by Emma Tallon
‘James is on his way in with the camera to take photos to run through the system,’ he said, holding the police tape up for his boss to duck under.
Sarah greeted the forensics with a nod. She was familiar with them both – in turn, they were used to working with her and trusted her instincts. Good, she thought. The situation was nicely manipulatable.
As she reached the body, she was careful to react in an exaggerated manner, raising her eyebrows and making a sound of surprise. She squinted at Sammy’s face again, as if double-checking something.
‘Ma’am?’ Dan asked, his keen brown eyes darting back and forth between Sarah’s face and Sammy’s.
Sarah sighed wearily, as if this was the last thing she needed today. ‘There’s no need to run photos through the system, Dan. This is Samuel Winters. Bookkeeper by day, known associate of several criminal firms by night.’ She was cautious to make his criminal association vague rather than tie him directly to the Tylers.
‘Oh.’ Dan glanced at Sammy again. ‘Convictions?’ he asked.
‘None that stuck,’ Sarah replied in what she hoped was a resentful tone. ‘But he’s been on our radar many times.’ She turned and rolled her eyes at one of the forensics. ‘Just another mob fall-out, it would seem. And they chose their location well.’ She gazed up into the trees. ‘All this foliage would no doubt have muffled the sound, especially if they used a silencer.’ She knelt down next to Sammy’s body and inspected the scene she had laid just hours before. ‘Bullet still inside by the looks of it.’ She straightened back up. ‘I want him moved to autopsy as quickly as possible.’
‘OK, I can get some more feet on the ground here to make this quicker…’ Dan reached for his phone by Sarah stopped him.
‘No. These guys know what they’re doing.’ She smiled at the forensics. ‘See if you can find anything, but I doubt you will. If it’s a professional killing, which I’m almost certain it is, they’d have taken precautions. You’ve seen it before, Mac. If we’re going to find anything, it will be on the body.’
The older of the two forensics nodded in agreement and she saw the veil of resignation fall over his eyes. Mac had been on several of her cases where nothing had been found at the scene, so it was a fair assumption. He wouldn’t bother looking too hard now, she was sure of it.
‘Hey,’ she said, as if just realising something. ‘Mac, you’re on the team over at that building site, right?’
He nodded. ‘Yeah, right mess that one is. Going to take weeks to get all the remains together. I heard you were put on it.’
‘How much more have you found?’ she asked.
‘Some bone fragments, clothes. There are tools nearby too. By the looks of what was there the guy could have been the one rigging the place. Might be that he pressed the detonator by mistake before he got out. I never did believe the story the building company told. Who blows a half-built building in the middle of the night?’
Sarah nodded and made a sound of agreement. She’d looked into it, after her conversation with Anna. The owner of the building company had gone to great lengths to cover it up, even spinning an elaborate tale to the client whose building it was, about water pipes and damaged foundations which had forced them to pull it down and start again. He might have even got away with it, had Aleksei not been found by one of the workers clearing the rubble. Now, the owner was in more trouble than he would have been if he’d just been honest in the first place. He’d been arrested the day before and she was due to question him in an hour.
She felt sorry for the guy, if she was honest with herself; he was just an ordinary businessman whose site had been caught up in something that was nothing to do with him. But she knew she had to push these feelings aside. If the worst came to the worst and Aleksei was identified despite her best efforts, she might need to use him as a scapegoat.
‘Thanks, Mac. I’ll see you over there later this afternoon, yeah?’
‘Sure thing,’ he replied.
‘Come on then, let’s go back to the station, get the team together,’ Sarah said to Dan, walking back down the beaten path to where she’d left her car. As they reached the mouth of the road, she pointed to the large houses set back behind the trees. ‘Go knock and ask about their security cameras before you get in your car,’ she instructed. She eyed the treeline in the light of day, checking once more that she hadn’t missed anything. ‘I doubt they will show anything over here, they appear to be trained on the house and drive, but you never know.’
‘Yes, ma’am. Oh, and ma’am?’ Dan asked as she unlocked her car.
‘Hm?’ she turned back towards him with an eyebrow raised in question.
Dan cleared his throat and pulled himself up to his full, rather short, height. ‘I just want to say thanks. For the opportunity, I mean.’
Sarah smiled, the first genuine smile she’d given in days. ‘This is your first murder case, right?’
‘Yeah.’ He grinned back, a slight flush colouring his young cheeks. ‘I didn’t expect to get something so big so quickly, being a new DI. So just wanted to say thanks. And that I won’t let you down.’
Sarah forced herself not to laugh. The very fact that he was as wet behind the ears as a new puppy was exactly why she’d requested him on this case. He was the least senior second-in-command she could get away with. It had been just one week since his promotion to DI. He’d follow her lead without question and that was exactly what she needed.
‘Oh, I know you won’t, Dan,’ Sarah said slipping into her car and starting the engine. ‘I know you won’t.’
Fifty-Three
Freddie kicked at the pile of dirty washing on the floor of the small room Jim had been renting. The whole flat was dingy, but this room was the worst. The wallpaper peeled off the tobacco-stained walls and patches of damp were visible in the corners. The smell of the damp permeated the room and the sound of music and people arguing boomed through from the flat next door. ‘I wouldn’t stay here if someone paid me,’ Paul muttered, looking around with disgust.
The bedsheets were rumpled and grubby and half pulled off the mattress, and a rotting apple core had been left on the pillow. Freddie turned away, sickened that anyone could live like this. It didn’t cost a thing to keep things clean and tidy.
‘It doesn’t look like he’s been back here,’ he said eventually. He rifled through an disorganised pile of papers and magazines on the desk. At the bottom of the pile there was a slim wallet with a zipped top. Freddie looked inside. There was around a hundred pounds in notes and change. It was probably all Jim had left of his weekly wedge. It was highly unlikely he would have forgotten that if he had made a trip back.
Freddie turned back around and put his leather-gloved hands on his hips, perplexed. ‘Where the fuck is he?’ he wondered aloud.
Paul shook his head. ‘Not a clue. He hasn’t got any friends or family around here and he hasn’t gone to hospital.’
‘Unless he checked in under a fake name.’
‘Possible,’ Paul conceded. ‘But the bird on the front desk at the nearest A & E didn’t have any recollection of a man missing fingers.’ He’d claimed concern for a friend who’d lost fingers in a machinery accident in an attempt to find out if Jim had checked in, but the receptionist had no details of anyone with missing extremities.
‘She took quite a shine to you, that one,’ Freddie recalled with a chuckle.
Paul grinned. ‘Yeah. Shame she ain’t my type.’ They both laughed.
The smile faded from Paul’s face as this reference to the dating world reminded him of his ex, James. He still missed him a lot.
‘Come on,’ Freddie said. ‘There’s nothing to be found here.’ Jim had very little to his name, as was to be expected of someone who’d just been inside for as long as he had.
As they walked back out of the door, someone quickly pulled back and shot around the corner. Freddie was quick off the mark and chased the eavesdropper down the hall. He swiftly caught up with the skinny young man and grasped
the back of his hoody, twisting him round and slamming him up against the wall. He grabbed his neck in a vice-like grip and began to squeeze. The young man struggled helplessly under Freddie’s grasp and his eyes widened in panic.
‘Who the fuck are you and why were you listening at that door?’ Freddie demanded.
‘I – I wasn’t,’ he squeaked.
Freddie pulled him off the wall and slammed him back against it once more, harder this time. ‘Try again,’ he growled.
‘OK, OK!’ The man held his hands up in surrender. ‘Please, I can’t breathe.’
Freddie loosened his grip but still held him firm. ‘Start talking.’
‘I was just trying to work out if he was coming back soon, that’s all.’ His thin voice shook in fear. ‘This is my flat, he owes me rent.’
With a sigh Freddie dropped him. The man stumbled forward, rubbing his neck. Freddie looked at Paul. ‘Another dead end then,’ he said resentfully.
‘We could try The Black Bear again, see if anyone’s heard rumours,’ Paul suggested.
‘Might as well,’ Freddie responded. He doubted there would be anything of value there either, but they didn’t have any better ideas. He turned back to the terrified man he had just held against the wall and stared at him menacingly. ‘You tell that fucker – if he does come back here – that we’re looking for him. And that his days are numbered.’
‘Wh-who should I say left the message?’ the man stammered.
Freddie’s expression darkened as he began to walk away. ‘Oh, he’ll know,’ he called over his shoulder. ‘He’ll know.’
Fifty-Four
Freddie sat opposite Bill in his usual booth at The Black Bear pub and stared into his pint glass. He still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that Sammy was gone. It still felt as though his best friend was about to walk through the door any minute to join them.
‘I um…’ Bill sighed unhappily. ‘I can go and sort things out at the bookies. I know the system, since I put it in. I can keep things ticking over there until you decide what’s to be done long term.’
‘Thanks, Bill,’ Freddie replied. ‘I appreciate it.’ He knew he was going to have to sort out a replacement for Sammy there, some sort of manager at least, but he just couldn’t think about that yet. Perhaps after the funeral, whenever they were able to get Sammy’s body back to do that.
Where usually there would be music playing in the pub, there was just silence, as a mark of respect. Everyone in their world already knew about Sammy, either the truth or the news version of it. His death had been reported a few hours earlier. Apparently, a morning jogger called Jane had been the first to come across him and had decided to extend the fifteen minutes of drama by calling the local news station. It had spread through London’s journalist community like wildfire.
Freddie heard the front door of the pub open but didn’t bother to turn around. Bill looked up and annoyance flashed across his face. Freddie shot him a questioning look, but Bill turned his gaze away as whoever it was approached their back-corner booth. Freddie turned with a frown.
‘Mr Tyler, Mr Hanlon.’ Sophia greeted them with relaxed smile. ‘How are you both?’
‘We’ve had better days, Ms Ivanov,’ Freddie answered. ‘What are you doing here? This doesn’t strike me as your kind of scene.’ He was curious. He couldn’t imagine what business she could have in The Black Bear at this time of day, and he hadn’t told anyone where he was so she couldn’t be here for him.
‘I was driving past and noticed your car outside. I thought I would come in and see if you were available to discuss how things are going,’ she replied.
Freddie nodded slowly. ‘I’m sorry but I won’t be conducting any business today. You’re welcome to stay for a drink, though.’ He knew they still needed to iron out a few small points with regard to the gun-runs, but he couldn’t think straight right now. He had enough on his plate with Sammy gone, his killer at large and Jim still out there somewhere. They had wracked their brains for ideas of where to look next, but the truth was the trail had gone oddly cold.
‘Is something wrong?’ Sophia asked. She cocked her head to one side and her perfectly arched eyebrows furrowed into a frown of concern.
Freddie looked down to the beer mat he was twisting around in his fingers, his tone matter-of-fact, masking his pain. ‘One of our men was found dead, up at Hampstead Heath. We need to sort a few things out, but we’ll be back to business as usual tomorrow.’
‘Oh dear, I’m so sorry to hear that.’ Sophia took care to widen her eyes in surprise and to add a note of concern to her tone. ‘What happened?’
Freddie looked up and met her gaze, searching her eyes for any sign of possible knowledge. In a situation like this where there was no obvious culprit, he had to consider everyone around them. ‘We’re not sure yet. He was shot in the back of the head.’ He waited to see if there was a reaction. Sophia didn’t flinch but she did shake her head in pity. Perhaps being married to Aleksei for so long had numbed her reaction to things like this. It was a reasonable assumption.
‘Well, I hope you find out what happened soon. It’s not good for enemies to be running around unchecked,’ she replied. She twisted her mouth to one side as if thinking about something. ‘I’ll get Ali to ask around the Russian community, though I doubt it would have had anything to do with them.’
‘And why do you doubt that?’ Bill chimed in.
‘Because, Mr Hanlon, if it were anything to do with us Russians, I would have heard about it.’ She smiled sweetly at him, a slight challenge in her eyes. ‘Anyway…’ She turned her attention back to Freddie. ‘I shall leave you in peace.’
‘Let’s get together over the next few days and we can go over things then,’ Freddie offered. The gun-running was a lucrative business for them both. He didn’t want to let things slip too much.
‘I’ll be in touch.’ With a smile and a nod, Sophia turned and walked out, Ali following dutifully behind. As she walked, her smile grew. Jim was right. They had absolutely no clue that she had been the one to kill Sammy, nor that she had every intention of making sure Freddie and Paul met the same fate.
Freddie studied Bill’s face as the other man watched the pair leave. ‘You don’t trust her,’ he stated.
‘Do you?’ Bill asked. He waited but Freddie didn’t answer. He shook his head with a sigh. ‘I don’t think getting into bed with the Russians is a good idea at any point, but especially not her.’
‘Because of Aleksei?’
‘Well, yes, there’s that. But there’s also just something off about her. She has this way, that…’ Bill grimaced, trying to work out how to explain it. ‘It’s like her reactions are always a second too late. Like she has to work out what emotion to show before she acts it out. It ain’t natural.’
Freddie nodded. He knew what Bill meant. He’d seen it before, in his youngest brother, Michael. The brother who had turned out to be a cold-blooded psychopath. But that wasn’t necessarily a reason not to work with Sophia. When you lived and worked in the dark, illicit underground world of London, you had to work with all sorts of dangerous or unsavoury people. A certain level of coldness was a good thing in a new business partner, in Freddie’s opinion. They had stronger stomachs when times got rough. So this wasn’t a deterrent.
‘And Sammy,’ Bill continued. ‘He was shot.’
‘And?’
‘And, who has ample access to a large range of guns?’ he asked, leaning in towards Freddie. ‘Don’t you think it’s a little bit suspicious?’
‘Anyone can get hold of a gun on the black market, you know that,’ Freddie responded.
‘Yes, but that don’t mean they do. I’ve been thinking about it. If this was a bodged robbery, they’re more likely to have taken knives, right? Statistically speaking, here in London.’ Bill leaned back and took a sip of his pint. ‘And if it was another firm looking to pay him back for something they wouldn’t have done him in your office. They’d have taken him somewhere and we’
d have never seen him again.’
Freddie took a sip of his own pint as he thought it over. Bill had a point. It didn’t mean it was likely to be Sophia, but there was an element of logic to his argument.
‘I don’t think it’s Sophia. What would she have to gain by taking Sammy out? It makes no sense.’ Freddie chewed his bottom lip as he mulled it over. ‘Who else would favour a gun, who might have had an issue with Sammy? Or, if your original robbery theory is correct, who would tool up with guns for a late-night break-in?’
‘That’s just it though, Freddie, I can’t think of anyone. And no one has heard anything either.’ They fell into silence for a few minutes until Bill changed the subject. ‘You got any further with Jim?’
‘No,’ Freddie said, his expression darkening. ‘We’ve searched everywhere we can think of, but there’s nothing. And at the site itself there was a trail of blood that went halfway down the road but then it just stopped. He must have been picked up, but by who we can’t work out. He doesn’t exactly have a lot of friends.’
‘And you’re sure there are no cameras anywhere close? Nothing I can look into?’ Bill asked, although he already knew the answer.
‘No. It’s why we bought the damn place,’ Freddie responded, pulling a face. ‘No one can trail you within two miles of it. And even then, it’s patchy.’
‘Well, he’s got to be somewhere. He can’t have just vanished. Especially in his condition, he’ll be in agony.’
‘Good,’ Freddie growled as the hatred he felt for Jim flowed through his veins. ‘I wish that cunt the worst pain imaginable whilst he’s on the run. And I can assure you, what he’s going through now will seem like a happy memory compared to what he’s going to suffer when I finally catch up with him.’
Fifty-Five
Sarah peered closer at her laptop screen and squinted. She rewound the footage and watched the brief few seconds that the shooter’s arm came into view again. Her finger paused as it played out, then she clicked the back button again several more times. As the arm holding the gun pulled up into view, she hit pause and sat back.