by David Evans
36
Sammy was in the kitchen, hand washing a couple of tops when the knock came from the front door. Drying her hands, she made her way to answer it, knowing Alison was in the bath.
As she opened the door, it was pushed wide.
“Hello, Sammy,” the man said, taking a step into the room, hand on the door.
She tried to close it but he stepped forward and pushed Sammy back into the room.
“That’s no way to greet me. Especially when you’re in my debt.”
She regained her balance. “You need to get out.”
“I’ll go when I get what you owe me.”
“What the hell’s going on?” Alison appeared down the stairs, dressing gown around her and a towel on her head. “Who are you and what do you think you’re doing, barging your way into my house?”
The man looked shocked to see Alison. He obviously was expecting Sammy to be in on her own. “I’ve come for my money.”
“What money?”
“Perhaps your … friend here should tell you.”
Alison tensed. “No. You tell me.”
“She owes me rent. All £800 of it for her and her scabby mate.”
“Right. I don’t know who you are but you do not force your way into my house demanding money from anyone. You will leave now or I call the police. If you think anyone owes you money, there are proper means to go about it. And this isn’t one of them. Understand?”
The man smirked at Alison. “Got to give it to you,” he said, “you’ve got some spunk.” He walked back to the door, paused and looked at Sammy. “Now, I’ll be back tomorrow to collect. Like I say, £800.” Finally, he stepped out into the street and was gone.
Sammy dived for the door and slammed it shut.
Fifty minutes later, Alison let Souter in to the house, a stern look on her face. He’d made the dash down the M1 to Ossett from his Leeds office.
“What happened?” he asked once inside.
Sammy was sitting in an armchair, eyes red from crying. “I’m sorry,” she whimpered.
He stood, looking from Alison to Sammy and back again.
“We had a visitor,” Alison said, “and not a welcome one at that.” She sat down in the other chair while Souter sat on the sofa. She folded her arms. “Why don’t you tell him, Sammy?”
Sammy looked up briefly at him then down to her hands in her lap. “I thought I could handle it. I didn’t want you to be involved. You’ve done so much for me – had faith in me and I’ve let you down.”
“So,” Souter said, “from the beginning.”
Sammy wiped her face then took a deep breath. “Me and Maria, we’ve been renting our room from a scumbag by the name of Jed Robinson. He knows what we had to do to earn the money. That’s why the rent was so high.”
“How much?”
“£200 each a week.”
“Each!” Alison exclaimed. “Bloody Hell.”
“Pimping by any other word,” Souter added. “Go on.”
“When you saw me outside A & E, he hadn’t thrown me out. We’d rowed.”
“He hit you?”
Sammy hesitated. “Yes. He wanted two weeks money. With Maria missing, I’d got no chance. He said it was a warning. Something to help me focus and he’d be back.” She sniffed and rubbed her nose with the back of her hand. “When you took me in, he thought I’d run off. I went back next day when I knew no-one would be about and grabbed the rest of our things.” She looked up again. “But that little shit in the room upstairs must have seen me. He also saw me with you that day we looked for Tracey.”
“And this mystery car last night?”
“His brother, Phil. They’re partners, renting properties.”
“And you recognised him, didn’t you?”
Sammy nodded. “I did try to avoid being followed and I honestly thought I’d done enough.”
“But?”
Alison unfolded her arms and took up the story. “I was upstairs. My day off this week and I don’t think he was expecting anyone else to be in, was he, Sammy?”
She shook her head. “It was Jed. He pushed me back inside.”
“That’s when I heard the commotion and came rushing down the stairs.” Alison then related the rest of the events.
“So how much was he after?” Souter asked.
“£800,” Sammy said in a quiet voice.
“Eight hundred,” he exploded. “How the … No I’m not having that. I’ve been there. It’s a shitty little room in a scruffy rundown house. I wouldn’t pay twenty quid a week all in.” He took his mobile out and began scrolling down his contact list.
“What are you doing?” Alison asked.
“I’m going to sort it.” He put his mobile to his ear for a few seconds then cancelled the call. “Shit, it’s switched off. I forgot he’s probably still down in Suffolk.”
“Who?”
“Not to worry,” he said, “there’s always plan B. So, how’s it been left?”
“He said he’d come back tomorrow, and he’s expecting his money,” Sammy trembled.
“Oh no he’s not,” Souter said. “I’m not having him here again.”
“And neither am I,” Alison joined in, “I’ll get my brother Mark and his rugby club mates down here.”
“No. I’ll sort this once and for all. Have you got some way of contacting this Jed?”
“I’ve got a mobile number,” Sammy responded.
“And have you still got a key to get in?”
She nodded.
“Good. Leave it with me for now.” Souter rose to leave. “And try not to worry. I’ll give you a call later when I’ve got the details worked out.”
37
Strong paused in the car outside the neat semi-detached house in the quiet street in Outwood.
“How does a bloke like Chris Baker get himself into a situation like this? On the face of it, a decent man, good job, wife, house, albeit with a mortgage …” He wasn’t looking at his colleague sitting beside him, he was staring at the house.
“God knows how he got sucked in, guv,” Stainmore responded, “But it’ll be down to money and sex.”
Strong turned to her. “I think you’re right, Kelly. But she must have known something was wrong, wouldn’t you say? I mean, you’re a woman.”
“Glad you noticed.”
“You know what I mean. If your bloke was visiting massage parlours, having it elsewhere, you’d pick up on that, wouldn’t you?”
Stainmore puffed out her cheeks and exhaled. “Difficult one, guv. Can’t say I’ve ever been in that position. But … depends how long they’ve been together. Things could have gotten stale over the years. Slowly, things change.”
“Do we know how long they’ve been married?”
“Not sure. He was thirty-one, but no kids.”
Strong was silent for a few seconds before taking the keys from the ignition. “Alright, Kelly, let’s see if we can fill in some gaps.”
Their knock on the door was answered by the female FLO Halliday had stationed in the house. She introduced herself as DC Rebecca Walters in response to Strong and Stainmore displaying their warrant cards.
“We’d like to have a little chat with Mrs Baker, if that’s okay,” Strong said.
“Janice is still upset about what’s happened to her husband and DCI Halliday has told me …”
“Don’t worry about DCI Halliday,” he interrupted, “this is in connection with another enquiry.”
DC Walters looked put out but, faced with a DCI and a DS, she stood aside.
Janice Baker was in the lounge, in one of two easy chairs, part of a three-piece leather suite. An unlit gas fire stood in a stone surround where sympathy cards festooned the mantelpiece. The room was warm but Janice was wearing a thick cardigan and trousers, legs tucked underneath she appeared to be hugging herself. Scents from three separate floral arrangements placed around the room were almost overpowering. The large screen television in one corner was switched off.
/> As Strong and Stainmore entered the room, a grey-haired man arrived behind them carrying a mug of tea.
“Not more questions,” he said, as he gave the mug to Janice. “She’s answered all she can.”
Strong introduced himself and Stainmore once more. “And you are?”
“Robert Baker. I’m Chris and Gary’s dad.”
“Well, Mr Baker, as I’m sure you’ll understand, we need to find whoever was responsible for what happened to Chris and to do that, we need to have as much information as we can.”
Baker nodded. “Of course. But Janice has told all she knows to the other officers already.” He looked down at his daughter-in-law and squeezed her shoulder. Janice looked up briefly through swollen eyes then back to the mug of tea she was cradling.
“If we could just go over a few things …”
“It’s alright, Robert,” Janice said, then turning to the detectives, “You can sit down, you know.”
Strong and Stainmore sat on the settee, Robert on the arm of Janice’s chair and the FLO took the other seat.
“We’re extremely sorry for what happened to Chris,” Strong began. “Can you tell us what happened the night he went out?”
“Look, we’ve been over this several times,” Baker responded.
“I’d just like to hear it again. From Mrs Baker, if you don’t mind. There may be a small detail she’s remembered since. I take it you weren’t here that evening, Mr Baker?”
“No. I live in Ripon. I’m here to support Janice. I need to do something useful. I’ve lost a son too.”
“Of course. In fact, could I have a word with you separately?”
Baker looked surprised initially. “Well…alright, if it’ll help. We can talk in the kitchen.”
“Thanks, Mr Baker, my colleague can chat to Janice in the meantime.” Strong looked at Stainmore as she produced a notebook from her handbag.
“We just need a little more background, Janice,” she said.
Strong followed Baker into the kitchen and closed the door behind them.
“Is there no Mrs Baker?” he asked.
“My wife died three years ago.”
Baker took a seat on one of the bar stools at the island unit. Strong sat at another opposite. “I’m sorry,” he said.
“Probably just as well. This would have broken her heart.” He made to stand. “Where are my manners? Would you and your colleague like a tea or a coffee? The kettle’s just boiled.”
Strong held up both hands. “No thank you, Mr Baker, we’re fine. Please, sit down.”
Baker slowly resumed his seat.
“There are a few questions I’d like to ask you, and there’s no easy way of putting things.”
Baker looked puzzled.
Strong drew a breath. “How well did you know your son?”
“What are you getting at Inspector? We all know what’s happened with Gary in the past. He got in with some unfortunate company when he was younger, but Chris was trying to help him.”
“Do you think there might be a connection with Gary and what he was involved with?”
Baker took a deep breath before answering. “I don’t know. I just don’t know.”
“Have you any idea where Gary might be?”
“I can only think he’s gone off somewhere with a mate. You know they were trying to make a go of a little business, him and that guy Chapman he spent time with inside. And you know Chris was trying to help them?”
Strong nodded. “We also think Gary was with Chris the night he was shot. Now, personally, I don’t think Gary had anything to do with it. Whatever happened that night, we’ll only find out when we can talk to him.”
Baker slumped forward, put his head in his hands and rubbed his face. “It’s bad enough having lost a son. I don’t think I could cope if anything happened to Gary too. I only think I’m staying strong for Janice.” He looked up at Strong. “You know she has no living relatives?”
“I didn’t.”
Baker seemed to recover. “But why are you here Inspector? What else has happened? I heard you at the door with Becky, Rebecca.”
“That’s why I asked you how well you knew your son.” Strong paused. “Are you aware of any problems he might have been having?”
Baker looked indignant. “What sort of problems?”
“Money for one.”
“No more than any married couple their age with bills to pay and a mortgage. Anyway, he knew he could always come to me. I’d have helped him.”
“How would you describe the state of Chris and Janice’s marriage?”
“What do you mean ‘state’? I don’t think I like the way this is going.”
“I’m sorry, Mr Baker, it’s just that some other developments have occurred which mean I have to look into all aspects here. That’s why I asked to speak to you away from Janice.”
Baker frowned.
“I have evidence that Chris was in the habit of visiting a massage parlour.”
Baker looked angry. “You what? Evidence? What evidence?” He stood up and turned to look out of the kitchen window.
“This would be a surprise to you would it?”
When Baker turned back to face Strong, he seemed to have regained control of himself. “Well, yes. I don’t know anything about that. It’s hardly the sort of thing he might tell me.” He looked incredulous now. “No. No, I can’t believe that.”
Despite the protestations, for Strong, there was something about the reaction he got from the man that didn’t ring true. “So you would be surprised to hear that he has been identified as a regular customer of such an establishment?
“Which ‘establishment’?
“We understand he visited Sweet Sensations in Chapeltown on a number of occasions.”
“In Leeds? That’s a bit of a rough area. I wouldn’t have thought …” Baker trailed off.
Strong produced some photographs from his inside pocket. “Have you ever seen either of these two men before?” He passed across pictures of Szymanski and Mirczack.
Baker took them and studied both before slowly shaking his head. “No. Never seen them before. Don’t know if I’d want to, especially this one.” He pointed to Mirczack.
“Do the names Szymanski and Mirczack mean anything to you?” Just a slight reaction in the eyes but, again, a shake of the head from Baker. “And you’ve never heard either of your sons mention them?”
“That’s who these two are then?”
Strong ignored the question and showed one more photograph to Baker, that of Helena Cryanovic. “Have you ever seen this girl?”
“She’s pretty. Is she the one who’s saying Chris visited this place?”
“She’s not actually saying anything, Mr Baker. Not any more.”
Back in the car on the return journey to Wood Street, Strong asked Stainmore how the conversation with Janice had progressed.
“Still deeply shocked, Guv,” she replied. “He’d gone out a few times before at night. He never said exactly where. She assumed, or he led her to believe, he was having a pint with a work colleague, or his brother, Gary. Then, on that last night, she upset herself remembering the last words she ever said to him, ‘If you’re going to see another woman, I’ll kill you.’”
“Hmm. That might have been prophetic, Kelly.”
“Well that gave me the opportunity to ask how their marriage was.”
“And?”
“She said they’d been married for over ten years. The ‘no kids’ thing was down to her. Apparently she can’t have any. And for the past three years or so, they’ve just been going through the motions.”
“So to speak,” Strong added, drawing the car to a halt at red lights. “Does she think he’s been having an affair?”
“I didn’t ask directly but she said she wouldn’t have been surprised if he was, hence the last comment to him. Now, of course, she’s not so sure.”
“But we suspect differently, albeit of a professional nature. What does she do, by the
way?” he asked as the lights changed to green and he set off again.
“Works in a store in Leeds.”
“Did she say if they had money worries?”
“Chris looked after that. He hadn’t mentioned anything to her about being short or cutting back or anything. In fact, he’d talked about a late holiday.”
“So if anything, he had a bit spare? Anything strike you as odd in there, Kelly?”
“How do you mean, guv?”
“Well, the father-in-law. He tells me he’s a widower and Janice has no living relatives.”
“You don’t think old man Baker’s sniffing around his daughter-in-law, surely?”
“No.” Strong hesitated, “No, forget that. I suppose if he’s on his own and she has nobody, it’s natural for him to be sharing the grief with her. Do we know what he does?”
“From what Janice said, I think he’s retired. But what he did for a living, I don’t know. I can find out.”
38
Billy Wilkinson was a photographer with The Post. Souter had worked with him many times. Passionate about his job, it also seemed to be his hobby and he was up to speed with all the latest technology. This was now the twenty-first century and, even in the past few years, amazing advances had been made. Wilkinson had set him up in the past with recording devices for sensitive interviews. But, more importantly for Souter, he was built like a brick shithouse.
And so it was that the pair of them were now sitting in Wilkinson’s battered old Toyota across the road from the house where Sammy rented her room. Having been spotted previously, Souter thought it best not to turn up again in his Escort.
“You absolutely sure this’ll work, Billy?” Souter asked once more.
“Relax, man. Have I ever let you down? Listen.” Wilkinson twiddled a knob on the small receiver he was holding and muffled breathing sounds could be heard. “This is good for a hundred metres. If I turn it up any more you could hear her stomach rumbling.”
Sammy was wired up and Wilkinson had connected it to a small transmitter. The sounds from inside the room were being picked up by the recorder they held in the car. Sammy had checked earlier that the tosser in the room upstairs who’d reported back to the Robinson brothers was out before letting them inside. Wilkinson had taken photographs of the state of the hallway and the room. Backup Souter had called it. Hopefully, they wouldn’t have to use it.
