Harry said that he had already briefed the sergeant on the ground with the various scenarios and reached for the police personal radio on his desk.
‘Superintendent Delany to Oscar One,’ Harry said into the device.
‘Oscar One, go ahead, sir,’ came the reply.
‘Scenario one is a go. Arrest option confirmed.’
‘Yes, yes, received; all teams from Oscar One; strike, strike, strike.’
Chapter Fifty-Three
A little earlier…
‘Can you meet me on top of the multi-storey car park near the market?’ Babik asked.
‘Sure, but why there?’ Sue replied.
‘There are a couple of girls from the mill who have earned their freedom, and I need you to look after them for a little while until I can arrange their onward transportation,’ Babik said.
‘You at the mill now?’
‘Yes, I’m here with our guest, which is why I want this doing now, so I can impress him.’
‘Wouldn’t it be easier if I just came to the mill? You could introduce me,’ Sue said.
Babik replied, ‘We are just leaving and as he wants dropping back at his hotel first, that will have to wait.’ Then he lowered his voice to a whisper and added, ‘There was a reporter sniffing about earlier, so the less comings and goings around here the better. See you in 30.’ Babik ended the call without waiting for a reply.
Babik hadn’t wanted to worry Boldo over what the streetwalker had told him, but it was a concern he would have to address. First though, he would deposit Boldo back at the hotel and tell him he would see him at breakfast. As he did so, Boldo said that he would make a couple of calls and get the new women mobilised.
Babik then went back to the mill and collected the girls. He told Gill to close the mill once the current gold card holders had finished, and to cancel any remaining appointments that night. He was fairly confident that whoever had been asking questions would have long since become bored of riding aimlessly around the streets of Deepdale, but security came first and he didn’t want anyone noticing any comings or goings anywhere near the premises.
He told the two women to hunker down in the rear seat of his car. They did as they were told without question. Both women were only in their mid-thirties, slim and very attractive brunettes with deep olive complexions. The taller of the two insisted on thanking him again. He told her to be quiet, and that there was no need.
‘But you don’t understand,’ she added.
‘Understand what?’ Babik asked.
‘My next client later, was to be Mr Fifteen.’
Babik knew that the gold card holders were told to only use their card numbers and not their names, but without checking the register in Gill’s office he had no idea who the girl was referring to. ‘And?’ he asked.
‘Fifteen is a bad man, he likes to hurt.’
Babik looked in his rear view mirror and could see that the other woman was nodding at what the taller one had just said. ‘Well, no need to worry now, you’ll not be feeling any more pain,’ he said, though he knew that wasn’t true.
Ten minutes later he handed the girls over to Sue, and could see how relieved they both looked as they climbed into her car. His strategy, of using Sue, was working. Though she had asked a strange question of him.
‘Mr Boldo happy with the hotel I sorted?’ she’d said.
‘Matter of fact he wasn’t, so I had to move him.’
‘Where to?’ A further strange question.
‘Doesn’t matter,’ he’d answered.
Then, after the women were safely in the back of Sue’s car, she asked what he wanted her to do with them. He told her to bed them down for the night and he’d arrange other premises the next day.
‘If they have earned their freedom, why don’t I just drive them far away and drop them somewhere? Say Birmingham; job done?’ she asked.
He was starting to gather that Sue hadn’t swallowed his story quite as easily as the women themselves had done. There was a long pause as they both stood between the two cars, facing each other.
Sue broke the silence. ‘Look, we are partners; you don’t have to over-protect me or sugar-coat everything.’
‘What do you mean?’ he asked.
‘Well, if I’m guessing right, maybe I can help?’ Sue said.
‘What are you guessing?’ Babik asked, now more than a little confused at the way the conversation was going. ‘Spit it out, will you?’
‘They aren’t getting their freedom, are they?’ Sue said.
‘Well, freedom from the gold card holders,’ he said.
‘Your turn to spit it out; unless you don’t trust me?’
Babik signed, and then lowered his voice to a whisper. ‘OK, I just need you to look after them and keep them calm until I can find the right person.’
‘The right person to do what?’
‘To kill them and dispose of them. You’ve obviously already guessed that.’
‘I might be able to help,’ she said. ‘I might know someone we can trust to do it. Someone like Bonehead.’
This did take Babik by surprise and yes, he half wished he hadn’t killed Bonehead; he’d have been ideal. ‘Really?’ he asked.
‘Let me make a few calls in the morning and then perhaps we can talk, early doors. That’ll surely impress Mr Boldo,’ she said.
Babik knew that would be very true. Sue never stopped impressing him, and here was another example.
‘But there is a condition,’ she said.
‘What?’
‘I want you to introduce me to Boldo tomorrow. We are a team, after all. Aren’t we?’
‘Sure we are. And yes, we’ll all meet tomorrow. Look, we’d better move before some security guard comes nosing.’
He then watched Sue get back into her car, flashing that trademark smile of hers as she turned to address the women on the back seat before driving off. He watched her go before he climbed back inside his own car. Yes, she had truly impressed him, and if she had the right replacement for Bonehead it would solve the immediate problem. But some of her questions about where they were staying still jarred, though he wasn’t sure why.
Then, he shook the thoughts from his head, climbed back into his car and headed off the car park in the direction of their new hotel near the motorway. He’d make a detour via Fletcher Road and pay the woman who had called him, try to illicit more information from her. Whoever the reporter was; they would need dealing with — permanently.
Chapter Fifty-Four
The sergeant on the ground had reported over the radio that Grady was in custody and the two women of eastern European extraction were safe. Frightened, but safe. And all were en route to the police station. Jim had disappeared and then returned with a kettle and some brewing tackle; at least they could now have a decent cuppa that was not the temperature of molten rock.
Harry was now less red and obviously very relieved that Grady was finally under lock and key. The fact that they had managed to save two women into the bargain was a bonus. He’d already called two family liaison officers out, to take initial care of the women. Gathering their stories into statement form would be arduous for all involved and take several days, with specially-trained investigators from the public protection unit. But for now, it was their immediate welfare needs that required attention. The on-call social worker said she would have staff available to help later in the morning. Vinnie glanced at his watch, it was now after midnight. By the time they had finished their heavenly beverages, the sergeant had walked into their office.
All had ‘gone sweet’ apparently, and the sergeant had left three staff in the premises overnight just in case Babik turned up. He said that Grady had gone mental, and kept saying the cops had no idea what they had done. Then, the surprise came.
Vinnie and Harry had both spoken to the custody sergeant prior to Grady being booked in, to request that she be kept incommunicado. They both knew that refusing someone their basic right to a telephone call was not
a decision taken lightly, and if granted, would be continuously monitored to ensure that it was not maintained for a second longer than was justified. Vinnie had explained to the custody sergeant that whilst Babik was on the loose Grady could not be trusted not to misuse her right to ‘inform someone of her arrest’ and warn Babik. The custody sergeant had agreed this in principle, but wanted a superintendent independent of the investigation to make the decision. That ruled Harry out. Fair enough, Vinnie thought, but he was shocked to hear that the on-call superintendent had refused the request. Harry was turning red again.
‘Which frightened-of-his own-shadow desk jockey did they ring?’ Harry shouted.
‘No idea, I’m afraid,’ the sergeant said, ‘but his details will be on the custody sheet.’
Harry paused while he gave his head a rub before asking, ‘So who did Grady ring, as if we can’t guess?’
The sergeant explained that they had refused to let her use her own mobile, claiming it was evidence, so she used the custody phone and dialled a number from memory. Vinnie asked a quick supplementary about her phone, but the sergeant only knew that someone in intel was looking at it; but the early indications were that it was a burner with very little on it.
Harry interjected that she must have another phone somewhere in her rented house. Hopefully, a search team in daylight would find it, but back to the current issue.
‘Who did she ring?’ Vinnie asked.
‘Well, that’s the really surprising bit,’ the sergeant said. ‘It was a London code, but when we did an emergency subscriber’s check on it, it came back unlisted.’
‘Must be a mistake,’ Harry said.
‘We double checked, sir, and it’s confirmed as never having been issued,’ the sergeant answered.
Harry thanked him and once he had left the office, suggested, ‘Perhaps it never went through, a wrong number dialled by Grady. Her mistake?’
Jim Day said he would check, and disappeared for about five minutes. Neither Harry nor Vinnie said much. It was obviously a mistake. Then Jim came rushing back in. ‘Spoke to the custody sergeant and he said she was definitely talking to someone, though the conversation was short.’
‘I don’t suppose he overheard anything?’ Vinnie asked.
‘Apparently, he moved away to afford her some privacy.’
‘Bollocks,’ Harry said, which was a sign of his frustration as Vinnie knew he rarely swore. And then Harry added, ‘the custody sergeant is obviously not an ex-detective.’
‘No, but the PACE inspector, who was loitering about signing reviews of prisoners’ custody times, was,’ Jim said, grinning.
‘And?’ Harry and Vinnie said in unison.
‘That’s when it got really weird,’ Jim said, pausing as if in recollection before continuing, ‘She apparently said, “it’s me, I’m locked up at Preston. Caribbean, I repeat Caribbean.” Whatever the fuck that means.’
Harry thanked Jim but reckoned the PACE inspector must have misheard. They played around with the sentence for a few minutes, but failed to come up with any plausible alternative. What was indisputable was that Grady spoke to someone, or at least, to an answer machine, which meant the line was good.
‘Just hope it wasn’t a warning to Babik,’ Harry said.
‘I suppose we will have to assume so, until we know different,’ Vinnie said. Jim then made his excuses, as he had to oversee the investigation side of things, arrange for Grady’s clothing to be bagged and for her to be forensically examined, just in case she was involved in the perv’s murder.
‘But why ring a London number?’ Vinnie said.
‘Perhaps that’s where the error is; maybe it wasn’t a 020 code, but something similar?’ Harry said.
‘I’d love to have the chance to interview Grady,’ Vinnie added.
‘I hope you are only thinking wistfully; we both know that’s not going to happen. Jim will talk to her re the murders and then she’ll be handed over to professional standards,’ Harry replied.
Vinnie didn’t answer, he knew this. They both spent the next 30 minutes updating their joint senior investigating officers’ log and then Harry suggested they get some rest and resume back, later on. ‘I’ll drop you,’ he said. They closed up and headed out towards the exit — only to bump into a frustrated-looking Jim Day.
‘Everything alright?’ Vinnie asked.
‘Suppose, but apparently the cells are full and the custody sergeant has taken the liberty of having Grady moved to Skelmersdale custody suite, which as you know, is almost in bloody Merseyside. Miles away,’ Jim said.
‘You want me to get involved?’ Harry asked.
‘It’s OK, thanks, he says he can’t afford to keep his patrols off their beats by transporting every drunk who comes in over the next few hours, and I suppose Skem custody will be much quieter. We have her clothes and she’s been examined, so we can pick it up tomorrow.’
Vinnie knew that as frustrating as it was for Jim, the custody officer’s rationale made sense. Though Blackburn custody suite was nearer, but that would probably be full already.
They bade Jim goodnight and Harry dropped Vinnie at the Premier Inn. They agreed to meet back at the nick at seven. It was now nearing one, and Vinnie was starting to lag. Christine would have to wait.
Ten minutes later, he was just about get into bed when his mobile rang. It was Harry. ‘You in bed yet?’
‘Nearly,’ Vinnie sighed.
‘Well don’t.’
‘Not another one, surely?’
‘No, I’ve just had two very interesting phone calls. One from a night cover desk officer at the National Crime Agency.’
‘What did they want?’
‘Apparently, our searches about all things Boldo have thrown up a few red flags,’ Harry said.
‘Must be serious, that it couldn’t wait until morning. What did they say?’
‘Standby for a second call; which I’ve just taken,’ Harry said.
‘From whom?’
‘You won’t believe it, but it was from the chief constable himself.’
‘What the hell is Brian Darlington doing up at this time?’
‘We’re about to find out, he wants to see us both in his office asap. I’ll pick you up in five.’
Chapter Fifty-Five
Vinnie was ready by the time Harry drew up. As soon as he’d closed the car door, Harry spoke. ‘The call from Darlington wasn’t the “second call” I was told to expect from the NCA’s night officer. It was just a coincidence. Well, it wasn’t the call the NCA meant.’
‘I must admit, I wondered about that,’ Vinnie said.
‘I’ve just had the second call from the NCA It was from a senior manager, who tells me that an active investigation into Boldo is underway and that I must stop all enquires immediately.’
‘I hope you told him or her where to go. We are investigating murder here,’ Vinnie said.
‘It was a her, and yes I did, but it cut little sway. She said our own chief constable would be ratifying the order.’
‘Order?’ Vinnie said. ‘When did we start taking orders from the NCA?’
‘She put the phone down before I could argue further.’
‘I bet Darlington wasn’t happy at being awoken at this unearthly hour,’ Vinnie said.
‘Probably not, but I don’t get why he had to turn out. Why not just tell me to stop, and see us later in the morning?’ Harry said.
Vinnie had no idea, but they’d soon find out.
Lancashire Police Headquarters was only five miles from Vinnie’s hotel and took no time at all to reach at this hour. They were shown upstairs to the command suite — they had both been there before. The chief’s own office was vast and accessed via a smaller office, where his support staff and staff officer worked, but it was empty now. Darlington met them in the smaller office and Vinnie noticed that he closed his office door behind him.
Salutations over, Darlington took a seat at his staff officer’s desk and invited them both to sit t
oo, which they did.
‘I’ve had some calls from the National Crime Agency,’ Darlington started.
‘Me too, sir,’ Harry said. ‘We’ve obviously touched on one of their ops by enquiring into this Boldo character.’
‘And some,’ Darlington said.
‘But we have some good news, sir,’ Harry proffered.
‘OK Harry, you go first, mine will take a little longer.’
‘Just to say that as of an hour or so ago we have the corrupt detective sergeant, Grady, in the cells.’
Darlington didn’t respond straight away, and Vinnie could see disappointment on Harry’s face. The chief had already been briefed, obviously. Vinnie could guess that Harry was trying to butter the chief up with the good news before the bad came. And judging by Darlington’s lack of response, bad must mean shitty.
‘My call was from the director general himself, and I had to move quickly,’ Darlington started, which made no sense to Vinnie. ‘In fact, he’s turned out a senior manager from their Manchester office, who I’d like you to meet in a moment. Well, I actually want you to meet two people,’ Darlington said, before rising to his feet.
Vinnie was still none the wiser and could see in Harry’s face that he was not alone. They both stood and followed the chief into his office. It was a large affair, with a huge mahogany desk at one end, a conference table in the middle with several chairs around it and four leather easy chairs nearer the door, surrounding a coffee table.
Seated in one of the Chesterfields was a woman in her forties, dressed in jeans and a casual shirt. But she looked out of kilter, as if she was normally more at home in a business suit. The starchy demeanour and casual attire didn’t go together. She stood up as Darlington introduced them to each other. Her name was Cath Simms and her accent was not from Manchester. It was nondescript, but with a southern tinge.
‘Ah, so you’re Harry,’ she said, as she shook Harry’s hand. ‘We spoke earlier, on the phone.’
The ‘giver of orders’ Vinnie thought, and a rank-conscious one at that, as she merely nodded at Vinnie. But the chief had said two people — and there was no one else in the office. Then he heard a cistern being flushed in the chief’s private bathroom, followed by the sound of its door being opened.
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