He didn’t need telling twice, the look on her face was enough. Another relationship down the drain, but it was no more than he’d expected, and probably no more than he deserved. He’d never been there for her, and it wasn’t always down to the job. He’d often used the late hours as an excuse to get out of occasions involving Anthea’s family and friends that didn’t interest him. The break-up was his fault, no excuses. In fact, Anthea deserved a medal for putting up with him for so long.
There were three suitcases and a box of books, photos and stuff. Not much to show for his thirty-five years. But at least he had something to wear now. He piled it all in the boot of his car and made for the station.
During the drive, he thought about the case and tried to work out a plan. Kamal wanted the women back, but he couldn’t let that happen. If he made contact today, he’d have to find a way to keep him busy with something else.
“Marsh’s car has turned up,” Jess told him as soon as he entered the main office. “Not much help though, it was well burnt out. It was found on the spare ground at the back of the park. Forensics will take a look but there’s not a lot left.”
“How come it’s taken this long to find it?”
“Some of that area is dense woodland, it was in among the trees.”
“So, they made sure there was nothing left to help us.”
“And some.”
Harry could well imagine. It sounded like Kamal’s work, he was good at setting fires. “The camper van was set alight last night.”
Jess jumped to her feet and went to his side. “Are you all right? You’re not hurt or anything?”
“I’m fine, but only because I wasn’t in it at the time.”
“What happened? Was it an accident or what?” she asked.
“No, it was meant to kill me. I’ve upset someone — the traffickers I suspect. Rescuing those women sent someone over the edge.”
“We’ll interview them today, see what they can tell us. Most of them will require an interpreter, but Tracy will be okay. She’s a clever girl too. I had a few words with her this morning. She remembers a lot about what happened to them.”
“Names would be good,” Harry said, helping himself to coffee from the machine.
“Where did you sleep? Don’s?”
“Didn’t want to chance it in case they came back. I’ve done Don enough harm by getting the van trashed. I went to that bed and breakfast Sandy used. It’s okay, not too bad at all. And I got my stuff back off Anthea. I think she felt sorry for me.” He laughed.
“But you can’t stay in a B&B indefinitely, it’ll cost you a fortune.”
He sat down at his computer. “Don’t worry about me, Jessie, I’ll find somewhere.”
“Forensics have sent the report through regarding the oil on Marsh’s and Sutton’s hands,” she told him. “It’s a match for what we got from the ground at Shaw’s Haulage.”
“Fair enough, it’s as we thought. They must have fought with their attackers in the yard. They both had bruised knuckles, remember. Anything else?”
“Yes, and this is the bit I can’t get my head round. Hettie finally looked at the soles of those shoes of Lucy Green’s. There is a DNA match, so they were definitely hers.”
That was conclusive proof that Kelsey had known where her daughter was. She bought the shoes after she disappeared and they were the ones Lucy had on her feet when she was found. “Anything interesting?”
“She found traces of exactly the same oil as on Marsh and Sutton’s hands.”
Harry stared at her. “How can that be?”
“I’ve been trying to work that out for the last hour. Lucy must have been there. It’s not just the oil, there’s also traces of the stone that covers the parking area, and what we think is chicken feed of all things.”
“Chicken feed?”
“I’ve no idea, but do you remember that when we first met Lucy, she kept talking about a ‘Clara cluck-cluck?’ That could have been a chicken. Perhaps the people who took her kept chickens.”
Chapter Forty-eight
Tracy Buckton looked marginally better than she had the night before. Gone was the frightened, cowering girl but her face was still haggard and she was painfully thin. But she had regained a certain amount of confidence. Tracy wanted to help, to get justice for herself and the women she’d been imprisoned with.
“That was the first good night’s sleep I’ve had in ages. The best part was the quiet. There was no one crying.” She smiled. “For the first time in months, I can see a way forward.”
Harry beamed back at her. She was young, just twenty according to the files. And she was obviously bright. He had high hopes of Tracy. “What can you tell me about the men who took you?”
“The day I arrived in Istanbul a taxi dropped me off at the hotel. I was about to go inside and check in when a man stopped me. He said he worked for my dad and had come to tell me he’d been taken ill and needed me at home. The man offered to take me straight back to the airport.” She shook her head. “I was completely taken in. The only thing I could think about was dad being sick. I tried ringing home but got no response. The man said not to worry. Dad had been taken to hospital. I was about to call them, but the man said we had to hurry if we wanted to make the plane in time. I can’t believe I was taken in so easily.”
She was on the brink of tears. Jess offered her some water. “Take your time, Tracy. You’re doing great.”
“I got in his car and he drove out of the city. After that it all becomes a bit of a blur. He gave me a bottle of water, which must have been drugged. I have no idea how many different vehicles I was forced into, but it was a lot. Eventually, I found myself in a beat-up van with four other women.”
“Did you get to know anything about them?” Jess asked.
“Yes. They were young, like me, and western. One was French, the other two were from Spain. We seemed to travel for days before we arrived at a villa by a beach. I have no idea where it was, but it was a beautiful place, lavishly done out and very busy. People were coming and going all the time.”
“Why? What did they want from you?” Harry asked.
“That’s the thing, nothing much. We were given make-up, clothes and told to look pretty and mingle with the guests. The one stipulation, if we spoke about what had happened to us or asked for help, we’d be killed. I got nervous but nothing bad happened, none of the men came onto us. Whoever owned the villa threw a lot of parties and appeared to simply want some eye candy around. We were told to have a good time and not to worry, that as long as we kept our mouths shut, we were safe.” She put a hand up to her long hair. “At the time I reckoned it was being blonde that did it, but I was wrong. The other three girls who’d been travelling with me were also from wealthy families. They were keeping us safe while they negotiated the ransom.”
“Did you try to escape?” asked Jess.
“Yes, and that’s when I got this.” She rolled up the sleeve of the jumper she was wearing and showed them a long thin red scar. “A man called Kamal took a knife to me. Said if I tried to run again, it would be my throat next time.” She pulled a face. “That was my big mistake. I don’t mean running, my mistake was getting caught. The following day I was bundled into the van again and I think that’s when we left for Calais.”
“Was it a long journey?” Jess asked.
“Yes. We travelled for days. Me and one other girl who I didn’t know. She had no English and I had only a few words of Turkish.”
“So, the others were picked up in Calais?” Jess asked.
“I believe so, from the camps. One, a girl called Mina, had paid the traffickers a fortune, believing they’d take her to a cousin in London. Most of them had been told some fairy tale to keep them sweet.”
Harry shuddered. “Did you hear any other names, apart from Kamal?”
“I met his sister, Emira. From a conversation I overheard, I gleaned that the man who owned the villa was the boss of the operation in Europe. Kamal was terri
fied of him, I know that much.”
“Do you know what these people are into?” Harry asked.
“Trafficking, drugs, anything you care to mention. It’s a huge operation reaching right across the globe, and according to Kamal, obscenely profitable. The night of the party he got drunk, said too much and was more than happy to talk about the operation. I don’t know much about the hierarchy but from what I put together, the top man in Europe — the one with the villa — runs many smaller groups across the continent and in the UK. Because of my attempt to escape, I was labelled ‘trouble,’ which was why I ended up being shipped off to the man who runs the operation in the north of England.”
“The man with the villa, did you ever hear what his name was?” Harry leaned forward. If she could tell them that, it would be the major breakthrough they so badly needed.
“I only met him once. Everyone at the villa called him ‘Smoke,’ but he was definitely foreign. He didn’t sound Turkish either, like Kamal or Emira. His accent was very different.”
“What happened when you got to England?” asked Harry. He was curious to know how they’d made it through the port without any hitches. “Didn’t the port authorities ask them questions?”
“No, there was no problem.”
Harry made a note to pass this information onto Marcus Edge. It was probable that the gang had someone at the port on their payroll.
“Once through Dover, we drove up the motorway and parked up for ages outside Sheffield,” Tracy said.
“How did you know where you were?” asked Harry. “I take it there were no windows in the back of the van?”
“No, we didn’t see outside for days, but the van was old and the bodywork rusty. I scraped away at it until I made a hole I could see through.” She smiled. “I did my best to remember every sign and road name.”
“Clever girl,” Harry said.
“Sheffield was interesting. Some men joined the ones taking us, and there was some sort of argument. Kamal wasn’t happy. It sounded like things weren’t ready or something. One man did most of the talking. I didn’t see him, he was standing to the right of my spyhole, but I certainly heard him. He gave Kamal a right roasting, said Smoke, the boss in Europe, wouldn’t be happy and that if Kamal wanted to live, he’d better put things right.”
“Did Kamal use a name when he spoke to this man?”
“No, but he had a broad Scottish accent.” She smiled. “A lot stronger than yours.”
“Are you sure, Tracy?” Harry asked. “It was definitely Scottish, not something else?”
“I’m certain.”
Harry felt his head begin to swim. That meant one thing. His instincts had been right. Salton was in charge of this operation, had to be. His old enemy was working for this Smoke, the one Tracy had met at the villa. He was one of his UK operatives, probably running the north of England.
“Does that help?” Tracy asked.
“A lot,” Harry said. “You’ve done well.”
“What’ll happen to the other women and girls?” she asked. “Some of them are very young.”
“Where possible they will be returned. I’m no expert but those who have no one might be able to seek asylum in the UK.”
“Two of them died. The woman who escaped from the villa with me was shot by Kamal. We were running for our lives, he had a gun and shot at us. I don’t think he meant to hit us, we were far more valuable alive, but he lost his temper, didn’t seem to care. I was devastated when she screamed and fell but I couldn’t stop, they’d have killed me too. The other one died in the van. I don’t know much about these things, but I think she had appendicitis. I hammered on the van to attract the driver’s attention, but he took no notice. That journey was one of the most terrifying experiences anyone can endure. I want whoever did it catching. They should spend the rest of their days locked up for what they did to us.”
Chapter Forty-nine
“Tracy will be allowed to go home but we’ll keep a close watch on her,” Harry said. They were back in the main office.
“Poor girl,” Jess said. “That was some experience. She’s been brave all right, and resourceful too. And she gave us a clue, the Scottish man. That’s who we need to find, Harry. Whoever he is, he’s one vicious bastard.”
Jess was right, but it didn’t make Harry feel any better. It looked more likely than ever that the man Tracy meant was Salton, that he was behind this and was somewhere nearby. The man hated him, would kill him if he got the chance. He had to find out where he was and have him brought in urgently.
He disappeared down the stairs and made for the car park. He wanted a word with Sandy.
“I have to know where Salton is holed up,” he told him. “Sandy, this is important, lives depend on me bringing him in.”
“I’ve told you, laddie. He’s living on Barra, has been on and off for six months or more.”
“Is he using his own name?”
“I doubt it, but that information isn’t easy to get hold of. A whisper did have him leaving last week. He may be back but I’ve no way of checking.”
“I need to know where he is, Sandy. It’s possible he was close to here recently and if he was we’re in trouble. I need more information. I need to know when Salton left the island and his exact whereabouts now.”
“Are you sure about this, laddie?”
“No, I’m not sure about anything but the case I’m working on has Salton stamped all over it. D’you have his Barra address, I’ll have it checked out.”
“Barra is tiny, you just have to ask at the shop by the jetty. You’ll soon find him.”
Next, Harry rang Marcus Edge and told him about Tracy and the other women.
“We are speaking to the women, and Tracy will be interviewed shortly. Regarding Salton, I’ll make some enquiries and get back to you,” Edge said.
“Tracy mentioned a man she met at a villa she was held at. She has no idea where this was or his real name, but the people around him called him ‘Smoke.’”
“Could be useful. I’ll see if anything is known about him. Given the attempt on your life, a safe house might be an idea. You are obviously considered a threat.”
“I suspect that was down to Kamal. I want to bring him in,” Harry said.
“Not yet. Kamal and his sister are in trouble. They’ve lost the merchandise and the big man won’t be happy. They’re more useful to us free. That way, we can be ready when they slip up.”
Harry returned to the main office, where DI Maxwell was waiting for him.
“Sykes has come round. He’s admitted to lying.” He tossed a report onto Harry’s desk. “A copy for you. You might find something in there that will help, although I can’t see it. He says he found the kid wandering around on her own. When he was seen, he was taking her to the kiosk at the entrance. That’s his story anyway.”
“And he left her there?” Harry asked.
“So he says. With the girl who takes the money for the boat rides.”
“We should have a word with her,” Harry called to Jess.
“Oh, I already have. I interviewed her myself this week.” Maxwell said. “She reckons the kid’s mother came for her, all panicky and screaming for the child.”
“Did she know who the mother was?”
“Kelsey Green.” He saw the look both detectives gave him. “She did say this at the time too, but she wasn’t believed — some discrepancy with the descriptions of Kelsey and the woman who took Lucy. I showed her a couple of photos of Kelsey, it was her all right.”
Jess looked Harry in the eye. “Lucy didn’t go missing that day at all. Kelsey faked the whole thing. I wonder what for.”
“Trouble is, we can’t ask her. But Lucy was still reported missing for several weeks after that and then turned up out of the blue. Why, I wonder? What happened to change things?”
“What about those traces of Lucy’s blood on Sykes?” Jess asked.
“He maintains the kid had fallen and grazed her knee.”
&n
bsp; Something he’d maintained all along. “How is the CCTV examination going?” Harry asked.
“Slowly, sir,” PC Carter said. “They don’t have an organised system and they keep days’ worth of stuff on micro discs that they don’t label. Searching through them is a nightmare and it’s taking all my spare time.”
“Make it a priority. Colin!” He called to DC Vance. “Give him a hand.”
Lucy Green had been in Shaw’s Haulage yard shortly before she was found, which was the very day Sutton and Marsh went missing. Why? Find out and it could help the case.
“Your mobile’s ringing.” Jess nodded at his desk.
He picked it up. “You will meet me.”
Harry didn’t recognise the voice, but from the accent he presumed it was Kamal. “Why? We’ve nothing to talk about.”
“You have my property. I want it back.”
“Those women are no one’s property, and certainly not yours.”
“Was last night not warning enough? We do not play games. You have one hour to arrange something.”
“And if I don’t?” asked Harry.
“There will be consequences.”
“Idiot!” Harry said, and threw the mobile back on his desk.
“Who was that?” Jess asked.
“One of the people who took those women. His name is Kamal and he works for whoever is behind the trafficking. I also think he was behind the fentanyl that was dished out on the Baxendale, perhaps even the killing of Sutton and Marsh too.”
“The Kamal Tracy told us about? The one me and Colin saw shoving those women into that bus?” Harry nodded. “Then we should bring him in. Babs Milton too, she’s bound to know things. The man is living with her.”
He sighed. Jess looked so serious, so intent on getting it right. “It’s not that simple. I’ve been told to leave him out there, him and his sister.” He saw the look, the questions that would follow. “It’s not just the police involved in this, Jessie. There are others. I simply do as I’m told.”
Chapter Fifty
“What others? What are you talking about? What’s really going on?” Jess asked. “You’re not involved with these people, are you?”
THE GUILTY MAN an absolutely gripping crime mystery with a massive twist (Detectives Lennox & Wilde Thrillers Book 1) Page 17
