Ximena looked up. “Lana. She’s with . . .” She stopped at the sound of a door closing, followed by heavy footsteps descending the stairs.
A large middle-aged man lumbered into view and stopped at the sight of Liz. “Well, now. What’s this? New inventory? Where’s your bed, luv?” He sidled up to her, putting his hand on her waist. His fingers began tracing a line toward her breast.
She smiled and extracted her warrant card. “Any farther and a custody officer will be giving you a bed in the nick.” The man blanched, spun on his heel, and bolted out the front door.
Elaine turned back to Ximena. “I hope there are no more where he came from. Please call Lana down.”
When Lana appeared, Elaine directed the two young women to sit on the sofa while she and Liz took the chairs.
“Now then. I assure you that we only want some information.” She held the photo of Greene and the young woman outside the supermarket. “Do you recognize these two people?”
Ximena’s eyes roamed over the photo. She nodded. “That’s Gordo.”
“Gordo? Is that what you call him?”
Ximena smirked. “He’s a pig.”
“Tell me. How do you know him?”
“He collects money. Puts it in a bag. If we don’t give him a blow job when he wants, he says he will tell the boss that we stole the money, and the boss will beat us. Or maybe worse.”
“I see. Who is the young woman? Do you know her?”
Lana spoke. “That’s Katya. She works here too.”
“Where is she now?”
“I don’t know. She went with Gordo. He said the boss was having a party and asked for her.”
Elaine held out the photo of Danilo. “Is this the boss?”
Ximena and Lana exchanged glances. Lana spoke again. “Yes.”
“What’s his name? Do you know where he lives?”
Lana shook her head. “Danilo. He’s Serbian. He likes Katya. He takes her to his house sometimes for parties.” She looked aside for a moment. “Katya knows how to please him.”
“Do you know where his house is?”
The women looked at each other before Lana answered. “No. We’ve never gone with him, only Katya.”
Elaine put the photo back in the envelope. “Right, then. Thank you both for your help. You see, we’re investigating a much bigger crime than brothel keeping. Some young women have been murdered recently, and we have reason to believe that your boss is involved. We also believe that Katya is in danger and that the two of you may be as well. Here are our cards. Call us if you see or hear from Danilo. He’s a very dangerous man.”
“What about Katya? She’s my cousin.” Lana appeared worried. “I’m going to leave.”
Liz pulled out her notebook. “Write her a note. We’re looking for her too. When we find her, I’ll see that she gets it. We’re not interested in arresting her. We want the boss.”
THIRTY
“Listen up, boys and girls.” Elaine surveyed the faces gathered for the morning status meeting. “Uniform found a clamped Transit, not five blocks from the Khoury’s store. The registration matches, so it looks like we may have been right about the area where he’s gone to ground. Paula, organize a house-to-house. Liz, you’re with me. Simon and Bull, we need to have a little talk with Greene. Bring him in and don’t mess about. Arrest him for brothel keeping. Evan, request CCTV for the area, then get with Land Registry. We need to know the ownership of every property within a two-block radius. Look for anything that you suspect could be associated with IRG. I smell him, people.”
She could tell from the intense faces of her team that each of them did too.
* * *
A soft pinging sound indicated a text message had arrived on Anton’s off-the-books mobile phone. He read the single word and pressed a speed-dial key. As usual, there were no niceties.
“Greene’s being arrested. Hope ordered it. He’ll be in custody within the hour.”
Anton rang off, replaced the mobile in the drawer, and turned his chair toward his window. He had seen it coming but hadn’t realized how quickly Nilo would completely lose control. Now, of all times, he runs off the tracks. Damn that irresponsible little shite. There were definite benefits to running a family business, but there were drawbacks as well. It could make discipline difficult, especially when the miscreant was the boss’s son. Something needed to be done about Greene and Nilo. Dealing with Greene was no problem. Dealing with Nilo would be. He walked to Janko’s office and closed the door. Janko raised his eyebrows expectantly.
Anton got straight to the point. “Greene’s arrested. Hope will have him in custody within the hour.”
“Then we need to deal with him. Bail should be no problem. Make sure someone we know shows up as his brief. He knows where Nilo is. Do you think we need to move the brat?”
“I think we need an accident or two.”
Janko nodded. “Goran is available. He can be here tomorrow. I’ll talk to Marko.”
* * *
The weather had turned blustery. Low, gray clouds had already begun to spit large drops of rain. It was getting colder. Elaine turned up the collar on her donkey jacket and took in the scene.
The white Transit looked forlorn, as if the big yellow boot engulfing its front wheel were a shark emerging from the tarmac, intent on dragging it into the abyss. The locksmith was there and had opened the door. Elaine and Liz watched as a gloved officer gave the van a cursory search prior to it being hauled away to forensics. Paula was nearby, organizing the house-to-house team.
Thank god the house-to-house on this street wouldn’t take long. It was a short cul-de-sac, with eight fully detached red brick houses lining it on either side, each with the standard-issue small front garden and neatly trimmed hedge. Most of the houses appeared to have been built in the later years of Queen Victoria’s reign, no doubt for bankers, solicitors, and merchants of the newly developing upper-middle class. The current residents were apparently in similar secure economic situations, as all the houses appeared well kept and in good condition.
As she scanned the street, she noticed an elderly woman peering around a curtain at the front of the house nearest the van. This was as good a place as any to start, so with Liz in tow, she strode up the walk and rang the bell. The door sprang open instantly. An ancient, tiny woman, with cataract glasses ballooning her blue eyes, stood before them. She began chirping as she motioned them to enter.
“Hello, luvs. Olivia Marston. Do come in. Harry and I were wondering what all the hubbub was about. We’re so glad you’re removing that awful van. It was such an eyesore. And it’s not ours, in case you were wondering. We have no use for such a thing. Harry always had a nice British saloon. Our first motor was a Humber, and we had it for twenty years, but then I expect neither of you know what a Humber is. Far before your time. You young ladies probably drive around in one of those Triumph or Jaguar things that look like a fish. Now you make yourselves comfortable while I go get the tea. It’s cold out, and you look like you could use something. I put the kettle on and arranged the tea cart as soon as I saw the officers sniffing around the van. Harry and I knew something was up.” She looked at them expectantly.
Elaine couldn’t help but smile. “I’m Detective Chief Inspector Hope. This is Detective Constable Barker. And tea would be lovely, Mrs. Marston.”
“Call me Livvy, luv. I knew you were coppers. Detectives! It’s so nice to see women coppers. Gives it a sense of caring, you know. Not as frightening, you see. I think I would have liked being a copper, but that kind of thing didn’t happen in my day. And Harry would never have stood for it. Would you, Harry?”
Both Elaine and Liz started as two loud thumps came from the ceiling. Livvy cackled.
“One for yes, two for no. Always startles visitors the first time. My Harry doesn’t ever come down anymore. Too dangerous, seeing as how he’s blind now and I’m not as strong as I once was, so I can’t help him as much nowadays. Wrestling him up and down the stairs woul
d be terribly difficult for me. He doesn’t speak much either, but I know he appreciates everything I do, and he can hear just fine, which is a blessing. I suppose. Our grandson installed some kind of microphone that runs up to the upstairs room so Harry won’t be left out. See? There on the wall. Nice boy. We’re so proud. Cambridge. He got his degree in maths you know, and he works at one of those big companies in the City. Now which was it? Oh . . .” Three thumps reverberated from the ceiling. She looked up. “I’m sorry. I do prattle on sometimes. I’ll go get the tea.”
She had indeed arranged the tea earlier, because she returned in moments, pushing a small tea cart that groaned and squeaked under its load of a teapot in a cozy, the usual accoutrements, and a plate heaped with chocolate biscuits. Elaine began speaking while Livvy distributed the tea and biscuits. She spoke quickly, barely pausing between words.
“Thank you so much for your hospitality, Livvy. The biscuits are lovely. We were wondering if you happened to see the person who left the van in front of your home. I have a photo here I would like you to look at.” She held out the picture of Nilo.
Livvy studied it closely, moving it up and down and side to side in front of her eyes. Finally, she nodded her head. “That could be him. My vision isn’t what it once was. But it was a young hooligan. In such a hurry. They all are, it seems. He ran up on the pavement while he was parking it. Nearly frightened poor Emma Winthorpe out of her skin, he did. She was walking by, you see. Not that it’s too difficult to do that, frighten her, if you get my meaning, but . . .”
“Thanks, Livvy. Do you happen to know if he lives on your street? We need to find him.” Elaine knew the last statement was a mistake as soon as she spoke.
“In trouble, is he? Wanted for something he’ll no doubt deny to the magistrate. Is he one of those vandals I read about? Or a burglar? A burglar on our street? We haven’t had one of those since, oh . . .” Three more thumps jarred Livvy back into the present. She sighed. “Let’s see. No, I don’t know, exactly. Maybe third house down, the other side? He went that way, though. Right after Emma gave him a piece of her mind for scaring her so.” She pointed down the street. “He laughed at her, right in her face. You would think he had no sense of shame. Was there anything else, dear?”
Elaine realized that Nilo might be in the house right now. What would he do when an unarmed, unsuspecting officer knocked on his door? He was, after all, a violent killer and might be armed. She turned to Liz. “Go find Paula and have her immediately pull everyone back. Order up a watcher for the end of the street. Everyone needs to stand down, right now. Then get back here and let me know when you’re done. I don’t want a single copper to be seen in a two-block radius. Do you get my meaning?” Liz nodded and excused herself, pulling her mobile from her purse as she left. Elaine turned back to Livvy.
“I do apologize. Have you seen him since then? Coming or going?”
“No, I haven’t. But Emma lives that direction. Third house down, this side. She may know. I know she’s still all bumbies about it. We had tea yesterday, and she was going on about how she shook for hours, what with the fright and all. She was saying that the last time she felt that frightened was four, no, three months ago . . .” Three thumps. Livvy huffed at the microphone on the wall. “Now you listen, Harry. That’s it from you. I’m just trying to help these nice detectives by giving them all the information they may need, telling them about that young lady who was attacked, and there you go interrupting me before the words even get past my tongue.”
Elaine leaned toward Livvy, her eyes locked on her face. “Am I right that you said a young woman was attacked right here on your street? Did you know her? Did anyone notify the police?”
“We didn’t know her from Adam. Or Eve, I suppose. The poor thing was running down the middle of the street, her clothes torn, crying to the heavens, and then she tripped herself up and fell in a heap. Jim Lewis was working in his front garden, so he screamed for Betty, his wife, and he went into the street and wrapped her in his jacket—it was a right cool November day, for that’s when it was—and sat her down on his garden chair. She finally calmed down, didn’t want to make a fuss. She said she didn’t want any help and wouldn’t say much. She only wanted to go home. So she thanked Jim and Betty and walked to the end of the street. I suppose she caught a bus. But she was running from that other direction. No doubt it was that same hooligan.”
Elaine looked up from her notebook. “Do you remember anything about her? Her age? Did you get her name?”
“No, dear. I didn’t speak with the poor thing. Or see her. It was my day to go to the center for my exercises and bridge. So it would have been a Wednesday. I heard all this from Betty. They live across.” She pointed out the window. “You might ask her. More tea?”
The doorbell rang. Elaine stood, saying, “I’m sorry, Livvy, but that must be my colleague. I really must leave now. We do want to find this young man very quickly. You’ve been so gracious and helpful—more helpful than you could possibly know. I can’t thank you enough.”
She met Liz at the door, and together they returned to the car. Elaine knew it was close to over. The scent of her quarry was so strong, she was almost giddy. Her phone chirped before they got back to Liz’s car. It was Bull telling her Greene was waiting at the station.
THIRTY-ONE
“His brief is on the way, Chief Inspector.”
Elaine nodded at the young officer, who turned and left the observation room. Through the one-way window, she saw Greene sitting at the table. When he was taken into custody, he had acted indignant, asked for his solicitor, and refused to answer any questions. Like all lawyers, Greene had blustered and threatened legal action against the Met and against her personally. She had stood and listened quietly. When he had blustered himself breathless, she had quietly told him that really, she had much more experience at this sort of thing than he had, and as far as she could see, there was only one thing for him to do. They would all play their parts, but in the end he would listen to her. She had told him to wait and use the time to think about his situation and choose the route that he and his solicitor should take. Then she had left him alone with his thoughts.
As with anyone who wasn’t truly hardened, his bravado disappeared as soon as there was no one to listen to it. First he paced, then he sat fuming, occasionally pounding his fist on the table. For the last five minutes, he had his hands over his face, talking to himself, mumbling and shaking his head. He was getting ripe. Moments later, the lawyer entered. Elaine walked up the corridor to the canteen. She wanted to enjoy a good cuppa before she ruined Greene’s sorry existence.
Jack O’Rourke, the duty prosecutor, was sitting at a table with Simon and Bull. He smiled and waved some papers at her as she sat down. “I read the summary report. May I watch you have your way with him? I find it incredibly erotic, you know. Much better than porn.” Simon sat back and rolled his eyes. Bull’s jaw dropped.
Elaine looked down at her tea and grimaced. She really didn’t have time for this, but the guy was a prosecutor and she needed him on her side. “You’re a sick and twisted soul, Jacko. If the powerful in the CPS knew that, you’d be fast-tracking your way to stardom like that Olympic sprinter—Bolt or whatever his name is.”
Jacko laughed. “I passed him long ago, luv. You know the dinner offer still stands, don’t you?”
She didn’t look up. “Oh, I’m sure it does. You just want to get me across the table so you can see what a good grilling feels like. Sounds too much like work to me.”
“You figured me out, sweetheart. One thing. It’s not a table I want to get you across.”
“Oh, really? I had you pegged as a kitchen table kind of guy. A true romantic.”
Paula was walking toward her with a sheaf of papers in her hand. Thank God.
“Guv? We found the house. Cambrian Estates is the owner, the same as the Leaside industrial estate. And guess what? One of the duty officers passed this along. Some kids were playing football in Waterlow P
ark this morning when a young woman staggered out of the woods. She was naked, covered in blood from a head wound, and she passed out before the ambulance arrived. She’s in the hospital. It appears she was raped and beaten. The officers took photos at A&E. She looks a lot like the woman who was with Greene.”
Elaine took the papers and scanned through them. Given the swelling and bandages, solid identification from the photo would have been difficult. But she felt it was enough. “Right, then. We’ll take down the house. I’ll call Cranwell to get authorization. You and Simon set it in motion with Specialist Firearms Command while I break down Mr. Greene. I shouldn’t be long. Don’t be afraid to interrupt me. Be sure to bring me anything you need me to sign. Bull, you’re with me at the interview. Let’s go.” She pulled out her mobile and dialed.
* * *
Elaine removed several photographs from an envelope and looked at Greene, who sat across the table next to his solicitor. “I suppose you know why you were arrested?” Greene gave no response, so she continued.
“We’ve had some houses under surveillance. Vice is convinced they are brothels.” She arranged several photos on the table. “These were taken some days ago. As you can see, you enter each of these houses, then emerge a few minutes later. The bag you are carrying appears to have gotten heavier with each visit. What was in the bag, Mr. Greene?” Again, Greene was silent.
“This next set of pictures was taken after you arrived back at your office. They show a young man arriving and leaving. Do you know him?” Silence.
“I assure you that we have enough evidence to make the brothel-keeping charge stick. Cooperation is your best option here, Mr. Greene. I’m sure your solicitor would agree. Here’s a better photo of the young man.” She slid the photo of Nilo’s face across the table. “Do you recognize him now?”
Souls of Men Page 20
