Deep Cover

by Leigh Russell

  ‘Murder?’ Nick repeated, sounding shocked. ‘Who said anything about murder?’

  ‘You were Tod’s bodyguard?’ Jack asked him.

  ‘What the fuck?’ He glared at Ian. ‘You bloody well know I was. You were there.’ He muttered something insulting under his breath. ‘But I never popped anyone. So what the fuck am I doing here? What do you want with me?’ His voice rose in agitation. ‘I’m innocent, I tell you. Whoever’s been handy with a shooter, it wasn’t me. I’m the victim here! He wanted me shot. You know that. You heard him. I haven’t done anything. You can’t keep me here. I want a lawyer. I don’t even know why I’m here. I don’t get what’s happening. You should be after Tod, not me.’

  Ignoring the outburst, Jack continued. ‘You haven’t been arrested. You’re free to walk out of here any time you like. Go on, be my guest. But if you leave here, how long do you think it will be before Tod catches up with you, once he knows you escaped? Or my colleague here might decide to slug you like Tod wanted to protect his own cover. He can do that. Why should he risk falling out with Tod? For what? For you?’

  ‘But if you prefer to walk away from this in one piece,’ Ian said, ‘you need to start helping us with our enquiries. We can protect you from Tod. Don’t be a moron. Do you want to end up at the bottom of the river?’

  ‘Oh yeah? I can walk out of here, can I? And I can go back to the boss and tell him you’re filth,’ Nick retorted, glaring at Ian.

  Despite his attempted bravado, he was obviously terrified.

  ‘My colleague isn’t from around here,’ Jack said quietly. ‘No one apart from me and one other trusted colleague knows his real identity. Once this is over, he’s going away and Tod will never find him, not with the protection we can offer him. But you… well, you’re a different matter altogether. Quite honestly, with the pitiful resources at your disposal, I don’t think you’d last five minutes now Tod wants you dead. You can take your chances if you like, but you’ll be on your own out there, just you against the wealth and power of your former boss. He’ll start by paying off all your friends and associates, then he’ll find your family. Only he won’t treat them so well. Or you can co-operate with us and we’ll protect you and make sure nothing happens to you or anyone close to you. What’s it to be, Nick? Only time’s running out and I need an answer now.’

  ‘OK, OK, I’ll co-operate. But I can’t help you. Tod didn’t exactly confide in me.’

  ‘You must have seen or heard something,’ Ian said.

  Nick shrugged. ‘Like what? What do you want to know?’

  ‘How long were you working for Tod?’

  Nick drew in a deep breath before answering. ‘About three months, but after a couple of months I wanted out. I’d been employed as a security guard before, but working for Tod was very different to what I was used to.’

  ‘How was it different?’

  The young man was sweating, although the room was cool. Ian watched him closely as he replied.

  ‘What he was after was a heavy. Protection, you know? He hadn’t asked me to silence anyone, not yet, but I knew what was going down. I’m not a complete donut, though it was dense of me to go and work for him, I see that now. But how was I supposed to know what was going on there?’

  ‘What was going on?’ Ian asked.

  Nick grunted and scowled at Ian. ‘You know. You were there. He wanted you to put a bullet in my head, didn’t he? That’s what he’s like. He’s brutal. Look, when I went to work for him, I took on the job as his bodyguard, not as an iceman.’

  ‘Why would he need a bodyguard?’ Ian asked.

  ‘I don’t know, do I? I didn’t ask him. I just took the job. He was minted and generous and it was double what I’d been getting as a bouncer.’

  ‘And you didn’t find that suspicious?’ Jack asked.

  ‘What do you mean, suspicious?’

  ‘That he was willing to pay you so much? Didn’t you stop to wonder what he wanted for his money?’

  ‘No. I thought he wanted protection, and it made sense that a rich guy would be prepared to stack the decks for that if he was feeling threatened.’

  ‘Who was he being threatened by?’ Jack pressed him, but Nick shook his head.

  It was becoming apparent that Nick knew very little about Tod’s operations.

  ‘Who were his associates?’ Ian asked.

  ‘I only saw the runners who brought the charlie and smack into the office. I wasn’t involved in meeting and greeting the mules and body packers who brought the stuff into the country. And I never saw any of the big players apart from Tod. I couldn’t even tell you who they are.’

  ‘Did you ever hear him talking on the phone in the three months you were working there?’ Jack asked.

  Nick shook his head. ‘Most of the time I was outside his door, just waiting there in case any shit went down.’

  ‘Who were you waiting for?’

  ‘I don’t know. No one in particular. When the runners arrived, it was my job to search them for weapons before they went into the office. I had to check their bags and give them a shakedown before I let them past me.’

  ‘Did you see any drugs inside their bags?’ Ian asked.

  ‘Yeah, I saw plenty. Mostly charlie but smack too, and plenty of dope and pills. You name it.’ His eyes softened. ‘He had a right mother lode right there in his office. But the product was never there for long. He shifted it out as soon as it came in. I wasn’t involved in that part of the organisation and I don’t know where he sent it. He had a lot of runners working for him, as well as a lot of hustlers, and that’s all I can tell you.’

  ‘Either he doesn’t know anything or else he’s a very cool customer,’ Jack said when Nick had been returned to a cell.

  ‘He seemed pretty rattled to me,’ Ian replied.

  ‘Ah yes, but was he scared of us or of Tod? Is it possible this whole business of telling you to kill Nick is a set-up to flush us out? Think carefully, Ian. Was there any reason for Tod to become suspicious of you?’

  Ian shook his head. ‘I don’t think so. But there’s only one way to find out for sure.’

  Jack nodded to show he understood. ‘What if we’re wrong and he knows who you are?’

  Ian shrugged. ‘That’s a risk we’ll have to take.’

  Jack stared at him. ‘It’s a huge risk,’ he said at last. ‘If we’re wrong, they’re not going to treat you gently when you return and we may not get to you in time. If they move you before you have a chance to alert us, you’ll be dead… or worse. You do understand what I’m saying? These characters will tear you apart, piece by piece, inject you with mind-altering drugs, and I won’t be able to help you.’

  ‘All right, enough. I get the picture. But are you ever going to have another opportunity like this to get inside Tod’s organisation and bust him? If I can convince Tod I killed Nick, he’ll trust me and then I can start listening in and gathering evidence so we can make a watertight case against him when we raid the club. But he has to be convinced that Nick is really dead, which means that he can’t surface again, ever.’

  ‘Leave that to me. We’ll mock something up so you have evidence to prove Nick’s dead. A splash of tomato ketchup on his chest and some white powder on his face – that should do the trick. Don’t look so worried. It’ll look convincing. I’ll send you an image to show Tod. We’ll do it in the back of a van. And after that we’ll keep Nick behind bars until this is all over.’

  Ian nodded. ‘Is that really fair on Nick? Locking him up without a trial?’

  ‘What’s not fair about it?’ Jack replied. ‘We’re saving his life, aren’t we? I just hope it won’t be at the cost of yours,’ he added softly.

  13

  Eileen glared around the room with her customary ferocity.

  ‘Is she always this dour?’ Matthew muttered to Geraldine who was standing beside
him.

  Geraldine didn’t answer. Matthew’s light-hearted comments reminded her of Ian when they had first met, before his disastrous marriage to his childhood sweetheart. In those days Ian had been young and carefree and his laidback attitude had irritated her. After all, dealing with serious crime, their job was not to be taken lightly. But she had come to understand that Ian’s cheerful exterior masked a deeply sensitive and loving person. With an effort she turned her attention to the detective chief inspector who was addressing the assembled officers.

  ‘We cannot possibly trace all the men who had relations with Pansy,’ Eileen was saying. ‘Most of them were probably casual encounters, and goodness only knows how many of them there were over the years. We don’t even have any way of finding out if she had any regular punters, anyone she might have had a relationship with.’

  ‘Didn’t she have a pimp?’ a constable asked. ‘Most working girls like to have someone looking out for them.’

  Another constable cracked a joke about how his male colleague seemed to know a lot about sex workers.

  Eileen ignored the interruption. ‘We’ve been in contact with the vice squad, and they managed to uncover a name for us,’ she said. ‘It’s not certain, but they believe her pimp was a man called Borneo. Unfortunately, he died from an overdose last month, since when Pansy seems to have been operating independently as far as we can ascertain. Someone else has just moved into Borneo’s flat now, but we still went in, and luckily we were there before the bins were emptied. The search team found a list of names that had been thrown out which could be useful.’

  ‘Was it a coincidence she was murdered so soon after her pimp died?’ Matthew asked.

  ‘It’s possible one of her regular customers knew she was unprotected and took advantage of her solitary status,’ Eileen said, ‘or they could both have been killed by someone who wanted them dead, perhaps to protect their own identity. Who knows? Without more information, this is all speculation. We don’t even know if she had any regular customers. So far, we know very little about her life. And very little about her death,’ she added miserably.

  ‘What about the other names on Borneo’s list? Might they know something?’ Geraldine asked.

  Once again, Eileen could only shrug her shoulders.

  Geraldine went to question other sex workers on Borneo’s list, although they might not have known Pansy, and it was doubtful whether any of them would be able to help. The vice squad supplied Geraldine with a list of names and addresses with which to begin her enquiries. She drove along Gillygate, her wipers working furiously against the icy sleet that had begun to fall, and stopped outside a large house allegedly shared by a number of sex workers who had all enjoyed the protection of Pansy’s former pimp. The door was opened by a statuesque woman in a magenta kimono. Geraldine imagined Cleopatra might have looked something like the woman who stared imperiously back at her with dark eyes ringed in heavy black kohl. Her hair had been scraped back off her face, emphasising her prominent cheek bones and pointed nose, and there was something magnificent about her.

  ‘Yes?’ she said, in a surprisingly deep voice. ‘What do you want?’

  Her expression darkened when she saw Geraldine’s identity card and she took a step back, her haughtiness crumbling.

  ‘Did you know a woman called Pansy?’ Geraldine asked.

  The woman’s eyes narrowed. ‘Why? What’s happened to her?’ she demanded.

  A voice called out from somewhere inside the house, and the woman on the doorstep shouted back. ‘It’s the police here, asking about Pansy.’

  ‘I’m afraid Pansy’s dead,’ Geraldine said quietly.

  ‘Bloody hell. What happened? And,’ she went on, sounding frightened, ‘what are you doing here? What do you want with us?’

  A slight blonde woman appeared at her side.

  ‘Pansy’s copped it,’ the statuesque woman said.

  ‘What’s she doing here?’ her companion asked. She looked at Geraldine. ‘Are you the police?’

  ‘We’re investigating the circumstances of Pansy’s death,’ Geraldine explained, displaying her identity card again. ‘We’re afraid it might not have been an accident.’

  ‘You mean she was murdered?’ the blonde sex worker asked, a frown creasing her face. ‘Bloody hell.’

  ‘Occupational hazard,’ the other woman said sourly. ‘I hope you get the bastard who did for her.’

  ‘We’re doing our best,’ Geraldine assured them. ‘We were hoping you might have some information for us.’

  ‘You’d better come in then,’ the blonde woman said with an uneasy glance at her companion. ‘You can’t stand out there all day. You’ll freeze to death. And we’re losing heat with the door wide open. I’m Honey and she’s Morag.’

  They stood aside to let Geraldine enter a hall that smelt of air freshener and perfume.

  ‘We’ll do what we can to help you track down whoever did her in,’ Honey volunteered. ‘But she wasn’t really one of us. She liked to keep to herself.’

  ‘It could be one of us next,’ Morag said.

  They led Geraldine into a well-furnished living room, where they sat down on comfortable armchairs. Without going into any details, Geraldine explained where Pansy’s body had been discovered, face down in the mud.

  ‘We’re not sure yet what happened to her,’ she concluded. ‘In fact, we have very few leads, but we suspect she might have been killed by a violent customer.’

  There was no need to reveal that Pansy’s body had been moved after she died. Given that someone had been keen to cover up the location of her death, it was fairly safe to assume she had been murdered. But the details of her death had not yet been disclosed, and there was no way of knowing how discreet these two women would be.

  ‘Do you have any idea who might have been regular customers of Pansy’s?’ she asked.

  The two sex workers shook their heads. ‘No, I’m sorry,’ Honey replied. ‘We didn’t really mix with Pansy. We only knew about her through our pimp.’

  ‘He would have known about her,’ Morag said. ‘But he’s dead. We don’t talk much about our work with girls we don’t really know. Pansy wasn’t one of us,’ she added, repeating what her companion had already said. ‘We didn’t spend any time with her, and she wasn’t much of a one for socialising. In fact, I think I only spoke to her once, when she wandered into the club where I work.’

  ‘I don’t think I ever spoke to her,’ Honey said. ‘I used to see her on the street sometimes, but we never spoke. I’m sorry we can’t be of more help.’

  ‘Can you recall seeing her last week? On Friday?’

  The blonde woman nodded. ‘Oh yes. Don’t you remember, Morag? I told you.’ She turned back to Geraldine. ‘I noticed her because she was completely off her head that night. She often used to stumble around, totally out of it.’

  ‘Did you see what happened to her?’

  Honey shook her head. ‘A car pulled up, she got in, and they drove off. That’s all I saw.’

  Geraldine questioned her, but Honey couldn’t remember the make or colour of the car. She wasn’t even able to say whether it had been a large car or a small one.

  ‘It was at night,’ she apologised, ‘and I wasn’t really looking. I only caught it out of the corner of my eye, and then they were gone.’

  ‘What time was that?’

  Honey shrugged. ‘I’ve no idea. It was dark, if that helps.’

  It was the same story from everyone who might have been in contact with Pansy: her mother and stepfather, her fellow sex workers, and the police who patrolled the streets at night in an attempt to keep them safe, although in this instance they had failed miserably. No one the investigating team spoke to had any idea who might have killed Pansy. Despite all their efforts, they were no further on with the investigation.

  ‘We knew it might take a while to get
anywhere with this one,’ Geraldine said as she sat over a coffee in the canteen with Ariadne. ‘Most murder victims have friends and relatives who can point us in the direction of their killer, but in this instance it was most likely a random stranger who picked her up in the street.’

  ‘And they wonder why we don’t like them soliciting at the roadside,’ Ariadne muttered. ‘How the hell are we supposed to find some random stranger? She’s been dead for over a week and we still have no leads at all. Seriously, how can we be expected to protect people who put themselves at risk like that? As if we don’t have enough to do.’

  ‘You surely don’t think we should stop trying to find out who did this?’ Geraldine asked.

  ‘No,’ Ariadne replied slowly, ‘but I just think we’re wasting a lot of resources on a case that we’re unlikely to resolve, and perhaps our time could be spent more usefully elsewhere.’

  Geraldine shook her head. ‘Honestly, Ariadne, I don’t know how to begin to answer that. A woman has been murdered. It doesn’t matter what her job was, or how she chose to live her life, she’s been murdered. And it’s our job to find out who did it and see them brought to justice. It’s as simple as that. You’re probably right that we won’t get anywhere, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t keep trying. No one is above the law, and we can’t pick and choose who we go after.’

  ‘Yes, of course, I know you’re right,’ Ariadne agreed. ‘It’s just going to be a difficult case, that’s all.’

  Geraldine sighed, knowing that Ariadne was right. The chances of them tracking down this killer were slim.

  14

  The search team had come up with a list of phone numbers retrieved from Pansy’s phone, and CCTV footage of the area where Pansy had picked up her punters. Several of the men were impossible to identify, having never stepped out of their cars or faced the cameras, but a few had been filmed clearly enough for sophisticated facial recognition software to match them with a particular individual, and a few more had been captured with their car registration numbers visible. Even then, some of the identifications were unreliable, but the police were steadily working their way through them all. It was likely to prove a thankless task that could take months, but they could not afford to neglect any potential source of information.