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

by Conrad Jones

  “Fucking bitch!” The officers flattened him against the floor. His legs kicked out wildly as they cuffed him roughly.

  “Get an ambulance now,” Alec called over the shouting. He looked at Annie and felt vomit rising in his guts. Her left hand covered her ruptured eye and he guided her right hand over the jetting wound on her neck. “Keep pressure on that, Annie,” he said loudly. “Get a paramedic in here, quickly!”

  “They’re on their way, Guv.”

  Tibbs was bundled away kicking and screaming every step. Alec swallowed hard and assessed her injuries. She was savaged. “Stay with me, Annie.” He pressed his hand over hers against her neck. The jet of blood pulsed with her heartbeat and it was so powerful that it squirted between both sets of fingers. Alec tried desperately to stem the flow.

  “Help me,” she hissed. Blood and saliva spurted from the hole in her cheek, mixing with the aqueous fluids from her eye. “Please, Alec. Don’t let me die!” Her breathing was fast and deep. Alec felt helpless as he watched her blood pooling on the floor beneath her. The light in her remaining eye was dimming fast. Alec pressed harder, closed his eyes and prayed that the paramedics would make it before it was too late.

  Chapter 35

  Alec woke up with a crick neck and a head full of cotton wool. He screwed up his face and moaned softly and tried to remember where he was and what had happened. It had become a daily routine for him. Wake up and work out where he was. He had lost count of the number of mornings when he had awoke and reached over to Gail’s side of the bed, just to make sure that it wasn’t all a bad dream and that she was actually dead. He wasn’t sure what he would do if he ever reached over and found that she was actually there next to him. That would mean the he was dead too, or something equally confusing. It wasn’t such a bad idea to be next to her again, if the transition from alive to dead was quick and pain free. He could only wish that he had told her that when she was alive. The smell of disinfectant drifted to him and the constant chatter of strange voices reaffirmed that he was in hospital. An aching pain in his shoulder confirmed his location. The memory of being punctured by a ballpoint was fresh. He rubbed his tired eyes and sat up.

  “How are you feeling, Guv?” the gruff voice of Jim Stirling greeted him. “I put a coffee next to you a while ago. It might be cold now but I didn’t want to wake you up.” Alec looked around the relatives’ room. He had fallen asleep in an armchair; Stirling was draped on a settee opposite him. Sunlight was filtering through the blinds, which must have been closed by a nurse. Alec could remember staring at the stars before he finally drifted off. He felt guilty for sleeping while his Inspector was fighting for her life. The truth was, he felt responsible for her attack. He had tried to stop Tibbs, but had failed miserably. The man went berserk. His strength had been frightening. In the confined space of the interview room, with all the furniture bolted down, maneuverability was impossible. Wrestling himself between Tibbs and Annie had taken only seconds but it was long enough for him to pummel her pretty face with a sharp metal instrument in his fist. In the hands of a psychopathic killer, a twenty-pound Parker pen had become a lethal spike.

  “How’s Annie?” Alec asked. He reached for the coffee and guessed from the streaks on the surface that it was a half an hour old at least. He slurped at it gratefully, regardless of the temperature.

  “She’s in a bad way, Guv.”

  Alec put his head into his hands and sighed. “I should have been quicker.”

  “There was nothing more that you could have done, Guv. You broke his jaw and knocked two teeth out.”

  “I should have seen it coming. We kept prodding him for a reaction and we got one.”

  “He’s bashed his own head in against the wall of the cell, Guv. They had to strap him to the cot. Personally, I’d have left the bastard to brain himself.”

  “It won’t get Annie her eye back.” Alec stood up and stretched. “I’m going to go and see how she is.”

  “They’ve taken her back into surgery, Guv.” Stirling said. “They can’t get her blood pressure stabilized. She’s bleeding internally somewhere.”

  “That’s not good.”

  “No.”

  “Tibbs?” Alec walked to the blinds and opened them. The fourth floor window looked out over the university district. The catholic cathedral dominated the view like a huge metal wigwam on the horizon. Below, the streets were crammed with hundreds of students making their way to lectures in the dozens of historic buildings which made up the campus. He yearned for their youth, their blind ambition and their innocent nonchalance as they faced the rest of their lives, oblivious of the horrors which it held. They were excited by the latest album, the next big fashion accessory and each other. “What have they done with the bastard?”

  “He’s being assessed at Risley. No doubt his brief will claim that he’s lost his marbles.” Stirling knew that they wouldn’t section him unless absolutely necessary. He could butt as many walls as he wanted to, but that didn’t make him mad. “There’s been some developments while you were sleeping.”

  “You should have woken me up,” Alec sounded annoyed.

  “There was little point,” Stirling shrugged. “Boris Kolorov and John Ryder were murdered last night.”

  “What?” Alec felt adrenalin coursing through him. News like this was bound to have an impact across the city. The death of one gangster would cause a reaction and it was not always a good reaction. Two deaths could turn a ripple into a Tsunami.

  “Kolorov was hit by a sniper as he sat in a bar in the De Wallen district of Amsterdam.”

  “Amsterdam?”

  “Yes, one shot through the forehead. Definitely a professional hit. Ryder had his throat slashed a half mile away about the same time. The Dutch police haven’t got any leads on either murder yet and they’re asking us for information on Ryder. Kolorov is on their system but Ryder isn’t.”

  “Were they together?”

  “Bit of a coincidence if they weren’t, Guv, but the Dutch haven’t pieced it together yet.”

  “What do you think?” Alec swigged the cold coffee and grimaced at the taste.

  “Looks to me like they’ve upset someone further up the food chain.”

  “Connected to Breck Road burning down?”

  “Maybe but I doubt it. They both have bigger fish to fry,” Stirling said. “Somebody torched Breck Road to slow up our search and my money is on Tibbs doing it.” Stirling paused. “A double hit in the centre of Amsterdam stinks of drugs, or trafficking to me. They’ve crossed the wrong outfit and been rubbed out.”

  “Let the Dutch have everything we have on Ryder and Kolorov.” Alec turned away from the window. “I think that we should go and have a word with Kraznic to see exactly what went on at Breck Road.” He turned as a doctor walked into the room. She had her corkscrew hair tied up at the back of her head. Her teeth looked uncannily white against her Asian skin. A silver pen glinted from her clipboard and Alec felt a pang of guilt.

  “Your Inspector is in our ICU. We found the bleed and we’ve managed to stem it for now, but she’s very poorly.”

  “Can you save her eye?”

  “Not a chance,” she grimaced. “There was nothing left to save. Her sight is almost irrelevant at the moment. She might not make it.”

  “What are her chances?” Alec asked.

  “Fifty-fifty, at best.” She turned and opened the door. “I’ll call you if there is any change.”

  “Thanks,” Alec said quietly. The door closed and he turned to Stirling as the big detective’s mobile buzzed.

  “Stirling,” he answered. The caller spoke a few sentences which made his face darken. Alec thought that it wasn’t just bad news, it was very bad news. “What about the assault?” he seemed incredulous. “Get vice to bring her in. Let’s see if being charged with soliciting might change her mind. Thanks for the heads up.” Stirling sighed and shook his head. Alec waited patiently for him to calm down enough to speak. “Tasha Jenkins has identified K
raznic as the man that she got in the van with, however, she’s saying that she went of her own free will and was paid for what she did. She’s saying that she was a willing participant in everything that happened.”

  Alec breathed deeply and then expelled the air through pursed lips making a faint whistling sound. He felt a knot of anger strangling his guts. “Come on, let’s get out of here. I need some hot coffee on the way. Maybe Kraznic can make some sense out of all this mess before they let him walk.”

  “Guv.”

  “I’ll buy us a do-nut to cheer us up,” Alec opened the door as he spoke and let the big detective amble past. “On second thoughts, I’ll buy you two.”

  Chapter 36

  After making a few phone calls, Alec was afforded a visit to Walton Jail. HMP Walton has eight wings which date back to 1854, surrounded by a much more modern mushroom topped wall. The site of over sixty hangings, its gruesome Victorian legacy lingers in the very bricks and mortar. It is a desperate place, depressing, dank and oppressive. It was built when a jail was a gaol and the noose was used freely. They checked their belongings in at reception and were allowed to forgo the indignity of a full search because of their rank. Normal visiting time was not for five hours and the waiting room was empty. Alec didn’t like being parted from his mobile while Annie was in ICU. He felt out of touch. Prisons always made him edgy, despite being able to leave at any point.

  They were led through a series of interlocking barred gates to the waiting room, which had a tiled floor; the edges were blackened where the residue of years of mopping was allowed to build up. It had the smell of a towel left in a sports bag too long; a mixture of damp and sweat. The door between the waiting room and the visiting area rattled and then opened on squealing hinges.

  “Ready when you are, Detectives,” a thin guard called them in. His shoulders looked like someone had left the coat hanger inside his shirt. “I’m Officer Davis and I’ll be facilitating your interview.”

  “Thanks,” Alec nodded curtly. There was no love lost between prison officers and the detectives. Both viewed the other with resentment and suspicion.

  “Is it true that you’re the detectives working on the Butcher case?” he asked excitedly. “My missus is going mad for it. She’s watched every bit of news available online, twice at least. She’s buying every newspaper which is carrying the story; costing me a bloody fortune!” he nudged Alec with his elbow, “It’s not every day we get a serial killer on the doorstep is it?”

  “Whatever keeps her happy? It’s cheaper than her going to the bingo every day,” Stirling grunted. “Where is our man?”

  “He’s on his way down,” the guard replied chirpily. “So is this to do with the Butcher then, or not?”

  “Not,” Alec said shortly. “We’re speaking to Kraznic on a completely unrelated matter.”

  “You have to say ‘no’ though, don’t you?” he nudged Stirling but this time the withering look he received deterred him from doing it again. “Is it to do with the murders?”

  “No.”

  “Oh well,” the guard shrugged, “I’ll tell the wife that I met you anyway.”

  “You do that,” Alec smiled thinly.

  “She thinks that you look like the other Ramsay fella,” he joked. “You know the chef bloke who swears all the time. What’s his name?”

  “Gordon,” Stirling laughed. “Never had that before have you, Guv?”

  “Never.”

  A door at the far end of the visiting area opened and a guard walked in guiding Kraznic by the elbow. He shuffled along the row of tables and sat down with a bump. His bulging eyes were almost hidden by swelling. The lids were purple with hues of blue at the corners. He didn’t look at either detective as he sat down nervously. “What happened to your face?” Alec asked.

  “I fell.” He didn’t look up as he answered. His voice was thick as if his lips were swollen inside.

  “What happened to him?” Stirling asked the guard.

  “He was found in the showers,” he shrugged, “if he says that he fell, then he fell. Nothing more we can do about it.”

  “I bet a lot of people fall in here, eh?” Stirling mumbled. The guard grunted and walked away. He leaned against the wall and pretended not to listen to their questioning.

  “Do you know a man called Mark Weston?” Alec sat down opposite him.

  “Yes,” he replied without looking up.

  “How do you know him?”

  “I did some work for him.”

  “What kind of work?”

  “All kinds.”

  Alec nodded to Stirling and he placed six photographs onto the table. They were black and white images of males of various size, age and race. “Do you recognise any of these men?”

  “Him,” Kraznic pointed to a picture of Tibbs. “That’s him.”

  “What were you doing when you were arrested at one six three Breck Road?” Alec studied him as he thought about his answer. He didn’t twitch or move. His hands remained still and he kept his voice clear and calm.

  “Delivering the girl to him.”

  “He hired you to kidnap her?”

  “He hired me to bring him a girl. She was a prostitute. Locking her in the cellar and waiting for her trick was part of the deal. She would have been paid well for it. It was a game and she was part of it.”

  “That’s a different story isn’t it?” Alec asked.

  “I’ve had time to think.”

  “So now she was paid to be in the cellar?”

  “Yes. I think she’ll say the same when she decides to tell the truth.” Kraznic shrugged and continued to look anywhere but at Alec. Alec couldn’t let on that Tasha had already recanted her compliant. “All she had to do was wait in the cellar.”

  “Until Weston arrived?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you know that he had changed his name?”

  “Yes. He changed it to Tibbs when it kicked off at Breck Road.”

  “What happened there?”

  “The girls kept leaving. Something fishy was going on.” Kraznic shrugged. “They didn’t stay longer than a few months and the owners got pissed off with him. They closed the place and kicked him out, but he still has keys.”

  “They got pissed off with Tibbs?”

  “Yes. He managed the place.”

  Stirling frowned and shifted heavily in his seat. “So he stayed at the house?”

  “Most of the time.”

  “Were the girls held there against their will?”

  “No, they were on the game but they came and went as they pleased. Problem was that after a few months of working there, they kept on leaving and never coming back.”

  “Why was that?” Alec asked. “Were they mistreated?”

  “Some of the punters got rough sometimes, but that was part of the job.”

  “So what do you think happened?”

  “Tibbs is a pervert. He was always after freebies. If they said no then he paid them and hurt them. You know what I mean.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “I heard stuff from some of the girls. Even when the place closed down, he still wanted me to bring girls to him.”

  “For what exactly?”

  “Use your imagination. What do you think?”

  “So you took girls there for him to hurt?”

  “Never, I always dropped them off when he was done.” He sniggered and looked at Stirling skittishly. A sneer creased his lips. “That bitch will tell the truth and I’ll be walking out of here any day now.”

  Alec sat back and folded his arms. He frowned as he thought about his next question, deep lines creased his brow. “Okay, you’ve clearly stated that you had nothing to do with harming any of the women. I understand you wanting that to be made clear but we think Tibbs did more than just use their services,” he leaned closer and whispered, “We think he may have killed some of them. Someone connected to that house did. Do you understand how important it is that we don’t blame the wro
ng man?”

  Kraznic rubbed his hands together and bit his lower lip. He considered his next words carefully. “If I was you, I’d look in the cellar.”

  “We did.”

  “You looked in the front cellar, not the back.”

  “Wait a minute,” Stirling snapped. “How do you know where we searched?”

  “I read the newspapers. He wouldn’t let anyone go down the back stairs under the kitchen. If you didn’t know where the entrance was, then you would never find it. If there was any funny business going on, it happened down there.”

  Alec nudged Stirling and he stood up and headed towards the waiting room door without questioning him. He understood immediately that the search of the ruins needed to focus on the rear of the house. The remains of Breck Road had been levelled but not removed. Stirling walked over to the exit guard and gestured to the door. “I need to get to a phone quickly,” Stirling said. He looked over his shoulder at Alec, but his superior was otherwise engaged. “Is Kraznic in segregation?” he whispered to the guard.

  The guard put the key into the lock and turned it noisily. “No, he’s in general population, why?” The door opened and Stirling lumbered through.

  “I’m concerned if anyone found out that he might be connected to what you mentioned earlier,” Stirling winked, “he could become a target.” The big detective walked away without another word and the guard slammed the door shut behind him. He positioned himself as close to the prisoner and the visiting detective as he could, without looking suspiciously like he was ear-wigging. He knew at least two of the cons on C wing were related to one of the Butcher’s victims. They would be very interested that Kraznic was connected to the deaths, however tenuous the connection. He tried to listen to their conversation.