Souls of Men

by A. R. Ashworth

  Once Bull had squeezed into the back seat, Elaine resumed. “So, my chicks, what will he do? Anton’s biggest concern is to protect the family business. He has some options. He could give Nilo up anonymously or try to get him out of the country. I don’t think he’ll give the boy up. Anton most likely can get him out of the country with a few phone calls and some planning. It’s what I would have done. Maybe he’s already tried but couldn’t for some reason.”

  Bull interjected. “He can’t afford for the kid to get caught. Too risky.”

  “Exactly. Nilo knows too much. Maybe he won’t talk when we first question him, but he could let something slip out of bravado or anger or plain stupidity. The kid doesn’t seem to make good decisions. I’d bet a week’s pay that Anton didn’t want Nilo to kill Geri Harding, just scare her, and that Sheila’s murder was Nilo’s doing, all alone. Maybe she told him no and it pissed him off. I doubt we’ll ever know.”

  Liz looked thoughtful. “Are those all of his options?”

  Elaine chuckled. “Oh, no. Another option for Anton would be to kill Nilo and make sure someone finds him in a week or so. Case closed, the police move on to other things, the family gets back to business. They would certainly use foreign muscle that could be in and out of Britain in a day or two at most, without a trace. That fellow that Bull confronted is probably one of them. I’d bet another week’s pay that he killed Greene. Anyway, if Nilo’s murdered, you can be sure it would never be traced back to Anton.”

  “He’d kill his own nephew?”

  Liz looked and sounded nervous, but Elaine continued with the lesson. “If he thought it was best. In the end, it’s about the survival of the family, not individuals. It’s almost like having God on their side. Anything can be justified.” Elaine stopped and considered. Liz and Bull were both looking away, out the side windows of the car, not speaking. They were probably only just now realizing the depth of the evil they faced and what it was capable of doing.

  Bull spoke, “What if that Anton bastard hurts someone? I mean one of us. That’s what you’re saying, isn’t it, boss?” He turned back to face Elaine. “We have to get that bastard.”

  Elaine shook her head. “We need to stay focused on the case. It’s Sheila’s murder we’re investigating. Our first priority is Nilo. Anton needs to get us off his back, so I think he’ll bring this to a close pretty soon. He’ll see to it that Nilo gets out of the country or that we never find him. One way or another.”

  Neither Liz nor Bull looked completely convinced, but Elaine decided to press on. They could sort through it all later. “Now let’s talk about citizen complaints and Professional Standards. What do you think Anton will do?”

  Liz spoke first. “He sounded really serious, guv. His eyes told me he’d go through with it. Maybe he’ll do it just to distract us? But Jesus, I’ve barely started here.”

  Bull extended his arm and placed his hand on Liz’s shoulder, then spoke more to her than to Elaine. “I don’t think he’d file a complaint, swee—” His eyes shifted to Elaine, and he withdrew his hand before he continued. “He’d have to give evidence, and we’d have to talk about why we were there, then he’ll get questioned again, and who knows where that will lead. I don’t think you have to worry about that. I’m not going to.”

  Elaine smiled to herself. Time goes by, but nothing changes, does it? She picked up where Bull left off. “You know how thorough and relentless the Professional Standards officers are. So you don’t have to worry. Even if Anton fools me and files the complaint, when it gets ugly, I’ll cover you. I didn’t tell you what I was going to do before we went in. You were only there because I took you there with me. They won’t do anything more than speak sternly to either of you, if that. They’ll be after me.”

  Liz turned and looked at Elaine askance. “What should I do? I won’t say anything about it on my own, but what if they call me to give evidence?”

  Elaine sighed. “If you’re witnesses, you do what you should always do. You tell the truth about what you saw and did and what I said and did. No embroidery, no suppositions, no whining. It’s what I’ll do.” Liz gave a small nod.

  There was no response from either of the young detectives, only silence. It was time to let them think about it. She gave a short laugh. “Thus endeth today’s lesson. Both of you take the rest of the day off. Get yourself home or to Bull’s place. Wherever.”

  Liz opened the door of the car, but before she got out, she looked at Bull, then turned to face Elaine. “You know, we realized from the start of this that you were giving us a huge opportunity. Me and Bull, both. Thanks, guv. We’ve appreciated it, and we’ve tried hard not to blow it.”

  Elaine shrugged. Bull was waiting patiently for Liz. “You haven’t blown anything.” Liz closed the car door, and Elaine drove out of the multistory car park, wishing she was as confident about the case as she tried to appear.

  * * *

  Anton’s hands trembled and his blood pounded in his ears. The bitch had threatened him. She had marched into his office and challenged him face-to-face. It had taken every ounce of his restraint to remain calm and seated. If he had been back in his village, he would have picked up a stick and beaten the impudent sow until she could no longer squeal for mercy.

  He took a deep breath. He needed to calm down, so he turned in his chair and faced the window. The sun was setting. Its final light was not much more than a red line below the heavy layer of winter clouds. He closed his eyes. What should he do?

  Hope had put on a brave bluff about finding Greene’s backups and the cloud server, but he knew her threats were empty. Nilo and Goran had reported back promptly after setting the fire in Greene’s office. At first that stupid pig thought they had bailed him out of jail because they needed him. When he realized he was in danger, he thought he could save himself by cooperating, so he showed them how to access his remote backup files on the cloud. After they had written it all down, he had begged for mercy until Nilo restrained his arms and Goran’s hand clamped on his throat like a vise. The fire afterward was routine housekeeping.

  By the time the fire brigade had found Greene’s charred body, Anton had already downloaded all of Greene’s backup files to a disc. Afterward, he had deleted everything in Greene’s directories. He knew deletion wasn’t foolproof, and he knew that perhaps Greene had another backup location he didn’t tell them about, but Anton had done all he could do with the information he had. He very much doubted that the police would find the correct server, much less be able to recover anything. So that was taken care of.

  But this Hope bitch. She was bold. She took chances. She had more balls than most of her male counterparts he’d run across, at least more than the high-ranking coppers who went to the corporate and charity affairs and who ate and drank at the same posh restaurants as he and Janko. They all seemed so smooth, so concerned with what the public thought. They took great care about appearances and perceptions, more like politicians than police. Hope didn’t seem to give much of a damn about appearances. Not the way she had trespassed in his office—not once, but twice—and had threatened him across his own desk. She had cast herself as his nemesis, and her investigation was a huge risk to his plans. She had as much as told them she knew there was more to IRG than showed on the surface. There was really no way to know what she would discover if she had enough time. As far as he was concerned, she was a loose cannon.

  So was Nilo. Anton had already called Marko and laid out how the family’s plans were jeopardized by the murder investigation. One of their options was to give up Nilo to the bitch. He could arrange for an informant to tell the detectives where to find him. But once he was in custody, the boy would be too unpredictable. He was always feeding his ego and his insatiable appetite. He would probably try to match his cunning against the police interrogators, which anyone with brains knew was always a losing game. He would begin to crack after he’d been shuffled between a cell and the interrogation room for two days without any cocaine or cigarettes or a
lcohol. He’d shatter like a dropped crock, and there was no telling how many beans he would spill.

  Enough of that. Simply put, he needed for the murder investigation to go away, and he needed to remove any reason the police and the CPS would have for investigating further. There must be no trial.

  After sitting and thinking another half hour, ideas that had been amorphous and obscure solidified. A plan emerged that reached far enough to succeed, even if it was risky. Anton was satisfied. It never took long to work out what to do once he clarified his goals. He felt calm, more like himself, now that he had a plan of action.

  Still, it was such a shame. Nilo had shown promise early on, but he was resistant and didn’t listen. There hadn’t been enough time for Anton to train him to control himself. Like so many young people, he constantly confused gratification with power. Anton hadn’t been able to teach the younger man to harness his ego and give direction to the relentless drive that flowed from within, a drive that was fueled by needs that few people could comprehend. Nilo had not learned to let his desires work for him. If he had, he would understand how exhilarating it could be to crush your opposition. It was better than drugs or women. It was like galloping on the back of a huge and powerful stallion, sitting up high, looking down on other, lesser people. Anton knew how to be the man on horseback.

  THIRTY-EIGHT

  Elaine had just wrapped up the morning status meeting when the constable protecting Katya called to say she had awakened from her coma. Elaine and Liz left immediately for the hospital.

  Katya’s doctor wasn’t keen about allowing Elaine to question her patient, but after many assurances, she agreed to a compromise. “She’s off the respirator, but she is still quite fragile. I’ll be in there with you. You have a maximum of five minutes, but if she shows signs of strain, I’ll end the interview right then.”

  Elaine nodded and moved to the side of Katya’s bed. Liz and the doctor stayed back. Katya’s head was swathed in a bandage that also covered her right eye. Bruises surrounded her left eye and covered her left arm, which lay across her body.

  “Hello, Katya. My name is DCI Hope. I’m so glad you’re back with us and on the mend. DC Barker and I have spoken with your friends Ximena and Lana, and they were very worried about you. I’d like to ask you a few questions about the people who did this to you. Is that all right?”

  Katya tried to speak, but no sound would come out, so she nodded her head. Elaine took a picture from a folder she was carrying.

  “This is a photo of you and a man called Greene. It appears that you are putting some groceries in a car. Do you remember the night you did that?”

  Katya nodded.

  “Good. You’re being very helpful.” Elaine took out another picture, this time of Nilo’s house. “Did he take you to this house?” A nod.

  “And there were men there?” Another nod.

  “Excellent.” Elaine took out the picture of Nilo. “This man is called Nilo. Was he there?”

  Katya’s left eye widened and she tried to turn her head away. It was clearly painful for her to move. The doctor took a step forward but stopped when Katya nodded yet again.

  Elaine continued. “You are doing remarkably well, Katya. Just a few more questions, then we’ll be finished. Is Nilo the man who did this to you? Who beat you and hit you in the head?”

  Tears ran from Katya’s left eye. Elaine pulled a tissue from a box and dabbed it gently to her face. “I know this is painful for you. Take your time. Again, is this the man who hurt you?”

  Katya nodded.

  “Was there another man with him?” At Katya’s nod, Elaine took out the electronic composite picture. “Is this the man who was with him?”

  Katya shook her head slowly. The man Bull had seen wasn’t Nilo’s accomplice.

  Elaine reached out and took her hand. “Thank you. You’ve helped us a great deal. When you’re feeling better, perhaps you can give us a description of the other man. We’re going to catch these monsters, and your testimony will be very important for putting them in prison. I don’t want you to worry about being safe. We’re keeping this location a secret so no one will know where you are, and you’ll have a constable here to protect you at all times. We may need to ask you some more questions later, but now you can rest.” She smiled and gave Katya’s hand a small squeeze.

  Elaine didn’t speak until they were in the lift. “We’ll make a public appeal for information, showing Nilo’s picture along with a warning that he’s dangerous and most likely armed. He is not to be approached. Call Paula and tell her to get it rolling with public affairs. You can help her with it.”

  The appeal was broadcast that evening. Elaine took the lead, flanked by Cranwell, with the core of her team—Paula, Simon, Liz, and Bull—behind her. She described the crimes as brutal murders, stressing the brutality of the assaults along with displayed portraits of Sheila and Geri. She described Nilo’s assault on Katya as attempted murder. The photo of Nilo was displayed on the screen for much of the rest of the broadcast. The video of the appeal was added to the main Met website as well as the various social media sites where the Met had a presence.

  The telephones on the phone bank started ringing immediately afterward. Earnest eyewitnesses, hundreds of miles apart, reported seeing Nilo in Truro and Newcastle. Many scores of other callers claimed that he looked like their sponging brother-in-law, annoying neighbor, or ex-husband. None of this was unusual for the experienced officers answering the telephones. In the end, every call—including the cranks, weirdos, and wild hares—would be sorted, categorized, and considered. It was detailed police work that needed to be done, despite the expense in equipment and staff.

  Elaine monitored the responses for a while. Once she was satisfied that everything was running smoothly, she went home, having left instructions to be notified of any likely leads.

  * * *

  Liz poured coffee from the cafetière into her cup, added milk and two cubes of sugar, and looked out the kitchen window of the flat. It was still cold, but the fluffy clouds and blue sky promised a sunny day. She needed a break from the rain.

  Bull had gone in to the station already to get started on the follow-ups from the appeal. Elaine had felt Liz might be in danger, so she had scheduled Liz for a refresher class on using her baton—the “asp” as many called it. She would go to class, then report to the incident room. She hoped she got there before Elaine left for wherever she was going today. She valued her time with Elaine as much as, or truth be told, probably more than, the time she was able to spend with Bull.

  It was for different reasons, of course. She wanted to take her time with Bull, getting to know him and letting him get to know her. How else would either of them know if it was right or not? He was such a mystery. He was normally kind and soft spoken, gentle, and she knew he could even be tender. But she also saw the tethered violence that lurked under his outward persona. It revealed itself in the way he moved, the way his eyes immediately developed an alertness whenever he sensed any kind of threat. She had only seen him unleash it in Krav Maga class, but even then it was restrained. She was always amazed when he transformed from good-natured DC Philip Bull into a lethal Royal Marine. She trusted him completely as a partner because she knew he would give his life for her if necessary, as she would for him. That was much more than many married couples could ever expect from each other.

  With Elaine, it was different. Liz wanted to watch and listen and learn from her all day, every day. To learn how to conduct an interview and evaluate evidence, how to bring a woman’s perspective to what was still a predominantly male occupation, and how to be dominant when a dirtbag tried to intimidate you. Elaine taught how to be a detective and how to be a cop.

  Her hand went to her belt where her asp hung in its small holster. She jerked it out and flicked it hard. The steel segments slid out to their full length with a loud click—and the hardened tip struck the cafetière, shattering it and sending oozy coffee grounds flowing over the top of th
e counter. Crap. She obviously needed the refresher course.

  Glass and coffee cleaned up, Liz hurried to her car. Was that an envelope under her windscreen wiper? Had Bull left her a note? Brilliant! He had a habit of leaving little teases and cute sayings, sometimes quite naughty ones, folded up and stashed in places where he was sure she would find them. She grinned as she opened it.

  It was not from Bull. She’d handled it with her bare hands, but that couldn’t be helped now. She pulled a plastic evidence bag out of her purse. Holding the letter by its corner, she slid it and its envelope into the bag. Baton class would have to wait.

  * * *

  Upon arrival at the station, she immediately went to Elaine’s office. Liz rapped on the doorpost and entered but stopped short when she saw a square of paper in a plastic bag, lying on the desk in front of Elaine.

  Elaine saw the recognition in Liz’s face. “Come in and shut the door. You got one too, didn’t you? What did yours say?”

  Liz handed her the plastic bag. Elaine turned it to see the printing, smoothed the plastic, and read it in a low voice.

  “Hi Little Red Dragon Bitch I saw the TV last night and what a Sad Show that was. Not Funny!!! NOT AT ALL SO SAD because you just stood there you little WHORE and you let your Auntie SLAG do all the talking well I’m ready to show you how I deal with dragons. You don’t have me now and you won’t ever because I’m going to have you first and when I’m finished with you it will be Strawberries And Cream for you but NOT ME! Be ready for Strawberries And Cream.”

  Elaine picked up the evidence bag containing the note she’d received. “Very much like mine, except mine was more graphically detailed. Was it on your windscreen?”

  Liz nodded again. “Under the wiper. The envelope is in the bag too. Did he say the strawberries and cream thing to you? What did he mean by that?”