by Rob Ashman
The clasps have corroded and won’t budge. The edge of the shovel makes short work of the rusty locks and I open the lid to reveal three packages wrapped in heavy-duty black plastic. I lift them out, placing them on the ground. Using my knife, I slit one of them and run my finger along the cold metal cocooned within. The plastic has done its job; my souvenirs from the Gulf are in good order.
Jade is beside me, staring at the packages. ‘Remember you said that taking a life was fine so long as you’ve given the matter due consideration?’
‘I do.’
‘I think eighteen years is long enough.’
‘I think you’re right, Jade, I think you’re right.’
Chapter 41
Bagley was taking the stairs two at a time while barking into his phone. ‘I want everyone together in the incident room in fifteen minutes for a briefing. We need to regroup and formulate new lines of enquiry.’
‘Yes, sir.’ Tavener hung up and set about delivering his errand.
Bagley burst into the office suite on the top floor. He approached Norma Pettiford, the woman who guarded the diary of ACC Quade.
‘Norma, I need to see the ACC, it’s urgent.’
‘She has someone in with her at the moment, I don’t think it’s important – would you like me to interrupt?’
‘Thanks.’ Bagley skirted around her desk and rapped on the door. He couldn’t wait to impart the good news. He opened the door to find Quade having coffee with a man in a dark suit. ‘Really sorry to interrupt, ma’am, but we have an urgent operational matter I need to discuss with you.’
‘Oh, err, yes, okay. I think we’re about done here. Do you mind, Derek? It’s never a dull moment around here.’ The man in the suit seemed fine about being kicked out, shook her hand and left. ‘I wasn’t expecting to see you until much later today.’
‘And that’s why I’m here, ma’am.’
‘Go on.’
‘There was nothing at the Paragon.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘At the club… there was nothing there; no illegal immigrants, no auction, no nothing.’
Quade leaned forward with her hands on the desk. ‘Nothing?’
‘Not a thing.’
Quade let out a deep sigh. ‘The Chief’s gonna go apeshit. I’ve been briefing him today about how we have a hotline of enquiry and intend to bring the murder cases to a conclusion. He made it perfectly clear that it was not before time. Now this! Kray was so convincing in her analysis.’
‘We all know how convincing Roz can be, ma’am, but that doesn’t make her right. I made my position perfectly clear. I had reservations about the whole operation from the start and now we have egg on our faces and are probably one mail delivery away from being sued for harassment. Not to mention having to pay for the loss of earnings and damage to the club.’
‘I think, you might recall, we both had our reservations.’
‘That’s right, ma’am, we did.’
‘What the hell am I going to tell the Chief?’
‘Nothing yet. I’m getting the team together in ten minutes to get things back on track. We can’t do anything about today’s screw up but we can tell him what we intend to do about it. I don’t go with this all the cases are linked bollocks. We need to tackle them separately.’
‘Okay, I’ll hang fire until you have your ducks in a row.’
‘I’ll see you later.’ Bagley went to walk out.
‘Erm, where’s Roz? Why isn’t she here to face the music?’
‘She collapsed at the Paragon, not too sure what’s wrong. They took her to hospital.’
‘Shit, that doesn’t sound good.’
‘Maybe keeled over with embarrassment.’
Bagley made his way downstairs to the incident room where the team had already assembled. ‘Okay, let’s make a start,’ he announced. ‘Unfortunately, Roz has been taken ill and will not be joining us so I’m taking over the murder investigations.’ Mutterings floated around the room. ‘Today was a total cock-up so we need to regroup and crack on. So, as of now, we will adopt a fresh approach. I want us to start from the beginning with Michael Ellwood, looking for a drug connection. We need to revisit the house-to-house with Tommy Weir – somebody must have seen something. Someone knows what happened to him. I want a national alert put out to identify the Asian woman. I’m convinced she will turn up on a missing person’s register somewhere. Find out who the person was at the hospital the night she died – it could be an abusive partner or her dealer.’
Tavener put his hand up. ‘What about Billy Ellwood?’
Bagley nodded. ‘Keep digging around in his past, there might be something there. And bring him in for questioning, I want to sit opposite him when he tells us why he led us on a wild goose chase today.’
‘Sir, are we moving away from the theory that the murders are linked?’ asked Gill.
‘We are, from now on they’re separate investigations. Is everyone clear?’
‘Yes, sir,’ was the collective response.
Bagley couldn’t keep the smile off his face.
In a restaurant across town, a man wearing a shiny suit was standing on a makeshift stage. He was lean and lanky with slicked back hair and an orange tan. He looked like an eighties gameshow host. A black microphone was taped to his cheek.
‘Good afternoon, gentlemen, I will be your host and auctioneer for today’s entertainment. As promised, we bring you something different, something a little out of the ordinary which we hope will be to your liking.’ He went through his well-rehearsed patter.
In the room were three men, each one seated at a well laid table, consisting of an ice bucket, a bottle of Moët, a large fluted glass and some canapés. A large flat screen TV and a set of speakers sat on a stand in the corner. The image of the auctioneer in glaring HD clarity beamed out at them. Down the side of the screen were six head and shoulder icons depicting the online guests.
The auctioneer continued his introduction. ‘Now I need to go through a few points before we get started…’
Marshall was sitting at the back, his hand resting on a metal cashbox containing the door fees. Johnson and Johnson flanked the stage. There was one person missing from the event, the new customer who had so generously donated a substantial goodwill gesture for the privilege of taking part. There had been no way of contacting him or his go-between to inform them of the change of venue. Marshall assumed that the new boy would have clocked the coppers and done a runner. Never mind, there would be another auction in a few days – maybe he should give him a discount for the inconvenience.
‘Before we start I need to do a sound and visual check. Can everyone see and hear me okay?’ The man on the stage waved his arms about, it was almost kick-off time. ‘So, if you would like to sit back, enjoy your champagne, and we will get the show underway.’
‘I would like to introduce lot number one.’ A young woman wearing a short minidress and high heels was brought from a side entrance and led to the stage. Her face was thick with make-up and her hair had been curled. Even the close attention of a cover stick couldn’t hide the track marks peppering her arms. ‘First one of the day, gents. This is a 1998 model. Never been raced but requires nitrous oxide to burn bright on the track. I think you will agree she has good lines with a cracking paint job. Who will start me off?’
A man sitting at one of the tables took a sip of his champagne and raised his token. ‘I’ll go three. Mr Red.’
‘That’s got us off to a flying start. Now who will give me five? Come on, gents, check out that bodywork. Do I hear five?’
‘Five. Mr White,’ said a voice through the speakers.
Marshall patted the cashbox – with fourteen lots on the card this was going to be a good day. Coupled with the earlier entertainment at the Paragon, this was going to be a great day.
Chapter 42
Kray disconnected the call. It was the third time she’d rung Millican and on each occasion it had transferred to voicemail. She was
dressed in a hospital nightgown, lying in a bed in the side ward. The doctor had left over an hour ago and had given her the news that the embryo had been aborted cleanly and no further action was necessary. Her sickness had gone and she was feeling physically much better – her emotional state, however, was a very different story.
All she kept thinking about was the look on Millican’s face when the realisation had dawned on him – why didn’t you tell me?
As she lay there staring at the back wall she kept asking herself the same thing – why didn’t I tell him?
The door swung open and in walked Millican.
‘Where have you been? I’ve been calling you,’ Kray said, raising herself up on her elbows.
‘I know, I went back to your house to get these.’ Millican handed over a bag containing clothes and toiletries.
‘Thanks, but you could have answered your phone.’
‘I needed time to think.’
‘Oh.’
Millican sat on the side of the bed and held Kray’s hand. ‘What did the doctor say?’
‘She said everything was clear.’
‘That’s a relief.’ He leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek.
‘The nurse said I can go home.’
‘I didn’t need this after all.’ He held up the bag. ‘Come on, let’s get you out of here.’
The journey home passed in silence. Millican opened the front door and Kray shuffled inside. She felt like she’d been kicked in the stomach by a horse. She slumped down onto the sofa.
‘I’ll put the kettle on.’ Millican busied himself with cups in the kitchen.
‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,’ Kray said.
‘When I bumped into you yesterday at the hospital, you were standing outside Maternity. What were you doing there?’
‘I’d started bleeding and they sent me for a scan. The nurse told me everything was okay and said sometimes that happens.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me then? You had an ideal opportunity.’
‘I don’t know.’
Millican stopped making coffee and sat next to her on the sofa. ‘Is it because you’re not sure about us?’
‘No, it’s not like that.’
‘Is it because you were deciding whether or not to keep it?’
‘No, no, I was trying to pick the right time.’ Kray flung her arms around him. He didn’t reciprocate.
‘I keep asking myself the same question: what would stop you from telling me? And the conclusion I reach every time is that you don’t see our relationship as long-term.’
‘I do, I do… please believe me.’
‘I don’t know what to believe, Roz. I thought we were good for each other, I thought we were going places. But if that were true you would have told me.’
‘This is stupid, Chris, you know how much you mean to me.’
‘Do I? Really? I’m not sure.’
‘Chris, you’ve got this all wrong. You’re in shock, I’m still in–’
‘Shock! Of course I’m in fucking shock!’ Millican jumped to his feet. ‘My girlfriend announces that she’s pregnant while lying in a hospital bed having just had a miscarriage. You robbed me of thinking I was going to be a dad. For however many weeks that lasted; you knew you were going to be a mum and you stopped me from knowing I was going to be a dad. You robbed me of that.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘It was my baby too, you know?’
‘I know.’
‘Do you? Because that’s a hell of a piece of information to keep to yourself.’
‘I wanted to tell you, honest I–’
‘Do you know I spoke to four different nurses and the doctor while you were in hospital and not one of them asked how I was? Not one.’
‘They were focused on doing their job.’
‘You didn’t bother to tell me and they didn’t care enough to ask. It’s like I was relegated to the sidelines.’
‘What? You’re talking bollocks now.’
‘It’s about being kept out of the loop. And from what I can tell, I’m so far out of the loop I may as well fuck off.’ Millican stood up and grabbed his jacket. ‘In fact – that’s a good idea. If you need anything, call me.’
‘Where are you going?’
‘Do you mind if I don’t tell you right now? It doesn’t feel like the right time.’ Millican stormed down the hallway and opened the front door to find Tavener about to ring the bell.
‘Bloody hell, where did you come from?’ Millican asked.
‘I’ve come to see how Roz is. Is she in?’
‘Yeah, she’s in.’ Millican pushed past Tavener. ‘Did you know?’
‘Know? Know what?’
‘Never mind.’ Millican darted down the steps to his car. Tavener watched him drive away and went inside.
‘Hi, Roz. I thought I’d drop by to see how you are.’
‘Yeah, so I heard.’
‘What’s up with Chris?’
‘Can you do me an enormous favour?’
‘Yes, what?’
‘Go to the fridge and pour me the biggest glass of wine you can find, if you can’t find a big glass, use a mug.’
‘Wine? You were rushed to hospital in an ambulance today. Should you be doing that?’
‘I should be carrying a fucking baby but that hasn’t worked out so well. Just get it.’
Tavener’s bottom jaw dropped open. ‘A baby?’
‘Yes, a baby. I had a miscarriage.’
‘Holy shit. I’m so sorry, Roz.’
‘Can you get me a drink, please?’
Tavener went into the kitchen and returned minutes later with half a pint of Sauv Blanc. He handed it over. Kray took a huge gulp.
‘That tastes good.’ She sunk back into the cushions. ‘Sorry I swore at you.’
‘Hey, if you can’t swear at me who can you swear at?’ Tavener said, sitting in the armchair opposite.
‘Well, not Chris, that’s for sure.’
‘Has he taken it badly?’
‘What he’s taken badly is the fact I didn’t tell him.’
‘Oh shit.’
‘The first he found out about it was at the hospital. I wanted it to be the right time, the right setting, but all I succeeded in doing is keeping him in the dark.’
‘I’m really sorry, Roz. He’ll be okay.’
‘It took me weeks to get my head around the fact I was pregnant. I have to cut him some slack, he’s only had hours to process the fact he was going to be a father – and now he’s not.’ Kray took another swig of wine. ‘I fucked that bit up good and proper.’
‘Once he’s got his head around it, he’ll be fine.’
‘I hope so. Don’t want to lose my baby and my boyfriend all in one day.’
‘How are you feeling?’
‘Physically, I’m okay.’ Another chug of wine disappeared down her throat. ‘Anyway, why did you drop by?’
‘To see if you were all right.’
‘What happened after the raid went belly-up?’
‘We regrouped back at the station and Bagley gave us new marching orders.’
‘Has he jumped in my seat?’
‘You could say that.’
Kray shook her head. ‘Bet he couldn’t stop grinning.’
‘He did seem pretty pleased with himself.’
‘He’s a dick.’
‘I don’t understand how it went so badly wrong.’
‘I got carried away with what Ellwood told me. I joined up dots that weren’t there and screwed up. But…’
‘But what?’
‘I believed him. When I was sitting across from him and he was telling me about how he had infiltrated Marshall’s operation and how there was an auction, I believed him.’
Tavener said nothing. Kray looked at him over the rim of her glass. ‘What is it?’
‘Nothing.’
‘You didn’t just come here to see how I was, what is it?’
‘You have enough on your plate right no
w.’
‘Duncan, I can read you like a book. Now do I have to beat it out of you or are you going to tell me?’
Tavener opened his coat and pulled a sheaf of paper from his inside pocket. ‘You know you asked me to dig up everything I could from Nottingham and West Mids about the Billy Ellwood case back in 2000?’
‘Yes, what of it?’
‘There was an obvious question hanging in the air: if Marshall was the third attacker, and the skin found under Blythe Ellwood’s came from his face, why didn’t they match his DNA?’
‘That’s the obvious question.’
‘Turns out the evidence was compromised when the fridge it was being kept in developed a fault and stopped working. One hundred and sixty items of evidence were ruined.’
‘A fridge going on the blink – that would do it.’ Kray sat on the edge, leaning forward. ‘Why are you telling me this?’
‘It turns out the Nottingham force was trialling a new system whereby access to the evidence room was strictly controlled. Apparently, they’d come unstuck when they lost track of a blood sample which, in turn, led to a case collapsing. So they tightened up their procedures and the key to the room had to be signed in and signed out.’
‘That’s standard stuff.’
‘It wasn’t at that time. This is a copy of the log.’ He handed Kray the wad of papers. ‘The records show that the fridge was found to be broken on Tuesday 25 April. Which was the first day back after the bank holiday. Look at the entry on Friday 21 April.’
Kray flicked through the papers scanning the dates.
‘Fucking hell.’ Her eyes widened to the size of saucers.
Chapter 43
I finish writing fictitious names and addresses on lined paper and attach it to a clipboard. Dressed in an oversized boiler suit and peaked cap – I’m ready to go.
‘I’m proud of you, Dad.’ Jade smiles at me from the back seat. For the first time in years she looks pretty as opposed to angry.
‘I got this. You wait here,’ I reply, picking the cardboard box from the passenger seat. She nods in return. Stepping from the car, I cross the road and walk up the drive to the front door. My eyes are everywhere. I press the bell.