Unquiet Souls: a DI Gus McGuire case

by Mistry, Liz

  The Facilitator looked tense. As well as his crumpled clothes and obvious fatigue, The Matchmaker thought he carried a defeated air. He wondered if the last few stressful days, although integral to their plan, had knocked The Facilitator off kilter. They’d discussed it all thoroughly and The Facilitator had agreed that a smokescreen was their best protection. So, that’s what they’d implemented. Soon the ‘truth’ would be revealed. The Facilitator could breathe easy then.

  As the other man paced the room, The Matchmaker’s eyes narrowed. He had to stop him from flaking out. Keep him on board. God, why couldn’t the idiot just grow some balls. Did he always have to be the one carrying everything?

  The Facilitator stopped pacing, and avoiding The Matchmaker’s gaze, he replied abruptly, ‘Yes, she got it. But you need to start playing this safely. You’re getting too hell-bent on revenge. We’ve got business commitments to meet and that’s got to be our priority. The Provider is off the radar, so we don’t know where our next shipment is and we’ve got orders to fulfil.’

  The Matchmaker’s fists clenched. He stepped closer. ‘Watch your tone! I’ve worked on this business for two decades. It was my brainchild and I don’t need reminding about my obligations to our clients. You, on the other hand, seem to need reminding about who salvaged the debacle when James Clegg got caught. I’ll get my revenge on that bitch because she needs to pay.’ He grinned and backed off slightly. ‘Don’t forget, I’ve got my finger on the pulse. I know that the police are dithering with that damaged DI McGuire floundering around. Humph, it’s laughable, really.’

  The Facilitator flinched. ‘He doesn’t seem as out of the game as you think. He seems on the ball, organised, efficient. Don’t underestimate him. That could be our undoing.’

  The Matchmaker grabbed The Facilitator’s shoulder and squeezed lightly. ‘Don’t be such a wimp. We’re into the endgame now. When I’ve got my last revenge we’ll relocate and continue as before. We’ll be in the clear.’

  The Facilitator jumped to his feet, rubbing his hand over his short hair. ‘For God’s sake, can you hear yourself? We’ve left a whole load of soiled goods in an attic for the police to find. We’ve attempted to kill Jamal Asif, abducted Molly Graves and proceeded to amputate parts of her body. Oh and did I mention we killed the kid’s granny too. Do you really think Gus McGuire, will let all that slide? Because I don’t. He seems far too efficient and driven for that.’

  The Matchmaker sat down on the uncomfortable desk chair and crossed his legs. With one hand slung behind him resting on the tabletop, his tapping fingers were the only indication of his anger. He waited till The Facilitator looked away before speaking in a controlled tone. ‘Don’t ever question my actions. Things are under control and I’m nearly done. Two more days and operation ‘Annihilate Beth Graves’ will be over. They can’t link any of us to those brats and our client’s confidentiality is intact. We’re fine, ok?’

  The Facilitator, head down, said nothing. Then the Matchmaker’s phone rang. Eyes resting on The Facilitator’s bowed head, he answered. As he listened, his fingers tightened on the phone. Abruptly, without speaking, he hung up. The Facilitator met his gaze as the Matchmaker said, ‘Our eyes on the ground say The Provider’s truck has been stopped in Hull. He’s been arrested and is en route to Bradford.’

  The Facilitator visibly paled. ‘And I suppose you can sort that one out too?’

  The Matchmaker cursed and began to pace in the confined space. Finally, he spun round on his heel. ‘We’ll cut him free. We’ll begin to relocate tomorrow, ok?’

  Chapter 96

  Saturday 9am

  Gus walked into the interview room with Alice. Jamal, his lawyer, Amy Winters and Naila Siddique, his social worker, were already sitting at the table. Jamal was slumped in the chair, his head bowed. His shoulders were tense and his fists were clenched by his sides

  Gus pulled out his chair, turned it round and straddled it, leaning his arms across the back rest. ‘You ok, Jamal?’

  Jamal’s head jerked up and his eyes flashed venom at Gus before he resumed his previous position. Gus blinked. Wow! What the hell had caused this sudden animosity? He flicked a glance at Naila who shook her head, clearly as puzzled as Gus by the boy’s reaction.

  ‘Did the doctor check you out, Jamal?’

  Jamal shrugged. Naila nudged him gently with her elbow. ‘Come on, Jamal. Tell DI McGuire how you are.’

  Jamal’s gaze remained on the floor. ‘You tell him, if you’re so keen.’

  Amy Winters butted in. ‘The doctors have catalogued Jamal’s injuries and have accessed his medical records and have found evidence of significant injuries that may indicate long-term abuse. There are no immediate concerns over any of his injuries and he’s fit to interview.’

  Gus smiled at her and then turned back to Jamal. ‘What’s up, son? Are you frightened?’

  Jamal snorted and pushed himself upright, his eyes sparking. ‘I’m not your fucking son, ok? And yeah, I am fucking frightened. You lot are all bloody bastards. I don’t fucking trust any of you.’ He jumped to his feet and towered over the table, glowering at Gus.

  Naila stood up quickly and grabbed his arm. ‘Come on Jamal, what’s got into you? This isn’t like you. Inspector McGuire wants to help you.’

  Gus held Jamal’s gaze and waved a hand at Naila telling her to stand down. What the hell had happened to this kid between yesterday and this morning? Was it that they’d discovered the extent of his injuries? Gus didn’t think it was that and he really wanted to find out what was causing the boy to act so aggressively.

  Naila plonked herself on the edge of her chair. Amy leaned forward and spoke sharply. ‘Sit down, Jamal. This isn’t helping you.’ Jamal glared at her, his chin thrust forward, then he slumped back into his chair still glaring at Gus.

  Gus pressed his lips together wondering how to proceed. Eventually, his voice calm and low he said, ‘What’s up, Jamal? Yesterday you left here happy to work with us, knowing we were going to do our best for you and now,’ he splayed his arms, palm up before him, ‘you’re acting like we’re the enemy. That tells me something’s happened to upset you. What the hell is it?’

  Jamal chewed on his lip and sniffed. His leg juddered up and down, his knee banging periodically on the table.

  ‘He’s one of you lot. The fucking bastard who brought those kids to our house is a fucking stinkin’ pig.’ Without warning, Jamal jumped to his feet and before any of them could stop him, he punched the wall.

  Gus, open mouthed, swung his gaze to Alice who looked as stunned as he felt. Naila, after a single shocked glance at Gus, approached Jamal and put her arm round his heaving shoulders. She guided him back to his chair. Gus nodded to the constable by the door ‘Get an ice pack and call the duty doctor please.’

  Jamal lowered his head onto his arms on the table. His injured hand was grazed and beginning to swell. She pushed a tissue through the gap between his head and his arms. Jamal snatched the tissue and with his forehead balanced on the edge of the table blew his nose and used the tissue to wipe his eyes before thrusting the sodden rag on the table.

  Gus waited till he’d quietened down and had an ice pack on his hand. ‘Jamal, did you see the man who brought the kids to your house? The one in the photograph at the police station?’

  Head still on the table, Jamal spoke in a mumble. ‘Not the one in the photo. The other one. The scary one who came that first time.’

  ‘Jamal, where did you see this man?’

  Jamal jerked his head toward the door and said grudgingly. ‘Just out there in the corridor.’

  Gus raised his eyebrows and looked at Amy and Naila, who both looked shocked. What the fuck was going on? Gus felt like his head was about to explode. He mentally counted to ten and then said calmly, ‘Jamal, you told us previously that you could hardly see the other man. That you couldn’t describe him to us.’

  Jamal slammed his uninjured hand on the table. ‘Fucking knew it. Knew you lot wouldn’t believ
e me. You always just want to protect each other.’

  Gus reigned in his emotions, said, ‘Look, Jamal, it’s not that we don’t believe you. It’s that we need to be clear about this for the tape. What you’ve just told us is really serious and we need to get it right, ok?’

  Jamal nodded and scrubbed his sleeve across his face. Naila handed him another tissue.

  ‘Right,’ said Gus. ‘Tell me how you know the man in the corridor was the same one you saw in number 9 Inkerman Street.’

  Jamal glanced at the interview room door as if scared the man would walk through.

  Gus said, ‘This is in confidence, Jamal. Until we’ve investigated this, we’ll keep this between us. You’re perfectly safe.’

  Jamal glanced at Naila who gave him a reassuring smile. He began to speak, hesitatingly. ‘I didn’t see him clearly that time, you know. But there was just something about him. The way he held his head and that.’ He scrunched his fingers together and rested them on the table. His eyes flicked between Amy and Gus. ‘It were him, you know. I’m certain. It were his voice too. I know it were him. It were his voice. Posh an’ all… and his watch. Only a posh fucker or James Bond would have a watch like that.’

  Exhaling heavily, Gus looked at Amy and Naila. He jerked his head to the door and then turned to Jamal. ‘DC Cooper will stay with you for a minute, Jamal. I just want to have a quiet word with Naila and Ms Winters.’

  Jamal snorted. ‘Cooking the fucking books, covering your arses.’

  Gus could detect anxiety in Jamal’s eyes. He smiled slightly at the boy’s bravado and pushed himself off the chair and walked to the door. ‘I won’t let you down, Jamal. If a police officer is involved in this, then I’ll find him. You have my word on that.’

  Once in the corridor, Gus raked his fingers through his hair and looked from Naila to Amy. Both women looked shocked. Gus gestured down the corridor and led them into an empty interview room. Again, his fingers raked through his hair. ‘This is a fucking mess, isn’t it?’

  Amy pulled out a chair and sat down. ‘Well, seems to me that if my client is right and he can identify a police officer as the man behind this child trafficking, then he needs to be in protective custody. Away from Bradford.’

  Gus sat down opposite her and clasped his hands on the table. ‘Look, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Jamal’s description is sketchy to say the least. Let’s try to identify the person in question as quietly as we can before going official. Jamal’s fine at the moment with Alice.’

  Amy frowned. ‘Yes, but if the man he saw also saw him, he could be at risk.’

  Gus nodded. ‘I agree and that’s why we need to narrow this down as quickly as possible. You two walked with Jamal through the station. Let’s see if you can come up with a list of officers you saw on the way back to the interview room. Then, I can get their photos for Jamal to identify.’

  Amy’s eyes narrowed. ‘You think he’s lying, don’t you?’

  Gus looked straight into her eyes and shook his head. ‘No. No, I don’t get the sense that Jamal’s lying. I get the sense that he’s petrified because he thinks he saw that bloke.’ He paused, ‘I only hope to God he’s mistaken. However, I don’t think he’s lying. Now let’s sit down and get this sorted.’

  He pulled out a chair, sat down and took out his notebook. ‘Right, think back to who you saw on your way back to the interview room. Remember, it may have been admin staff or other lawyers or anybody. Jamal wouldn’t necessarily know which were police officers and which weren’t.’

  Amy snorted. ‘Clutching at straws, Gus clutching at straws.’

  ‘Damn right I am,’ said Gus. ‘But not for the reasons you think. I hope Jamal’s right so we can nail this bloke. However, I would prefer it not to be a serving police officer, for obvious reasons.’ He crossed his legs and rolled his aching shoulder. ‘However, police officer or not. I will do my damnedest to send the guilty person down for as long as I can.’

  Naila pulled a pad out of her handbag and said, ‘Right, let’s get started.’

  Fifteen minutes later, Gus studied the list of names that Naila and Amy had produced.

  ‘Any you think capable of this, Gus?’ asked Naila.

  Gus shook his head. ‘God, Naila. There’re some arses on this list, Knowles for one, but none I believe could do this. However, you know as well as I do that sometimes the most successful criminals are those we’d least suspect.’

  Amy stood up. ‘I want to get back to my client; can you expedite your investigation into this so we can get him out of here as quickly as possible?’

  Gus nodded. ‘I’ll get Compo on the case. We still need to finish the interview regarding his mum. I think we should get it over with and sent to the CPS. I’ll get Alice to finish up interviewing him with DC Hussain. After that get Jamal out of here for some lunch. Be back by 1pm. By then, hopefully, I’ll have some photos to show him. Sadia can take you down the back way, so you’ll avoid seeing anyone.’

  Chapter 97

  Saturday 10am

  Gus felt his heartbeat speed up. He knew they were close. Things were coming together beautifully now. First Sampson locating the truck in Hull and then Jamal recognising one of the men in the station. Ok, not so good news that one of the key players could be a police officer, but it didn’t matter to Gus. No matter who the bastard was, Gus would see he went down for a long time for this.

  As Gus paced the interview room, Compo cross-referenced the enhanced images they’d obtained from the recordings. He’d also printed photos of all the officers on the list Naila and Amy Winters had given, ready to show Jamal later.

  When Sampson burst into the room to say he’d deposited Devlin O’Rourke the truck driver in Interview Room 2, everyone crowded round him. Gus slapped him on the back. ‘Well done, Sampson. You did good. What’s the update on the kids?’

  ‘They’re all fine. Traumatised, of course, but physically they’re ok. We got them in time and Detective Jankowski is working with missing persons in Poland to try to repatriate them.’

  ‘Right,’ said Gus. ‘Grab a drink. We’ll let O’Rourke sweat for a bit, then I want Alice and Sadia to observe whilst you and I interview the bastard, ok?’

  Alice raised her eyebrow. Then with an apologetic glance in Sampson’s direction said to Gus, ‘Sampson?’

  Gus grinned at her. ‘Yeah, Sampson. Jealous, Al?’

  She laughed at his teasing tone and shook her head. ‘No offence Sampson, but he’s a bit green for such a key interview, don’t you think?’

  Gus frowned at her. ‘God, Al. You get promoted for five minutes and you think you know better than me?’

  ‘No, it’s not that.’

  Gus cut her dead with a dismissive wave of the hand. ‘Sampson did the bust. He deserves to be there and he’ll learn from this. I’ll lead. Now head up and make sure everything’s in order. I want this to run as smoothly as a stripper on a pole.’

  Gus could tell Sampson was a bit nervous about doing the interview, but the lad deserved it. He’d hotfooted up the motorway in crap weather, had witnessed first-hand what O’Rourke had done to those poor kids and was still standing. Gus had to admit that the boy did look a bit frazzled and the bags under his eyes told Gus that Sampson had probably not slept well the previous night. Still he was here, stoically waiting for Gus as he limped along the corridor. When he drew level with Sampson, Gus smiled. ‘You ready?’

  Sampson shrugged, ‘As I’ll ever be, I suppose.’

  Gus smiled, remembering how nervous he’d been at his first big interview – A woman who’d killed her husband by slicing his throat because he said her new dress made her look fat. ‘You’ll be right, let me take the lead.’

  Together they walked through the door. Gus thrust it open so hard it bounced off the wall a few times before Sampson gently clicked it shut. A uniformed officer stood against the wall unsmiling and still and the duty solicitor, a man named Cadbury, sat beside O’Rourke. Gus noticed that Cadbury had angled his chair sl
ightly away from his client. Gus thought Devlin O’Rourke looked too big for the chair he was sitting in. He hoped he felt as uncomfortable as he looked. O’Rourke’s hands, cuffed in front of him, rested on the table. His face remained impassive as Gus scrutinised him. A few days’ stubble covered his lower face and his heavy brows made his eyes look hooded.

  Gus strode round to the other side of the table and made an exaggerated show of sniffing the air. ‘Fuck’s sake, it stinks in here. When’s the last time you had a bath?’ he rested his fists on the table and leaned over O’Rourke, ‘or is that just the stench of fear?’

  Sampson followed Gus round the table, pulled out a chair and sat. Slowly scraping out his own chair, Gus kept his eyes on the prisoner. O’Rourke’s expression slipped into a sneer but he didn’t reply to Gus’s taunt. Holding Gus’s gaze, O’Rourke leaned back, legs spread widely revealing a bulging crotch covered in tight jeans. He allowed his cuffed hands to slip loosely between his legs.

  Gus sat down and when Sampson had set up the recorder, he introduced the people present and re-read the prisoner his rights before beginning. ‘You’re well and truly fucked now, aren’t you? Found in possession of a truck load of sedated kids hooked up to oxygen and hidden in cut out mattresses. What’s the betting the DNA found on those kids in the attic will be a match to yours? Yep, you’re fucked.’ Gus grinned at O’Rourke. ‘Care to tell me how those children got in your lorry?’

  O’Rourke tensed one arm so the muscles rippled up his arm, giving the impression that his snake tattoo was alive and ready to pounce on Gus. He smirked. ‘No comment!’