Guts for Garters

by Linda Regan

  She walked back up the hallway and peered into the kitchen as Banham walked out and headed down the hall. Everything in the kitchen was neat and in place, but she noticed the smell wasn’t as strong in here.

  She came out of the kitchen and walked back down the hallway, checking the rooms again. Banham had gone into the bathroom.

  At the end of the hallway was another door. She opened the door. There was a small single bed in the corner. It wasn’t made-up, it displayed an old stained mattress covering the bed springs.

  She closed the door behind her and breathed in the stale smell again. There was a cupboard at the end of the corridor, Georgia knew that from Alysha’s flat, which followed the same layout. She walked over to the cupboard. The latch wasn’t fully down. As she touched it the door swung quickly towards her, feeling heavy as it swung against her. As she took a step backwards, Mrs Wilkins’ body fell on top of her. It was soaked in congealing blood.

  ‘Guv,’ Georgia shouted, as she leaned in further and saw the body of Mr Wilkins, a screwdriver in the artery at the side of his neck, covered in blood and face down on the cupboard floor.

  The blood that had run down the inside of the cupboard door was only just congealing. The couple hadn’t been dead very long. The ceiling and the walls too were splattered, as was the floor underneath them.

  She checked for any signs of life. There was none. But they hadn’t been dead long. The killer, or killers, couldn’t have gone far, and were bound to be covered in blood.

  Georgia had her phone to her ear. ‘All units, Aviary Estate, Magpie block, requesting ambulance and urgent forensic team.’

  Banham was standing the other end of the hall. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I can’t, I really can’t, I’m sorry.’

  But Georgia wasn’t listening. She was thinking about the two youths in hooded tops, who had run when they saw her approaching the flat.

  Twelve

  Banham went outside to try to talk to the neighbours while Georgia made the necessary emergency calls. Predictably, none of the neighbours admitted seeing anyone walking along the walkway earlier that morning, nor did they admit hearing anything, although all were keen to know what was going on.

  Banham walked back in to the flat and joined Georgia in the lounge to wait for the forensic team and the doctor to arrive.

  ‘Those two hooded youths that we saw as we came onto Magpie block earlier,’ Georgia reminded Banham. ‘They hurried past us, hands in their pockets. They had their heads down too. Can you remember what they were wearing?

  ‘Dark grey hooded fleece tops and jeans,’ Banham told her. ‘I’ve instructed the uniform team with a description, they’re scouring the estate now. Unfortunately I didn’t get a look at the faces.’

  Georgia shook her head. ‘Nor did I, but one was much taller than the other.’ Banham nodded his agreement.

  ‘Both grey hoodies, but my recollection is one wore baggy khaki trousers.’

  ‘The other dark blue jeans.’ Banham said.

  Georgia nodded. ‘Yup, and both wore trainers.’ She shook her head and frowned, ‘Wait till the press hear about this, they’ll have a field day.’

  ‘So we have to get moving and find their killer. Have you spoken to Alison?’

  She shook her head again. ‘She’s bringing the Ghazianis in.’

  ‘But you spoke to Barry, didn’t you?’

  ‘Yes. He’ll ring back when they’ve picked up the family, and then they are coming over here.’

  ‘Good,’ Banham nodded.

  ‘I wish we could get the CCTV on this estate working again. It’s been broken for two years now,’ Georgia reminded him. ‘Last council worker that tried to fix it got mugged, so it remains broken.’ She shrugged. ‘Means we can’t see who came and went in the last few hours.’

  ‘Good morning, again.’ It was the bright voice of Max Pettifer and the forensic team arriving. Pettifer put his head round the door, took one look at Banham, and burst out laughing. ‘Someone needs to make you a nice strong cup of tea,’ he said chuckling and raising his rabbit ear eyebrows a few millimetres. He disappeared, chuckling to himself, as the uniformed officer showed him down the corridor to the old couple’s bodies.

  The outside of the flat had now been cordoned off and access to the first floor completely blocked. That would prove interesting, Georgia thought, at least the residents living on this level would now have to communicate with the police, even if it was to complain about having to walk around to the fire escape at the back of the building to get to their front door.

  The youngers had also started arriving in the grounds below. They were shouting up, questioning the police, ever hoping for the first bit of info so they could cycle off and sell it to the elders and make enough to buy themselves a McDonalds meal. Older residents were also stopping and staring as they passed nearby, some hanging around for a few minutes before wandering off. Banham and Georgia left Max Pettifer and his team to do their work, and went to join the search for the two hooded youths they had seen earlier. Both knowing full well, that on an estate this size, and with the attitude that the residents held towards the police, the job was comparable to finding a needle in a haystack. However, it was a starting point. They discussed calling out Indie 999, the police helicopter, but Georgia pointed out the estate was riddled with youths hanging around, all wearing hoodies and trainers and looking similar from the air. A ground search was best. They agreed to split, each of them could take a group of uniformed officers and a couple of sniffer dogs.

  Hooded youths seemed to be around every corner, some with peaked caps under the hoods, preventing anyone getting a good look at their faces. Why couldn’t they ban the wearing of hoods, Georgia thought. Hoods wasted more manpower time, when searching for a person on CCTV cameras, than anything else.

  Fortunately Georgia had a sharp memory. One youth was short and thin, wearing baggy khaki combat trousers; his mate was taller and broader and wore denim jeans with large leg pockets (for carrying weapons, Georgia thought, or bloodstained clothes perhaps; the killer would have blood on their clothes with an artery stabbing, that was for sure). Both youths wore grey hoodies, one a peaked cap too. They had seemingly vanished, or changed their clothes. Still, there were many youths standing around, in packs. No schools or jobs to go to, Georgia thought sadly, as she questioned blank and indifferent faces. ‘I ain’t heard, or seen, nothing,’ was the answer each one gave her. No wonder so many of them turn to drugs and crime, Georgia mused, Alysha Achter was right, there was nothing around here for them to do. Her eyes scanned the broken-down, burnt-out community hall, and then the play area, with the remains of an old child’s train lying broken in the dirt, beside the rusted slide covered in faeces; the place once called the kids’ area.

  Banham’s words jumped into her head. ‘ If you start feeling sorry for them, then you should be a social worker, not a murder detective.’ She turned her attention away from the play area and focused, now she had four murders to solve, and no clue to hang her hat on; she needed to think. She could see those two youths, clearly, in her mind, the khaki combats, so low slung, hanging from thin bony hips, the crotch nearly even with his knees. She had also noticed his small feet. Thinking about his mate, taller and broader, she remembered, clearly, the large leg pockets of his denim jeans, but couldn’t remember seeing anything in them. Both had their hands dug into their pockets, and both walked with their heads bent low. They could have come from anywhere, they might not even live on or around this estate, they might well not be the killers, or they might have done the deed, and were now safely back on home ground, maybe miles away.

  A word with Alysha Achter was needed. Alysha knew, mostly, everyone on or around this estate. But with the strong police presence around, and now two more murders, the girl would be nervous, so Georgia would wait for an hour or so.

  So why murder Mr and Mrs Wilkins? Georgia asked herself. The empty lock-up, she felt sure, was involved. There were still SOCO officers working at the gar
age, hopefully that would shed a light. Harisha Celik had accused Alysha of starting a dangerous gang, of trading drugs and weapons. Alysha was on probation; if she was found to be in any way involved with drugs and firearms, she’d find herself in youth offenders’, and Georgia would lose her best snout. Georgia paid her well, so she knew she had enough money, and Alysha had told Georgia countless times that the prostitution, the drugs and handling of guns, was in her past. Georgia had no reason not to believe her, Alysha’s information was always right, and Harisha was known to be involved in the firearms trade – only no one could prove it, as yet.

  Her phone chirped. It was Stephanie.

  ‘You’ve heard about the Wilkinses, then?’ she said as she picked up.

  ‘Yes, I’m on my way over to you. And we’ve arrested the Ghazianis, the mother and father.’

  ‘And Wajdi?’

  ‘He wasn’t there. He’s at the shop, according to the parents. Alison’s gone to meet Barry and Eric there to pick him up.’

  ‘Interesting. Business as usual when their daughter has just been burnt alive? Did the parents get aggressive?’

  ‘Yup. They refused to answer any questions unless we released their daughter’s body. I explained that we needed to keep it, to help find her killer. So Mrs Ghaziani threw a cup of tea at me, and Barry arrested her for assault.’

  ‘She likes burning people then?’

  ‘Yeah, like the iron burn was an accident, too. The father attacked Barry as he arrested her, so Eric arrested him. They are strong suspects, ma’am.’

  ‘Yes they are, for Zana’s murder, but they couldn’t have murdered the Wilkinses. They hadn’t been dead long when we found them.’

  ‘Wajdi could have killed them. We don’t know yet that he is at the shop.’

  ‘The Wilkinses knew something,’ Georgia said. ‘And someone knew they were going to tell us what they knew. So what was it? And how did that someone know?

  ‘Answer that and we are half way there.’

  ‘It has to be to do with their lock-up.’ Georgia pressed her phone to her ear with her shoulder and used her spare hand to flatten the wiry stray hairs that were blowing out of place at side of her carefully gelled ponytail. She pulled the clip from the side of her hair and re-clipped it tidily over the stray strands, and then ran her fingers, busily, through her ponytail as a way of combing it. ‘Alysha Achter tells us that Celik took the lock-up from them, to use for storage of arms and drugs, but it’s empty. Alysha’s info has always been right, so I reckon Celik was tipped off that the Wilkins were going to talk. He cleared the garage, and then silenced them.’

  ‘’Cept he doesn’t do his own dirty work.’

  ‘No, he doesn’t. I’m looking for two youths I saw earlier near the Magpie Block. I think they may well have seen something.’

  ‘I’m still on with the Ghazianis being involved,’ Stephanie said. ‘Honour killing, we know families who have had their kids killed just for looking at a bloke. You said yourself Harisha could be in the back of that photo because he was paid by the Ghazianis, to sort out Zana. And let’s not forget Burak Kaya was killed within yards from the Wilkins’ flat. So maybe there is a link.’

  ‘You think Celik would really have Burak Kaya killed? He’s his cousin.’

  ‘Maybe he didn’t,’ Stephanie argued. ‘Maybe this was a plan that went wrong. Maybe Wajdi killed Burak for going with his sister, and Harisha Celik killed Zana in revenge. Just food for thought.’

  ‘What does Alison think? ’

  ‘I rang her. She was just leaving McDonalds in Lambeth, and on her way to meet Eric and Barry.’

  ‘What was she doing at McDonalds in Lambeth?’

  ‘Meeting Melek Yismaz.’

  ‘She didn’t tell me. When did she decide to meet Melek Yismaz?’

  ‘Oh, sorry, guv, I thought she had. Melek rang her during the post-mortem. She said she has important information on Celik. It turns out she wants him charged with rape.’

  ‘Hang on, Alison was at the post-mortem?’

  ‘Yes.’

  There was a pause. ‘The DCI told her not to go.’

  ‘She didn’t like being told by Banham, personal reasons, so, she went.’

  Georgia blew out air. ‘And Melek is bringing a charge against Harisha for rape?’

  ‘Yup. She’s given Alison a statement.’

  ‘Well that’s terrific news. We can arrest Celik again. I’ll let the DCI know, and when you get here, we’ll go and get Celik.’ She paused and then added. ‘I won’t mention Alison being at the post-mortem, though, I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.’

  ‘Did you know Zana was pregnant?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Part of a burned foetus was found in her womb during the post-mortem,’ Stephanie said quietly.

  The hair on Georgia’s back ran cold.

  ‘Fortunately Alison wasn’t in the room when Max Pettifer announced it. I’m not sure she would have coped if she had of been. She was quite traumatised when I told her.’

  ‘I’m not surprised. A fire victim on your first day back isn’t the best way to restart your career in the murder department, and then a burned foetus, that’s too much. We have to remember she took compassionate leave after losing a friend in a fire.’

  ‘Yes, quite.’

  ‘Banham was right, then, wasn’t he? She shouldn’t have gone to the post-mortem. She isn’t ready to fling herself in the deep end.’

  ‘We’ll have to keep our eyes on her.’

  ‘We’re investigating four murders,’ Georgia said sharply. ‘We’ve got enough to cope with, we are not nannies.’

  ‘I’ll remind you of that next time you mention Alysha Achter’s welfare.’

  ‘She my snout, I have a professional duty to be concerned for her welfare,’ Georgia argued. She was walking towards the Sparrow estate now and had her eyes peeled all the while she was talking. ‘Alison is a senior investigating officer. If she can’t look after herself then she shouldn’t be doing the job. A vulnerable old couple and two murdered teenagers are our priority right now.’

  ‘Yes, but Alison is one of us.’

  ‘Of course she is,’ Georgia said softly, ‘and, we’ll keep our eyes on her.’ Her tone then changed back to the professional one. ‘The press will be on this like vultures very soon.’ The thought of headlines, accusing the police of not being able to protect an elderly couple on a dangerous estate had jumped into her mind. ‘We are against the clock here. And I agree there may be two killers out there, and there may be a link, and someone around here will have seen or heard something, but we need answers. We were fighting a wall of silence before, now with this murder, we’ll never get witnesses to come forward. We have to work flat out to find evidence.’

  ‘My money is still on the Ghazianis, especially now we know Zana was pregnant.’

  ‘How long before we know who the father was?’

  ‘Ask Max Pettifer. You know what he’s like. She imitated his Scottish accent. ‘ The tests will take as long as they take, and if that involves more tests, then they will take as long as they take. There you have your answer. Or not.’

  ‘He’s just arrived down here, now, on this crime scene,’ Georgia told Stephanie. ‘So it could be days.’

  ‘Melek Yismaz told us told us Zana was in a relationship with Burak Kaya, but she also said she slept around. So another scenario worth considering is that Burak found out it wasn’t his baby. He was an SLR gang member. Perhaps he ordered her killing, and then someone got to hear of it, like Wajdi Ghaziani, and got to him first.’

  ‘And the Wilkinses heard or saw something?’

  ‘That could fit.’

  Georgia noticed three girls standing together by the stairs to Sparrow block. One was Alysha Achter. She put her hand up and indicated that she wanted her to stay there.

  ‘Talk of the devil. I’ve just spotted Alysha Achter,’ she told Stephanie, ‘I’ll talk later. Get back to Alison, tell her as soon as they have picked up Wajdi,
to get over here. When they do, you and I can go and get Harisha Celik.’

  ‘Will do.’

  ‘Let me know as soon as you arrive. ’

  ‘Will do.’

  Alysha was leaning against the stairway at the corner of Sparrow block. She was with Panther and Lox. Panther’s hair was typically wild. She wore a cream hooded sweatshirt under a sleeveless padded gold jacket. Her hand was against her chubby face and Georgia noticed the tattoo of a cat on her forefinger, and her long plastic nails which were painted black. Lox Georgia had known since the girl had worked the streets. She was also on probation. Pencil-thin, her face was pale but her skin clear. A sign, Georgia knew, that she had stayed off the drugs. She was very pretty, although nervous as a rabbit under her tough exterior. Today her long dark green-streaked hair was tied back in a tidy bun, and, in her neat red velour tracksuit, a hooker was the last thing she looked. Georgia liked her, she knew that Lox too was a victim of circumstance. She had come from a well-to-do home, been abused by her father, had run away, ended up in a horrific world of drugs and street prostitution. Without Alysha’s help, Georgia was confident that Lox would have been found dead in an alleyway by now. Alysha was fifteen going on forty, and a very good influence on all the lost souls around the estate. How could Georgia not want to help Alysha? Alysha herself had had no help in life but wanted to help everyone else, and in doing so was helping the police clean up the estate.

  ‘I need to talk to you,’ Georgia said to her.

  Alysha looked from Panther to Lox.

  ‘Have you been hanging around the estate grounds all morning?’ Georgia asked Alysha.

  ‘Who’s dead?’ Panther asked.

  ‘Shut up, Panther,’ Lox said quickly.

  ‘No, it’s all right. I’m not on your case, Lox,’ Georgia assured her. ‘I am here to ask for help. I need to find two youths I saw earlier. Both were wearing grey hooded tops and trainers, one was in khaki combat trousers, the other denim jeans. Have any of you seen anyone who matches that description hanging around?’