by Sarah Flint
She heard the sharp intake of breath and could almost sense Angie’s disappointment down the line. The vision of a large wad of cash slipped into her mind, before, note by note, it started to disappear… along with her chance of a life off the streets with Razor, at least for a short while. She glanced down at her phone, desperately trying to think of an excuse to phone her friend. Along with the missed calls from Ayeisha were texts and photo images.
‘Hang on, Angie,’ she almost shouted, putting the call on to speaker. ‘I might ’ave something.’
Quickly she read through the texts. Ayeisha was bored. She was on her own. Dimitri had left her in his car. She was pissed off. A number of photos downloaded. They were all of Ayeisha, selfies of her friend pouting and posing, reclining against cream leather upholstery, lying across the back seat of an expensive-looking car, seated in front of an open window with a sign saying Welcome to Folkestone clear against a cloudy backdrop. The last two photos were taken outside in the open air. The first showed Ayeisha lying across the bonnet of a sleek silver Mercedes, clearly the vehicle in which she was travelling. Caz held her breath as she opened the last image.
‘Bingo,’ she screamed in delight, as a selfie of her friend crouching down at the front of the same silver car appeared on the screen, with lips pouting and one finger pointing at the registration plate of the brand new Mercedes. ‘You got a pen and paper, Angie?’
*
Dimitri pulled up around the corner from the care home and stalked across to the passenger side. He pulled the door open and indicated for the girl to get out. Having her with him had not gone to plan. Rather than being friendly towards his Slovakian guest, she had remained sulky and steadfastly refused to swap places with her or join her in the rear to make her feel welcome. The return journey had therefore lapsed into long periods of awkward silence. In one respect this was good as it signalled the girl’s growing affection for him and her jealousy at the prospect of his interest in another. On the other hand, it also pointed to prospective difficulties; jealousy was not an emotion that was to be encouraged. It made a house full of females far more difficult to manage.
‘Why can’t I come back with you?’ the girl’s tone was petulant, even though she did at least do as bid and climb out. He swallowed his irritation at her neediness. She would still be a welcome addition to his group in due course, but would clearly need to be handled firmly.
‘I’ve told you.’ He tried to keep his tone soothing. ‘Michaela is experienced. She will fit in straight away.’
‘She doesn’t look experienced to me. She looks more like a child from the countryside, who knows nothing.’ The girl was right. Michaela was an innocent and it would make his job moulding her that much more pleasurable; in fact, just the thought of what he would shortly be doing was already making him light-headed.
‘I want to give you more of my time,’ he reverted to his previous platitudes. ‘I will come for you in a couple of days and then I will be all yours.’ He cupped her face between his hands and leant forward to kiss her.
‘But I can’t wait that long,’ the girl’s voice was whiny now.
‘Well you’ll just have to,’ he snapped, before quickly calming. ‘But I promise I’ll come for you soon.’ He closed the passenger door and started to walk back round to the driver’s side, glad to have a few days’ peace away from her demands.
‘You might want this?’
He turned at the tone of her statement and saw she hadn’t moved. In her hand, she held his knife. She pressed the catch on the handle and the blade shot out. His temper flared at the sight. How dare she delve around in his property! He took a few steps towards her, his arm raised in anger. She flinched and ducked away, her expression fearful, allowing the knife to clatter to the ground. The noise brought him back to his senses. The Slovakian girl could be watching and there was an old man shuffling along the pavement opposite who might also report the disturbance. Quickly, he placed his body between the girl’s outstretched hand and the car, shielding any view of the weapon from Michaela, before bending down to pick it up. For a few seconds he held the knife towards the girl, its blade still open, before slowly folding it away. She was quiet now, all hostility and fight having subsided.
He turned away and opened the door, tucking the knife back in the glove compartment behind the paper bag of GHB. At least she hadn’t touched the drugs.
The girl was still standing to the side of the car. He pushed the door closed and leant towards her.
‘Why did you try to steal my knife?’ he whispered, knowing his question would prompt her to put her defences up.
‘I wasn’t going to steal it,’ the girl looked panicked. ‘I was just going to ask why you had it.’ She cast her eyes down at her feet. ‘I’m sorry.’
He stared at her for what seemed like ages, until she finally raised her head, watching sullenly as he ushered Michaela into the front seat.
‘No matter,’ he said, smiling casually. ‘I will come for you in a few days.’
*
‘We have eyeball on the vehicle, heading north on Streatham High Road. Two occupants, believed to be a male driving and a female front-seat passenger. Standby for confirmation the driver is our target.’
The team stood as one, open-mouthed, hardly daring to breathe. You could hear a pin drop in the office. Cell siting had placed Dimitri heading towards the same area of Norbury that he had come and gone from on previous occasions. Although the reasons for his visits to that area were unknown, Hunter had taken the calculated decision that at some point he would then travel towards Lewisham and the new brothel. The surveillance teams were therefore plotted up on the main road between Norbury and Lewisham. They just had to hope he hadn’t dumped anything off that would be of value to the investigation. It was the best they could do.
‘Positive ID on male known as Dimitri,’ a second voice said across the radio.
‘All received,’ Hunter clapped his hand over the radio handset as Charlie and the rest of the team let out a loud cheer. The relief was palpable. ‘Right let’s go,’ he shouted across to her. ‘We haven’t got time to relax just yet. There’s work to be done.’
Within minutes they were on their way, Charlie driving an unmarked car with Hunter and Paul, closely followed by Naz driving a second, crewed by Sabira and the two detectives from earlier. The armed Trojan team were to follow on but remain nearby as backup, no information having being received that Dimitri was actually armed. After hours of frustration, they were at last out of the office and on the right track.
The surveillance teams were in full flow, their directions clear and fluid.
The Mercedes was easy to track. It stood out in the queues of commercial vehicles, family cars and hatchbacks, its sleek silver livery reflecting the twinkling coloured lights and flashing Christmas displays as it passed through each high street. The traffic moved slowly, but with rush hour now almost over, the queues were dwindling and the previously static lines of vehicles were gradually dispersing. Charlie was easily able to move across South London with blue lights flashing and sirens wailing to skirt around to Lewisham, where Dimitri was clearly heading. As Charlie neared the area, she switched off the twos and blues and slowed, taking streets that ran parallel to the Mercedes, her mind instead concentrating on how to actually play the stop. They couldn’t afford to let Dimitri realise they already knew the trade in which he was involved and that the documents he carried would inevitably be forged. They had to play it cool. She didn’t know how close Angie’s CHIS was to Dimitri and, if it was Caz, her life could literally depend on their actions.
‘Remember, we’re dealing with this as a traffic stop,’ she repeated the team’s plan. ‘And we have to stick to that story, even if it gets difficult.’
‘Target vehicle now passing Lewisham Hospital, still on A21. Slowing down now and indicating left, left, left into Ladywell Road.’ There was a slight pause on the radio before it sparked up again. ‘Now right, right into Algernon Road.’
‘I’ve got it on the map,’ Paul confirmed. ‘Algernon Road doesn’t really lead anywhere, except to a few residential streets so he must be getting close to his destination.’
Charlie could feel her pulse quickening. They would be waiting just around the corner for the go-ahead.
‘Turning right, right, into Marsella Road and slowing.’
Hunter put the radio to his mouth. ‘All units, I repeat my previous instructions. Stay close, but do not attempt to stop this car or any of the occupants until we can identify the actual venue where he’s heading.’
They just had to hope that this time their luck would hold.
Chapter 40
‘Go, Go, Go.’ The voice of the surveillance officer was clear. ‘Target male parked up outside number thirty-two and at the front door to the building now.’
Hunter indicated with his hand for Charlie to move forward. Initially it would only be them. Naz and her crew were waiting around the corner, as were the armed Trojan units, and further local units could be summoned if necessary. Who knew what they might face inside the building.
Charlie drove slowly, not wanting to spook Dimitri with screeching tyres or excessive speed. This was just a routine stop. As she pulled level to the Mercedes, she saw two large men stepping out from the front of number thirty-two towards the roadway. There was no mistaking the figures of Dimitri and his minder Albertas, or whoever they actually were from the CCTV at the hire company. The two men hesitated as Charlie and her colleagues climbed out of their car, clearly recognising them as police, even though none wore uniforms. A word was said between them and Albertas backed away into the house, shutting the door firmly.
Dimitri continued to walk towards them, his manner calm.
‘Do you realise you’re parked on double yellow lines?’ Charlie asked, holding out her warrant card towards the man and indicating parallel yellow stripes that were fortuitously running alongside the kerb. She could hear Hunter whispering orders to Naz for them to deploy on foot and keep watch on the house. Subconsciously, her hand moved to check her ASP and CS spray were safely stowed within her jacket. The situation bristled with danger and having to act casually was against everything her head and nerves were communicating.
‘I’m sorry, officer. I’ll only be here a few minutes. I’m just dropping off a friend.’ He pointed towards a young girl sat in the passenger seat of the car. The girl made no move to get out.
‘Is this your vehicle?’ Charlie engaged him.
‘Well, it’s a hire car, if that’s what you mean, officer?’ Dimitri replied, smiling confidently. ‘I hired it a day or so ago. I have all the documents if you need to check.’
He reached into his inside jacket pocket and carefully pulled out a wallet containing a wad of documents, leafing through them until he found the hire agreement. He passed it across and Charlie stared down at the name Leo Markin, momentarily wondering if she could have passed over it on the list of passengers. It didn’t sound that Russian.
‘Is this you?’ she pointed at the words. ‘Leo Markin?’
Dimitri was nodding his head. ‘Yes, ma’am, that’s me. I have my driving licence if you wish to see it.’ He rooted through the wallet again and passed across a driving licence ID card. Charlie stared down at it in the gloom. It was a UK licence with the name Leo Markin and a photo of the same man as was standing in front of her. A check would no doubt reveal, just as his last licence had, that there was a genuine male named Leo Markin who had a British licence. It wouldn’t be Dimitri though, or whoever the hell this man in front of her was. Lifting it up towards the light, she could see a hologram across the front of the photo. It was an excellent forgery and she knew he would suspect something was up if she questioned its validity. He’d probably been stopped many times before with similar licences and got away with it.
She needed to come up with something quickly, because at the moment all his documents were in order and apart from the fact that he had parked on yellow lines there was nothing that she could use to keep him or arrest him that wouldn’t risk immediately giving the game away.
‘I’ll just do a few checks,’ she said, desperate to buy time. She’d made a promise to Angie.
She ran the driving licence through the computer and it was as she thought. It would take hours to circumnavigate Data Protection and get a photo of the real Leo Markin sent through from the DVLA. She checked on the name he had given and there was no trace of any previous convictions, so there was no existing custody photo that he could be compared against.
Dimitri stood patiently to one side, his expression appearing almost cocky.
Paul sidled over from where he had been standing next to the girl, still seated in the car. She was claiming to speak no English, so there was nothing he could suggest from any conversation that would help, but Charlie couldn’t allow Dimitri to think he had the upper hand.
‘I’ll just run a check on the car,’ she said, reading out the registration number over her radio. An initial check when Angie had first phoned it in had revealed it as correctly registered to a nearby hire car company, with nothing further of note, but it would give her a further few seconds of precious thinking time. At the moment she had three options. Arrest him on suspicion of running a brothel and for his possible involvement in the death of the baby, but to do so would risk compromising the safety of their informant. Make up a fictitious reason to arrest him, which would no doubt later come out in disclosure and might then still potentially identify their informant, as well as leading to a complaint for abuse of process.
Or let him go… and that was unthinkable.
‘Are you free to speak?’ The question came back across the radio.
Charlie perked up. The control room only usually asked this if they had sensitive information that a police officer might not want a suspect to hear. But then there had been nothing of note earlier. She nodded to Paul and stepped away, giving the go-ahead.
‘Your vehicle should be a silver Mercedes C class saloon registered to a hire company in Forest Hill. It was involved in a disturbance with a female half an hour ago in the Norbury area,’ a voice said over the radio. ‘Information from a passer-by states that the male driver was seen to threaten a female with a knife.’
*
Dimitri noticed the body language of the woman officer change as she spoke into the radio. It was subtle, but he picked up on these types of things. Her stance was straighter and her expression more assured as she stepped closer.
‘I’ve just received information that the male driver of this car was involved in a disturbance a short time ago in the Norbury area. A knife was seen.’
He bristled. How the hell could she know this? He thought back quickly, remembering the old man shuffling along the street. It must have been him, sticking his nose in where it wasn’t wanted, but it was all the girl’s fault. If she hadn’t touched his belongings he would be on his way. The stupid little cow had caused all this. His mind was racing fast. He knew what would happen now.
‘My name’s DC Charlie Stafford,’ the officer said, taking a step towards him. ‘And I’m going to search you and your car for weapons.’ She took hold of his arm.
Suddenly he knew what he had to do. He jerked it from her grasp. There was no way this bitch was going to search him. She lunged towards him again, grabbing his sleeve, and again he pulled away, struggling violently to escape. Three bodies flew against him, pushing him back against the bonnet of the car. He tossed and turned, freeing an arm and pushing his body on to one side. He could see Michaela’s face tear-stained and petrified, staring out from the interior of the car. As he was twisted round and pushed face down against the Mercedes’ smart silver bonnet, his eyes found hers and he held them, not breaking the connection until he was hauled to his feet. Through the melee, his warning was delivered plain and unambiguous. It was the same message he gave to all his girls: Open your mouth just one single time and your family will die.
*
C
harlie stepped to one side as a van screeched to a halt and a couple of uniformed officers jumped out, taking control of Dimitri. Hunter, having summoned extra help, was now barking commands down the radio, ensuring Naz had the house surrounded and secure and requesting Sabira join them to speak to the girl. Dimitri was handcuffed and detained for the purposes of a search. Quite clearly he had something to hide – or at least she hoped he did. They still needed an obvious substantive offence to secure his arrest and allow them access to the house. She let Paul do the honours, watching as he went through each pocket thoroughly, patting him down as much as he could to check for hidden items.
The man had regained his composure now, looking almost smug as each pocket was cleared.
‘Who was the man you were with just now?’ Charlie asked.
‘He is my friend. I run errands for him.’
‘He’s not a very good friend if he’s not come back out to check you’re all right.’
‘Why would he come out? He can see you are police and he doesn’t like police.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘Nobody likes police.’
‘Only if they have something to hide.’ She’d had enough of Dimitri’s taunts. Leaving the uniformed officers to hold him, she and Paul moved across to the Mercedes. The young girl was with Sabira now, seated comfortably in the rear of their police car whilst her colleague tried to persuade the girl to talk. So far, she had said nothing, other than to give her name as Michaela and the fact she was from Slovakia.
The interior of the hire car smelt new and, apart from two small bags stowed in the boot, looked to have little in it. Charlie took the passenger side whilst Paul searched the driver’s. The first thing she saw when she opened the glove compartment was a brown paper bag. She opened it and immediately recognised the clear fluid contained in six vials as illegal drugs, almost certainly GHB. She’d come across similar on a few occasions recently. Behind the paper bag was a flick knife. Relief flooded through her as she reached in and carefully placed the weapon straight into an exhibit tube. The two items were all she could have hoped for.
