Unquiet Souls: a DI Gus McGuire case

by Mistry, Liz

  Sadia turned to do as he’d asked whilst Gus spoke to Hissing Sid.

  ‘See if you can get a DNA match on that quickly, will you?’

  Sid nodded and gestured to one of his team to bag the box up.

  Chapter 92

  Friday 7:40pm

  Sampson slammed his phone down, jumped up and punched the air. ‘Fucking ace!’

  Alice glanced up and smiled. ‘Good news, John?’

  ‘Hell yeah. Customs have only just gone and identified a lorry with the logo Cosy Night on the side. It’s been logged getting on a ferry bound for Hull from Rotterdam. It’s due to berth at 9pm. Bingo!’

  His flushed, excited expression was contagious, so Alice stood up and high-fived him. She knew that the incident with DCI Hussain had affected Sampson. He’d seemed down and a bit wary since then. Hopefully this would set him back on the right path. ‘Get on the phone to Gus. He’ll be chuffed to get some good news. Tell him I’ll organise a search warrant for the lorry and a police team from Hull to apprehend it and the driver, in liaison with the customs crew.’ She put her head to one side. ‘I’ll warn them to expect you to co-ordinate the operation and bring the driver back to Bradford. Take PC Singh with you.’

  Sampson paused as he lifted his phone to his ear, his jaw nearly hitting the floor. ‘Me?’

  Alice paused and then said, ‘You did good to get that alert up and running as quickly as you did. We could so easily have been too late. You deserve the chance to follow your lead through to the end. Gus is all about that, you know?’

  Sampson turned away to make his phone call to Gus revealing a tell-tale blush running up his neck and to his ears, which Alice found very endearing.

  Chapter 93

  Friday 7:50pm

  Gus left the forensic tent and immediately his eyes were drawn to the pale face at the window. Beth’s eyes pierced him, drawing him towards her despite his reluctance to pile yet more horror on her shoulders. How much more could she take? Her daughter had been abducted, her mother-in-law murdered and her second husband was under suspicion for possessing pornographic images of children. Now this.

  He and Sadia began to walk through the sleet to the kitchen door. He felt his phone vibrate. ‘Hope this is some good news,’ he said to Sadia and angled himself away from Beth, who continued to watch them from the window. ‘Sampson?’

  Hearing Sampson’s report lifted Gus’s spirits and he allowed himself a few seconds of elation before he updated Sadia. Then, he told her the bad news. ‘Looks like they’ve bailed Alex Graves, and he’s coming back here. Maybe it’s just as well Beth’s moving out. She won’t want to see him.’

  ‘Hell no,’ said Sadia her nose crinkled in disgust. ‘It’s not right is it? That bastards like that get to roam our streets.’

  Kicking the snow aimlessly, his shoulders hunched, Gus agreed with her. He hated it when the legal system let criminals loose. However, he’d enough time on the job to realise that it was pointless letting these things get in the way of an ongoing investigation. He shared these thoughts with Sadia and then bracing himself, he continued towards the back door and into the kitchen where Beth waited.

  Beth led them over to the table, carrying the baby who appeared blissfully unaware of the trauma surrounding him. She sat down and looked at Gus. The shadows under her eyes were even more pronounced and her frame looked fragile with her bulky cardigan dwarfing her. Her hands rested on the table clenching and unclenching, her knuckles protruding like blunt herbivorian teeth. Gus pulled out a chair and sat opposite her.

  ‘It isn’t good Beth, not good at all. He’s left another message and our techs have already watched the email video he sent. I don’t want you to watch it, ok?’ His blue eyes held her gaze steady and strong, but he knew already that she wouldn’t listen to him. Beth chewed on her lower lip, dislodging flakes of dry skin tinged with blood. Gus flinched as the sight evoked memories of what he’d seen in the box. She reached across the table for her laptop. ‘You can’t stop me from looking at it, can you?’

  Gus shook his head. ‘No, Beth, I can’t stop you. I can only advise. But,’ he flicked a glance at Sadia. ‘If you choose to watch this, we will do all we can to support you, ok?’

  She swallowed once and smiled thinly. When she spoke her voice was hoarse, ‘Thank you.’

  Gus nodded and moved round to stand behind her, as she accessed the recording.

  It opened with the camera operator panning round the warehouse room where Molly had been filmed before. Gus, eyes narrowed in concentration, saw the huge window with its puddle of ice scraped off. The camera zoomed onto the chair with little Molly sitting, legs tied to the chair legs and a rope round her middle. This time her hands were free. From nowhere, manic laughter erupted followed by the image of the man wearing the Scream mask bouncing into the frame. His voice was again distorted when he spoke.

  ‘Come on Molly, sweetheart. Tell mummy how much you miss her.’ He slid behind Molly and ran his fingers through her savaged hair, lips close to her ear as he spoke. Molly flinched, but kept looking at the camera. He prodded her and his voice rose an octave.

  ‘Come on tell her!’

  The muscles on Molly’s throat spasmed as she tried to swallow. Then, after another prod, she spoke. ‘Mummy, I’m sorry I ate the sausage roll. I’m still veggie. I love veggie food. I won’t eat any more meat.’

  Scream man slapped her across the face, making her head ricochet back. A drop of blood gathered at the corner of Molly’s mouth. He lurched back from her, threw back his head and guffawed. ‘Stupid bitch! She’s losing it. Fucking veggie indeed. You would make her a fucking veggie. Well, let me tell you, bitch, she’ll be eating meat before too long.’ He laughed again and looked towards the camera. ‘Get it? She’ll be eating meat before too long?’

  He turned back to Molly and said, ‘Tell her what I told you to say.’

  Molly, despite her tears, glared at him and lowered her head. ‘He says this is all your fault, mummy, and he’ll be coming for you soon. ‘Her voice cracked. ‘He says he’s killed Grandma Jessie. Has he mum? Has he?’

  Gus felt Beth tense and made to stop the recording.

  ‘Don’t!’ The word came out like a bullet and with a final glance at Beth, Gus allowed his hand to fall to his side as the recording continued.

  Scream man’s laugh drowned out Molly’s sobs. When he finally stopped laughing, he walked out of the frame, returning seconds later with his tool bag. He laid it on the mattress and unwrapped it. Slowly and deliberately he withdrew scalpels and knives and saws. One by one, he pressed each against Molly’s cheek just hard enough to leave an indent, before removing it and replacing it in the bag.

  Finally, he chose a tool and raised it to the camera.

  Recognising the clippers, Gus flinched.

  Scream man, head on one side, his voice echoing eerily said, ‘This one I think, don’t you?’

  A voice of assent drifted from behind the camera. Scream man, beckoned to the camera man to zoom right in on Molly’s crotch. A wet patch grew on her jeans and urine dripped to the floor. ‘Disgusting child. Just like her fucking mother. She’ll pay for pissing herself.’

  With no warning, he grabbed Molly’s right hand and strapped it to the chair arm, using a roll of duct tape he’d extracted from his pocket. She tried to jerk her arm away but he was too strong for her.

  Gus groaned and glanced at Beth. Her hands were clenched tightly together. He flicked a glance at Sadia, who stared back wide eyed. Inhaling deeply, Gus laid his hands on Beth’s shoulders and squeezed as if he could absorb her pain.

  On the screen, Scream man placed the clippers round Molly’s little finger. Molly looked straight at the camera. Tears coursed down her raw cheeks, her voice wobbled when she spoke. ‘We’re all square, mummy. Remember, we’re all square.’

  Then, he pressed the handles together.

  Molly’s scream reverberated round the kitchen and her small, delicate pinkie fell to the warehouse floor.

>   A whooshing sizzle coated the screen in darkness. The leaky tap’s rhythmic drip punctuated the air of desperation with inappropriate frivolity. Beth stared at the fizzing screen, hands twitching ineffectually in her lap. Wendy wept quietly beside her, tissue held tightly against her nose. Then, abruptly, Beth scraped her chair back and jumped to her feet. Her motions were erratic and uncoordinated. Quickly, she walked to the pram, checked the baby and then grabbing the handles, she swivelled the pram round and clumsily manoeuvred it towards the door. Wendy Horan jumped to her feet. ‘Beth what are you doing? Come and sit down?’

  Beth shook her head and shrugged the other woman’s arm off her shoulders. ‘Leave me alone. I need to get out of here. I’ll come to yours later, ok?’

  Gus stood slowly and walked over to Beth, who glared up at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears. ‘Beth, you can’t just go. We need you to help us. We need you to tell us what you can about the tape.’

  Beth took a step towards him, her eyes flashing. She prodded his shoulder. Gus bit back a grimace of pain as she spoke. ‘You need to catch those bastards. That’s what you need to do. What fucking good are you doing hanging around here? You need to get off your arses and find them. Before they hurt her any more.’ Then, she was crying. Great heaving sobs lifted her chest up and down.

  Gus put his arm round her shoulder and gently led her back to her chair, whilst Wendy repositioned the pram. He nodded to Sadia and mouthed the word ‘coffee’. Sadia immediately moved to the kettle and began filling it. Gus fleetingly remembered the last time they’d been in this kitchen and he’d made that same request. Sadia had been reluctant to comply then, but now she worked quietly without protest, her brow furrowed in a worried line. It was hard to believe only a few days had passed since then.

  He’d been reluctant for Beth to view the tape initially, however, in retrospect, he was glad she had. It had thrown up some things that needed clarifying and he was sure she could help.

  Sitting opposite her, Wendy Horan by her side, he said, ‘Beth, there were some things Molly said in the tape that we need you to consider. I’m going to ask you to watch it again and tell us if there’s anything, anything at all, that we can use to pinpoint where they’ve got Molly. Can you do that?’

  Beth wiped her sleeve over her eyes and swallowed. She turned to Wendy and mouthed ‘sorry’, before taking a deep breath and turning back to the screen. ‘Go on, play it again.’

  Gus pressed play and they watched the recording again, stopping just before the final scene.

  For a minute, Beth remained quiet, then. ‘We’re not vegetarian. Molly’s a chicken or beef burger girl. She loves her meat. Don’t know why she’d say those things about being veggie. It doesn’t make sense does it, Wendy?’

  Wendy shook her head. ‘No it doesn’t. Remember when we took her for lunch at that lovely little veggie café in Thornton. She kicked up such a fuss; we had to take her to McDonald’s on the way home.’

  Beth smiled. ‘Yeah. Such a little drama queen, isn’t she?’

  Wendy squeezed her arm. ‘Yes, a real live wire.’

  Beth lifted a shaking hand to her forehead and swept a tendril of hair back. ‘I’m tired, Wendy. Really tired. I don’t know how much more I can take.’

  Sadia placed steaming mugs on the table and sat down beside Gus. She looked at Beth and said, in a tone Gus had never heard from her before, ‘You need to rest Beth. You’re in shock and your body’s shutting down. The best thing you can do for Molly now is rest. Believe me, I know what shock can do to your body and mind.’ She smiled at the older woman. ‘Drink your coffee, I made decaff, and then let Wendy take you and Sam back to hers. Get some rest. When Molly comes home she’s going to need a strong mother there to look after her.’

  Beth studied Sadia’s face and whatever she saw there seemed to reassure her for she smiled weakly, lifted her drink to her lips and nodded. ‘Ok, DC Hussain, you win.’

  Gus looked at Sadia, wondering what Beth had seen in her to make her give in. As he watched her, Sadia flushed and looked away.

  Chapter 94

  Friday 9:30pm

  Sampson and PC Singh had broken all records to collect the necessary documents to hotfoot it up to Hull in time. Sleet and traffic build-up had made conditions hazardous. However, a bit of weather wasn’t going to stop them and PC Singh, flashing lights on and accelerator pedal pressed to the floor, got them to the docks in record time with only a few near misses to their names.

  Warrant in his pocket, a determined look on his face and purpose in his stride, Sampson marched across the Customs area at Hull docks, hand outstretched to greet Matthew Dubois, the customs official who had secured the driver of the Cosy Nights lorry. Before long, Dubois had guided them inside and updated them on the apprehension of Devlin O’Rourke.

  Sampson and Singh, steaming hot chocolates in their hands, were just beginning to thaw out as they observed him through the one-way mirror. Sampson, seeing O’Rourke sprawled nonchalantly in the plastic chair, felt a sudden surge of anger flooding his body. The memory of the children found in Sharon Asif’s attic merged with the image of little Molly Graves and the insouciant demeanour of the man in the room incensed him He turned to Dubois. ‘Does his passport seem legit?’

  Dubois nodded. ‘The local police are running it through HOLMES as we speak.’ Sampson took his phone from his pocket and texted the name with a request to cross-reference the name with Interpol, to Compo.

  ‘You seized the lorry?’

  Dubois hands were behind his back, and, as was the habit of many short men, he rocked on the balls of his feet in an attempt to expand his body space. He glanced sideways at Sampson, looking mildly pissed off. ‘Of course. Forensics are on their way; we know how to do these things in Hull.’ He jerked his thumb towards the window, ‘He’s not the first trafficker, excuse me, suspected trafficker, we’ve caught.’ He winked. ‘We know our job here, son.’

  Heat spread over Sampson’s cheeks. He quickly side-stepped the confrontation he felt was coming, by moving back from the window. ‘Shall we let him stew for a bit whilst we have a look at the lorry?’

  Dubois held his gaze for a second and then relented, ‘Come on then, this way. We’ve had the dogs out but they’re acting strangely. Asked the forensics to get a move on in case there’s someone inside the lorry. But we needed to wait for the warrant. Kids, is it?’

  Sampson nodded once and Dubois nodded back. ‘Thought so, the kids always have a bigger impact don’t they.’

  Sampson, Singh and Dubois walked along a chilly tunnel that acted as a funnel for the cool sea breeze. It led to a huge hangar, lit with strobes that flickered irritatingly and a combined smell of salt air and oil layered the atmosphere. It was empty, except for the lorry bearing the red Cosy Nights script, flashed on a yellow background on the side panel. It stood in the middle surrounded by various suited-up forensics folk, ready to open the back of the lorry.

  Sampson knew the sniffer dogs, in light of the previous detonation in Ilkley, had checked for explosives and found none. They were clear to go ahead now and open the lorry.

  Sampson handed the warrant to a detective sergeant from Hull who swiftly read it and then with a perfunctory nod, signalled for the forensic team to begin. Sampson and Singh suited up and waited by the plastic crime scene tape that marked the periphery, held up by a series of traffic cones.

  The team sprang into action with an energy that left Sampson breathless. Two suited figures converged on each side of the lorry. One jumped agilely into the cab, carrying a huge case of tools. Two technicians shimmied on their backs under the lorry, wearing goggles and head torches. Another two swabbed and photographed the external areas before raising the roll up door to the storage space at the back.

  Sampson, on tiptoes, strained to see inside, but even with the assistance of the extra strong lights that flooded the cavity, he could see only a pile of mattresses laid flat in the truck bed one on top of the other. Each was separated by two metal pr
ongs that created a bed frame for each mattress. Sampson’s heart slowed. He’d been half expecting to see a huddled group of malnourished traumatised children cowering in the corner, a stream of steaming excrement flowing down to the door as testament to their suffering. Now that he’d been denied the image he’d mentally prepared for, he felt a curious disappointment tinged with relief.

  A yell from the lorry’s bowels accompanied by frantic activity – smothered conversation and suddenly a masked earless bunny head was at the door, eyes flashing, hands frantically waving.

  ‘Ambulance, now!’

  And then a human bunny chain was sliding mattresses out of the lorry, placing them gently on the floor and the most surreal scene Sampson had ever witnessed unfolded before his eyes. Mattresses were unzipped and flipped open, revealing child-sized hollows within. Inside each was a sleeping child attached to a ventilation system that was in turn connected to an oxygen cylinder, nestling in a separate hollow next to the child’s ghostly frame.

  Sampson’s hands raked through his hair. Ten fucking mattresses, ten children. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Disregarding the preservation of evidence, the SOCOs scurried to care for the children while ambulances screeched to a halt at the entrance to the hanger. In stunned silence the SOCOs stepped back and were replaced by paramedics who ascertained that all ten children were still alive. A spontaneous cheer erupted as the last child, breathing independently although still unconscious, was transferred from his cushioned coffin to the ambulance.

  Chapter 95

  Friday 9:45pm

  ‘That bitch got the latest little offering then, did she?’ The Matchmaker laughed and rubbed his hands together. He and The Facilitator were back in the same hotel room as before. The Matchmaker had arrived first, making sure he wasn’t followed and as usual his hat and scarf made him virtually unidentifiable. Lucky really, as he was almost certain he’d seen a lackey of that prude DCI Hussain escorting a barely-legal hooker into one of the rooms further down the corridor. He imagined how Hussain would look if he told him that his favourite officer was knocking off prossies in his spare time. He smiled inwardly. Hussain would look down his patrician nose as if he’d just encountered a foul smell. If it wasn’t for the existence of the daughter, Sadia, The Matchmaker would doubt that Hussain had ever got down and dirty in the bedroom. Too bloody stuck-up to indulge in the baser activities of mere mortals.