Hell's Gate: A gripping, edge-of-your-seat crime thriller

by Malcolm Hollingdrake

  “We have a name, Cezar. He’s likely to be a Romany, a scrap collector and we have a phone number.”

  Stuart came straight in. “Phone is untraceable. It’s been, if you pardon the term, sir, scrapped. It’s a throw away.”

  “Knew it! Right, speaking of scrapped, what of the two flat bed trucks, Owen?”

  “One local. Registered to a Raymond Benson, a local farmer. Sold to a scrap dealer who drove it away, the day before Drew Sadler’s body was found.”

  “Where’s the farm?”

  “Summerbridge. Officer attending as we speak to see if the buyer is our man but Benson’s verbal description indicates that he is.”

  “Liz, what of Mr and Mrs Baines?”

  “Although she seemed angry that Mr Baines had been here, she seemed relieved too. She has no problem with having a watch on the house, but she’d prefer us not to talk to Joan about it. She also identified the man in the photograph as the one who came to collect the money and made the threats.”

  Owen looked at Liz.

  “Sir, the funeral’s planned for Thursday. Could bringing Joan in for a chat wait? If we find him before then, fine, if not, then nothing’s spoiling. Anton’s here and we have him for twenty-four hours, possibly longer.”

  “Yes, you’re right, of course, Liz. I’ll attend the funeral with you. It’s important that we show our support. Anything else, anyone?”

  “Sir, just received a call to say the farmer has confirmed a photo match with the purchaser of his vehicle. The buyer’s our man.”

  “Owen, get over to the farm and get as much info as possible. He was obviously not alone if he drove it away. Anything. See if he has details of the other person and other vehicle. Check if the farm has CCTV. I doubt it, but with more and more rural theft, you never know. Right, go over everything again. Liaise with the team at Anton’s place and keep everything up to speed. Miss nothing. Liz, Stuart you’re with me. We’re going to have a chat with Mr Anton but first I need a coffee and a strong one.”

  Chapter Twenty Five

  It has to be said that the interview room was not a pleasant environment in which to sit alone with only your thoughts and your guilt. A degree of uncertainty and anxiety was clearly evident in Anton’s body language; anyone brought in and left alone in an interview room would demonstrate a similar profile. His fingers tapped the table and his opposite foot bounced nervously. The longer he waited, the better. The solitary figure reminded Cyril of Negrescu, they both demonstrated a similar posture and attitude to authority that he concluded must be cultural traits.

  Cyril, Liz and Stuart walked in and Peter stood but said nothing initially.

  “Mr Anton, my name is Detective Chief Inspector Bennett.” He emphasised his rank. “You’ve met DS Graydon when she read you your rights during your arrest.”

  Cyril looked up and smiled.

  “This is DC Park, I believe you met him at your office, yes? You were read your rights, I take it, Mr Anton, when you were arrested?”

  “I need to speak with my lawyer and I’d like him present. I’d like to make a call now!” Anton demanded, the sudden steely look in his eyes seeming to back up his demand.

  Cyril passed him his mobile phone and folded his arms.

  “The call has to be in private. You know that. I have my own phone. I should like it returning so that I may make the call.”

  The phone was brought and the three officers left.

  It took just over an hour for Anton’s lawyer to arrive. Cyril spoke with him, disclosing the reason for his client’s arrest. His statement was deliberately brief. He was shown into an office and Peter was brought in. They shook hands and waited for the door to close.

  “Drugs, Peter, handling drugs in connection with Drew Sadler. There is a forensic search of your property, taking place right now. We know that, even though that information was not forthcoming. Why now, do you think?”

  “It must be Cezar, they’re closing in on him. He told me the other day that he was spotted at the restaurant.”

  “You’re right and believe me Mr Yau is very upset. You’re going to talk about your past, you’ve done it before when you were interviewed at your place of work but whatever you do, say nothing that might implicate the others, apart from Cezar, that is. We’ve prepared this. Read it.”

  Both men looked at each other and smiled.

  They were returned to the interview room. Liz sat to one side, leaving Cyril to face Peter and his solicitor.

  “You know why you’ve been arrested, Mr Anton? Handling and distributing drugs for favour or financial gain.”

  There was a long pause.

  “At the moment a Forensics’ team is working through your property.”

  Peter looked at his solicitor who nodded and smiled encouragingly.

  “I had little choice, Chief Inspector. If I’d not done what was asked of me you’d have been investigating another mysterious, grizzly death. You’ve yet to meet this man, you have no idea what he’s like. I’ve experienced such men, my stepfather was just the same, pure and bloody evil. In my country people lived under the clenched fist of Communism for years and years and men like Cezar thrived under the protective banner of the Securitate. They were nothing but political thugs who controlled every element of society from assassinations to punishment squads. They even checked if women were having abortions and if so, gave them the choice of prostitution or a lengthy prison sentence. These guys were demonic, they were predictably callous. If you wanted a man to confess to the killing of Jesus Christ, just give him to some of those bastards who lurked in the bowels of the Police buildings; if they didn’t confess, they disappeared and if they did confess, they still disappeared: that was the predictability of life in those days. After the revolution, these people, these animals, survived even though they were no longer protected by the new regime. They moved here, to this country and more will come, they will form their own groups and slowly they’ll be a major criminal fraternity. So why did I do it? To save my bloody skin.”

  “Tell me about your first meeting with him.”

  “I was at University and I found myself in debt, a little gambling. I paid my debts by working every hour I could. I worked at the local Chinese Cash and Carry and managed to repay the money I owed. They employed me after qualifying, as you well know. Sergeant Owen has all my employment details. I was recommended to Hai Yau and he became one of my private clients. I then met a girl, Stella Gornall, who was fun and beautiful but in time she became very demanding emotionally and financially. She told me that she was pregnant and that the child was mine. She started dabbling in drugs and she introduced me to the man who was able to supply her needs. That’s how Cezar came into my life. I don’t know who contacted whom first but he was soon a part of us.”

  “So what happened to Stella?” Liz asked. “And what happened to the child?”

  “I realised that my life was going down the toilet, more bills, more drugs and then the booze. Eventually we couldn’t pay the rent, we couldn’t pay for the drugs, no, that’s inaccurate, I couldn’t pay, Stella sat at home and watched T.V. The place became a tip. Then there were the other guys who called, unbeknown to me at first, but it became obvious as the drugs kept appearing. I couldn’t leave her until it dawned on me that she was being pimped by Cezar. Anyway, in the end I had to leave but by this time, Cezar had his claws deeply set in my hide. I’d pass on the occasional package and he kept himself to himself, he wouldn’t bother me and that was fine. Without Stella, I started to get my life back under control. Missed Rose though, I guess I still do.”

  “Who’s Rose?” quizzed Liz.

  “Our daughter. Stella and me.”

  Cyril looked at Liz warning her to say nothing.

  “Still gambling, Mr Anton?”

  “I’m working on curbing my habit. Not like before, but I enjoy playing poker and that’s the reason I got involved with Drew Sadler. You won’t believe me but I genuinely tried to help him and Joan.”

&nb
sp; “Did you supply him with the drugs?”

  Peter nodded. “Yes and I’m sorry now but, as I’ve said…”

  His solicitor leaned across and put his hand on his arm as if to stop him.

  “Did you know that Stella’s daughter is called Christina and that she was fathered by Cezar?” Cyril looked directly at Peter, folded his arms and leaned back in his chair. “We have the DNA evidence to prove it.”

  Peter looked at his solicitor with a genuine look of shock and confusion. Fighting the disbelief and the growing inner anger, he collected his emotions after a few moments to ask, “How is Rose or Christina?”

  Liz spoke immediately. “She’s well.”

  Cyril wanted to pursue his thoughts on the child now that they had destabilised him. “What did you talk to Cezar about at the restaurant the other day?”

  “I shouldn’t have been there really. I went in to ensure that Joan and her mother were looked after but he was there. I bumped into him coming out of the toilet as I was going in. He wanted me to drop off a package, yes, before you ask, probably drugs or money for drugs, I didn’t ask. He asked how Joan was and suggested he’d find out for himself. Inspector you know what he was suggesting? He was threatening. If I didn’t take the package he would rape her and believe me, he would.”

  Cyril looked at Liz and raised an eyebrow, knowing that the historic DNA evidence against Cezar supported that possibility.

  “And so, what happened?”

  “I took the package. I dropped it where he’d said.” He turned to his solicitor who nodded. “I dropped it in a litter bin on the Leeds Road.”

  “Sorry, let’s get this straight. You were to drop it in a litter bin? Why couldn’t he do that?”

  Peter laughed. “Because he was testing me, seeing if I was still loyal, seeing if I could be trusted. He probably collected the fucking stuff himself straight afterwards, how do I know? Look, I’ve learned the painful way. Follow instructions, keep your head down and don’t believe in fairies or angels for that matter. Believe me there is a hell on this earth because sometimes I’ve learned that the angels and the devil can be one and the same thing.”

  Cyril made a note; somehow the sentence struck a chord.

  “That’s the truth, the honest truth, unless you’re going to get me to admit to killing Jesus Christ and then…I’m here for ever.”

  “What, of all this, does Joan know?’

  “Nothing, simply nothing and to be honest, she’s the only true and honest human being I know right now. I’d do anything, and I mean anything to protect her. Deal drugs for Cezar? Too right I will, if it keeps her safe. There’ll come a time when someone will get bored with Cezar. He’ll make too many mistakes and then, with luck, he’ll just disappear. If that had happened sooner, then I wouldn’t be here now. Drew might have straightened his life out and some people might still have their teeth and have needed fewer stitches, who knows? Life is about dealing with the now, not the what ifs. Yes, to carrying his drugs, to being afraid, to having to look over my shoulder every day, I’m guilty and I’m so sorry but, Chief Inspector, I’m still here to talk to you and if I’d refused at any time, I wouldn’t be!”

  “Peter Anton, you’ve admitted to possessing and dealing with class ‘A’ drugs. I’ve two choices considering your frank statement. I’m in a position to charge you now or you can be bailed pending further enquiries. I need to speak with my colleagues and then your solicitor.”

  Cyril and Liz left the room so that Peter could confer with his solicitor. He would then either be taken to the cells or released once the bail was set.

  ***

  Cyril inhaled the menthol vapour and sipped a coffee. Liz was silent too.

  “He thought Christina was his, you know that?” Liz said interrupting the silence.

  Cyril nodded.

  “I think I might sell my grandmother if this Cezar guy, who seems to be as evil as they come, told me to.”

  “You know Liz, when Cezar knows that we have Anton, he’s going to do something daft. Let’s put Anton out on bail and let’s see if he attracts our guy.”

  “You can’t put him in danger. You know Cezar’s a total nutter and you can also probably predict the outcome.”

  Cyril just looked at her. “When you’re between a rock and a hard place you have but one choice. And in the words of today’s youth… Am I bothered?”

  “What if he targets the kids?”

  “My gut says not, he wants Anton.”

  “I’ll set up a close watch on his house and at his work place, I’ll liaise with Leeds,” Liz instigated.

  Owen walked in.

  “You two look as though you’ve lost a fiver and found a tanner, I bring tidings of great joy! Our farmer friend has the details of the purchaser on the V5 return but it’s cobblers. He said that he was with a female who drove a green van. Registration number turns out to belong to a green van owned by a guy in a place called Orrell which is…”

  “Near Wigan!” Cyril interrupted. “Used to have a good rugby union team. Go on Owen, stop stating the bloody obvious!”

  “He said that his son recognised the van, a Mercedes Sprinter, short wheel base. He told me that it’s an unusual colour for a Sprinter as they’re usually always white. Says he’s seen it a few times around Greys Lane, just off Forest Lane Head.”

  Owen waited for Cyril to digest this information but he just looked at Owen patiently, vapour trickling out of each nostril.

  “And?” Cyril asked knowing Owen was keen to continue.

  “Rares Negresco had his caravan just off Forest Lane Head near to Greys Lane. That’s where I first saw Cezar, said he’d stopped for a piss, the lying bastard.”

  “Liz, when you’ve organised Anton’s watch, take two officers and go and check it out. Show his photo-fit to anyone in the cottages near by. Print off a picture of this type of van off the web. Make sure that it’s green if you can and show that too. Get traffic to set up a patrol car on Forest Lane Head by the junction of Greys Lane and get them to stop motorists and make enquiries. The locals should have seen him or the van. I’ll have back-up standing by should you need it, but to be honest, the old gut says he no longer calls at that address.”

  ***

  Sanda looked nervous. It was unusual to be brought into the office. She was alone. Angel and Hai Yau were in the kitchen. She had been told to wait. The more Angel looked at her, the more she despised him. She was more than grateful that she would not be alone in the room with him. Father and son entered.

  “Sit please, Sanda. We’ve been discussing the help you gave us when the police called. Your quick thinking saved the day. My son seemed to freeze and be incapable of clear thought. Fortunately everyone reacted as they should have done and said nothing at all but you, Sanda, you spoke up, you were as creative in your thinking as you are in our kitchen.”

  Her eyes fell on Angel’s and she could read his thoughts before censoring them by looking away. She felt a shudder at the thought of him in the barn.

  “We must get you to learn English and then, who knows? What I do know is that you are now my second in command in the kitchen; you have been promoted to a position of trust. As I said before, it will mean more money and your own room. You already work hard and the other staff members respect you. What do you say?”

  Sanda looked down and locked her hands in front of her. She lifted her head, looked at Hai Yau and smiled. “Thank you so much. I shall work hard.”

  “In my home town we have a saying, Sanda. It’s this: Skills can never be one’s burden. We’ll give you many skills.”

  Hai Yau approached, lifted her to her feet and kissed her on both cheeks. “Your new job begins now. We’ll go and inform the staff.”

  Angel stood and moved to her but she turned away. His father noticed the rebuff but he simply smiled. He spoke in English so that Sanda would not fully understand.

  “If you want this one, you will have to earn her respect. She has a will and a mind of her own. N
either you nor your position frightens her. So now you must try to win back the trust you have so obviously lost, my son. Is that understood? She works for me and you will respect that privileged position by keeping these off her.” He waved his hands. “Understood my son?”

  Sanda looked at Angel. She could feel his resentment and inside she suddenly felt in control. She smiled at his father and went into the kitchen.

  ***

  The large Police van filled Peter Anton’s drive its darkened windows offering privacy. There was no police tape barrier but a uniformed officer stood in front of the house. Cezar could not see him from his present location but he knew that he was there. The footpath he was on stretched diagonally across the field that bordered Peter’s back garden. He had stopped by the solitary oak tree and rolled a cigarette. He could see the white-suited figures in the back room. Another was upstairs and the lights in each room were on even though it was daylight. Other temporary, more powerful lights could be seen in the background. He inhaled deeply and smiled as he wondered just how long it would take them to find it. Moving away, he turned his collar up as he climbed the stile at the base of the slope before walking to the main road. Within minutes he was driving back to the farm for the last time.

  ***

  Owen inspected the cobbled and muddy farmyard before climbing out of the car. The pungency of the air had a density that disgusted him. He then glanced cautiously at his shoes; he suddenly realised it was not all mud that he was standing in. A dog barked, straining on the full extent of a short chain, its teeth showing in between the machine-gun bursts of barking. To his left a man appeared from a barn, his brown overalls tucked into muddy Wellington boots. He moved towards the dog taking hold of the collar and adjusted the flat tweed cap on his head. The barking ceased. Owen wondered if he were preparing to release the animal.

  “Can a help thi?”

  “Police, Mr Benson. I just need some information about the flat-bed you sold for scrap.”

  “Some folks ’av work to do.”

  “Tell me about it, sir. A few questions and I’m away. Suddenly I’ve developed an appetite, must be the aroma of the countryside.”