Two Victims

by Helen H. Durrant

  * * *

  The station in Salford was a large, rambling building on the ring road. It wasn’t far from Rachel’s own station but the traffic was heavy and the going slow. She made it with only minutes to spare.

  “Her solicitor is one of the top men from a reputable firm in town,” Kenton said. “She is insisting she knows nothing about trafficking, and that her husband sourced and hired the girls without consulting her.”

  “She’s lying. She had to know. Did you see where those poor girls were made to live? I wouldn’t keep an animal in that accommodation. She must have known what it was like.”

  “My team will need to speak to the four girls you brought in.” Rachel scowled. “We’ll be gentle,” he insisted, “they’ll be under no pressure. But if we’re to keep Mrs Blake in custody, we need all the evidence they can give us.”

  “Speaking of which, this might come in useful.” Rachel handed him a copy of the list of girls’ names. “It was on a laptop from the office at the club. There were no employment records, just this.”

  “Where is the laptop now?”

  “Digital forensics have it. There could well be further stuff on there that will help.”

  Kenton and Rachel stopped for a moment outside the door to the interview room. “Let me do the talking,” he said, “unless there is some burning issue you need to bring up.”

  This was no time to start arguing. Rachel simply nodded, silently determined to have her say, Kenton or no Kenton.

  Introductions for the tape out of the way, Kenton launched into the interrogation. Leonora refused to answer every one of them, responding to each with a “no comment.”

  Rachel had heard enough. The woman was playing games. It was about time she knew the score. As soon as Kenton fell silent, she cut in with, “Aren’t you concerned about your husband, Mrs Blake? If I was you, I’d be very worried indeed. I’d be asking myself why he hasn’t come forward to offer his support. But perhaps he can’t. There are some dangerous people out there. His life could be in danger.” She gave Leonora a moment to consider this. “Are you aware that Danulescu has been killed? Shot through the head by an unknown sniper.”

  This obviously shook Leonora. She turned pale. “When did this happen?”

  “Sorry, but we’re the ones asking the questions,” Kenton told her.

  “Interesting that you are concerned about Danulescu’s death,” Rachel said. “Are you maybe worried that your husband has gone too far?”

  “Ronan wouldn’t kill anyone!” Leonora shouted. “You’ve got this all wrong.”

  Rachel leaned back in her chair and smiled. “I doubt that very much. But do feel free to put us right, Mrs Blake. I would hate to see an innocent man brought to book over something he didn’t do.”

  “Okay, I admit Ronan is mixed up in it, but he is not the one running the enterprise.”

  “You make it sound like a business. Well, it’s a long way from being that,” Rachel retorted. “You and your husband are involved in human trafficking.” She allowed this too to sink in. “You keep those girls half-starved and feed them dope to ensure they stay in line.”

  “You can’t prove any of this.” Leonora looked at her solicitor. “Not against me, anyway.”

  “So, if not you, tell me who is to blame. These are appalling crimes, and someone has to pay.”

  “Not me, and not Ronan,” Leonora insisted. “We were coerced.”

  This made Rachel laugh. No way could she imagine anyone having that much power over those two.

  “You’re lying. It’s written all over your face. We’ve got the girls and they’re talking to us. In fact, we can barely shut them up. Why not do the right thing and tell us what you know?”

  Leonora Blake shook her head. “Not with a sniper on the loose. I speak to you and I’ll be signing my own death warrant.” She dabbed at her eyes.

  “Do you know a girl called Jess Darwin?” Rachel asked, ignoring Leonora’s theatrics.

  “Never heard of her.”

  “Maybe you don’t know any of the girls’ names. Perhaps there are just too many to be bothered learning them. You bring them into the country, work them like dogs for a while and then sell them on. That’s what happens, isn’t it?”

  “You are making this up to upset me.” Leonora turned to Kenton. “Is she telling the truth about Danulescu? Is he really dead?”

  “Mrs Blake, we’re simply trying to get to the truth,” Kenton told her, evading the question. “All we want is to stop the trafficking of young girls and arrest whoever is involved. If you tell us what you know, things could get a lot easier.”

  Rachel gave him a nudge in the ribs. That sounded suspiciously like the offer of a deal, perhaps the one he’d offered Danulescu. Leonora gives him evidence of her husband’s guilt, possibly even tells him where Ronan is hiding, and she disappears off to lead a new life. Rachel wasn’t having any of it. The Blakes deserved everything the law could throw at them.

  Kenton stood up. “We’ll leave it for now.”

  Just as well. Rachel was about to say something she might regret. Kenton was a piece of work. There was no way he was getting away with it.

  Out in the corridor, though, she gave it to him. “I’m not stupid. I worked out where that was going. You can’t cut a deal with that woman. She’s evil. Jess worked for the Blakes, and now she’s dead. Goodness knows how many more they’ve killed.”

  “You have no proof that the Blakes killed this girl, or any of the others.”

  “But it’s looking highly likely. I told you our cases were linked. I’ve got two bodies, well, four if you count Akerman and Danulescu. The one thing linking them all is that club and the Blakes.”

  Kenton ignored all this. “You got her talking, and that helped. But your involvement with Leonora Blake is now at an end.”

  “What are you frightened of?” Rachel shot back. “That I’ll crack this case before you? Steal your thunder? Didn’t you hear what I said? I have four murder victims. Four. That woman knows what happened, I’d stake my job on it.”

  “I wouldn’t if I were you,” Kenton said. “Come to my office, have a mug of coffee and calm down before you say something you might regret.”

  The coffee sounded okay, but Rachel couldn’t promise about the calm. The man was a moron. Almost everything he said wound her up.

  His office was a poky room on the third floor with a view of the car park and the River Irwell beyond. She sat down and waited while he made the coffee.

  Neither spoke, the only noise was that of the kettle and the chink of crockery. Rachel watched him, trying to work out what his problem was. Was it women, she wondered? Women in senior positions? He certainly didn’t like sharing information. Was it just that he didn’t like her?

  He handed her a mug and sat down facing her. “How well do you know Jed McAteer?”

  Where had that come from? The unexpected question threw her for a moment. “I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”

  “It’s a simple enough question. You went to an event at an apartment of his the other night. From the way you greeted each other, it was presumed you were friends.”

  Someone had been watching and had reported back to Kenton. But, who? More to the point, why? Well, she had no hesitation in fabricating a story, not where Kenton was concerned. “I attended the event with another officer on my team. It was on the back of the case we’re investigating. McAteer had made such a fuss about his building site being out of bounds while we recovered the bodies that he wanted to make amends, and so he gave us invitations to the opening bash.”

  He nodded. “Sounds plausible.”

  “That’s because it’s the truth! I don’t know what you’re trying to get at, Kenton, but why not save us both all this pussy-footing around and just spit out whatever you really want to say?”

  “You’ve got me all wrong. I was interested, that’s all. It is possible that you can help me with something.”

  Rachel gave him a filthy look. “W
hy would I want to do that? You do little or nothing to help with my case. I had to get Harding to step in just so I could be here today. I’ve had enough. But be warned. If my team find Blake first, it will be you waiting your turn.”

  Rachel slammed the mug down, spilling coffee on his desk, and stormed out. Stuff the bloody interview. Kenton could go to hell!

  The truth was, he had her rattled. Why had Kenton brought up McAteer? Sure, Jed knew the Blakes, but so did half of Manchester. That wasn’t a good enough reason, and he’d know about the building site and the problems with the search. No, this was about something else. Rachel could only hope that Kenton got involved in the present case and let it drop.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Dressed in a set of green scrubs with a fake ID badge, Nicu Bogdan entered the MRI. He’d no idea where Ruby was in this vast hospital, but if she’d been taken ill, not broken anything or been injured, the chances were she was on a medical ward.

  “Dr Jameson?” a nurse asked as he exited the lift.

  He smiled at her. “He’s running late. I’m his right hand today, but this is my first time in the hospital and I keep getting lost.”

  “Happens to us all, love. Wait for him over there by the main desk.”

  “Actually, I wouldn’t mind earning myself some brownie points. Do you know where I can find a Ruby Wood?”

  She smiled. “Our little runaway. She’s down that corridor on the right, in the side room at the bottom.”

  “Thanks.”

  Piece of cake. People were so gullible. He picked up a random file off the desk and, casually flicking through it, turned into the corridor. Nicu spotted the two uniforms at the door to Ruby’s room. He nodded at them and went in, closing the door behind him.

  He stood over the bed. “Not a word, or you’re dead.”

  There was a knock at the door. “Sorry, sir, but we have to keep the young lady in our sights at all times.”

  “Sorry, didn’t realise.” He smiled at them.

  Nicu picked up the chart from the end of her bed and whispered in her ear, “Time’s up, Ruby. You were warned.”

  “I haven’t said nowt. I’m no threat to you.”

  “Not what the boss thinks. Take this, and hide it well. You will say nothing about my little visit or things will not go well for you.” Pretending to check her oxygen machine, he slipped her a mobile phone. “I’ll be in touch.”

  * * *

  Rachel returned to the station in a foul mood. Kenton had really pissed her off. His bringing up Jed like that was upsetting, but it had also made her curious. Still, there were more pressing matters to think about now.

  She gathered the team together. They needed to look at what they’d got, which wasn’t enough to present to the CPS.

  “We still haven’t identified Agnes and Jess’s killer. Time’s passing and we haven’t got a thing.” She looked at each of her team in turn. “Come on, shape up. We have to find who killed them. Take another look at what we’ve got and if necessary, go and speak to the people who knew Agnes again.”

  A groan went round the room. They were working hard, but just weren’t getting the breaks.

  “We know that Danulescu killed Akerman,” Rachel said. “Akerman bit the Romanian and we have a positive DNA match. But Danulescu is dead, so we can’t pursue that one.”

  “Are we going with Danulescu killing Agnes and Jess?” Amy asked.

  “Unlikely. It was a different bullet for starters, came from a Glock and not an old army weapon like the others. Then there was the amount of violence used,” Rachel added.

  “Perhaps Agnes got too close to what Blake was up to and visited the club. Possibly she even tackled him. He couldn’t risk her speaking to us, so he had her killed,” Elwyn suggested.

  It was a good theory, but she had her reservations. “I don’t see Blake having anyone killed with a gun that’s a relic from seventy years ago. Human trafficking is organised crime. He must have access to high-powered modern weapons.”

  The team fell quiet. The expression on their faces said Rachel was right. Blake might be responsible for Danulescu and in turn, Akerman, but not Agnes and Jess.

  “Do we have any further info on Blake? Who he was until twenty years ago will do for starters.”

  “I’ve been doing the research on that, ma’am, but it’s tricky. I’ve narrowed it down to three possibles.” Amy handed Rachel the paperwork. She recognised one of them, Jamie Chisnall, and the name immediately rang warning bells. Years ago, he’d been a friend of Jed’s. He and Jamie had embarked on a life of crime together. This had to be Ronan Blake. Jed must have recognised him, but chosen not to tell her about his change of identity.

  “Pull the record on Chisnall,” she told Amy, with no further explanation.

  “We are still searching Blake’s properties, ma’am,” Jonny said. “A lot of them are empty, but so far there’s no sign of him.”

  “Make sure all the airports, ports and any other borders are made aware,” Rachel said.

  “Already done, but it’s thrown up nothing so far.”

  Rachel stared at the incident board. She’d pinned up the image of Blake at the top, with the names Danulescu, Nicu Bogdan and Leonora beneath it. But where did Akerman, Agnes and Jess fit in? She picked up the phone. A quick word with Jude was needed.

  “Have you managed to get anything from Danulescu’s ring yet?”

  “Give me until the end of the day. We did find blood — faint traces between the stone and the mount. Something else that might interest you, I’ve been giving the clothing Agnes and the girl were wearing the once over. Agnes’s has those fibreglass fibres on it, but we did find something else.” She paused. Rachel could hear her speaking to one of the lab technicians.

  “Go on, Jude, what did you find?”

  “Flakes.”

  “Flakes?” Rachel thought of breakfast cereal.

  “It could be that whoever killed them both suffers with the skin condition, psoriasis.”

  “That causes flaky skin?”

  “Very much so. It’s like a much worse version of eczema.”

  “Can you get DNA from these flakes?”

  “It’ll take time and it’ll cost, but yes.”

  “Do it, Jude. We need all the evidence we can get.”

  Rachel wrote this new snippet on the incident board. Given the little they had, it was significant.

  “Listen up,” she called to the team. “We’ve all been out, spoken to a lot of people. Have any of you noticed anyone with a skin condition?” There was a general shaking of heads. “Keep it in mind. Look up a skin condition called psoriasis, find someone involved in this who has it, and they could be our killer.” She wrote ‘psoriasis’ on the board.

  “DI Knight’s asked if he can have a word, ma’am,” Jonny told her. “It’s a couple he’s been dealing with. He thinks they may be of more interest to you.”

  “What couple?”

  “They came in the other day and made a complaint. Said it was a delicate matter. They reckon they’re the victims of some scam.”

  “Can’t Knight deal with it?”

  Jonny shrugged. “He says not.”

  This was no time to be hand-holding detectives from other teams. “I’ll speak to him later.”

  “Are we passing on the info about Blake’s true identity to Kenton?” Elwyn asked her.

  “No, we’re not. He can do his own digging. He gives us nowt!”

  Elwyn grinned. “You really don’t like him, do you?”

  “He is going to do a deal with Leonora. I was in that interview, I saw the way it was heading. What sort of detective gets the lowdown on one villain by letting another walk free? He needs to get out there, get the evidence and do his bloody job properly.”

  Rachel went to her office. She made a mug of tea and started to take another look at the statements they’d gathered. No one had said very much — certainly nothing helpful. Akerman, Danulescu, even Ruby, they had all been too frightened
to talk to her. Ronan Blake had some reach. But where was he now? Hiding in one of his properties? Or had he skipped the country already? He had to have contacts abroad, Romania and Albania in particular.

  Elwyn interrupted her ruminations. “We’ve just had a call, Rachel, and you’re not going to like it.”

  She looked up from the pile of statements. “Oh?”

  “They’ve found Ronan Blake.”

  She smiled. “What’s not to like about that?”

  “He’s dead.”

  Chapter Thirty-two

  The body of Jamie Chisnall, alias Ronan Blake, was found in an empty flat in Ardwick. The block was dilapidated, most of the tenants having moved out after it had been earmarked for demolition. The immediate area was run down and sparsely populated so it was unlikely there’d be any witnesses, but they had to go through the motions anyway.

  On hearing the news, Rachel immediately arranged for Jude to meet them at the flat. By the time she and Elwyn arrived, Jude had already done an initial assessment.

  “He was killed outright, a single shot to the head. From the angle of entry, I reckon that he was standing here, by the window, and that the shot came from that direction.” She pointed.

  “There’s another block across there. Get your people to take a look,” Rachel said.

  “Already on it,” Jude said.

  “It looks as if he was holed up here,” Elwyn said. “Not many home comforts but it’s the sort of place no one comes looking.”

  “Except us.” Rachel smiled. “Who found him?”

  “That young PC over there,” Jude replied. “It’s his first body, hence the vomit in the hallway.”

  Dr Colin Butterfield had made his initial examination. “There are no other wounds that I can see. Damn good shot, mind you. He hit his head on the wall as he fell, but that’s all I can see at this time.”

  “You can take him away,” Rachel said. She turned to Elwyn. “It wasn’t just us Blake was hiding from, which trashes my theory that Blake was running the trafficking gang.”

  “He might have been. Not even gang leaders are immune from violence. Perhaps he crossed someone, maybe another Romanian like Danulescu. They’re a hard bunch. Given what’s happened — his wife being arrested — Blake might have ceased to be useful.”