THEN SHE RAN an absolutely gripping crime thriller with a massive twist

by Charlie Gallagher

  ‘The fuck you doing in my house? The fuck you doing?’ Yarney took huge gulps of air as if he was trying to quell his own panic.

  ‘Nicholas, are you alone? Before I start speaking?’

  ‘What? Yes, I’m alone. But I’m the one with the knife, yeah? So don’t think that means nothing.’

  ‘I didn’t mean it like that. I’m a copper, okay? A police officer. I’m not here to hurt you, but I can’t talk to you if there are other people about. I don’t want to put you at risk.’

  ‘The fuck you don’t! What you doing kicking my door down? You can’t be doing that!’

  ‘You’re right, Nicholas. You’re right. I shouldn’t be here. I didn’t really think this through. I got a mate back at the nick. He says you might know something that could help me — something I need to know. I got desperate, okay? I didn’t think it through and I fucked up. But I do need to talk to you.’

  ‘Talk to me? About what?’

  ‘The shooting. There was a shooting up near Canterbury. Someone died. You might know something about who was there — about who did it.’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  George’s frustration came rushing back, replacing the shock that had come in the wake of his earlier rashness. His voice found force. ‘You do. I know you do. I don’t have time for games. I don’t have time to wait for you to come out of your house so I can make a story about why I’m talking to you. I don’t have time to make it look like it was a coincidence that you phoned your handler this morning with some information and I’m at your door a few hours later asking for more.’

  ‘At my door? You kicked your way through it, way I see it!’ He lowered the knife a little; the body language was changing slowly. He was recovering from the shock maybe. He didn’t seem so on edge.

  ‘Yeah, I did.’

  ‘You got no right.’

  ‘I don’t.’

  ‘I want your name and number. I ain’t having this. I could make a big complaint — maybe get some compensation money.’

  ‘Put the knife down at least. I’m no threat, Nicholas. That’s not why I’m here.’

  ‘I’d rather keep it. Your name and number and then you can get out.’

  ‘You can have it, but I’m not giving you anything here. You’ll get it back at the police station.’

  ‘Police sta . . . what are you talking about? I ain’t going to no police station.’

  ‘You’re under arrest for possession of class A — heroin. You do not have to say anything but it m—’

  ‘What you talking about? Heroin?’

  ‘That’s what you’ve been out for this morning, Nicholas. That’s what you’re holding onto for dear life in your left pocket. Am I right? Do I need to take you down the nick? How much did you get? A couple of wraps? It’s hardly worth it for that, is it? Be clever. Talk to me. Tell me what you know and I’ll leave you with your score.’

  ‘You forgetting who’s got the knife?’

  ‘You might as well put that down now, Nicholas. You’re not going to use it. Right now you’ve got a wrap of heroin in your pocket and a copper in your kitchen. Maybe I shouldn’t be here, but you do anything with the knife and all that will be forgotten. You’ll go to prison. If you were going to do anything with it you would have done it already. I just want to talk.’ George swallowed. He knew he had to stand firm to back up his bluff.

  ‘I don’t got nothing to talk about.’

  ‘I know who you are, Nicholas. I know you’re connected with people in Dover that are of interest to us. And I know that you might have heard some rumblings about my shooting up near Canterbury. Listen, I went up there. I saw what some piece of shit left behind. If you can help, you should. Trust me on that. This is not someone who deserves your protection.’

  ‘What you saying? That I should be all moral and help you lot out? I don’t know how much you think you know about me but the moral angle? That ain’t the right one. I lost my morals a long time ago and I got no intention of getting them back to be honest. The world’s shit. You gotta be shit to survive. Or at least you gotta be paid.’

  George reached slowly for his back pocket. Nicholas tensed his right arm up, but didn’t try to stop him. George kept his movements smooth as he pulled out a leather wallet. He flipped it open to reveal his police badge and then pulled out two twenties. He dropped one of them on the kitchen bench.

  ‘Twenty quid? That ain’t even going to get my door repaired.’

  ‘I’ll sort the door. My mate tells me that twenty quid normally does it.’

  ‘You don’t look like you’re in a position to barter with me, man.’

  ‘Call it a starter. If you tell me something I don’t already know or something I need, you can have the other one.’

  ‘I don’t even know much.’

  ‘Then it’s easy money, right?’

  Yarney’s right hand finally dropped to his side. His grip on the knife was looser. He didn’t drop it, but George could cope with that. He moved his badge back towards his rear trouser pocket.

  ‘Hands where I can see them, yeah? I been gassed before. That’s some horrible shit you lot use.’

  George put his hands back out. He pushed his badge into his coat pocket instead.

  ‘I’m not here to gas you. Jesus, Nicholas! Just tell me what you know.’

  ‘I know about this gang. They run the scene in Dover right now. It changes around, you know, but they’ve been running it for six months. This fella who I was telling your mate about . . . he came down here just a few weeks ago. He was with some crew who go out doing rich people, you know? Out in the country, like. They see a mansion and they go in hard and get what they want. They’re not from here. They’re into their coke — all of them, probably. I think they move some about too. There are, like, four of them. They’ve been down here just a couple of weeks but they’re big spenders. They got a reputation straight away. That happens when you get a new Billy Big-Bollocks in a small town like this. Then I hear they got the hump with one of the lads on the crew. They all fell out. I don’t know what it was about exactly but I think he owed them all money or something. It’s always about the money, right?’

  George hummed some listening sounds. He didn’t want to interrupt Yarney’s flow.

  ‘So apparently they’re all here because this fella who they’ve got the hump with, he knows a place with cash stashed up. A lot of cash, yeah? Like a career job or summin’ that should at least keep them in lines of charlie for a little while. Whatever. The job goes bent. I guess that’s the shooting you’re talking about. These boys, they don’t do guns. They seemed switched on. They didn’t want the attention that comes with it.’

  ‘How did he know though? About there being money at the place? You can’t even see it from the road.’

  ‘He knew him — the old fucker there.’

  ‘Knew him? You sure?’

  ‘Stan, right?’ Yarney said. George must have reacted and Yarney noticed. ‘It is Stan! So you know I ain’t giving you no shit. It’s amazing what these boys will talk about when they’re off their face on coke. “Stan the man,” they said. “Stan the man with a hundred grand!”‘

  ‘How did they know him?’

  ‘Not all of them did. At least that’s the impression I got. Just the lad they had the hump with. Some of them were pissed at being away from home. I think they travel around a bit but they clearly didn’t trust this lad.’

  ‘So, the lad they fell out with — did he fire the gun?’

  ‘I don’t know that much. I haven’t really talked to anyone since the job. I got to hear a few bits late last night, like — that a gun was involved, that it went bent. I knew it would be stuff you lot wanted so I told your man that I was hearing things. I said I would keep my ears out. He told me what he always does — said not to put myself in harm’s way and to let him know what I heard. He said he would come back to me later in the week. He never said nothing about no out of control suit coming down here
an’ kicking my door in.’

  ‘I guess he didn’t. To be fair he couldn’t have known. The problem we’ve got with this sort of thing is that we can’t be waiting until the end of the week. I need to be doing what I can.’

  ‘I can’t help you no more.’

  ‘You don’t know where they were staying?’

  Yarney looked away and his eyes fell to the floor. There was just a moment of hesitation. ‘I don’t, man. I don’t know that much.’

  George stepped in a little closer. ‘It doesn’t come from you, anything you tell me. We have ways of taking action without anyone ever knowing where the information came from. Think about it . . . if they were off their heads and talking and you know where these people are or where they’ve been, so do a lot of other people. Is that right? Do a lot of people know where they are?’

  ‘It was just one of the lads, he was the mouthy one. The lad they all fell out with. The guy who picked out the job. He was in Dover. In a hotel. He didn’t stay with the rest because he had a missus and a kid. They left him to it and they went off somewhere else.’

  ‘What hotel?’

  ‘Fuck man, I don’t know these people. I don’t like telling tales about people if I don’t know what they’re capable of.’

  ‘It doesn’t come back to you. You have my word.’

  ‘A man comes to my gaff, kicks my door in, threatens to nick me and then offers me his word. What do you think that means to me?’

  ‘Fine then. The hotel name for the other twenty.’

  ‘Forty quid ain’t no good to me six foot under now is it?’

  ‘So make sure you spend it quickly.’

  Yarney’s face creased into a sort of smile. He threw the knife into an overflowing sink. ‘Opposite the train station — the entrance, like. That’s all I know. He didn’t say no name. I don’t reckon he knew it himself. I don’t know nothing else. I don’t know room numbers or names or anything.’

  George dropped the rest of the money hurriedly on the bench. Then turned quickly down the hall and back towards the front door.

  ‘What are you gonna do about my door?’ Yarney called after him.

  ‘I’ll make some calls!’ George called back. It was hanging from a hinge as he stepped through it.

  ‘He won’t still be there! At the hotel, I mean! You get yourself involved in something like that and you’re long gone, ain’t ya?’

  George didn’t reply. He was already out. He made it back to his car, flushed, hot and bothered. He ditched his jacket on the back seat and ran a quick search on his phone. There was only one real option: the Dovorian Hotel. It looked to be almost opposite the entrance to the station. It was within a mile. He wanted to jump in his car and go to see Stan. He was the key to all of this, he must know the name of at least one of the gang that were at his house, even if he didn’t realise it himself. He would go to the hotel first. He might even get lucky; maybe they were still booked in there. He was damned certain he wouldn’t be there anymore — more likely he’d left in a hurry when it all went wrong. But people in a hurry made mistakes. They left things behind.

  Stan could wait.

  Chapter 19

  Jenny had gotten dressed as quickly as she could and wasn’t properly dry. The clothes stuck to her back and thighs, but at least they were her clothes. Whereas she’d felt wrapped up and safe in the warmth of the shower, she’d felt very exposed and vulnerable dressing in front of her captor. He was leaning back on the wooden unit again, the gun still hanging loose in his right hand. She was closer to him now, close enough to take in his features. She hadn’t dared before. He had a slim, wiry build and broad shoulders that tapered to a slim waist. His hair was dark and thinning in patches and he’d shaved it close to his scalp. His eyes were deep and dark and played their part in a face that showed no changes in emotion. He had a coldness about him, and though he was no longer pointing the weapon at her, she felt no less fear. He looked her up and down.

  ‘You need to dry that hair. We need to blend in.’

  Jenny’s frizzy, damp hair fell over her face. She pulled a strand taut over her eyes. ‘I didn’t think I had the time,’ she said.

  He checked his watch. ‘You have two minutes yet.’

  * * *

  George took in the façade of the Dovorian Hotel. It was grey, flat and had a layer of what looked like soot that was a darker shade at the bottom. The road that passed close to its front was getting busy with traffic. He crossed over and went through what looked like the main entrance on the south side. It had double wooden doors. Only one of them opened and it was heavy and cumbersome. A slim, blonde woman sat behind the desk. She stood up when he entered.

  ‘Welcome to the Dovorian Hotel, sir.’ Her accent was subtle, Polish perhaps.

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Do you wish to check in today, sir?’

  ‘No. Thank you.’ George felt in his pocket for his badge. He cursed. He’d put it back in his coat pocket after flashing it at Yarney. The coat was lying on the back seat of the car. ‘I, er . . .’ George patted down his other pockets. He had a pass that hung around his neck when he was at the police station; it had his picture on it and it doubled as access through the doors. He snatched it out and showed it to the receptionist. He hooked the lanyard over his neck. ‘Inspector George Elms. I’m a police officer based in Langthorne. I wondered if you could answer a few questions for me? I’m looking for some information about someone who might have stayed here.’

  The woman looked a little uneasy. ‘Inspector?’ She was still looking at the pass that rested against his tie.

  ‘Oh!’ He snatched it up. ‘Yes, it’s a recent thing. This still says Sergeant, doesn’t it? My replacement’s in the post!’

  The woman laughed nervously. ‘Is there trouble here?’

  ‘Not at all.’

  ‘Is this about the other day? About the car?’

  ‘What happened the other day?’

  ‘There was a car, just outside. Someone shot a gun, I think. The police, they came in here and they asked me. I don’t know anything about this car.’

  ‘So you’ve already spoken to the police?’

  ‘Yes. This car. We do not park here. We do not take car details, you know. They asked if it was from here. I did not know this.’

  ‘I see. This isn’t about a car. Do you —or did you — have a couple staying here? They would have had a child with them. They might have been here a couple of weeks.’

  ‘Is this normal? To give information to you?’

  ‘Well, yes. There has been a rather serious incident. Away from here — I mean, there’s no suggestion this hotel has any part in it, but I’m trying to piece together what happened.’

  ‘And you are police inspector?’

  ‘I am.’ George stood firm. UK data protection laws were stringent if they were adhered to. The guest list in a hotel technically fell under these laws. George should have had the right form endorsed by the right person. He had never needed it before, but then this was the first time he had walked in anywhere without his usual confidence and without his correct ID. He knew that Sarah’s call still had him rattled.

  ‘Okay, so here is bookings.’ The woman clicked on a mouse and bent to look at something that George couldn’t see. She wrote on a piece of paper. ‘We have two families that have been here a little while. They come about same time. These are room numbers. I cannot tell you about them.’

  ‘Do you have their details? Their names at least?’

  ‘I cannot tell them to you. This is normal. We do not give information.’

  ‘But you’re happy to give me the room numbers and let me go and knock on their doors?’

  ‘If they choose to speak, they can speak. I cannot speak for them.’

  ‘So I need to come back with a form filled out? Is that not a waste of everyone’s time?’

  ‘And identification.’

  George was starting to get wound up but his anger towards her quickly dissipated. She wa
s probably still doubting whether he was a police officer at all. Her reluctance was his fault.

  ‘I shall have to go and introduce myself then. Have you seen either of them today?’

  ‘Not today. I had day off yesterday. I start, maybe one or two hours. I have number of the girl who worked the night?’

  ‘That’s okay. I’ll just go and knock on the door.’

  The woman looked at him again. She looked less certain — as if she might be changing her mind. She seemed to make a decision and she put the piece of paper on the counter. George swept it up.

  ‘Thanks for your help. I’ll just be a couple of minutes.’

  George inspected the paper. Both numbers started with a three. With his basic knowledge of hotels, he assumed this would mean they were on the third floor. He pressed to call the lift. His phone rang in his pocket. It was Sarah.

  ‘Sarah, hey.’ He stepped into the lift. The three walls that faced him were mirrored. He turned to face the closing doors.

  ‘What do you mean “hey”?’ She sounded instantly upset. ‘Why are you being like this?’

  ‘Like what?’ George suddenly caught up. He hadn’t replied to her message earlier. He hadn’t had a chance. ‘Oh, yeah, I saw your message. I know I didn’t reply. I was waiting until I could call you, so we could talk about it. You know I don’t like conversations by text message.’

  ‘So you can talk now?’

  ‘Not really, Sarah. I’m just out on some enquiries. When I’m away I’ll call you from the car.’

  ‘You know what? Don’t bother trying to fit me into your busy schedule. Any of us. I need to get this sorted out with you and Ronnie. For Charley’s sake and all—’

  ‘Don’t try and pretend this is anything to do with Charley. You’re doing this for you. This is all about you. If Charley’s acting out with this bloke then maybe she just doesn’t like him. There’s nothing I can do about that. Or maybe she wants her real family back together. Maybe that’s what’s best for Charley.’