THE GUILTY MAN an absolutely gripping crime mystery with a massive twist (Detectives Lennox & Wilde Thrillers Book 1)

by HELEN H. DURRANT

  “You okay?” he said, hurrying over to her.

  Kamal, if that’s who it was, had driven off at speed.

  “Kamal, my brother. The idiot thinks he owns me.” She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “But he doesn’t. I am my own woman. He has a lot to learn.”

  Harry nodded and led her towards his car. “I’ll just pop in and get my wallet. I thought a meal, a little wine? What do you think? Call it a chance to chat and get to know each other better.”

  The van was a tip, there was no way he could invite her in here. His wallet was on the seating unit, but he couldn’t find his mobile. Shifting a few things about, he eventually retrieved it from under a cushion. He’d missed a call from Martha. What did she want? He should ring her back, Martha wouldn’t ring unless she had a good reason. But a glance out of the window told him that Emira was getting restless. Martha would have to wait. He’d call her back later.

  * * *

  “I really did not expect you and me to be friends,” Emira began. They were seated at a corner table, a bottle of wine in front of them. “Especially since I coerced you into joining us. The candidates we select from your line of business are usually a little more . . . reticent.”

  Harry smiled back and took her hand. “You caught me at the perfect time. Don’t misunderstand me, I enjoy being a cop, but so far it has given me precious little, not even job satisfaction. My lot is late nights, weekends that don’t exist and an empty bank account. I was thinking about ways to put that little lot right, and suddenly, there you were.”

  Emira laughed, her dark eyes sparkling in the low lights of the restaurant. “Then we are not that different, me and you. I too have often wondered how to get out of my own situation. But, unlike you, I am not hiding a dark secret and I can’t be easily blackmailed.”

  Harry laughed. “Oh, it’s not that dark. And as for being easily blackmailed, what about your little secret? People trafficking is very much frowned upon in police circles.”

  “Your secret can do you more harm than mine can me, I think.” She gave him a sly smile. “Tell me, Harry, which of your colleagues know about you? I’m guessing none of them, and that is your weak point. It’s what has given us a way in.”

  Harry bristled, but forced a smile. She was right, but he had to steer the conversation back to her, away from him and his past. “You want out, you say. Why? You seem to have it all. You’ve got the police in your pocket, money, and you’re your own boss.”

  She laughed and shook her head. “That is not true. I have to do as I am told, just like you. But unlike you, I break the rules and I lose more than my job.”

  Harry understood what she was saying. She was afraid, he saw it in her dark eyes. “Sorry, I thought you were the one in charge.”

  “Well, I am not.”

  “But you know who is. Your brother?”

  That seemed to amuse her. “Kamal? Oh no. He is a mere minion. He does as he is told, and he’s terrified of getting it wrong. If he does, they will kill him.” She sipped her wine. “The people we work for count life cheap, Harry. Both Kamal and I have a lot to be scared of.”

  “I’ve seen some of their handiwork.” He grimaced. “How did you find out about me, and my, er, weakness?”

  “I was told. Not the details. Simply what to say should you prove difficult. I’m glad it worked. I would not like to see you get hurt, Harry Lennox.”

  “It was the name that made me curious. Aside from you, there’s only two other people that know about Paul.”

  “That’s enough,” she snapped. “You are trying to get information I am not allowed to give. I tell you about the people I work for and I will not live to see tomorrow. Anyway, you are wasting your time, I have no names to give. That is how our organisation works.” She looked away. “But know this. You must take care, the boss is a wicked man, a killer who makes use of any advantage that presents itself. I do not intend to be one of his victims, so you can stop this interrogation right now.”

  She obviously wasn’t going to tell him any more about the boss, so Harry decided to drop it. He changed the subject. “You did well today, you got things organised at the factory and the Baxendale pretty fast.”

  She smiled. “How do you say it, by the skin of our teeth. We, I, owe you for the information. Had those women been found, I would have been killed. They are valuable. One in particular is worth a fortune and I know there are special plans for her, and as I said, my boss doesn’t tolerate failure.”

  Harry nodded as if in understanding. So, Emira was every bit a prisoner as those women, except that her role was a little different. He wondered if she, too, had once been trafficked.

  “What did you do with them in the end?” he asked.

  She wagged a finger at him. “Uh-uh. You are very naughty. You know very well that I cannot tell you. You ask too many questions. Today has delayed proceedings, and I have to get things back on schedule fast. You can help with that. There are still policemen watching the houses and factory. You must remove them so that operations can resume.”

  Harry started to speak but his mobile buzzed. It was Martha Cassidy — again. “I’m sorry, Emira, I’ll have to get this.”

  “Can’t it wait?” he barked into the phone. “I’m in a meeting.”

  “No, it bloody can’t. You need to get your arse round to my yard. Someone’s dumped a container here and there’s a helluva lot of wailing and screaming coming from it.”

  Chapter Forty-five

  Harry glanced at Emira. That could mean only one thing — the women. They must have been put back in the container that brought them into the country to wait until it was all clear to return them to the houses. Why hadn’t Marcus Edge alerted him to their predicament? Harry got up and moved out of earshot of Emira.

  “Have you told anyone else?” he asked Martha.

  “No, but if you don’t do something, I will. I’ll be ringing the local cop shop.”

  She would too, and Harry didn’t blame her. Those poor women must be scared witless. “What are you doing working at this time of night?”

  “Never mind that, it’s a bloody good job I am. Those poor sods won’t last long without food and water and it’s freezing cold. There’s no heat in them things.”

  She was right. Harry must alert his colleagues and get those women freed at once. He looked across at Emira, toying with her wine glass. How could she allow this to happen? She had to know what had been done with them, and the inhumane conditions they were being kept in. Okay, she was tied to the gang, but still, the woman couldn’t have an ounce of humanity in her. She had sat here, happily wining and dining, having left those poor sods in the cold and dark wondering if they’d ever get out.

  Marcus Edge could stuff his undercover job. He’d failed to keep those women safe. He’d promised to have them watched, but he hadn’t. All that mattered to him was the operation and using him to get a name out of Emira.

  “I’ll sort it, Martha. We’ll get them out. It won’t be long.”

  He went back to the table and threw down fifty quid. “We’ve not eaten yet, that should cover the wine. Get yourself a taxi. I’ve got to go.”

  “Wait! Harry,” she called after him, “it’s still early, we have things to discuss . . .”

  But Harry was gone. Outside the restaurant, he got on his mobile and called the station. “Cassidy’s yard,” he told the duty sergeant. “Get a team round there and alert social services or whoever. There is a container there with a number of trafficked women in it. They’ll need taking somewhere secure and looking after.”

  Next, he rang Jess, who said she’d meet him there.

  * * *

  By the time Harry arrived at Martha’s yard, Martha and Caleb had forced the container doors open. The team from the station were there. The women, about twenty of them, were standing huddled together, looking terrified.

  “Some of them are young,” Jess confirmed. “A couple are no more than fifteen, I’d say. I haven’t heard much Engl
ish spoken, so it’s difficult to work out what happened.”

  “I can tell you.” A young woman came towards them. She had a blanket around her shoulders, her long blonde hair was straggly and she was frighteningly thin. “I’m Tracy Buckton. I was kidnapped about a year ago.”

  “Tracy!” Jess put an arm around her. “It’s okay, you don’t have to say anything yet. We’ll get you somewhere warm and safe, and you can talk to us in the morning when you’re rested.”

  “You must tell my dad I’m safe. He’ll be out of his mind with worry,” Tracy said. She sounded infinitely weary.

  “DI Lennox?” A woman approached and showed him her ID. “I’m Bernie Stafford from Social Services. I’ve arranged somewhere for them to go for tonight. Tomorrow, I’ll contact the appropriate agencies and we can go from there.”

  Harry nodded, and watched as the women were helped into several vehicles. “I want to know where they are at all times,” he said to Bernie. “I’ll arrange for them to be guarded. The people who took them are dangerous, they consider the women to be their property and will want them back.”

  “Here.” She handed him a card with an address on it. “Your men can follow us.”

  “Martha’s not so bad after all, is she?” Jess said, once everyone had dispersed.

  “No, she’s not. But she’s crossed some dangerous people. We need to ensure that she and her family are safe too.” He looked at Jess. “There will be repercussions from this. It’ll change things.”

  “What’re you talking about? We’ve got them back, we’ve done good.” Jess looked him up and down. “Oh. Did Martha disturb something? Date night was it?”

  “Something like that, but don’t jump to conclusions, it was work.”

  “What work, Lennox? And how come I didn’t know about it?”

  “Because I’m keeping you out of it for your own good.”

  He walked off. He needed to get back to the camper van as soon as. He had a bad feeling about what would happen next. It had been a relief to find the women and have them safe at last, but Emira’s people wouldn’t let things lie. They would demand their pound of flesh.

  Harry decided to find somewhere else to bed down for the time being. The van wasn’t secure, and he didn’t fancy having his throat slit in the middle of the night. He’d pack a few things and find a bed and breakfast. He was about to turn into Don’s drive when an explosion rocked the car. He saw flames leap into the night sky, and the camper van was suddenly a ball of flame.

  This was no accident. The fire had been meant for him.

  Chapter Forty-six

  The Bluebell Guest House had been good enough for Sandy, so Harry would try there. He had nothing but the clothes he stood up in, and those belonged to Don. First thing in the morning, he’d have no choice but to go and ask Anthea for his things back.

  “Will you want breakfast?” the receptionist asked him when he checked in.

  Harry nodded. Why not? After all, Sandy had recommended it. Once he was in his room, he took off his jacket and shoes and rang Marcus Edge. Fortunately, he’d had the burner phone in his car with him.

  “We have a problem,” Harry began, “and all because you didn’t do the job right. You said you’d keep an eye on those women, so what were they doing in that bloody container?”

  “Sorry, it wasn’t possible. These people are clever. They were taken away in several vehicles, driven all over the place, and we couldn’t keep track of them all. Your department isn’t the only one on a tight budget, you know.”

  A poor excuse. “You didn’t try, did you? This was another ploy to push Emira at me. Keep those women stashed away out of sight until I clear the watch on the factory and the houses, which would put me high on the list of Emira’s favourite people. Well, it didn’t work. Emira isn’t going to talk, she’s far too scared. You gained nothing from this, Edge, except to put those women at even more risk.”

  “The women weren’t in any danger, they were simply hidden. Like I told you, they’re too valuable to be harmed. My people did their best, Harry, but we don’t have unlimited resources. No one was more annoyed than me when I learned they’d lost them.”

  “Well, I don’t want anyone else putting in danger, is that clear?”

  “Perfectly, but the one currently in danger is you. Our friends won’t be happy about losing the women. They’ll blame you and they’ll want payment.”

  Harry chuckled. “Let them ask. I’ve nothing left to give. They’ve set fire to the camper van. I’m homeless and I have no belongings either, nothing.”

  Marcus Edge ignored that. “Did Emira tell you anything?”

  Hadn’t he listened to a word? All Edge seemed to care about was getting whoever was running this operation. “No, she clammed up. I don’t think she’ll ever talk. Don’t ask me to try and wear her down either, it would take for ever. The woman is as hard as stone. Those trafficked women were left in a container. Had we not freed them, god knows how long they’d have been there.”

  “You have to keep her onside, Harry. Emira won’t let this go. Walk away and she’ll talk. About you, Harry.”

  “She knows nothing. All she had was a few words she’d been given to use on me.”

  “The loss of those women will hurt. It’ll mean lost revenue and you will be blamed. Your position is compromised.”

  “What, as your spy?”

  “No, as a CID officer,” Edge said.

  “But that’s what I am.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “You trying to blackmail me too, Edge? You’re no better than them.”

  It was several seconds before Marcus spoke again. “If accusations are made there’ll be checks, and who knows how robust those will be. If the force want to find you out, they will.”

  Harry felt his stomach flip. He didn’t want this, but what could he do? “You’re probably right. Any suggestions?”

  “Try again. Ring her. Tell Emira a colleague found the container and you had no choice but to go along with it. Promise to help get the women back.”

  “I’m the DI in charge of the case. She’s an intelligent woman, I can’t see her buying that.”

  “Pour on the charm, Harry. They need you, remember.” Edge finished the call.

  Harry lay back on the bed, wondering if he was right. He closed his eyes. This wasn’t what he’d signed up for. Edge had no idea. Harry knew if he’d been in that camper van earlier, he’d have been fried.

  His mobile rang. “Yes?”

  “Harry, you are okay? You are not hurt?”

  It was Emira. So, she must know about the attempt on his life. “Checking up to see if I’m dead, are you?”

  “No, of course not. I had no idea what Kamal was up to.”

  “He tried very hard, believe me. A few minutes later and I’d have been toast.”

  “Kamal is angry about the women and blames you. He blames me too. He says I have treated you too leniently. He says you are a threat, can’t be trusted. He wants you dead, Harry.”

  Harry had put that much together himself. So much for them needing him. “And you? What d’you want, Emira?”

  “Like I told you, a way out. But if I speak to you, Kamal will kill me too.”

  Harry sat up. “But you’re his sister. He won’t harm you, surely?”

  “He has before. I have the scars to prove it.”

  “I’m sorry, I had no idea.”

  “Harry, we should help each other. That way, we can rid ourselves of this situation.”

  Was she on the level? “How do we manage that?”

  “Kamal wants to broker a deal. Give him back the women, he will let me go and give you money. Me too, so that we can build new lives.”

  “And if I refuse?”

  The line seemed to go dead, then he heard muffled sounds, followed by a scream. Emira.

  “You have been offered a way out, imbecile, now take it!” a rough male voice rasped at him. “Refuse and I will kill you. Her too.”

  Ka
mal! Harry had to offer him something. He didn’t want Emira harmed, so the quicker the two of them were brought in, the better. “Okay, what are your terms?”

  “You will tell me every move those women make. The authorities will speak to them, no doubt there will be hospital checks. The minute they leave your protection, you will tell me, and I will arrange to get my property back. I do not have long. Next week there will be another shipment.” He paused. “I will not stand for any further interference, do you understand? Tomorrow, I will give you one of my operatives. He will confess to the trafficking and you will close the case.”

  Harry agreed, to give himself time. He’d no idea how this was going to work. Apart from questioning the women, it was unlikely he’d have any say in what happened to them, or where they were taken. Kamal would have to be trapped and caught some other way.

  Chapter Forty-seven

  Day Nine

  Anthea stood on her doorstep, arms folded, her mouth pulled into a thin line. “Harry, if this is some ploy to wheedle your way back, you’re wasting your time. We’re done.”

  “I know. I’ve accepted that now,” he said. “But can I have my stuff, please? Some idiot set fire to the camper van I was living in, and I’ve got nothing left.” He saw the look of disbelief. “Don’s van,” he explained, “the one parked on his drive. That’s where I’ve been living these last weeks.”

  That expression was still there. She didn’t believe a word.

  “You look smart enough to me. Are you telling me the truth?”

  “These clothes are Don’s too. I had to go to a function last night, so I borrowed them off him.”

  “Okay, the stuff’s no use to me anyway. Everything belonging to you is in the shed. I’ll get you the key.”

  “Thanks, Anthea.”

  “I’ll open the side gate so you can come round. Make sure you clear the lot. I don’t want you coming back. We’re finished, Harry. Have you got that straight?”