened. How much do I tell her?”
“Tell her whatever you need to, to get her to the station. Under no circumstances do you take her to the hospital, okay,” Stirling ordered. “She’ll be a sitting duck in a building that size. There’s no way that we can protect her there. Once we know Kayla’s prognosis, we can look at it again. I’ll meet you back at the station and we can discuss these photographs with Miss Barrat.” He paused and swallowed his rising anger. “She is withholding information from us and I’m beginning to get a little pissed off with her.”
“Just a little?”
“Don’t wind me up.” Stirling warned. “I’ll see you there. Do not move without the armed unit.” The call clicked off.
“Yes, Sarge,” Max agreed with the disconnected line. He turned to Toni and grimaced. Her eyes were full of shock and anticipation. He walked back to the vehicle and opened the door. “Kayla is stable but she’s not out of the woods yet.”
“Oh God!” Toni bit her bottom lip and looked out of the window. She felt as if her guts were being squished in a giant vice. “What happened to her?”
“We’re not certain but we know that they locked her inside her safe.”
“The safe?”
“Yes.”
“That’s why he wanted the code?” Toni’s voice was a whisper. Her face greyed. She frowned as her brain computed the terror that she must have felt being forced into such a limited space and how frightened Kayla must have been when they closed the door. “Can I see her?”
“Soon.”
Toni knew that meant ‘no’ but she was too shaken to argue. She didn’t think that the day could possibly get any worse.
CHAPTER 22
The Major Investigation Team had set up the incident room in their section of Canning Place. Although a Senior Investigating Officer hadn’t been appointed yet, it was assumed that MIT would be at the helm. Annie had been handed the reins until a decision was made. Her section was buzzing and detectives from the other departments that were involved were milling about, waiting for the briefing to begin. She heard the lift arrive and was pleased to see Stirling’s huge frame appear. He caught her eye and headed in her direction. Her team was dispersed and disorganised and that made her uneasy. She needed to know who was doing what and when. She wasn’t a control freak outside of work but she did need to be in charge of any investigation; completely in charge. If she didn’t know what was going on then how the hell could she steer an investigation in the right direction? Some of her detectives didn’t like her scrutiny but they mistook it as a lack of trust in their ability. She wasn’t analysing their performance, she was evaluating every piece of evidence and slotting them together in her mind. The detectives that appreciated that fact flourished under her and those that didn’t floundered.
“Ten minutes, everyone!” Annie called across the office. “Check your messages, make any last calls and fill up your coffee cups. We’ll get started at three o’clock.” She stepped back into her office and waited for Stirling to step inside before closing the door. She leaned her back against it and took a deep breath. “I could do with starting today all over again.”
“It has not been the best, Guv.” Stirling slumped into a leather swivel chair that looked as if it might buckle beneath him. “We need to get a grip of this lot before they do any more damage. Did you get anything at the garage?”
“It’s early days yet,” Annie shrugged. “Two dead bodies and a third with his head bashed in, a busload of mules, who are now murder suspects and two brothers, who are so stupid that I’m surprised they know one end of a spanner from another. The drugs were long gone.”
“They’re being set up at every turn,” Stirling said. “The handover at the mill was leaked this morning and then when they try to recover their security and move the drugs, they’re hit again. They have a leak at the top of the tree.”
“Absolutely right,” Annie frowned, “And Antonia Barrat has a bloody good idea where the information is coming from.”
“Did Maxwell call you?”
“Yes,” Annie nodded. “How many crooks do you know that have the skill and the balls to break into a house while there are police cars outside and detectives inside?”
“Not many.” Stirling wagged his finger. “I don’t think it is a matter of ‘balls’. I think it is fear.”
“I’m listening.”
“Whoever is in control doesn’t accept
failure. His operation has been compromised and he has sent out his minions with a brief to rescue the situation and not to return unless they’re successful. They’re prepared to do whatever it takes because the repercussions are more frightening than being arrested.”
Annie nodded as she mulled it over. Stirling was right. The sad truth was that a few years in a UK jail would hardly strike fear into the heart of a career criminal from Eastern Europe. When all things were balanced, the rewards of crime were far too enticing. “Sadly, you’re right. How long will Max be?”
“Not long,” Stirling looked at his watch. “He was waiting for an armed escort.”
“Do we know what photographs they’re talking about?”
“No but Barrat does. She’s taking the piss out of us and she’ll get someone killed if she doesn’t come clean.” Stirling’s face darkened. His jaw tightened as he spoke. “Kayla Yates is a mess, Guv.” He shook his head as he recalled her injuries. “They broke her like she was a Barbie doll; her joints were ripped out of their sockets. I wish Barrat had seen the state of her when we pulled her out of that safe. She wouldn’t be as keen to mess us about if she had.”
“Any CCTV from the shop?”
“There are images of them entering the shop. Brazen as you like, Guv,” he scoffed. “One of them shut the door and locked the Yale lock and the other grabbed her by the hair and dragged her into the rear office. They stopped the cameras from there and took the discs but this morning’s footage is on the hard drive.” He shrugged. “They made sure that we couldn’t see their faces but a regular customer, Jason Greene photographed them leaving the shop. He was waiting in the shop to see Kayla and became suspicious when she didn’t come out of her office. We have their faces on his photos.”
“How did he get in if they locked the door?”
“Apparently, it’s a security feature,” Stirling explained. “If the Yale lock is activated from the inside without a code being entered into the alarm, the system assumes that the shop is being robbed and it opens the lock after three minutes.”
“That is clever.”
“It saved her life. If Jason Greene hadn’t disturbed them, she would be dead. No doubt about it.”
“They really want to know who their leak is, don’t they?” Annie looked out of the window as she spoke. To her left, the huge Ferris wheel, ‘The Liverpool Eye’ rotated slowly and to her right a humungous cruise ship was moored at the pier head. Tourists streamed from the liner into the Albert Docks. The river was the city’s lifeline; it had brought trade and wealth to Liverpool for centuries. Unfortunately, not all the cargo that it brought was good. Some people made their fortunes and others suffered and died. Life in the big city went on regardless. “Let’s bring everyone up to speed and find these animals.”
CHAPTER 23
Detective Constable Maxwell waved at the Armed Response Unit, who rode in a BMW X5. The driver and another officer were in the front seats whilst two officers in body armour, armed with Heckler and Koch MP5 Carbines, sat either side of Antonia Barrat in the back. Maxwell was in the passenger seat of a Vauxhall Omega and the plan was for the Omega to clear the way through the traffic using their blues and twos if necessary. The marked traffic interceptor that had been stationed outside the house would follow up the rear. The driver of the X5 flashed his lights to signal that he was ready. The blue light on the roof began to turn and illuminated for a second before it became still once more.
Max clicked his seatbelt home and the Omega pulled forward towards the gates. The gates whirred into motion and began to open. The Omega slowed to a stop as they drew level with the pavement so that the driver could check for traffic both ways. The driver nudged forward slowly and then slammed on the brakes throwing Max towards the windscreen violently. The seatbelt dug into his chest and shoulder painfully.
“What the hell are you doing?” Max snapped at the driver.
“He stepped out of nowhere!”
A well built male in black clothing blocked their path. His hands were empty, hanging at his sides. Max looked up and stared into the eyes of Letva Lapsa. His eyes were steely grey and fixed on the X5 behind them. He stood impassively like a statue. The driver sounded the horn but he didn’t flinch. There was no response at all. Max looked in the mirror and saw that the armed officers were poised to deploy. He couldn’t decide if the man was alarmed like a rabbit in the headlights or blocking their way purposely.
“Sir?” The comms crackled.
“Do not deploy unless you see a weapon.” Max said into the comms. He opened his door and climbed half out, keeping his body behind the door and windshield. “Move!” Max ordered flatly. Letva looked at him and cocked his head slightly as if deciding what to do. Max felt his breath stuck in his throat. His lips went dry. He was surrounded by armed officers and yet he felt frightened. Surely it was just his nerves. He could just be a passing stranger. There was something sinister about the man but having him bundled away by officers with machineguns was overkill and would require a lot of explaining to his superiors. There was a mountain of paperwork attached to every time a weapon was drawn. “Step to the side, Sir,” Max pointed at the pavement with his finger.
Letva nodded almost imperceptibly. His eyes were dead like those of a shark; the grey a startling contrast against his dark hair and stubble. He seemed to be considering something. The driver honked the horn again, making Max jump. Letva switched his gaze to the driver, the piercing stare threatening to turn him to stone. He took another glance at the X5 and then stepped to the side allowing them to move. Letva nodded to Max as the convoy inched forward and then he turned and walked away. As the X5 drew level with him he caught Toni’s eye. A thin smile touched his lips. It sent a shiver down her spine. The convoy pulled onto the road and accelerated away. Toni wanted to leave without looking back but she felt compelled to turn around. When she did, the man with the grey eyes had vanished.
CHAPTER 24
The briefing was underway when Stirling felt his phone vibrating. He checked the screen and opened an unread text message. The forensic laboratory had messaged that the first batch of results were in. He logged into the terminal that he was sitting at and pulled up the information. He scanned the results while Annie summarised the case so far and each department shared their results.
“You have all got summary sheets from the case book to take away and information files have been sent to your computers.” She looked around to make sure everyone was happy and had a copy of the sheets. The MIT was fifty three detectives strong and they were working with representatives from Drug Squad, Matrix, Vice and the various port authorities, which swelled the numbers to over seventy. “I want to start at first base,” Annie continued. “Antonia Barrat received a tipoff from an as yet unknown source that something dodgy was going down at one of the derelict mills on Jamaica Street. We don’t know what she was expecting to witness but she obviously got more than she bargained for.” Disparaging comments were whispered amongst the audience. Annie held up her hand to quieten the room. “I know how most of you feel about the woman but if we’re honest about it, all she’s done is exposed a load of bent coppers in a very public manner.” Silence descended. “I’ll accept that there was some collateral damage from her documentary and that our force came out of it with egg on its chin but if the dirty coppers hadn’t been there...” She let the sentence hang. “We will deal with her in exactly the same way that we would deal with anyone else. She will receive our best efforts and she won’t feel any prejudice towards her from anyone in this room, understand?” She met the eyes of as many of the gathering as she could to reinforce her point. “On the other hand, she doesn’t get any special treatment either. If she messes us about and hinders our investigation then believe me, I will jump on her from a great height.” Annie turned to Sykes from the Drug Squad. “Can you fill us in on what you have so far please?”
Sykes stood up and took off his glasses. Removing them turned the room into a sea of blurred faces. It was
easier for him that way. “About six months ago we began to hear rumours of a new drug that was beginning to seep across Europe. I’m sure that you have all read the updates. For those that haven’t, zombie is a hybrid drug manufactured by mixing PCP with ketamine.” He wiped his glasses on his tie. “In its pure powdered form, it’s lethal. Dealers are cutting it and then pressing it into tablet form so that it can be ingested slowly. If the buyers crush the stuff and try to snort it, smoke it or inject it then they have the trip of their life before they die. Twenty-two deaths in Amsterdam this year alone have been attributed to zombie.” He paused to allow the information to hit home. “Our Matrix officers are telling us that the word is spreading about it rapidly. Everyone wants to try it but it is only available from certain dealers and we don’t know who they are yet.”
“Where is the stuff coming from originally?” A blurred face asked from the back of the room.
“We don’t know the source but we know it is coming in via Amsterdam. The Dutch police have had two officers disappear whilst trying to infiltrate the zombie distribution network. They’re missing presumed dead. Whoever is shipping the zombie is keeping their security tight.” He put his glasses back on and the world came into focus. “We didn’t know anything about this shipment until Antonia Barrat contacted us. Our usual leaks and sources are clueless about this network. Three kilos of uncut zombie is out there somewhere, which could possibly make between ten to fifteen kilos for pressing.” He looked around. “The average tablet weighs three hundred milligrams. We could have forty thousand tablets, minimum, on our streets.”
