by M A Comley
“I’d tell you to sit down, but I wouldn’t want ya getting too comfortable.” The woman grinned and showed off a mouthful of blackened teeth.
“Hopefully, we won’t keep you long. If you can just tell us what you saw.”
The woman collapsed into the threadbare couch and stared at him while she reached for another cigarette, then lit it. “It was awful, just awful. Everything went quiet, and you know ’round here, when the silence comes, trouble’s never far behind.”
“I see,” Hero said, turning to Julie and motioning for her to take notes.
Julie withdrew her notebook from her pocket and flipped it open at an empty page. “Go on.”
The woman puffed hard on her cigarette until the end glowed red. She exhaled a large smoke-filled breath before she went on. “This car pulled up, and four hoodlums got out. I could tell they were going to be trouble the instant I laid eyes on them.”
“Have you ever seen these men around here before?”
“Men? Did I say men? I wouldn’t call ’em men, especially after what they did. No, my description of them was pretty accurate. Hoodlums.”
“Sorry. What sort of age are we talking about?”
The woman’s eyes creased up as she thought. “No more than nineteen, I guess.”
Hero nodded while Shaw scribbled away in her notebook. “And have you seen these boys around here before?” he repeated.
“Nope, can’t say I have. I’ve seen others like them, but I didn’t recognise this motley crew.”
“Others? Are you talking about other gangs?”
“Yeah, we get them all the time. The Tidy Gang seem to attract other gangs to the area, like bees to the honeypot. Anyway, I was watering my plants on the balcony, and I saw or rather heard this car draw up. Tommy Jones turned on his heels and ran to warn the other gang members.” She pointed at the corner of the building opposite. “There’s usually one of the gang members keeping that spot warm, on the lookout for trouble. Within minutes, the Tidy Gang were in position. We see it so many times around here. Usually, there’s a fight and a lot of shouting for half an hour or so before the visiting gang retreats. The Tidy Gang aren’t pushovers, ya see. They’re tough, hard as nails. They’ve got the scars to prove it, too.”
“When did you call the police?” Hero asked, wrinkling his nose at the smell of smoke that had somehow managed to disguise all the other smells in the room.
“When it was all over and the other gang had gone.”
“Why? Why not call them when you saw the gang arrive?”
The woman’s mouth dropped open for an instant, then she snorted. “You’re fucking kidding me, ain’t ya? Your lot don’t care what happens to the likes of this estate. The first thing the girl I spoke to asked was if the crime was gang related. I lied and said it wasn’t. I knew your lot wouldn’t bloody show up if I told the truth. Your lot give this estate a wide berth that’s no fucking help to us residents.” Anger caused the colour to flood into her cheeks.
Hero looked away from the woman, embarrassed that she was right. People shouldn’t have to live on estates run by gangs, afraid to walk in their own neighbourhoods for fear of being ridiculed or robbed every time they stepped outside their homes. “I’m sorry. We’re doing our best to combat the situation.”
“Sure you are, in your dreams. We ain’t seen a bobby on the beat around here in years. I thought the government said that community bobbies were going to be walking the streets again, getting to know their communities once more. Bullshit! It’s all frigging bullshit. They should have a fucking woman running this country. We never had this type of shit when Maggie Thatcher ruled Number Ten.”
Hero grinned, not because of how the woman was getting on her soapbox about putting the wrongs in the country right, but the fact that she was correct. Sometimes it did take a woman at the top to properly sort things out. “Mind if we get on with what happened next?”
The woman scowled at him and sighed heavily. “There was like a standoff for a second or two as the gangs met. Then a guy who looked like the leader from the other gang said something, which narked little Ken. He ran at the bloke. The bloke knifed his face, and when Ken went down on the ground, one of the other guys poured a can of something over Ken’s head. I watched in horror as he struck a match and Ken went up in flames.”
“Shit! Did anyone try to help him?”
“Nope. The Tidy Gang just stood there, gawping at Ken, who was understandably crying out in bloody pain. Eventually, he dropped to the road, and that’s when both gangs walked away.”
“I can’t believe his gang members didn’t try to help him,” Julie said quietly.
Hero shook his head slowly. “No, neither can I.”
“I’ll tell you one thing, the Tidy Gang are hard nuts, but even they seemed scared of this other gang.”
“I’m not surprised if they carry out stuff like that. Can you give me an address for any of the Tidy Gang members? Maybe we should have a chat with them,” Hero asked, but he already had an inkling what the woman’s answer was going to be.
“There’d be no point. You wouldn’t get near the place. I’ve seen it happen many times before. Coppers turn up here to arrest one of them, and someone drops a petrol bomb from one of the flats above aimed at the coppers. That’s why your lot refuse to police the area, and yet the bloody council won’t consider rehousing the likes of me. You lot are scared of these gangs, and no one gives a flying fuck what happens to the residents living with these menacing toerags on their doorstep.”
“Fair point. Can you give me some names, at least?” Hero felt his frustrations mounting.
“Why? I’m not sure I see why you want the Tidy Gang’s names. For once, they were innocent in all this. Have you not heard a word I’ve said?” The woman stood up and started up the hallway. Hero and Julie left the room after her. She yanked open the front door and glared at the two detectives. “I think you’d better leave. Good luck finding the culprits. You’re gonna fucking need it.”
The second Hero and Julie stepped over the threshold, the door slammed shut behind them.
“Oops! I think you upset her, sir.”
“Less of the wisecracks, Shaw. I think we better heed her advice and head out of here and get back to the station.”
It was almost three by the time they got back to the station. No sooner had they stepped into the incident room than Jason Coltman, the newbie detective on the team, approached them. Hero could tell by the concern written on the twenty-one-year-old’s face that he wasn’t going to like the news. He drew in a large breath to prepare himself. “What is it, Coltman?”
The detective handed Hero a newspaper. “There’s an article on page five that will interest you, sir.”
Hero groaned as he ripped open the paper and searched for the article. He didn’t need long to figure out which article Coltman was referring to. Slap bang in the centre of the page was a disturbing picture of two graves with the headline: “Mown down in cold blood. Police not interested.” Fuck, fuck, fuck!
He slumped onto the nearest desk and quickly scanned Dave Wheeler’s article. Damn! The bloody man had done an excellent job of putting down the police for their shoddy work on the case thus far. Give us a break, mate. These things take time to sort out. Towards the end of the article, Wheeler had stated the name of the gang who had carried out the murders and the estate that they ruled. Shit!
Hero jumped up and stormed through the unusually subdued incident room and into his office. He flung off his jacket and threw it on his desk. Then he picked up the phone and aggressively punched in a number.
“Dave Wheeler, it’s an emergency.”
“Just one moment, sir,” the girl on the other end of the phone told him. She came back on the line. “You’re through.”
“Wheeler?”
“Yes, who’s calling?” The journalist sounded uncertain, and Hero couldn’t help but feel triumphant at that. He had no idea the trouble he’d just created for himself by running
such a foolish article.
“It’s DI Nelson. We met at the Hartleys’ funeral last week.”
Wheeler let out a breath he’d been holding in. “Ah, that’s right. How are you this fine day, Inspector?”
“Pissed off, if you must know, Wheeler,” Hero hissed at him.
When the journalist laughed, Hero’s hand clenched the phone tighter.
“I had a feeling you wouldn’t be too happy about the piece.”
“Forgive my language here, Wheeler, but you’re a, class-A dickhead for running that story the way you have. I’m not against you running it as such, but you named the gang for fuck’s sake. I hope you have twenty-four-hour security at your house, ’cause you’re going to need it once the Krull Gang hear about this.”
The man’s silence spoke volumes. The thought that the gang might come after him apparently hadn’t occurred to him.
“Are you there, Wheeler?” Hero pressed angrily.
The buoyancy had disappeared from Wheeler’s tone when he responded. “Yeah, I’m here. Hey, the article was supposed to be getting at you lot. I guess I was blinded by that and forgot the other side of the coin.”
“Like I said, you’re a fucking dickhead. Oh, and by the way, when the Krull Gang come and hunt you down don’t—I repeat don’t—expect us to come to your aid.” Hero cringed when he shouted the words and hung up. Maybe that was a tad too harsh.
The phone rang immediately after he dropped it back into the docking station. He snatched it back up and said abruptly, “Yes?”
“Bad day at the office, DI Nelson?” Cranwell, the Detective Chief Inspector, snapped back.
“Sorry, Chief. You could say that.” His mouth twisted, and he shook his head in annoyance.
“My office. Now. Your day is about to get even worse.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll be there in a jiffy.”
“If not sooner,” the chief’s voice boomed down the line before it went dead.
“The chief’s not wrong about this day getting worse,” he mumbled as he stormed through the incident room and up the two flights of stairs to his boss’s office. Cranwell’s PA, a pretty petite brunette, almost had a heart attack when he burst through the door.
“Oh my giddy aunt, Inspector. I’ll tell the chief you’re here, if you’d care to take a seat.”
Hero gave her a false smile and started to pace around the room until she returned. She held the door open and invited Hero through. “The chief will see you now, Inspector.”
Hero squeezed past the PA and walked into the tired, dreary-coloured room that was twice, maybe three times, the size of his own crappy office. He walked up to the desk and waited for the chief to acknowledge his presence before he sat down.
With an expectant look, the chief looked up from the paperwork he was studying. The evening paper was folded up near his elbow. Hero dropped into the chair, his gaze glued to his boss’s angry face. He knew exactly what was coming.
“Well?”
Hero put on his best poker face and hitched up a shoulder slightly. “Sir?”
The chief snatched up the newspaper and threw it across the table at Hero.
He gulped noisily. “Ah, you’re talking about the article, sir.”
“Cut the crap, Inspector. This station has been under investigation for too many failed cases as it is lately. Now this. What in God’s name is going on?”
Hero picked up the paper and turned to the article in question. “The thing is, sir, the reporter is a friend of Rupert Hartley. There was little I could do about it, not that I knew he was going ahead with the article. Had I known that, I would have at least dissuaded him against naming the gang.”
“I’m confused. How did he obtain the name of the gang, and more to the point, why has this gang not been arrested yet?”
Hero inhaled deeply and placed the paper back down on the polished desk in front of him. “These things take time, sir. The CPS keeps going on at us about arresting people when we don’t have enough evidence against them. I just thought I would make sure we dotted all the i’s on this one.”
He sniffed the air and said, “That’s bullshit, and you know it. What’s the real story, Inspector? And make it quick. I have a meeting with the commissioner about this case in half an hour.”
“Damn! Really, sir? Okay, here’s where we’re at, my partner and I went out to the estate where the suspects—and that’s all they are at this point, sir—where the suspects hang out. We were just about to get out of the car when the gang attacked the vehicle. We drove away from there ASAP. This morning, we got a call about a suspected suicide on another estate, which is controlled by another gang on the other side of Manchester. It turns out that one of the gang members was set alight. I’m thinking it’s gang related and the Krull Gang are to blame. Again, I’m trying to find some evidence to back up my theory.”
“And in the meantime, this gang is creating havoc in and around Manchester.”
“With respect, sir, the gang’s territory has been earmarked as a police no-go area. That’s hardly my fault, is it?” Hero puffed out his chest as he spoke.
“Maybe not, but what do you plan on doing about it, Inspector?”
“Er… call in the reinforcements if I have to, sir.”
“I’m not with you.”
Hero raised an eyebrow. “With your permission, sir, I was thinking about going in there heavy handed with an armed response team.”
The chief leaned back in his chair, steepled his fingers together, and placed them against his chin. He bounced a few times before he let out a tortured laugh. “Is that really necessary, Inspector? We’re talking about a few youths here.”
Hero couldn’t help wondering what kind of rosy-coloured world the chief lived in. “Youths with ASBOs to their name, sir, and sitting tight in a police no-go area. If we can get around that, we’ll be laughing. Hence my thinking behind calling in the armed police. This gang don’t give a damn, sir. They just set a guy alight and mowed down a mother and son for Christ’s sake,” Hero stated frustratedly, much to the chief’s horror.
“I’m not liking your tone, Inspector. If you’re struggling with your role, now’s the time to speak up.”
“Sorry, sir. I’m frustrated, that’s all. We’re getting more and more of these no-go areas popping up. If you can give me a solution as to how we can combat these gangs, then I’ll willingly listen. At the moment, if we go within twenty feet of these estates, as unarmed police, we’re liable to be petrol bombed or something similar.”
“Another point to raise with the commissioner when I see him. Well, do your best until we come up with an adequate solution. Keep searching for ways we can pick up the gang separately, maybe?” the chief said as Hero rose from his seat.
“I’ll do my best, as always, sir. I’ll keep you informed. Good luck with your meeting.”
Hero left the office and sauntered back to the incident room, shaking his head as he walked. Why don’t I have a regular nine-to-five job with less responsibility? Boy, did I miss that training exercise at the weekend. The TA somehow managed to balance out his life and put things back into perspective when it had a habit of going off at a tangent and gathering speed as it precariously ran out of control. Still, a couple of pints after work should wipe out the day’s frustrations.
He opened the door to the incident room and called out, “Who’s up for a session after work?”
The usual candidates shouted back that they were up for it, and one of the voices surprised him. Julie Shaw usually steered clear of the after-work bevvies. I guess her frustrations match mine.
Chapter 7
The woman stood on the street corner, just out of sight of the girls who generally worked there. The streetlight flickered its final breath then plunged the area into virtual darkness. The woman shuddered as the evening chill seeped through her flimsy clothes. This was all new to her—her first night out “on the game”. She turned her head and listened. In the distance, a group of girls laughed, and thei
r voices were loud as they shouted a conversation. The woman pulled the strap of her handbag over her shoulder and moved towards the voices. Poking her head around the next corner, she saw two girls on one side of the road and three girls on the other. The shouting ceased when two cars pulled up between them.
Two men got out of the first vehicle. One of the girls took flight and tried to run from them, but she turned an ankle in her stiletto heels and fell in a heap on the pavement. With one man on either side of her, they roughly pulled her to her feet and slung her back against the brick wall. The girl cried out in pain and shouted, “Don’t hurt me, please. I’ve got your money… Here, look.”
One of the men ripped her small glittery evening bag from her shaking hands and tore it open. With a satisfied grin, he withdrew a handful of notes and stuffed them in the pocket of his jeans. Then he punched the girl in the stomach, and she fell to the ground again. The men strolled nonchalantly back to their vehicle, laughing as they went. They got back in their car, but not before one of them shouted a warning to the other girls in the vicinity.
“That’s what happens when you try to double-cross the Krull Gang. No more, right?” He glared at the girls until he received the answer he was looking for. A resounding yes came from all the girls’ lips as they rubbed their hands together against the chill of the night, which had increased over the last few minutes because of what had happened to one of their own.
The men got in the car, and both cars sped away, screeching their wheels as they disappeared around the first corner.
The girls ran to help their companion to her feet. The woman who’d been watching the events unfold with interest and subsequent horror stepped out of the shadows and went towards the group.
