Deadly Terror (Detective Zoe Finch Book 4)

by Rachel McLean

  “Fair point.”

  The yard was full of junk. An old pushchair rusted against the wall. Bin liners were piled up, along with the rotting remains of a wooden bed.

  “They emptied the inside, but not all this,” she said.

  Next to them was a window into a back room. Zoe darted past it and into the corner where the wall to the main house met the wall to the kitchen, jutting out at the back. Her breath misted in front of her.

  No lights shone from the windows, no sounds came from inside.

  “Let’s try the back door,” Zoe said.

  Rhodri frowned at her but said nothing.

  She approached the back door and was about to put a hand on it when it moved. She sprang back, crashing into Rhodri.

  “Quick,” she hissed. She ducked down and dashed past the door, careful to keep low. Rhodri scuttled after her and they rounded the back of the house, flattening themselves against the kitchen’s back wall.

  “Someone’s in there,” Zoe whispered. “The door moved.”

  “Sure it wasn’t the wind?”

  She shook her head. “No wind. Look.” She blew out and her breath misted in front of her face, moving forwards.

  She heard the door opening around the corner. She pushed past Rhodri and peered around the corner into the side yard.

  A man emerged from the door, his back to them. He walked towards the gate and the alleyway beyond. It closed after him, on a spring.

  “Come on,” she whispered. She crept out from their hiding place, pausing to look into the kitchen. No movement. She pulled the gate open, hardly breathing. The man had left the alleyway.

  They ran to the front of the house, their footsteps light. The man paused on the pavement to light a cigarette. For a moment the lighter illuminated his face. He was white, with a face that looked like it had seen hard times, and a twisted nose.

  “I know him,” Zoe breathed.

  Rhodri nodded. “Kyle Gatiss.”

  “Let’s follow him.”

  Chapter Sixty-Four

  The man walked along the street to a black car. He pulled a key fob from his pocket and the indicator lights flashed. He got in the driver’s side.

  The car was a Mercedes, new-looking. It didn’t fit around here.

  “D’you think there’s anyone in there with him?” Rhodri asked.

  “With a car like that, could be any of them. Or could just be him. Come on.”

  They ran to Zoe’s car.

  “Watch him while I turn around,” she told Rhodri. He turned in his seat.

  “He’s moving,” Rhodri said. “Headed the other way.”

  “Right.” Zoe yanked hard on the steering wheel. “Good job this thing’s manoeuvrable.”

  She sped out of the parking space and turned the car in a smooth arc.

  “Nice,” said Rhodri.

  Zoe patted the steering wheel. “Who needs a response vehicle when you’ve got Longbridge’s finest?”

  “They don’t make them in Longbridge anymore.”

  “No.”

  The Mercedes was at the other end of the street. Zoe slowed as it turned out of the street, then sped up.

  “Shall I call for backup?” Rhodri asked.

  “Not yet. We’re just observing.”

  They pulled out of Curton Road and followed the car towards the inner ring road, Zoe careful to keep a few cars between her and her target. Her car stood out, a British racing green mini. But at least it didn’t look like a typical police vehicle.

  The Mercedes took the tunnels under the Bristol Road and Pershore Road and turned onto the Alcester Road, heading south.

  “Where d’you reckon he’s going?” asked Rhodri.

  “No idea.”

  “But we’re going to find out.”

  “We are, Rhodri. Just be patient.”

  “Did the sarge know Gatiss was involved with that brothel?”

  “Good point. Call him.”

  Rhodri grabbed his phone, his eyes on the road and the car they were following.

  “Sarge, sorry to disturb you.”

  Zoe glanced at him as he waited for Mo to reply.

  “We’ve just left the house on Curton Road you told us about,” Rhodri said. “Kyle Gatiss was inside. We’re following him. Currently on the Alcester Road, driving through Moseley.”

  Zoe heard Mo’s exclamation down the line. She smiled. So he hadn’t known.

  “Yes, Sarge… Yes, we’ll let you know. He’s just turned off Wake Green Road… Hang on, he’s stopping.”

  They were in Hall Green, on a wide street of large shabby houses. Zoe slowed as the Mercedes turned into a driveway. She drove past it as he stopped, pulling up a couple of houses further along.

  “The Belvista Hotel,” she said. Rhodri repeated the name into the phone then shook his head at her.

  She nodded. “Ask him if he needs me to call Sheila.”

  “He says he’ll do it. Wants us to watch and sit tight.”

  “OK.”

  “He says he means it, boss.”

  “Tell him to stop giving me orders.”

  Rhodri reddened. “Did you hear that, Sarge?” he said, his eyes on Zoe. She smiled.

  “He says it’s just advice, boss.”

  She grabbed the phone. “Thanks for the advice. We’ll be careful.”

  “They could be armed, Zo,” Mo said. “You don’t go in there without backup.”

  “And right now we have no reason to go in there anyway.”

  “No. Report back to me or Sheila and we’ll decide what to do. Probably put surveillance on the place.”

  “A woman from that brothel knows the New Street bomber,” she said.

  “All the more reason to be careful.”

  Zoe sighed. “Alright. I’ll call you later.”

  He made a humphing sound and hung up. Zoe opened her car door.

  “What are you doing?” Rhodri asked.

  “We can’t see anything from here.” She leaned back into the car, raising her eyebrows at him. “It’s OK. We’ll just observe.”

  She walked along the street, glad of the darkness and the heavy clouds. A light drizzle had started to fall and the street was deserted. The hotel was in darkness, the Mercedes parked next to a battered Renault.

  She looked at the building. It was run down, windows boarded up and weeds growing in the driveway. She didn’t imagine it did much trade with holidaymakers.

  Rhodri was behind her. “Should we stop here?”

  “Yes. This is a good spot.”

  He breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Stay behind this wall,” she told him. “Keep an eye on that Merc.”

  He nodded. She leaned forward, trying to get a better view.

  The front door to the hotel opened and the man emerged. He was lit by a lamp over the doorway, his features unmistakeable. Zoe had come across Gatiss before. He was part of the organised crime group they’d targeted in the Canary investigation into child abuse, and he was connected to Trevor Hamm, who she believed Randle was working for. They’d never managed to pin anything on Gatiss. Maybe now they would. Or on his bosses.

  He held a woman by the arm. She was short with sleek dark hair, expensively dressed. She didn’t look like a woman Zoe would expect to see working here.

  The woman jerked out of his grip and shouted at him. She had an Eastern European accent.

  Gatiss growled at the woman and pushed her down the steps leading from the hotel. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her to the Mercedes. Zoe shrank back, holding her breath.

  Gatiss opened the back door to the car and shoved the woman inside. He slammed the door shut and got into the driver’s seat.

  “What now?” said Rhodri. “We follow him?”

  Zoe pushed her thumbnail into her palm. They could stay here, find out if the woman who’d received that photo was inside. Or they could follow Gatiss and see where he took them.

  “Come on,” she said. “Quick.”

  Chapter Sixty-Five<
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  “You cannot treat me like this,” Sofia growled from the back seat.

  Kyle looked at her in the rearview mirror. “Put your seatbelt on.”

  “Where are you taking me?”

  “Home, of course. The boss has been wondering where you’d got to.”

  She sneered at him, full of contempt. She’d fled from the woman who she’d spoken to, the mad woman who accused her of ruining her own sister’s life. She’d found a place to hide in the hotel, a laundry cupboard in the basement. Twice someone had come in and she’d had to cover herself with linen.

  She’d waited for hours, trying to ignore the fact she needed to use the toilet. When the light from the high basement window had darkened she’d emerged, looking for Andreea.

  There had been no sign of her sister. And when she’d run outside, there’d been no sign of Titi’s car.

  She’d gone back into the hotel, heading upstairs and standing outside the door that the woman had come out from. She was scared to talk to the women in this place. When they’d started to emerge from the rooms and clatter downstairs, she’d hidden again in a bathroom. She’d left the door open a crack, keeping an eye out for Andreea. Eventually she’d decided she had to leave, to get back to the house before her boyfriend missed her. As she descended the stairs, she’d been confronted by Kyle standing at the front door.

  One of the women had spotted her, and a phone call had been made.

  “You’re gonna be in so much trouble.” Kyle gave her a hard smile in the rearview mirror. “It’ll be like Irina all over again.”

  “Who is Irina?”

  “Was. She died.”

  Sofia felt a chill flood through her. “Tell me, who is Irina?”

  “Ask Trevor.” He adjusted the rearview mirror. “Shit.”

  “What?”

  “Hold on.” The car accelerated and she felt herself pinned to the seat. She grasped the leather, her heart racing. Kyle’s eyes flicked between the road ahead and the mirror.

  Sofia turned in her seat.

  “Stay down,” he said. He jerked the steering wheel and they turned sharp left, into a quiet road full of modern houses.

  “Where do we go?”

  “Shut up.” He sped up, throwing the car around a bend and then another. After they’d taken four turns at speed, he slowed. His eyes were on the mirror.

  She turned to look out of the back window.

  “I said stop that. Keep down.” Kyle’s voice was harsh.

  Sofia’s breath was shaky. “What happened?”

  The car pulled to a halt. Kyle sat with his fingertips on the steering wheel, his eyes on the mirror. His pupils were dilated.

  “I lost them,” he said.

  “Who?”

  “Never you mind.” He indicated to pull out and started to drive, at a steady pace this time.

  Chapter Sixty-Six

  “Where is he?” Zoe yelled. She turned her head from right to left, scanning side streets as they passed them. “What happened to him?”

  “We lost him, boss.”

  She slapped the steering wheel. “Damn.”

  Rhodri shuddered. “Sorry.”

  “Not your fault. Seems my Mini isn’t all that surreptitious after all.”

  “What now?”

  “I need to tell Mo about the hotel. They’ll clean it out, now we know we’re onto them.” She gave the wheel a heavy whack. “Shit. And we don’t know if the owner of that Facebook account is in there. Connie can follow that up, see if she can get an IP address or something.”

  She dialled Mo and got his voicemail. “Mo, it’s Zoe. Call me back, it’s urgent.” She slumped in the seat. “I’m pissed off about this.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Where d’you think he was heading?”

  “He could have taken us the wrong way.”

  “Yeah.” She stared ahead. The rain was picking up, spray rebounding off the road. “We’re in…”

  “Edge of Solihull,” Rhodri said.

  “Not too far from the airport.”

  “No.”

  They came to the M42. To take Rhodri back to the station, she’d have to double back at the roundabout. For the airport, it was a left turn.

  “Call Connie, will you Rhod?”

  He nodded and picked up his phone. “Con, it’s Rhodri… yeah… sorry. Look, I’m out past Solihull with the boss...”

  Zoe turned left, heading for the airport, as Rhodri filled Connie in. When he hung up, they were leaving the motorway again.

  “She’s going to see what she can find,” he said.

  “Good.” She eyed the clock. “It’s getting late. We’ll see if we can find DS Uddin, then I can drop you home.”

  “I’m the other side of the city, boss. It’s OK, I’ll stick around.”

  “Fair enough.” Her phone rang: Mo.

  “Mo, are you at the airport?”

  “We left about an hour ago. I’ve just got home.”

  Zoe gritted her teeth. “I need to talk to you. It’s the brothel on Curton Road.”

  “What about it?”

  “We saw Kyle Gattis there.”

  Chapter Sixty-Seven

  “Get upstairs, now!”

  Titi stood in the hallway to the house. His face was red and a blood vessel throbbed on his temple.

  Sofia forced herself to stand tall in front of him. He couldn’t talk to her like this.

  “I am hungry,” she said. “Where is Mrs Brooking?”

  “Mrs Brooking has gone home for the night, and a bloody good job too. I don’t want her knowing what you’ve done.”

  Sofia shook her head. “I did nothing wrong.”

  He clenched his fist and she flinched. “Go on then. Go in the fucking kitchen. Get yourself some food, if you’re so hungry.”

  She looked up the stairs. Perhaps she would be better off up there. She could lock herself in the bathroom.

  He looked past her to where Kyle stood on the doorstep, his expression unruffled. Kyle had seen this kind of thing before, she realised.

  “Kitchen!” he hissed. Sofia walked past him and opened the fridge door.

  She gazed into it, her mind dull. There was a plate covered in clingfilm: for her, or for Titi? What would he do, if she ate something Mrs Brooking had left for him?

  Trevor was talking to Kyle in the hallway. Getting a report on what she’d done, she assumed. She stepped towards the doorway, her senses on fire. She heard the word ‘police’.

  Her mouth fell open. Kyle had been trying to lose a police tail?

  She hurried to the far side of the room and leaned her face on the glazed doors to the garden. It was dark outside, faint LED lights illuminating a path that led down to a pond.

  Were the police watching Kyle? Or her boyfriend? Did it have anything to do with Andreea’s disappearance?

  She heard a plate being slammed onto the marble worktop. She turned to see Titi peeling the clingfilm off it. He wrinkled his nose and pushed the plate away.

  “You can have this,” he sneered. She approached him, her arm outstretched for the plate.

  As she was about to take it, he grabbed her hand. She yelped.

  “How did you get there? Who took you?”

  “No one. No one took me.”

  He shook her hand. She gritted her teeth. His fingernails dug into her flesh.

  “I hid. In car.”

  “Which car? My car?”

  She nodded. Her chest felt tight.

  “You hid in the car when Kyle was driving.”

  “No. When you were driving. Please, Titi. Not Kyle’s fault.”

  “Don’t fucking call me that.” He glared at her. “When?”

  “Morning. When you leave for work.”

  He let out a breath. “No wonder Mrs Brooking couldn’t find you.” He jerked her hand up to his face. “You stupid woman, what were you doing?”

  “I wanted to find Andreea.”

  “You know where Andreea is. I brought her here, last n
ight. We had dinner, it was very civilised. You should be grateful.”

  “Yes. I am grateful. Very grateful. It was good to see her.”

  He let go of her hand, pushing her into the worktop. She fell against it, winded.

  “Titi? Trevor?”

  “What?”

  “Where is she? Why you not let me see her?”

  “She’s busy.” He leaned towards her, hot breath gusting into her face. “Don’t you understand that, or d’you think every woman sits on her arse all day doing fuck all except shopping and touching up her nail varnish?”

  “You like me to shop. You give me money. I get job, if you prefer.”

  “What job would you do?”

  “I am trained barista. I get job in coffee shop.”

  He laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous. You stay here, where I can keep an eye on you.”

  She forced out a breath. “Yes. Sorry.”

  “Sorry.” He turned away from her. “That’s all you seem to say lately. Maybe I’ll just send you back to Romania.”

  She thought of what Kyle had said in the car: Irina. Trevor’s dead – what? His girlfriend? His wife? She stepped towards him. She put a hand on his back. It was hard.

  “No. Please. I like it here.”

  He turned to her, his eyes narrow. “Maybe I’ll put you to work, like your sister. See how you like that.”

  She shrugged. “I want you to be happy, honeybun. I do what you want.”

  Chapter Sixty-Eight

  “See you in the morning, Rhod.”

  Zoe drove away from Northfield station. She’d left Rhodri to get the train across town and was heading to Mo’s.

  She hit hands-free and dialled Ian. She hadn’t heard from him since he’d gone for his interview with Carl. Maybe he was back at the office, with the constables. She should have gone inside. She was his line manager: she owed it to him to check how his interview had gone.

  “This is DS Ian Osman. I can’t take y—”

  She hung up. Where was he? It was almost seven, maybe he’d gone home.

  She called the office.

  “Boss, everything OK?”