‘The meal’s fine, but the company has killed my appetite,’ she replied. The waiter took the hint and walked away. She looked down at Debroski, whose shocked expression was turning to something angrier.
She bent forward and whispered in his ear. ‘I’m surprised you’ve not tried to buy a meeting by attempting to bribe the officers in the case; or have they told you to fuck off as well?’
Christine didn’t wait for a reply, nor did she look back as she walked swiftly towards the door. She relaxed as she found her way into the gardens and her pace eased. She thought about her last remark, and then an idea hit her.
Even if it didn’t work, she could at least make sure that the two Romanian women weren’t troubled by Debroski. She found a bench and pulled her phone from her handbag. Time to ask Vinnie a favour.
Chapter Fourteen
Vinnie arrived back in the SIO’s office at Preston with a tray of three coffees from the canteen. Harry had changed and was just putting the finishing touches to his tie’s Windsor knot. Vinnie placed the tray of drinks on his desk, and said, ‘I don’t know why you bother, I always find the Windsor knot too hard to do.’
‘It’s a half Windsor, and that’s why you’re a DI and I’m a superintendent,’ Harry replied and grinned. But his smile dropped as Vinnie heard the office door behind him open and slam shut.
He turned to face Brian Darlington, the chief constable of Lancashire police. He was an imposing man in his late fifties, more than six feet tall with all the military bearing of the ex-guardsman he was.
‘What in the name of all that is holy and not covered in shite has just happened?’ Darlington said. It was only the second time Vinnie had heard the chief swear. And he was suddenly glad that he was not the one sporting the half-Windsor knot in his tie.
Harry took a sip of his coffee and then quickly brought the chief more completely up to speed than his earlier phone call had allowed.
‘And any news of DS Grady?’ Darlington asked.
Vinnie thought he’d help Harry out a little and answered. ‘I’ve left her a message on her answerphone, sir, but as of yet, no response. She’s not answering her radio and no one has seen her.’
‘Tell me again, Harry,’ Darlington said, and Harry explained once more their concerns.
‘Granted, it put Watson on offer, but how the hell were they able to mount an attack so quickly?’
‘We haven’t worked that one out yet, sir, but I can only image that they must have been there, watching the raid go down.’
‘And in comms with one of our detective sergeants, for God’s sake,’ Darlington said.
‘We won’t know that until we speak to Susan Grady,’ Harry said.
‘Initial plans?’ Darlington asked.
‘I’m going to get the incident room up and running and Vinnie is going to concentrate on finding Grady,’ Harry said. This was news to Vinnie, but he was more than happy with it.
Darlington turned towards the door and asked to be briefed of all developments. ‘I’ve got to go and brief the police and crime commissioner now,’ he said to no one in particular as he strode purposefully out of the office.
Vinnie was about to ask Harry whether Darlington’s tie had a full Windsor knot. But he thought better of it as his phone began to ring.
*
‘You didn’t have to kill her, for Christ’s sake!’ Susan Grady said, as she paced up and down the small room. Babik had known she would be pissed off, but he’d had no choice.
‘Look, what did you think I would do?’ he asked.
‘I’d managed to get her taken in as a witness so you could stop her before she blabbed.’
‘And what did you expect me to do, with five minutes’ notice?’ Babik asked.
‘I don’t know, I suppose just have an accident and ensure she got away. You could have picked her up later and talked to her, straightened her out, or something.’
‘We are lucky that we were approaching as the raid went down, and were able to hide quickly. If Bonehead here hadn’t been showing off his new bike, I’d have gone in the motor 20 minutes sooner and would have been well in it,’ Babik said.
‘I know, I know, but that’s why I talked them into taking her in as a witness; I had to think quickly. And where the hell did the gun come from?’
Bonehead, who was sitting at the table, smiled and then said, ‘Used to be a boy scout.’
‘Maybe instead of asking questions of me, you should be answering them? And sit down, you are irritating me,’ Babik said. Susan stopped pacing and joined him, and Bonehead at the old Formica table in the corner of the flat.
‘What do you mean?’ she asked, as she took a seat.
‘I mean, I thought it was your job to keep me alerted to any dangers?’ Babik said.
‘Look, it’s like I told you, we were only told the location of the raid minutes beforehand and I was unable to warn you until the last minute. I was as shocked as you were.’
‘I didn’t even know they were looking at me,’ Babik said.
‘You’re not the only one,’ Susan replied, before getting back to her feet and peering through the dirty nets that covered the grimy window overlooking the terraced street.
‘Does this mean we’ll have to abandon everything and set up again somewhere else?’ Bonehead asked.
‘Diddums,’ Susan said, adding, ‘is that as far as your rationale can reach?’
‘Leave him alone,’ Babik told her.
‘Look you two, an accident and an escape, I could have lived with. But murdering a witness that I ensured was on offer? They are detectives you know. They’ll soon work it out.’
‘What, you mean you’re blown?’ Babik asked
‘What do you think?’
‘But I need you back in the pig station to tell us what’s going on.’
‘Not going to happen. They’ll already know,’ Susan said.
‘Well if you hadn’t panicked and legged it—’ Bonehead started to speak, but Susan cut across him.
‘Cornel, tell him will you?’ she said, and Babik gave Bonehead a look before he turned back to Susan and asked her, ‘Where’s your phone?’
‘Binned it.’
‘Your police radio?’
‘Binned that, too, I panicked, should have kept that.’
‘OK; look, at least we’re safe here. Bonehead’s dumped and burned the bike, we need to work this out,’ Babik said.
‘Where’s the gun?’ Susan asked him.
‘Left it behind, they can never link it to us if we don’t have it. And before you ask, I wore gloves,’ Babik said.
‘Where was the bike nicked from?’
‘Middle of Preston,’ Bonehead said.
‘Who loaded the gun?’
‘I put the mag in when we dashed back here for it,’ Babik answered.
‘I mean, who put the actual bullets in the magazine?’
‘I did, ages ago. Why?’ Bonehead asked.
‘And were you wearing gloves when you did that?’ she pushed him.
‘Shit!’ Bonehead answered.
Babik spun around on his chair to face Bonehead. He couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. But as rage started to engulf him, a thought arose. He could see fear etched on Bonehead’s face as he pulled away from the table. But the idea calmed Babik, and his stony expression turned into a smile. That smile seemed to add to Bonehead’s terror and his eyes widened even further.
But Babik’s smile was genuine. ‘Calm down, Bonehead, it’s OK, we can sort this,’ Babik said, with genuine warmth in his words.
‘Are you sure, boss?’ Bonehead said, his fearful look now veneered with a puzzled expression.
‘Oh yes, this’ll be fine,’ Babik said. If his idea worked, there would be no problems and Susan would be safe. Then, he would just have the other problem to sort out, and quickly.
He’d been about to make a move on that, when he received Susan’s call; the damn cops had put his schedule back as well as adding to his dramas.
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No worries, it would all sort itself out.
Chapter Fifteen
‘Hi, you busy?’ Christine asked Vinnie as soon as he answered the phone.
‘You wouldn’t believe it.’
‘Anything the press should know about?’ she asked.
‘Probably, but not just yet. I’ll give you the heads up later.’
‘They must just save everything up, until Super Vinnie returns!’
‘That’ll cost you the first round.’
‘When?’
‘Hopefully, later this evening,’ he said.
‘Looking forward to it, but have you got five minutes now? I need a favour.’
‘Probably only four, but seeing it’s you…’ Vinnie said.
Vinnie listened as Christine told him about her plan to see if Romanian women were being trafficked into the north west, and in particular around Manchester. He knew this bit already, but not that her boss June had given her the nod, and not about her lunch date with John Debroski. When she’d finished, he said, ‘Debroski sounds a nob.’
‘I’d use stronger language.’
‘Spookily, I’m involved in a brothel murder which involves trafficked women, and the aftermath of a case that was at Preston crown last week, regarding an enslaved Estonian woman and others.’
‘Trafficked and forced sex workers, enslaved house servants; what the hell is going on?’ Christine said.
‘I think there may be lots going on under the surface; we need to wake up to it.’
‘Either of your jobs connected with the Manchester job?’ Christine asked.
Vinnie told her that they were not, but he would keep an open mind should any links become evident. Christine then told him what she was after.
She wanted Vinnie to try and speak to the detective in the Manchester case, to ask if he would speak to the two Romanian women on her behalf to see if they would agree to a chat.
‘Have you considered speaking to social services?’ Vinnie asked.
‘Thought I’d try you first, I suspect Debroski has already ruined that approach. They’ll just think “it’s more gutter press, after a story”.’
‘I’ll put a call in, but it might be later on,’ Vinnie said.
‘No rush, but irrespective of the outcome, can you ensure that Debroski gets nowhere near them?’
‘That should be easy enough to do, cop to cop. Look, gotta rush, I’ll bell you later.’ And with that, Vinnie ended the call.
He’d helped Harry set up the incident room before they grabbed a sarnie for lunch, and Harry had just finished his first briefing of the 10 detectives that they currently had, when he took Christine’s call. Harry joined him in the SIO’s office as he put the handset back in his pocket.
‘News about Susan Grady?’ Harry asked, as he closed the door.
‘I wish. It was just Christine, after a favour,’ Vinnie said.
‘You’ve not said anything?’
‘No, of course not. I know you are doing a press conference later on, but until them…’
‘Sorry, just panicking out loud. But any news re Grady at all?’ Harry enquired.
‘There’s an alert out to all cops throughout the region, an all ports warning has also gone out, and her home address is negative, but we have one of the intel unit sitting on it.’
‘Relatives, or known associates?’
‘HR have drawn up a list, but it’s a long one. She’s not been at Preston too long, but is well-liked,’ Vinnie said, before explaining that he was awaiting the arrival of her personal record from headquarters. He would go through it, but for now it made sense to keep to her recent associates and widen the net as and when they had to. Harry agreed, and suggested that they get the events of the incident down on paper.
And he was right; the sooner they got their witness statements done, the sooner they could move on. Vinnie went and fetched two coffees before sitting down with Harry to go through the events before they did anything else. The first job was to debrief the events together as they had been together at the time, and then get their pocket note books filled in. From there, their statements would be written.
It was only when they were seated and started going through the morning’s events that Vinnie suddenly remembered what Jody Watson had said to him in the seconds before her murder. With everything that had happened since, he’d not had time to reflect; at least it showed that the process worked.
“‘If I die, go after them with the key to all you need”, those were her last words,’ Vinnie said.
It was clear from Harry’s response that he had not heard her say that, from the driver’s seat. He said, ‘And what the hell does that mean?’
‘No idea, but just before she said it, I felt her hand near my jacket pocket. I thought she was actually trying to put her hand into my pocket, but as soon as she spoke, I realised she was just prodding me, to get my attention,’ Vinnie said.
‘But why would she say, “If I die”?’
‘She spoke only moments before she was killed, and I remember her looking over my shoulder. I was in the act of turning around when she was shot.’
‘You reckon she saw the attacker?’ Harry asked.
‘I reckon she must have, too much of a coincidence to choose those words, just before she was killed. And you know I don’t believe in coincidences.’
‘Or fairies,’ Harry said, finishing off one of Vinnie’s own adages for him.
‘But what did the latter part of her comment mean? Expected sudden death aside; “go after them with the key to all you need,”’ Harry said.
Then a thought hit Vinnie. ‘Shit.’
‘Shit what?’ Harry said.
But Vinnie didn’t answer; he was already on his desk phone to the switchboard asking to be put through to the incident room exhibits officer. Seconds later he was connected; he identified himself to DS Philips and asked if his bagged clothing had gone to the forensic lab yet. It hadn’t, but was about to. He told the DS to hang on; he’d be with him in minutes. Then Vinnie put the phone down, and could see a look of recognition on Harry’s face. Harry said, ‘Come on,’ as he stood up.
A few minutes later, Harry and Vinnie walked into DS Philips’ office. Vinnie could see his bagged clothing on the desk. He knew he was the only one who could open the bag, apart from the scientist of course, in order to prevent any possible cross-contamination.
The DS took notes as Vinnie carefully pulled his blood- and gore-stained jacket out. He knew all the pockets were empty, or should be, as he’d had nothing in them. Everything he’d been carrying was in his suit trousers, which he emptied back at the mobile police station.
He put on a pair of latex gloves and went straight to the right-hand side outer pocket. And in there he felt a hard, metallic object. He pulled it out; it was a yellow, metal, mortice-style key.
‘I’m guessing that’s not yours?’ Harry said.
‘No, it’s not, but with any luck it’ll be the key to all we need.’
‘Whatever that means,’ Harry finished.
Vinnie told DS Philips to log the key, get it examined for prints and DNA — of which at least the aggrieved’s should be present, and hopefully more — and then to book it out to Vinnie. He would raise an action, a line of enquiry, later to investigate the key’s provenance.
Two hours later, they had finished their notes and written their draft statements. Vinnie leaned back and repeated Jody’s words in his head for the thousandth time. What the hell did it mean, exactly? Was it the key to a box, an address, some other kind of other lock, or what? As soon as the key was released to him under action he’d find the nearest locksmith in Preston and find out what kind of key it was. That should help narrow things down, if only a little.
Then Harry broke into his thoughts, as he finished a call with, ‘Excellent!’
‘What is?’ Vinnie asked.
‘I’ve just begged a favour from the listings officer over at crown.’
‘Go on.’
&n
bsp; ‘Do you remember that Mohammed Sadiq is due to be sentenced today?’
Vinnie looked at his watch. It was already 3.45 pm. He nodded his reply.
‘Well, as luck would have it, he’s not been dealt with yet, in fact he is next up. But I’ve manged to get him back-listed until tomorrow, as it’ll be after 4.30 pm before the next case in line in court 10 is due to finish. Sadiq will be returned to the court cells, awaiting the prison bus to take him back to HMP Preston for the night.’
Vinnie could see where Harry was heading. ‘You think in view of what’s gone on today; whatever Sadiq is offering could be related?’
‘Same sort of crime; enforced servitude is enforced servitude whether you are doing the cleaning or something far worse.’
Vinnie grabbed his coat. This was now a murder enquiry and things change. Even if they ended up trading a lesser sentence for Sadiq for a crock of shite, it would be worth a try.
Chapter Sixteen
‘You guys like to cut things close, or was that the plan?’ Sadiq said, as soon as the court jailor left the interview room. But before Vinnie or Harry could answer, the jailor popped his head around the heavy steel door and said, ‘You’ve got ten minutes, give or take gents, before the prison bus is due.’ He didn’t wait for a response.
There were two aluminium chairs nearest the cell door, and another the other side of a small wooden desk. Vinnie reckoned the interview room had once been a cell.
Sitting on the other side of the desk was a small man of Asian heritage, aged about 45, with greying black hair. He was wearing a T-shirt and jeans. Both he and Harry scrapped the lightweight chair legs along the concrete floor as they made themselves comfortable.
‘Do you mind,’ Sadiq said, ‘that sound goes right through me.’
‘Sorry.’ Vinnie answered for both of them, noting that Sadiq had a local accent, rather than some pseudo-Indian subcontinent accent that many British Asians adopted, even if they had never been farther away than Wigan.
Introductions over, Sadiq was first to speak. ‘I’m guessing it was you guys who had my sentencing pulled, and judging by the timing, whatever’s on your mind is important.’
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