Desolate Sands Crime Book 5 (Detective Alec Ramsay Crime Mystery Suspense Series)

by Conrad Jones

  “You make it sound like a solid business venture.”

  “I’m sitting on a goldmine,” she laughed. “I call it my moneymaker. If I didn’t have a habit, I would be minted!”

  “Drugs, eh. They have a lot to answer for. It’s a slippery slope for the girls and a dangerous one.”

  “It is. I complained about his percentage and he knocked my front teeth out and raped me for my cheek.” Janice put her thumb and forefinger into her mouth and pulled out a brace with three teeth fixed to it. She smiled a gummy smile and cocked her head sideways. “I never went back, but I couldn’t work for three weeks either. I was broke. It took me months to get straight. Since then, I take my chances outside. Cold and wet beats black and blue.”

  “What was his name?” Stirling could feel his blood boiling.

  “Gary Collins,” she said. “Are you going to beat him up for me?”

  “No,” he stuttered embarrassed. He felt his face flushing red with anger. “I’ll keep my eye out for him, that’s all.”

  “My hero.”

  “I’m not trying to be a hero,” he shrugged. “Why didn’t you report him for the rape?”

  “Are you kidding me?” she asked with her mouth wide open.

  “No!”

  “I’m a hooker with a crack addiction.”

  “It’s still rape.”

  “It wasn’t always rape.” She shook her head slowly as if she couldn’t believe how naive he was. “Do I have to spell it out? I didn’t always make enough money from the punters. I’m not proud of it but that’s just the way it was. What do you think a jury would make of that?”

  “I see your point.”

  “Do you?”

  “Yes. He’s scum.” He couldn’t meet her eyes with his. “I’m just saying blokes like him need taking off the streets. If I come across him, I’ll make sure that he is.”

  “Fingers crossed that you do, Sergeant,” she said smiling. She held up both hands, her fingers crossed. He noticed that she was shaking. She noticed that he had noticed and her smile disappeared. “I need to go. I’m beginning to feel that hunger. You know what I mean, or do I have to spell that out too?” Stirling nodded silently and slotted the photographs into his file. Their eyes locked for a second.

  “I’ll get someone to show you out,” he said quietly. “Thanks for your help.” He nodded and walked to the door. Opening it he paused to speak but then thought better of it. She needed to score. Delaying her would only cause her pain.

  Chapter 29

  Alec pulled his BMW onto the kerb, wheels half on and half off. Annie ended a phone call in the passenger seat and they sat in silence and looked at the terraced house that Tibbs had given as his mother’s address. It was a two up, two down on the outskirts of the city. A single stone step before the front door was worn in the middle and painted white. Decorative net curtains hung in the windows, yellowed with age. The sash windows hadn’t been painted for ten summers at least.

  “I thought that he couldn’t have any contact with his family because he’s in the protection program?” Alec ducked his head to look at the upper windows. He was hoping that a full background check had been run this time around. There could be no more mistakes made with Richard Tibbs.

  “After his crash episode, Stirling ran the address before he let him leave the station, Guv,” Annie allayed his doubts. “Once bitten, twice shy. The house was registered to Mrs Dunn. She died three years ago and the house is technically still in probate because they can’t trace her son, Captain Nigel Dunn. He must have a key and keeps it as a hideaway.”

  “And we know that he’s in?”

  “Yes, Guv,” Annie said. “He came home an hour ago and hasn’t left since. Shall I give the order?”

  “Yes.” Alec nodded and sat back in his seat. “Tell them to put the fear of God into him. Arrest him for breach of bail conditions.”

  “All units, green light, go, go, go!” Annie felt good sending in the armed forced entry unit. Tibbs would crap in his pants which would be a good thing; a small but tantalisingly delicious taste of revenge for taking the piss out of her. He had played her a merry tune and she had danced to it and made herself look incompetent to her seniors. That wouldn’t happen again. She smiled inside as a heavy battering ram shattered the front door. The armed officers slipped inside one by one, their shouts audible even inside the car. Thirty seconds dragged by.

  “We’ve got Tibbs, Guv,” the comms unit crackled. “All clear.”

  “Let’s go and speak to our number one suspect, Detective.” Alec said as he opened the door. They climbed out and walked across the street. Two armed officers took up position on either side of the door. Annie noted three sets of curtains twitching, neighbours desperate for the latest gossip. She stepped into the house and it reminded her of her grandma’s home. It had that old person smell. Mothballs mixed with damp and potpourri. The flavours of sterilized milk and strawberry jam on toast drifted back to her; her granddad’s teeth floating in a glass of cloudy liquid on the windowsill in the bathroom. They were pleasant memories but unwelcome too. Remembering her past was often triggered by odours. Smells reminded her of the past far more than sights or sounds. A hideously patterned Wilton covered the hallway and the staircase directly in front of them. The walls were papered with a similarly hideous wood chip. A young schoolboy stared at them from the wall; a tear ran down his cheek. His tragic image was on the walls of a million people of that generation. Annie reckoned that most of them would be buried in landfill by now and the one on the wall could be the only one left.

  “Where is he?” Annie asked. She mentally studied the interior of the house.

  “In the kitchen,” the entry team leader answered. “He’s not alone either,” he added with a grin as he walked to the front door. “Caught with his pants down, Guv!”

  Annie held her breath as she walked past a living room and a lounge. They would be searched later. For now she wanted to speak to Tibbs. At the end of the hallway, strips of multi-coloured plastic acted as a door to the kitchen. Annie knew that they were originally designed as a fly-screen but had become an epitome of household fashion. She poked her head through the gaudy plastic strips and stepped into the kitchen. More memories flooded back. A blackened kettle sat on an electric ring, its whistle still shiny and a bone china tea set sat on the stainless steel draining board.

  “Here, Bugsy! There is no need for this,” Tibbs shouted at her. “I’m trying to help you and you've shafted me. I gave you my fucking address!” Annie watched a very embarrassed woman dressing in a hurry. She had a tribal tattoo at the base of spine. Annie’s teenage cousin called them ‘slag tags’. Her eyebrows were shaved and penciled into a heavy wedge shape. When they went to town shopping, her cousin would nudge her, “look Auntie Anne, a ‘scouse brow’.” The woman looked around the uniformed gathering without making eye contact with anyone. She particularly avoided Annie’s eyes.

  “You’ve met someone your own age, I see,” Alec said what Annie was thinking. She had expected the worst. “What’s your name, luv?”

  “Angel,” she said climbing into a faux fur jacket.

  “Angel?” Alec said. “Are they all called that?” he turned to Annie with a half smile on his face. “Were you here of your own accord?”

  “What,” she said. “Is he taking the piss?”

  “Were you forced here, Angel?” Annie translated.

  “No, of course not!”

  “Of course not?” Alec repeated. “What are you doing here then?”

  “Use your imagination, darling,” she said sarcastically. “You’d be amazed what I will do for fifty quid. Richard is a regular aren’t you, darling. You should give it a whirl sometime, might loosen you up.”

  “I’m as loose as I need to be, thanks,” Alec mumbled. “Get her out of here.”

  “Oh,” Angel objected loudly. “I haven’t been paid yet!”

  “The money is in my jeans,” Tibbs interrupted.

  “Normally
you would have to wait, Angel,” Annie nodded to a uniformed officer as she spoke. “But under the circumstances, this officer will give you the money, as you won’t be seeing this scumbag for a century or more.”

  “That sounds bad,” Angel tottered towards the door on heels too big for her. “What has he done?”

  “Get her out of here.”

  “What did he do? Have I bonked someone famous?” The fly-screen fell off the doorway and clattered onto the linoleum. “This fucking dump is falling to bits,” she ranted as she was led away. “I never liked this dump. It smells of old peoples’ piss,” she called, as they pushed her out of the front door.

  “Nice lady,” Alec commented.

  “I thought so until you lot kicked my front door in!” Tibbs was furious. “What was that all about? I’ve done nothing but help you lot. I even gave you my address.”

  “You did but you didn’t give us your other name, Mark Weston, did you?”

  “I’m in the witness protection program. They have to change my name.” Tibbs looked at Alec. “You know that don’t you?”

  “That’s enough for now,” Alec said.

  “You’re under arrest for breach of bail conditions.” Annie read him his rights and let the uniformed officers take him away. When he was out of earshot, she spoke to Alec. “I’ll have this place searched before we sit him down. I want the results from Breck Road and all the reports back from the registry offices before I talk to him again. He’s not fobbing us off again this time.”

  Alec thought about what the Major had said. If Tibbs refused to talk and demanded to speak to his handlers, then he could slip through their hands again. He couldn’t let this happen. Alec decided that he would leak it to the press about who he was and that he was a suspect in the Crosby Beach murders. The army would drop him like a bad smell and find another way to cover up his past. It would also blow away all credibility in anything he said. He had to keep his plan close for now, not even Annie Jones could know.

  “While they process him, let’s go to Breck Road and speak to Kathy,” Alec suggested.

  “Yes, we’ll do that, Guv.” They left the uniformed officers combing the house. Annie began to make a series of phone calls as they walked from the house to the car. Alec listened to each in turn and decided that he would have made them in exactly the same order. She was a chip off the old block, a good detective who needed some luck.

  Chapter 30

  The stench of burning reached them three streets before they actually set eyes on the smouldering ruins of 163 Breck Road. It reminded Annie of bonfire night. That memory triggered the thought of a baked potato, wrapped in tinfoil, roasted in the white ash as the fire burned down; the fluffy white interior a contrast against the blackened crispy jacket, with lashings of melted butter and way too much salt. Her memories reminded her that she hadn’t eaten for twelve hours. Brushing the thoughts away, Annie broke the quiet. “Good news, Guv.” A truck crane was lifting roof timbers from the rubble, while fire fighters sifted through the more manageable debris by hand.

  “Good,” Alec answered. “Don’t keep it to yourself.” He saw a JCB digger skimming the top layer from the garden as white-clad technicians studied the soil beneath. There was no scope for any more people on the site without compromising safety. Annie had organised things well.

  “That was Stirling. He showed some of the enhanced images to Janice Nixon and she recognised one of them. We’re running her name through the system. She also said that two of the dead women worked on the streets in Kensington and then moved to work at a brothel. Have a guess where it was?”

  “I assume that I am looking at where it used to be?” Alec looked from the wreckage to Annie and back again.

  “Yes, Guv.”

  “That changes everything. This pushes the cause of the explosion towards the deliberate option.”

  “It does, Guv.” Annie swallowed hard. “We’ve opened Pandora’s box here.”

  “Well let’s hope we do a better job of closing it than she did.”

  “On a brighter note, Stirling said that Tasha Jenkins is awake and talking. Lewis is setting up a formal identification parade for first thing in the morning.” Alec sighed and nodded. Slowly, slowly catches the monkey, he thought. One block at a time, the puzzle had to fit together. If they forced it, they would smash it and it would never take shape. The problem with their puzzle was that the pieces never remained the same shape for long. They morphed and altered into something else entirely if they didn’t use them quickly. They exchanged a silent glance and opened the doors, climbing out before heading towards the mobile laboratory. The smell of scorched timber carried to them on the breeze. It was tinged with the scent of gas. The sound of diesel generators drowned out a hail of questions from the press cordon further up the street.

  “Guv,” Kathy Brooks called from the rear of the trailer-lab. “You need to see this. I’m glad you’re here.” The JCB engine gunned as it picked up a grab full of turf. The sound seemed to resonate through the ground. “I’ve had some very interesting results.”

  “That sounds encouraging,” Alec said. “I hope you’ve got something solid, Kathy. We need a break.” He caught the eye of the fire chief, fifty yards across the grass and waved. He returned the wave but shook his head and put a thumb down. “No joy with the search yet,” he muttered beneath his breath. “I can’t see anyone climbing out of that alive.” Kathy held the door open and they stepped into a brightly lit lab. Halfway down the trailer, clear glass partitioned the sorting lab from the testing area. Alec watched as a scientist stood in a decontamination chamber between the two. “Tell me what you have,” he sighed wearily. “If it’s not good, make something up.”

  “You look tired, Annie,” Kathy pointed out.

  “Thanks,” she replied sourly. “I’ve already been called Bugsy today, now you start.”

  “Who called you that?” Kathy frowned angrily. “The cheeky bastard!”

  “No one that I’m worried about.”

  “Seriously though,” Kathy whispered, “you look knackered.”

  “She’s going to be having an early night tonight,” Alec interrupted. “I need my DI fully rested to commence battle at zero, eight-hundred hours tomorrow. We’ve got a suspect to interrogate.”

  “Interview.”

  “Sorry,” Alec saluted. “Interview.”

  “I’d get that in writing if I was you,” Kathy winked at Alec. “If I had a pound for every time he said that I needed an early night!”

  “You’d have less than a fiver,” Alec finished the sentence.

  “Okay, I can sense that Annie isn’t the only one who needs some sleep,” Kathy huffed. “Firstly the van, which Tasha Jenkins was allegedly abducted in.” She brought up a report on her laptop. “It was cleaned superficially. Someone had a very good go at wiping it clean.”

  “No trace?” Annie asked confused.

  “What I’m saying is that someone tried to remove all the trace.”

  “But failed?”

  “Yes,” Kathy nodded as she spoke and pointed to the screen. “I can put Tasha into the front seat. I recovered her hair between the gearstick and the seat-belt anchor and skin cells beneath her finger nails belong to Dazik Kraznic.”

  “She scratched him,” Annie smiled. “Good girl.”

  “It’s a good start,” Alec agreed.

  “That’s the kidnap charge sorted,” Annie sighed with relief.

  “I’ve also matched dead skin from Tasha and Francis Grant on the Taser spikes. They were assaulted with that weapon.”

  “Excellent!” Annie clasped her hands together.

  “We also have Kraznic’s hair in the weld of the Taser handle. You have your attacker connected to the assault weapon too.”

  “He doesn’t deny picking it up,” Alec pointed out. “He said that he picked it up just before the FET went in.”

  “Did he say that he tried to use it on them?” Kathy asked.

  “No and they didn’t re
port him trying to use it either,” Annie added. “Why?”

  “Because the hair has been frazzled, subjected to an electric source of substantial voltage. Most of it was carbon but there was enough to extract DNA.” She explained. She pointed to a magnified image on the screen. “It’s from his finger or hand and it was there before the Taser was discharged. He had it in his hand when it was used.”

  “That’s a relief,” Alec said. “So we have him in the van and using the Taser. What about in the house?”

  “We don’t have anything from the cellar, I’m afraid. We were processing it when the explosion hit,” Kathy paused. Her hand went to her mouth. She took a deep breath and composed herself. “What I did get from inside before the explosion is very interesting.”

  “Good, we really need to get busy on whatever you’ve got,” Alec replied.

  “Oh, you’ll be busy alright.” Kathy handed them a print out, six pages long. “We found prints all over the house. Nine sets are in the system. There are their names. You’ve got some heavyweights on that list.”

  “Kolorov is on here, Guv,” Annie said excitedly. “I recognise three of his men too.”

  “Look here,” Alec pointed. “John Ryder. This ties in with what Stirling got from Janice Nixon. She said the place was a brothel for a time, backed by Russian money. That ties in with John Ryder working with them. We know they own property together.”

  “They are serious criminals, yes?” Kathy asked, concerned.

  “Yes,” Annie replied. “About as serious as they can get.”

  “Were my people blown up on purpose?” Kathy’s voice broke slightly. “Was that explosion set deliberately?”

  “We won’t know until the fire officers have finished,” Alec tried to reassure her.

  “Annie and I turned off the gas at the meter.”