Two Victims

by Helen H. Durrant

  “He withdrew a hundred quid, no receipt, stuffed the cash in his pocket and legged it.”

  Rachel looked at the image closely. There was no mistaking who it was. Akerman.

  “How did he get hold of her card and the PIN?” Elwyn asked.

  “Print out that shot and we’ll go and ask him,” Rachel said.

  “You’re not waiting for Jonny?”

  Rachel turned to Amy. “Let me have the information as soon as he gets back. Any luck with the CCTV?”

  “They’re sending me a link to the footage, ma’am,” Amy said.

  * * *

  Rachel and Elwyn went into the interview room. “Mr Akerman, would you like a solicitor?” she asked.

  “Do I need one?”

  She sat down facing him across the formica table. “I’m DCI King and this is Sergeant Pryce. We want to interview you about your relationship with Agnes Moore, and what happened on Monday evening. Are you happy to continue?”

  Immediately he became agitated. “You can’t think I had anything to do with her death? I’d never hurt her.”

  “Well, someone did.” This made him squirm. “And they didn’t hold back. You have history, Mr Akerman. You beat your wife half to death and went down for it.”

  The look on his face was poisonous. “I’m not that man anymore, I told you. You people, you never give folk like me the benefit. I loved Agnes. We were planning a future together.”

  Rachel put down a photograph in front of him. It was the one showing him at the ATM. “What were you doing with her debit card?”

  He looked from one detective to the other. “She gave it to me. I was a bit short, see. Agnes said she didn’t need it on holiday, she said she’d take her credit card instead.”

  Rachel leaned forward, a look of disbelief on her face. “You expect me to believe that load of rubbish? You’re a real piece of work, aren’t you? You stole it from her, didn’t you? That’s the truth of it.”

  “No! I told you, she gave it to me.”

  “How did you get hold of her PIN?” she asked.

  “She told me it. Why would I lie?”

  “Perhaps because you killed her and thought you’d help yourself. You argued on Monday night, didn’t you? Lost your temper and couldn’t control it. That’s what happened, isn’t it?” Rachel said.

  “No! No! I would never hurt her.”

  Elwyn cleared his throat. “So, if you have nothing to hide, why did you run from DCI King and her colleague?”

  “I knew that if you brought me in, I wouldn’t stand a chance,” Akerman said. “I didn’t want to go down again, for something I didn’t even do.”

  “You saw Agnes the day she died. How was she?” Elwyn asked.

  “We had a drink in the Grapes after she finished work. She was fine. When I left her, she was going home to pack. She’d borrowed a suitcase from a workmate — bloody great thing it was. We joked about the amount of stuff she was taking.”

  “How did she get home?” Rachel asked.

  “She ordered a taxi. I left her outside the Grapes, waiting for it.”

  “Why didn’t you wait with her?” asked Rachel. “It’s a rough part of town. Didn’t you worry for her safety?”

  “She didn’t want me to. She works just across the road and knew the score. Anyway, it was raining, so she told me to go. Said she’d be fine.”

  “Did you hear from her after that?” asked Elwyn.

  “She said she’d ring me when she arrived at her hotel.”

  “Didn’t you wonder why that didn’t happen, Mr Akerman?” Rachel asked.

  He shrugged. “Not really.”

  “You were fond of Agnes. Isn’t that so?” Rachel said.

  “Yes, of course I was. We’d got close over the last few weeks.”

  “So why not ring or text her? Find out how she was after the flight. Make sure she’d made the hotel okay.”

  “Because, DCI King, she’d had a busy time of it at work and she wanted a week away to rest up.” He shook his head. “Agnes hated fuss. I knew she wouldn’t want me bothering her every five minutes.”

  “Not even a quick call or text? You know, check in, make sure she’s okay. You say you were close but your apparent lack of concern doesn’t reflect that.”

  Rachel saw the look he gave her. Akerman didn’t take criticism well, and, given his history, especially not coming from a woman. “We’ll give you some time to think things through,” she said. “I suggest you arrange for a solicitor to be present the next time we talk.” She stood up and began to gather up her notes.

  “You have to believe me. I didn’t harm Agnes. She was fine when I left her.”

  “A uniformed officer will arrange for a solicitor to be present at our next interview.”

  “Can I go home? I’ve got work tonight.”

  “I’m afraid not, Mr Akerman. You haven’t answered all my questions yet.”

  “I don’t know what else I can tell you,” he said.

  “Try the truth, Mr Akerman.” Rachel marched out.

  Out in the corridor, Elwyn said, “You came on a bit strong there, Rachel. We have no real proof that he’s guilty.”

  “Until we know different, he stays here. The man is a bully and he batters women. He is a prime suspect.”

  Jude Glover was waiting for them in the incident room. She smiled. “I’m told you’re interviewing someone. Quick work.”

  “Agnes had a boyfriend — a convicted wife batterer, would you believe? Want a coffee?” Rachel said.

  “No time, sorry. I’m on my way to a meeting. I popped in to tell you that we’ve finished examining Agnes’s flat and we found something rather interesting. She had a guest. It’s a one bedroom apartment but someone had been sleeping on the sofa in the sitting room. And that someone has dyed pink hair.”

  Rachel immediately recalled the girl who’d approached them. This was just too much of a coincidence.

  “Thanks, Jude. As a matter of fact, Elwyn and I met a girl with pink hair outside the health centre where Agnes worked. We’ll get on it.”

  “There was something else — a diary,” Jude said. “It looks like she used it for appointments. There are various girls’ names against dates, plus the odd address.” She handed Rachel an evidence bag containing a small black book.

  This was important. “I bet she saw the girls in her own time, possibly at her flat. Thanks. This could be just what we need.”

  Rachel’s phone beeped. It was Jonny.

  “Ma’am, I’ve just had an interesting conversation with the landlord of the Grapes. Agnes Moore and Don Akerman had a heated argument in there Monday. Things got so bad he had to ask them to leave. Outside on the street, Akerman punched her arm. Agnes was visibly upset. The landlord doesn’t know where they went but she didn’t get into any taxi. Last thing he saw was Agnes trundling down the footpath, dragging a suitcase behind her.”

  “Thanks, Jonny. What time was this?”

  “He reckons it was about five thirty.”

  Rachel turned to the team. “Akerman was lying. He did have a row with Agnes in the Grapes, and he hit her. Amy, find out if he has a vehicle. I think we should have forensics check it over.”

  “Email me the details of his home address, Rachel, and we’ll get on with it right away,” Jude said.

  Rachel went to her office to check the PM report. It stated that Agnes had died at about eight that Monday evening. So what happened to her between five thirty and the time she was murdered?

  Returning to the incident room, Rachel spoke to one of the uniforms. “Mr Akerman will be staying the night,” she said. “Make sure he understands.” She checked the time. Next on the agenda was the health centre and that appointment card. Finding the identity of the other young girl was a priority.

  “DCI King?”

  Rachel spun round to see a uniformed officer standing at the incident room door. He handed her a slip of paper.

  “We’ve had a call from a DS Howe at Salford CID. He ask
ed if you would ring him urgently.”

  What did he want? She wasn’t aware of anything they were currently involved in that would interest Salford.

  She turned to Jonny. “Make sure Jude has all the information she needs.”

  Rachel went to her office and phoned the number on the slip of paper.

  “What can I do for you? And make it quick, we’re up to our eyes in a murder case,” she said.

  “We’ve got your daughter Megan at Salford station. She’s asked that you be present when we interview her.”

  Chapter Eleven

  The DS from Salford had refused to tell her anything over the phone. Keeping this juicy little family titbit to herself and merely telling the team that she had to go out, Rachel drove off. She was bloody annoyed. So much for that chat with Lorraine Hughes. What the hell was Megan up to?

  She arrived at Salford and was taken to a soft interview room, where Megan sat drinking coffee. She looked pale, dishevelled, short of sleep and in need of some clean clothes.

  “Now what, Megan?” Rachel demanded. “You don’t come home for two days, and then you turn up in a police station.”

  “Don’t go on, Mum. It’s nothing. They’ve got it all wrong.”

  Rachel sat down beside her. “The police don’t bring people in for no reason, Megan. What have you been up to?”

  The girl averted her eyes. “There was a party,” she finally admitted. “I suppose it got a bit out of hand. I think one of the neighbours must have rung this lot.”

  As Megan spoke, DS Howe and a uniformed officer entered the room. Howe was heavily built and tanned, with short fair hair. He smiled. “Sorry to keep you.”

  “Look, is this really necessary?” Rachel asked. “I’ve got a mountain of work back at the office. If it was a lift home she needed, Megan could’ve rung her dad.”

  Much to Rachel’s annoyance, DS Howe ignored her and turned to Megan, still smiling. “You’re not in any trouble. I’m hoping that you can help us. Tell me about last night.” He sat down opposite them. “How was the party organised, for example?”

  “That was down to Nicu,” Megan said. “A tenner and you’re in.”

  “How does word get out about these parties?” Howe asked.

  “I know about them because he texts Shannon, my friend. Then we tell anyone who might be interested. Word soon spreads.”

  “Your friend Shannon and Nicu, are they close?” he asked.

  “God no! Any contact is about the parties, nothing else.”

  “So, if he rings her, Shannon must have Nicu’s mobile number, right?”

  Megan looked at her mum and then back at DS Howe. “Actually, no. She can’t contact him. Each time he texts it’s always from a different number.”

  “And you’ve never thought that odd?” Rachel asked. She knew exactly why this was and how it worked. Nicu was using burner phones. He didn’t want to be traced.

  “Mum, please don’t go on. It’s the parties we’re interested in, not Nicu. We just need to know when and where. We’ve never really thought about why he has so many numbers.”

  “Do you know this Nicu?” Howe asked. “Have you met him?”

  “I’ve seen him once. He always turns up to let us into the apartment and returns later to collect the money. Some of my friends know him. They reckon he’s okay.”

  “Tell me how these parties work,” Howe said.

  “Nicu has a contact with an apartment in town. It’s one of those in that fancy new block in Spinningfields, the one with the rooftop bar. When it’s free, he lets people use it. A tenner each for the night, which is good value, far cheaper than a taxi home. We meet up and have a few drinks, that’s all.” Megan glanced at her mum. “Nothing heavy — until last night that was.”

  “What happened?” asked Rachel.

  “We were gatecrashed. To begin with, there were about thirty of us. We were having a good time. There was plenty of booze and we chatted until the small hours without having to worry about how to get home.”

  Rachel was astonished. This Nicu bloke had made a cool three hundred quid out of this stupid lot. Not a great deal of money, but he could be at this every night for all they knew. “Have you done this before?” she asked.

  “No, but some of my friends have.”

  “Mrs King,” Howe said. “If you don’t mind.”

  “I do bloody mind! What’s she here for? Are you charging her with something? Because if not, I’m taking her home.”

  “Please let Megan talk, Mrs King. We’re hoping she can help us.”

  The expression on his face said he was doing his best to stay patient. Rachel knew she should calm down, but she was stressed. The tightness in her belly told her that much.

  “Do you know Nicu’s full name?” Howe asked.

  Megan shook her head.

  “This mate of yours, Shannon, we will have to speak to her. Can I have her name, address and phone number?”

  Megan scribbled them down. “She’s a student like me, lives in Stalybridge.”

  Rachel was astonished that her daughter could be such an idiot. “You go into town, to a party organised by a complete stranger. You’re not even sure access to the apartment was got legally. You pay over good money to people you don’t know. Are you completely stupid, Megan?”

  Megan shrugged. “All my mates were going. There’s no need to stress, Mum. It was a party. We drank a lot of booze, fooled around and played music. There were no drugs or anything involved. Until those two idiots turned up, everything was fine.”

  “The people who gatecrashed the party are known to us,” Howe explained to Rachel. “This Nicu she talks about is part of a gang we’ve been keeping an eye on.”

  That was all she needed! “What’s this one got herself into?” Rachel demanded.

  He hesitated, and shook his head. “I’m sorry, but there’s a deal of effort been put into this operation already. I can’t risk gossip.”

  “Gossip? Do you know who you’re talking to? I’m a DCI, for God’s sake.” Rachel was blazing. How dare he? “You’d better tell me what you know about these people or I’ll have a word with your superiors.”

  That did the trick. “We suspect Nicu, full name Nicu Bogdan, of being involved in people trafficking, among other things.”

  Short and simple, it hit the spot. A shocked Rachel turned to her daughter. She’d expected him to tell her they’d been smoking weed or something. “Did you know anything about this?”

  “Don’t be daft, Mum. How could I?” Megan retorted. “Nicu is just someone the others know.”

  “He sounds Romanian, is that right?” Rachel asked Howe.

  “Romanian father and English mother,” he said. “He’s lived in both countries during his short life, but he seems to have settled here now.”

  Rachel decided then and there to find out more about Megan’s friends. Her daughter might be eighteen but she needed watching.

  “We suspect that the apartment in town is a stopping-off point for the ones being moved on. But we think it’s also where he sources likely candidates for other work.”

  Rachel had a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. “What sort of other work?”

  “Look, DCI King, I really shouldn’t be talking about this. Can I suggest that if you want to know more, you approach DCI Kenton, the SIO in this case?”

  Rachel understood the sergeant’s concerns. She wouldn’t be overly thrilled if one of her team spouted off about their cases either. Time to quiz Megan herself. “Traffickers bring people in from overseas. Was there anyone at this party who didn’t speak English, or looked very out of place, Megan?”

  “There was a group of girls, six of them. They were very shy and didn’t talk to anyone. They were foreign, Eastern European I think.”

  “Did you see what happened to them?”

  “Some bloke showed them in but he didn’t stop. The girls just stood around by themselves, and soon a couple of other blokes turned up. They spoke to the girls, but thing
s can’t have gone well because there was a lot of shouting.”

  “Do you know what about?” Howe asked.

  “They all went into another room, so we couldn’t hear properly.”

  Howe leaned forward. “What were they like, these men?”

  “Smartly dressed. English, I think. When they arrived, they chatted to us lot for a bit, but it was obvious that they were more interested in the foreign girls. Then they took the girls away. That was when it got noisy. The girls screamed blue murder all the way along the corridor. It was obvious they didn’t want to go with these blokes.”

  DS Howe looked at Rachel. “I’m sorry, DCI King, but I’ve got a couple more questions to ask.”

  Rachel nodded.

  “Did the men or Nicu mention the names of any of these girls?”

  “I didn’t hear any names, except Ruby. When Nicu let us into the apartment, he kept asking us about Ruby. Where she was, if we’d seen her, that sort of thing.”

  “You’re sure it was Ruby he was interested in?” asked Howe.

  “Yes, but she wasn’t with us.”

  “Do you know Ruby’s surname?” Howe asked

  “No, I don’t know her at all. She’s just a tag-along. She hangs out with the crowd we know from the pub near the uni. She turns up sometimes and latches on to the group. All I know about her is that she’s not happy with her job and is looking for something else.”

  “We took photos. Take a look at these, see if she’s there.”

  Megan shook her head. “It’s a waste of time, ’cause she wasn’t. D’you think I’m stupid?”

  “Megan! Remember where you are.” Rachel nudged her. “Just look at the photos. The girl might be there. You were bladdered, don’t forget.”

  DS Howe found the images on a laptop on the table. He spun it round so that Megan could see. “Take a look and tell me if you see her.”

  Sulkily, Megan scanned the screen. “Told you. She’s not there. And there’s no missing her. Common as muck, she is.”

  “Thanks, Megan, you’ve been a great help.”

  As far as Rachel could see, Megan had been no help at all. “What’s so special about this Ruby?” she asked. “There’s hundreds of pretty girls. Why look for her in particular?”