by Mark Bailey
***
As they drove to Watford, Stopford enquired after Cosmo’s heritage. ‘So where did you come from … and the name Politan? It’s quite unusual.’
‘It’s my mother’s maiden name. My mother is, for want of a better description, off-white; she’s nowhere near as dark as me. My father, at least on paper, is white, and I’ve taken his surname. He adopted me when he married my mom when I was four years old. As for my birth father well, your guess is as good as mine. He would have been darker than my mother and of West Indian descent.’
‘You have some white European blood in you too, Cosmo, with those green eyes.’
‘Yes, Greg, somewhere up in the family tree, but I’m not exactly sure where. I was one of those kids who was happy to go along with things. I had no wish to discover my genetic origins … or my father. From the little my mother tells me, if we had stayed with him, our future would have been quite bleak.’
‘Have you always been known as Cosmo?’
‘No, when I was young they called me Polly, which turned into Polly Slayer when Mom married my father, offending all manner of bird fanciers.’ Stopford roared laughing. ‘Then one of my uncles, one of my mom’s brothers, came up with Cosmo, as in cosmopolitan.’
‘That’s cosmopolitan as in a cosmopolitan country like the U.K.?’ asked Stopford.
‘Yes, Greg, only I’m a person … a racially diverse person.’
‘That’s brilliant, Cosmo, I love it,’ said Stopford as they pulled into Watford Therapy. ‘Right, this Dr. McTaggart we are visiting is a doctor of psychology and a real character. She’s not bad looking either, and she’s got beautiful big tits.’
I know, thought Cosmo, smiling to himself. ‘I’m looking forward to meeting her; I’ve heard a lot about her.’
Stopford knocked on Milly’s office door. She called them in, and Stopford introduced Cosmo. ‘My word, you’re a big boy,’ said Milly as she shook Cosmo’s hand. ‘Look at your hands; they’re huge.’
Right, thought Stopford, as he shifted uncomfortably on the spot. He knew what they said about big hands and long fingers as Milly stared down at Cosmo’s huge feet and he slid his own small — well smallish — hands quietly into his trouser pockets.
‘Pleased to meet you too, Dr. McTaggart,’ said Cosmo as he released Milly’s hand. Milly looked at the two officers standing before her and briefly pondered their evolutionary paths. Obviously, Cosmo was built for running into battle to kill or be killed. Greg, on the other hand, with his feisty personality and nature, was built to start the fight and run off and hide; that’s why he was short, so he could hide behind the bushes. They made a good pair, she decided; opposites attract.
‘Have a seat gentleman, and please, Cosmo, call me Milly.’
‘Alright, Milly,’ began Stopford as he removed his hands from his pockets. ‘We’ve called in today to have a look at your phone contact and have a general discussion with you.’
‘The one Nari sent me?’
‘That’s right.’ Milly picked her phone up and searched her contacts for David Crawford.
‘This is the phone contact Nari sent me,’ she said as she handed her iPhone to Cosmo who was closer. ‘It was the phone contact sent Nari by Kerford.’
Cosmo looked at it. ‘This is the South Croydon Inn mobile number. We’ve already checked. Hanni Dasti’s personal number and the inn number are the same. I bet this number was sent from Dasti’s phone. He just used his other name … David Crawford.’
‘What’s the point of that?’ asked Milly. ‘Why would Kerford send Nari Dasti’s number?’
‘If Kim wanted to get in touch with Kerford she could do so through Dasti. She didn’t have Kerford’s number so in Keford’s mind, and in reality, he was one step away from her. When we haul Dasti and Kerford in to explain themselves, Dasti will say she has Kim’s number because Kim met with clients there and Kerford will say he had Dasti’s number because he met with clients there too.’
‘Thanks, Cosmo, but why would Dasti do that? Why would she be the meat in the sandwich?’
‘Because,’ butted in Stopford, ‘whatever is going on in there, these two at least are in it together. You can bet anything Stewart’s number, or Sim Charles’ number if he is involved, or Naomi Harris, or Joe Charles or anyone else like that won’t be in Kerford or Dasti’s phone contacts because they can’t be easily explained away. Dasti and Kerford have the South Croydon Inn in common.’
‘I don’t think Joe Charles is involved; he’s in jail … or Naomi for that matter either.’
‘I was only using them as examples, Milly.’
‘So, that’s the phone thing fixed then,’ said Cosmo, hopefully ending the conversation before it got more complicated. ‘Okay, we’re a little concerned for your safety, Milly.’
‘Why’s that?’
‘Currently, we are looking at three motives for Nari’s murder. First is a disgruntled client. Second, there’s this rather pompous Giles Ryon, who we’ve virtually ruled out, and then there’s the connection with the South Croydon Inn.’
‘Which option are you guys thinking?’
‘We haven’t ruled any out. Currently, we are thinking along the lines of Dasti and Kerford at the Croydon Inn and one or two of the other names we’ve just mentioned. If we follow the third option through logically, it has to be something to do the Facebook deletions,’ said Cosmo. ‘It’s too coincidental for there not to be a connection.’
‘In other words, Milly, if we take the third option, we believe the catalyst to Nari Kim’s murder was your friendship on Facebook. Hopefully, your threat to them has diminished now Kim is dead. A lot of the evidence died with Kim, and they know that if something happens to you as well, then all sorts of shit will hit the fan.’
‘Look, Greg, I don’t want to sound smug, but I worked all this out a week ago and confirmed it to myself with the second call I made to you on Sunday morning. I believe they are warning me.’
‘That’s fine, Milly. Be very careful what you say and who you say it to, and anything you do from now on. If you are to meet with anyone or someone contacts you, especially if you don’t know them, please run it past Cosmo or me. What happened to Nari was vicious and sadistic. We’ll be keeping an eye on you, Milly.’
‘No worries. I might as well tell you now then. I’m flying to Edinburgh Friday afternoon and staying at the Premier Inn, Edinburgh Airport Newbridge Friday night. I’m hiring a car, and I’ll drive across and visit Joe Charles in Barlinnie Prison Saturday afternoon in Glasgow at 3:00 p.m. I intend to try and contact his father Gus Charles while I’m there and meet with him, but so far I’m not having any luck. After that, I haven’t quite finalized what I’m doing, but I’ll probably drive up to Dundee and try to meet with Deonaid Charles and stay at the Russells … my sister’s adoptive parents … on Sunday night.’
‘When are you coming back, Milly?’
‘Late Monday afternoon at this stage. Please don’t make a fuss, you two. You’ve got more important things to do than worry about me. There are a couple of reasons for Nari’s murder that don’t involve me. I don’t know why you’re bothering with me at all.’
‘It’s our job, Milly,’ replied Cosmo. ‘We need to keep you safe. There’s a lot to go in this investigation, and if we are right and follow option three, there’s a lot at stake.’
‘Thanks, guys,’ said Milly.
As they walked to the car, Stopford and Cosmo both agreed that Milly was holding out on them. Why was she trying to meet the Charles family one by one?
Chapter 28.
Milly considered her talk with Giles Ryon and the phone contact Nari shared with her on the day she died. The phone calls alarming Giles could have been Hanni Dasti and not Kerford calling Nari, at least according to Cosmo. Giles reasonably assumed it was Kerford or Crawford as the phone contact said, but as Kerford and Dasti were working together, it didn’t matter who made the call; they would both be after the same thing. It was starting to get complicated, so
Milly decided she would stick to the Scottish side of the investigation and leave Kerford and Dasti to Cosmo and Stopford.
When she returned to her unit that afternoon, she looked at the diary lying on the coffee table. It was on loan from the Russells so it would have to go back, but it contained answers, she was sure of it. Then she looked at her evidence board, at the rogue’s gallery, and considered Giles’ concerns about Kerford. It was something he said that caught her attention as she looked at Sibby’s diary again. Sibby held a secret to the end of the June when her diary ran out of pages. It didn’t make sense that she’d cut it off then and write nothing else in the four months that followed before her death.
She turned her attention back to the evidence board. She looked at Cailin Stewart and wondered if prison had mellowed him. She had helped detectives trap him in a ruse the last time he was taken for an interview before his incarceration began. She had walked toward Stewart in a deliberate ploy as the interview turned to interrogation. She was wearing clothes like those worn by Sibby the night she was murdered. She looked the same, a clone of Sibby Russell.
They had goaded and prodded the sleeping bear that day, as it stirred menacingly and roared. He cursed Milly, calling her a bitch and claimed he had killed her, unaware he was abusing Sibby’s twin sister. They couldn’t use it in evidence, even though it was recorded, but it proved a point — they had their man. No, thought Milly, a civil discussion with Cailin Stewart would be a bridge too far; he was renowned for his foul temper.
She continued to dwell on the evidence board. There had to be one of these rogues who held the truth in this tale. Niall couldn’t help; he was dead. Joe couldn’t help; he was in prison. She looked at Sim; he was a mystery. The left side of his brain didn’t know what the right side was doing. He stood in the photo sent to Milly by Deonaid, his arms folded, an enigma, all-encompassing and thoroughly ruthless in a placid, good-looking kind of way. His reputation preceded him, never to be trifled with — he was Blunt Force Charles.
She remembered the invitation from Sim for tea when she stumbled across him and Naomi at the airport in Perth. She hadn’t mentioned the encounter to Stopford. Police attention wasn’t on Sim Charles, but Milly was sure he was involved in Sibby’s murder. She just wasn’t running that line with Stopford yet, but planned to soon. There was no hurry; his time would come. He wasn’t going anywhere. Sim held the key, he knew the truth, but like Cailin Stewart, he was a bridge too far.
She turned her gaze back to the rogue’s gallery. There was only Gus Charles left. The whole Charles family was a hotbed of human emotion. There was love, hate and the desperate loss of a son. One son was gone forever and another for at least four years and potentially eight if he didn't behave. Then there was his split from Deonaid, and Gus’s belief his whole family was torn asunder by Sim and drugs. Joe claimed Gus wanted Deonaid back and, as for Sim, well, a suitcase under a bed would be too good for him. Milly stared at Gus as Gus stared back. She would work on Joe when she saw him on Saturday, and she might try his father. She turned from Gus to Sibby’s diary; then she looked back at Gus, and they stared at each other again.
Dr. Judas James and his team had completed the autopsy of Nari Kim and would release her body soon for the funeral. Milly decided she wasn’t going; she hardly knew her, and she hated funerals. It would all be too sad, not least because Nari was young, but she had been brutally slain, a sadness exacerbated by her parents learning how she earned her living. Maybe they wouldn’t go to the funeral either, thought Milly. Then she remembered Nari describing their financial position, so she called Judas James.
‘I’m calling to ask a favor, Dr. James. Is there any chance you can tell me the funeral home Nari Kim’s body will be released to post her autopsy when the legal matters are taken care of?’ Judas James loved using words like pre and post instead of before and after; it set you apart from the uneducated swill — it defined your level of education.
‘It is a highly unusual request, Dr. McTaggart. Of course, I will inform Detective Inspector Stopford that Croydon Funeral Homes will be collecting her remains from the morgue early next week, so you will need to make a request of him for the funeral home location.’
‘Thank you, Dr. James, you have been most helpful. I’ll be sure and give D.I. Stopford a call.’
Milly called Croydon Funeral Homes. She was informed there was no date set and there would be no formal funeral. The family had chosen a direct cremation — the cheapest option available, but they wouldn’t give her any other information. She would need to call the family or wait until a notice appeared in the paper or online. They continued to refuse any information until they realized that a more expensive option might be on offer, then information flowed freely — as she explained; ‘I am family after all.’ She got off the phone and, after consulting his business card, called Giles Ryon.
Giles went into a formal spiel about traditional Korean funerals. ‘They wash the body, Milly, and …’
‘Well, there won’t be any of that Giles, will there?’ she interrupted, ‘Nari was … oh shit.’ There was an uncomfortable silence as Milly realized she was just about to tell Giles that Nari was cut into pieces. It was confidential; there was no excuse.
‘You’re still tired, Milly.’
‘Yes, Giles, I’m sorry. I was going to say she was murdered and then realized it was insensitive to talk that way to you.’
Hoping her words had covered her blunder, Milly hastily went on, ‘I’m calling to offer to pay Croydon Funeral Homes for any type of funeral the Kims wish for their daughter, and her burial or cremation, obviously within reason.’
‘You are very kind, Milly.’
‘There are conditions, Giles. First is my anonymity and you will oversee the arrangements. I will call the funeral home now and pay a £2,000 deposit and will finalize the account prior to the day. I won’t be going, and this is my way of saying goodbye to her. Please make it as dignified as you can and don’t skimp on anything, Giles. I’m sure you’ll do the right thing.’
‘Of course, I will,’ he replied, and he started crying. Milly started crying too, so she hung up and called the funeral home and paid the deposit. They would call Giles when the Kims had decided on the funeral option they preferred. She gave them his details.
She tried eating a sandwich for lunch, but her stomach still churned from her near blunder. There was a knock on the door; it was her next appointment. She returned the uneaten sandwich to her lunch bag and walked from her office to the interview room. At least she had been able to help the Kims. Thanks for that, Uncle James, she thought.
Friday morning rolled around. Time at work the past couple of days had passed slowly, like watching test cricket, she decided. Officially, her full-time employment had finished with Watford Therapy, and she began Thursday in her part-time role. It was quiet Thursday and Friday like customers had mourned the passing of her permanent role and voted with their feet. She was entitled to come and go now as her work schedule demanded, but she felt guilty; like she had imposed her position on Rosie and Theo.
The new doctor of psychology, Dr. Sarah Hammond, would begin her position next Monday, June 5. She was a great acquisition. Her qualifications were practically identical to Milly’s, and, although she was three years older, their work experience was similar. She had taken time off from her previous employer on maternity leave. Rosie and Milly had sat Theo down and told him that when Sarah started work, he was not to associate or speak with her alone until she was settled — for at least three months.
‘But I won’t be here; I’ll be in Brooklyn,’ Theo had protested.
‘That includes the phone, Theo,’ stipulated Rosie. They didn’t want him arguing, berating and imposing his views on her as he had done with Milly when she began her employment in 2015.
On Monday, while Milly was in Scotland, Rosie would complete Sarah’s induction, and Milly would introduce Sarah to the list of clients on Tuesday. Theo had agreed to their proposal; he was bent
on his U.S. expansion.
Stopford called Milly; he would pick her up from Saint Albans Road at around 2:00 p.m. She might as well take up his offer of a ride now; he knew she was flying to Scotland. He was on a day off, having worked ten straight. He would fill Milly in on their progress so far in tracking down Nari’s killer when they drove to Heathrow. He had taken on the role of chaperone in his newfound concern for her welfare. I must protect my investment in time, he decided.
‘What other information do you have now, on how Nari died?’ asked Milly as Stopford drove onto the M25 to Heathrow.
‘There’s bits. I’ve already told you most of it.’
‘Please, Greg.’
‘As you wish; I’ll start at the beginning. She received a solid blow to the front of her head sometime after she answered the door.’
‘The front of her head?’
‘Her face, Milly.’
‘What sort of a blow?’
‘A punch, we think, at this stage.’ Milly thought of Sim Charles as Stopford continued. ‘We think she opened the door and then went to quickly close it when she saw who was there. There was no safety chain on the door, so they’ve jammed their foot in the door, pushed it open and punched her.’
‘Why would they punch her, Greg?’ asked Milly.
‘Probably because she resisted them by attempting to close the door … she may even have started screaming, although no one heard anything. In the ordinary course of things, they wouldn’t begin their assault until they were in the room with the door shut behind them, but it looks like she fought back.’