Death Trap: Rosie Gilmour 8

by Anna Smith

  ‘They send me. The O’Dwyers. They said to go up and have a look at what the police were digging up.’

  ‘Why? Is it their land?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘So why were they interested?’

  Tadi went silent, then his chin sank to his chest and he shook his head.

  ‘Is so bad, Rosie.’ He sniffed. ‘So bad what we did.’

  Rosie’s heart skipped a beat. Surely to Christ he wasn’t about to confess to the murder of the students, right here in front of her. He didn’t look like a killer, but neither did Boag to the people who had sat next to him in the office for years. Tadi looked up at her.

  ‘They killed Bo. Burned him.’

  ‘Bo? Who’s Bo? Who killed him?’

  ‘The O’Dwyers. He ran away, but Finbar and Timmy – he’s the brother. Bo was an alcoholic. Homeless, like the other men. He’s been there two years. They caught him, and brought him back. They beat him. He said he would go to the police. But then the boss came out and he kicked Bo on the ground til he was nearly dead.’ He paused, shaking his head as though he was reliving it. ‘Then . . . then they poured petrol on him from the pickup truck, and the boss threw a match.’ His hands covered his face. ‘Bo was on fire. I hear him screaming. I hear him screaming in my head.’

  Rosie was aware that her mouth had dropped open a little with shock. She looked at Tadi, her mind a blur, wondering what the hell she was going to do with this kind of information other than call the police.

  ‘They murdered this man Bo? Is that what you’re saying?’

  Tadi nodded, sniffing.

  ‘They killed him. Then they told us, take the body to the field and bury it.’

  ‘My God!’

  Tadi continued, ‘We go with spades and Bo’s body in the bucket of the dumper. He was burned, his whole body burned. We took him to the field and we dug a hole and buried him.’

  Jesus! Rosie remembered Don’s information that they found the remains of a burnt corpse.

  ‘Christ, that’s awful!’

  ‘But also, when we dig the hole, we see that there is other bodies there.’ He covered his face with his hands again. ‘I cannot stop thinking. It was another body. And maybe the skull of a baby, I think. I only saw the shapes for a minute as we put Bo’s body in, but the others saw it, I’m sure.’

  ‘You thought it was a woman and baby in the ground?’

  ‘Yes. Is possible.’

  ‘Jesus, Tadi. What? I mean, what did the others say? Did you talk about it? Going to the police?’

  He shook his head. ‘No. We can’t. We know the O’Dwyers would do the same to us. Me and the other men, we say nothing to anyone. Especially me, because my wife and child are somewhere else. They are not in the farm, where they were working for the first two weeks. They took them away.’

  ‘Who? The O’Dwyers?’

  ‘Yes. They took them because after two weeks I know that we are prisoners, and I try to find a way for us to escape. But they caught us, and beat me, and then they took my wife. They say I will not run if they have my wife somewhere. But today I ran, because now it is worse.’

  Rosie looked at him, confused, wondering how much worse it could be.

  ‘What do you mean, now it is worse?’

  Tadi sat for a moment, gripping the back of his hair, his face grey. Rosie watched as he reached into the pocket of his jeans and brought something out. It looked like an old black and white photograph. He placed it on the table, and Rosie squinted at it, peering to make out the grainy images. Their faces were haunted. A woman stood in the centre, a little boy clinging to her skirt. Rosie’s eyes fell on the star of David sewn into their jackets. She looked at Tadi in disbelief.

  ‘Oh Christ, Tadi. The robbery?’

  He nodded his head slowly. ‘I took it from the safe. Nobody knows I have it. They made me do the robbery. I have no choice. They said that after, I would be free, that I can get my wife and son and go home. But the next day, they laugh in my face.’ His voice cracked. ‘Please help me.’

  Rosie looked at her watch. It was seven thirty. If she was going to talk to the editor she had to do it now. She keyed in his number on her mobile.

  Chapter Sixteen

  ‘Jesus Christ, Rosie! I can’t believe what I’m hearing. We need to tell the police. You know that. We have to contact them tonight.’ McGuire was pacing the floor of his office.

  ‘But you know exactly what will happen if we do that right now, Mick,’ Rosie protested. ‘They’ll arrest Tadi and lock him up. There is no way they’ll go into this softly-softly when there’s been such public outrage on the robbery of the Cimmermans. And if he gets arrested, then what about his wife? If Tadi doesn’t turn up for work tomorrow, the O’Dwyers will wade right in to where his wife is being held. They’ve been using her as blackmail for the past few weeks, and if Tadi is telling the truth, they wouldn’t have any qualms about getting rid of her. They know if they have her, then he’ll have to get in touch with them. And once he does, then it’s curtains for him. He’s a loose cannon as far as they’re concerned. He knows too much. The poor guy is in bits down in the canteen. I’ve left Matt with him, but we need to work something out, fast.’

  The editor stood by the window, arms folded, his heavy eyebrows knitted in concentration and frustration.

  ‘Do you believe him, Gilmour?’

  Rosie puffed. ‘Jesus, Mick! What’s not to believe? Why would he come in here with a story like that? He’s got the bloody photograph from the robbery in his hand.’

  ‘By the way, make sure Matt gets a picture of that. And, of course, of him.’ He let out a long sigh. ‘It’s some story to get our hands on. I can see it all over the front page. But it’s all happened so fast, and we can’t even use it right now. We’re duty bound to tell the cops.’ He paused, his hands out. ‘How do you know he’s not a criminal? That he didn’t take part in the robbery of his own volition and is now grassing everyone up to save himself?’

  Rosie gave a frustrated sigh. ‘I’m as sure as I can be that he’s not. Criminals don’t behave the way he has. I saw him that day being abused by the O’Dwyer guy when he came out of court, and I saw him in the field a couple of days ago. The guy is at his wits’ end. He came here as a last resort. We can’t turn our backs on him.’

  ‘But what the fuck are we supposed to do? Tell me an alternative to calling the cops.’

  Rosie was thinking on her feet. McGuire was right – it was happening too fast.

  ‘Okay. What we do in the next couple of hours is crucial. If I call my detective contact and explain everything, I’m certain he trusts me enough to understand the situation. But because of the importance of the robbery and Tadi’s part in it, plus the bodies that they are trying to identify right now, he can’t just keep that information under his hat. The minute he passes it to his bosses, they’ll be down here in a flash to arrest Tadi. If they believe his story about his wife being held out in Kinning Park, then they might just batter down the door and rescue her. Tadi might be safe, but who knows what will happen to him once they start questioning him closely. And once he grasses the O’Dwyers up, how do we know they won’t just get together and pin everything on him? He’s got a photograph that was stolen in a robbery, so that places him at the scene of the crime. If the O’Dwyers have alibis for the night of the robbery, the police might just conclude that Tadi is part of some Eastern European criminal gang.’

  McGuire listened, turning the scenario over in his mind. ‘You think that’s how it could pan out?’

  ‘I honestly don’t know, but it’s a distinct possibility.’

  ‘So, what’s the alternative?’

  ‘Well, just thinking out loud. What if we talk him into going back to work as normal tomorrow, and that buys some time – in that he’s not missing – so his wife and kid will be safe. The O’Dwyers will know nothing of his visit here.’

  McGuire raised his hands. ‘What happens then? Where does that leave him? And us?’ />
  Rosie was silent for a moment.

  ‘Listen, Mick. My friend is in town – you remember Adrian, the Bosnian.’

  McGuire looked at her, incredulous.

  ‘Oh fuck, Gilmour!’ He waved a finger. ‘No! Every time he’s around there are bodies everywhere.’

  ‘He’s saved my life – more than once. And if it wasn’t for him outside my flat a few months ago, that Pakistani would have cut my throat. His presence of mind that night in picking up the knife was key to the police busting the entire family on their fake passport scam. He does things differently from the rest of us.’

  ‘Aye, too bloody right he does – like throwing people down stairwells, and shooting folk.’

  ‘That was self-defence. It was them or us.’

  ‘So what’s he doing here?’

  ‘He’s going to a friend’s wedding. But I’d like to involve him in this.’ Rosie rubbed her face with her hands. ‘Look, I don’t have a plan yet, but I want to have a chat with him and a think. I’m really not keen to hand Tadi over to the cops right now.’

  McGuire stood looking at her for a moment, then pushed out a sigh.

  ‘Okay. Here’s the deal, Gilmour. I’m going to pretend you haven’t told me this, and actually, I’m surprised you have told me. Normally I’m the fucking last to know what you’re planning. But I want you to go out of here and take a deep breath. Think very carefully what you’re going to do. You haven’t got a lot of time, so if you want to get the cops involved and get the guy’s wife out of wherever the hell she is, then do it now. If you have another plan it’s up to you. So make your mind up fast. Talk to the big Bosnian – but don’t do anything stupid.’

  ‘Of course not.’ Rosie went towards the door. ‘I’ll call you as soon as I know what’s happening.’

  ‘Aye, sure. I won’t hold my breath.’

  They left his office together – the editor walked to the back bench, and she headed downstairs to the canteen, phoning Adrian’s mobile as she went.

  *

  Rosie took Tadi to a cafe in Charing Cross where she’d arranged to meet Adrian. She’d told Matt to keep his mobile on. He had already taken a picture of the photograph from the robbery, and a very quick picture of Tadi – so they had something in the bag, given nobody knew what was going to happen next. Tadi was growing more nervous by the minute. On the way to the cafe she explained that they were meeting an old friend of hers from Bosnia, whom she’d met a few years ago when he needed her help. He could trust him, she told him. But what about Ava and my son? Tadi had pleaded. We have to try and make a plan, Rosie told him. We cannot afford to make any mistakes. Rosie watched the door of the cafe, waiting for Adrian to appear, her insides a mix of nerves and excitement, but also worry that she had a huge responsibility, which was growing the longer the clock ticked. She’d explained the basics of Tadi’s story to Adrian on the phone, so he would at least know what to expect. The waitress came over and Rosie ordered tea for herself and coffee for Tadi. Then the door opened and there he was. He took a step inside and looked around, and Rosie knew that he’d spotted them straight away, but he was always suspicious and watching for the unexpected. It hadn’t occurred to Rosie that anyone could have followed them, but with Adrian, he was always ready. He walked across the room, his expression as deadpan as always, and it was only when she stood up and smiled at him that his lips stretched a little into what passed for a smile. But his eyes now meeting hers were soft and Rosie felt immediately safe and at home when he opened his arms and swept her into a hug. He kissed her on the cheek, and ran a hand over her hair.

  ‘Rosie. Good to see you.’

  He kissed her again, but not on the lips, and Rosie chastised herself that right at that moment she longed to feel the softness of his lips on hers. He briefly scanned her hair and face, then his eyes fell on Tadi. Adrian went towards the table, and sat next to him.

  ‘Hello,’ Adrian said, as he sat down.

  Tadi looked at him.

  ‘Hello. I am Tadi.’

  Adrian nodded.

  ‘From Kosovo.’

  Adrian lapsed into Bosnian and Tadi’s eyes lit up, as they spoke for a moment, then returned to English. ‘Where in Kosovo are you from?’

  ‘Near Pristina. Twelve kilometres.’

  Adrian nodded. ‘I know it. You speak good English?’

  ‘OK. I have been here for over a year. I should be back home. I am illegal now.’

  Adrian nodded again, then turned to Rosie.

  ‘So, let’s talk about what to do next, my friend.’ He put an arm around Tadi’s shoulder. ‘Don’t worry. We must help you. Rosie will help you.’

  Tadi’s eyes showed his fear.

  ‘My . . . my wife. My son. I . . . I need to find them.’

  Adrian took a deep breath and turned to Rosie.

  ‘I know. Rosie, what are your thoughts?’

  Rosie explained the scenarios. Either he goes to the police now and puts his trust in them, confesses everything that has happened and hopes for the best, or he goes back to work tomorrow and pretends nothing has happened until they can work out what to do next.

  ‘I cannot go to police, Rosie. I . . .’ He glanced at Adrian. ‘Is okay if I say?’

  Rosie nodded.

  ‘I cannot go to police because they will put me in jail, then my wife . . . my son. No police. Please. Maybe I should just go.’ He looked stressed, and shifted as though he was getting to his feet.

  ‘It’s okay, Tadi. I understand. If you don’t want to, then we won’t. Don’t worry, my friend. We can think of something,’ Adrian said. ‘You know if it’s a flat or house she is in? What kind of place? Did you see the people in it?’

  ‘No. I was only outside. I think a flat, in a house. Some people went in and out. I talked to one girl, maybe Russian or from Eastern Europe and when I told her I am looking for my wife and her name is Ava, the girl is very frightened. She tell me to go away. So I think Ava is in there. But I don’t know. I think it must be dangerous.’

  Adrian shrugged and glanced at Rosie.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Rosie hoped she’d made the right decision, but even as they crossed the Jamaica Bridge and headed for Kinning Park, she was still not sure. Trust your gut instinct, she told herself, pushing away the niggle. She faced two choices. If she turned Tadi over to the police – which she knew she should do – things would be out of her control. She’d have betrayed his trust and he would be dragged into custody – and his wife and kid would still be missing. She decided to let Adrian do it his way, which also meant she would lose a lot of control, but he had convinced her that if Tadi’s wife and son were in the flat, then he would get them out. She had no reason to doubt him – he had never let her down – even though some of his methods in the past had included a body count. They had convinced Tadi that it was best if he stayed at Adrian’s friend’s house in Maryhill, where he would be safe. He was in no shape mentally or physically to handle any more stress.

  Rosie pulled down the visor and looked at Adrian in the rear-view mirror as he stared out of the window. His lean face was pale, with the same dark shadows under his eyes Rosie had seen the first day she met him. It was always hard to tell what was going on behind those eyes.

  ‘This is well dodgy, Rosie,’ Matt said from the driving seat. ‘Have you told McGuire?’

  Rosie gave him a sideways glance. ‘No. He told me earlier it was up to me how to handle it, so I don’t see the point of telling him every move. He’d only pull back anyway.’

  ‘Do we even know who’s in this house? Is it a brothel or something?’

  ‘I honestly don’t know. I can’t imagine why they’d keep her in a flat for any other reason. Maybe this is just where she lives, and she works elsewhere. She hasn’t said much to Tadi about what she does – says it was just housework and cooking for some workers.’

  ‘Do you believe that?’

  ‘No.’ Rosie checked her notebook. ‘Round here, Matt. This is the stree
t. Drive slowly. Try to park outside.’

  They pulled up and managed to get a parking space a few feet along from the front door. Rosie gathered her bag over her shoulder.

  ‘You ready, Adrian?’ She turned around.

  Adrian nodded. He pulled on his khaki jacket, more like an old army jacket, made of heavy cotton with various pockets. Rosie looked at Matt, and she knew they were thinking the same thing – what was in his pockets?

  ‘Okay, good luck, Rosie. But seriously, if there’s any hint of shit flying around, get back out here pronto. I’m keeping the engine running.’ He managed a smile. ‘It reminds me a bit of when we went to that wee pervert’s house in Morocco and Adrian came out with him kicking and screaming under his arm.’ He paused. ‘And look what happened to him . . .’

  Rosie half smiled at the memory, even though it ended with the pervert in the bottom of a disused well in the middle of nowhere. Rough justice. That was how Adrian did business.

  ‘Well, let’s hope the only thing he’s got under his arm this time is that wee kid.’ She opened the door. ‘Don’t go away, pet.’

  Rosie glanced up at Adrian as they climbed the steps to the front door of the flats. She pressed a couple of the intercom buzzers in the hope that someone would let them in without identifying themselves, rather than buzz the actual flat, as they would no doubt ask who it was. A few seconds later, the door buzzed open.

  As they climbed the stairs to the second floor, Rosie could feel her heart beating faster, and her mouth was dry. The plan was to be quick – Adrian said the surprise would catch everyone off guard.

  ‘You okay, Rosie?’ Adrian squeezed her shoulder as they got to the door.

  ‘Yeah.’ She grimaced, taking a breath. ‘I hope so.’

  She rang the bell, with Adrian standing to the side and out of sight, his back tight against the wall. She stood for a moment, feeling the sweat on her hands, and trying to swallow. A few moments later she could hear footsteps on a wooden floor and she glanced up at Adrian.