by Adam Croft
Far from being offended, Jack was actually quite pleased about this. It meant he could get on with his job in peace and quiet, safe from much of the bureaucracy that Milton House seemed to be swimming in.
He’d called ahead to make sure Hawes was in, having already tried before going home last night but getting no answer. He knocked on the door before entering the office.
‘Ah, morning Jack. Take a seat. How can I help?’ Hawes said, his lilting voice having never lost its Lancastrian accent.
‘Operation Counterflow, sir. We’ve had a few developments which I wanted to run through with you.’
‘Which one’s this, then?’ Hawes asked.
‘The two bodies found near Middlebrook.’
‘Ah yes. Russian lads, weren’t they?’
‘Serbian, we think. But that’s not confirmed. It’s only what we’ve got from piecing various bits together. But since then two first response officers took a call about a theft from a local shop. They found two lads hiding out in a park who fitted the description, so they brought them in. Turns out they’re both Serbian, too. Bit of a coincidence, if you ask me. It’s not everyday we come across Serbian nationals in Mildenheath, never mind four in the space of a day. Now, these boys reckon they had nothing to do with the shop theft, but after being pushed in questioning they told us they’d been trafficked, brought over here and made to work as rent boys in a local brothel.’
Culverhouse watched as Hawes’s eyebrows rose in unison.
‘Go on.’
‘Officers took the lads out in an unmarked car last night. They went back to the park and tried to retrace their route back to the brothel. They’re ninety-five percent sure they found the right building. It’s on Alexandra Street.’
‘Ninety-five percent?’
‘They seemed pretty certain, but they were running away and not looking at the building when they last saw it.’
‘And how long were they kept there?’
‘Hours, if that. They managed to escape pretty sharpish, by all accounts.’
‘I see. And what’s your vibe?’
‘Well, worst case scenario is they’re telling the truth. Even worse than that, there’s a chance the two boys we found buried near Middlebrook were the last pair of escapees to break out of there. Early post-mortem results seem to indicate that both had signs of anal trauma, but that it was unlikely to have been forced or as the result of abuse. They were… Well, they were willing.’
‘Right. But four escapees in twenty-four hours, with none up until then? Doesn’t seem likely to me.’
‘We can only assume there were none up until then, but we don’t know for sure. For all we know there could be bodies we haven’t found yet. Or maybe the two murdered lads didn’t escape. Maybe they’d outgrown their usefulness. We don’t know what goes on behind those doors.’
‘True. So what do you want to do?’
‘I think we need to put the property under surveillance.’
‘Surveillance? It’s Alexandra Street. Who do you want to use? The Invisible Man?’
Hawes had a point. The street and the ones surrounding it were old narrow Victorian streets, with barely enough room for a car to get down in one direction.
‘I know it’ll be difficult, but I really think—’
‘Difficult? It’ll be bloody nigh-on impossible,’ Hawes said, laughing. ‘Not to mention expensive. We don’t have the budget for that sort of thing. Especially not on the word of two blokes who’ve come up some cock-and-bull story about a sex trafficking ring just to get out of being nicked for shoplifting.’
‘My instinct is there might be some truth in the matter, sir.’
‘Some truth? Some truth? You want me to spend huge amounts of money on a stakeout because you think there might be some truth in what these lads are saying? Listen, we could only do a half-arsed day or two anyway, even if we had solid evidence. I suppose we could probably sway that or take the chance, but on your head be it. We can’t do anything more than that, though.’
‘Sir, if they’ve already had two escapees they’ll be battening down the hatches as it is. They’re not going to be carrying on in broad daylight for all to see. Not for a while yet. We need a proper stakeout. There are houses on that road, some directly opposite, which aren’t occupied. We should rent one for a couple of months and put a couple of officers in there to watch the property around the clock.’
Hawes let out a huge belly laugh. ‘Are you frigging serious? Do you have any idea how much that’ll cost? Trust me, Jack, it’s not just a case of paying the rent and getting a few chocolate HobNobs in for poor old PC Plod while he sits looking through his binoculars. There’s risk assessments, insurance, all sorts. You’re looking at tens of thousands, if not more.’
‘We can’t risk not doing something. If there’s something bigger going on, this could be massive. If it comes out that we didn’t act on information we had, it could blow the force apart.’
‘And if we spunk a load of money up the wall on a pointless stakeout, we’ll be bankrupt and put into special measures anyway. I think I know which situation is most likely, here.’
Culverhouse was used to having to fight his corner, but this time it felt different. He wasn’t personally convinced there was necessarily anything in this, but his professional instinct told him otherwise, and he knew they couldn’t afford to be anything less than overcautious.
‘Sir, I really believe we need to do this properly or not at all. The risks are too great otherwise.’
Hawes let out a sigh.
‘You can have two days of vehicle-based surveillance.’
‘There’s no way we’ll get anything in two days. If they know we’ve found the bodies they’ll be going underground for longer than that, waiting for all this to die down. And anyway, the custody clock is ticking on the two lads. We can’t just release them if there’s a threat to their lives.’
‘And is there?’ Hawes asked.
‘So they say, yes.’
‘You see, this is where we have to be extremely careful, Jack. Look at it this way. They’re homeless and in a foreign country. It’d be a smart move to have some story up their sleeves about how their lives were at risk, knowing we’d have a duty to protect them. They must have known there’d be a police officer who’d take the bait and try to push for a safe house, maybe a couple of free mobile phones we could keep in touch with them on. Bloody hell, I didn’t think it’d be Jack Culverhouse, though. You’ve gone soft in your old age.’
‘I’m just being cautious, sir. Besides which, they don’t have a home to go to.’
‘Have they got any health conditions? Did they want any referrals?’
‘No.’
‘Then it’s not our problem. We can only do what we can do.’
‘Exactly,’ Culverhouse said. ‘And I know we can do a lot more. If there’s some sex trafficking ring operating out of Mildenheath, we’ve got no option but to throw the kitchen sink at it. We can’t risk that sort of thing slipping through our fingers. The media would crucify us.’
‘They’ll crucify us anyway, Jack. They always do. And right now we’re being crucified for being on our knees when it comes to budgets and financial cutbacks. We’re the worst-funded force in the country, considering our unique challenges. You know that as well as I do. Listen, come back to me when you’ve got something more concrete and then I’ve got something to fight your corner with. Until then, it’s two days of vehicle-based surveillance. And if you get nothing in that time, I’m pulling it. That’s your lot.’
‘Sir, I—’
‘It’s that or nothing, Jack. Take it or leave it. What’s it to be?’
This was one of the times Jack was grateful he had a decent relationship with the Chief Constable and knew he could avoid disciplinary action where most other officers couldn’t. He stood up and walked towards the door, calling out to Hawes as he left.
‘Shove it up your arse.’
29
Emily ran her
dad’s phone through her hands and pondered what to say. She’d had a good half an hour or so, but she didn’t want to rush it. She needed to make sure she got the tone right. She’d read his previous texts to her and saw he was straightforward but a bit playful, too. She’d need to match that, or Chrissie would smell a rat straightaway.
Eventually, she settled on a reply and typed it out.
Me too. I’m free tomorrow night and have some vinegar I need to get rid of. Fancy it? X
She hovered her finger over the Send button for a moment or two, then tapped it.
30
Zoran and Milan were told they’d face no further charges with regards to the shoplifting. The police were unable to prove their involvement, and the shopkeeper was advised that he might want to upgrade his ancient grainy CCTV system to one which might be able to help him in future.
In reality, shoplifting was more or less a nothing crime. It was the sort of offence that took up time and resources for the police and the court system, when ultimately there was never going to be any sort of result which would help anyone. Shoplifters weren’t sent to prison and the shopkeeper wouldn’t benefit in any way whatever happened. Besides which, it had become apparent that the police now had bigger fish to fry.
The police’s main issue now was the safety and welfare of Zoran and Milan. If there was a credible threat to their lives, the police had a duty to do all they could. Hawes, however, wasn’t having any of it — there was no way he was going to sanction protection for them without any concrete evidence of their lives being at risk. But, having also refused to allow CID to put the brothel under surveillance, it wouldn’t be possible for them to obtain any evidence. They were stuck between a rock and a hard place.
Culverhouse knew the shit would hit the fan if he was right and Hawes was wrong, but there was no way he could go above the Chief Constable’s head. He’d just have to hope that he was wrong.
31
Milan wasn’t looking forward to sleeping rough tonight. He and Zoran had walked for a good two hours, heading out of town and towards the hills in the distance, and now the sun was going down. They’d agreed to check in at the police station every twenty-four hours, but right now Zoran just wanted to put some distance behind them. He needed to feel safe, if only for one night. By tomorrow, he hoped, the police would have gone in and arrested the guys. Then they’d be safe.
‘Zoran, stop,’ Milan said, having finally had enough of walking. They were in the middle of nowhere, and he’d been pleading with his friend to stop and bed down for the night ever since they’d left the police station, but Zoran wasn’t having any of it.
The police had given them details of two shelters where they could stay and get some food. Milan had been keen, but Zoran wanted to have a night to clear his head first. The last thing he wanted was to be holed up in another building where he was meant to feel safe, but wasn’t.
‘Fine. We’ll sleep in there,’ Zoran said, pointing to a dilapidated old shed at the end of a gravel path. There was a farm a little way further up the lane, and he presumed the shed belonged to them. However, it was clear it wasn’t being used for anything and was on the verge of falling down. It was warm enough outside, though, and the roof would probably keep most of any rain off, if they were lucky.
As Zoran tried to force the door open, they heard the sound of a vehicle approaching.
‘Quick. Get in here,’ Zoran said to his friend.
Milan, however, had other ideas. He knew that people were inherently good. What if this was someone who could help them with a place for the night? Perhaps they’d be able to give them some money, or perhaps a sandwich. He was absolutely starving, and would give his right leg for a sandwich right now.
‘No. This is stupid, Zoran. We can’t live like hermits. We need some help.’
‘No we don’t. We don’t need anybody’s help. Not tonight, anyway. Get in here.’
Milan stood his ground. ‘No,’ he said, as the headlights of the oncoming vehicle danced on his face, the vehicle coming to a halt a few yards away from them.
It was a blue van — not one they recognised or had seen before, which was a good start.
‘Are you coming with me or not?’ Milan called, trying to make it clear in his voice that he was deadly serious. ‘Last chance, Zoran.’
Zoran let out a sigh, and went to join his friend.
They could see two people in the front of the van, and could just about make out the figure of someone getting out of the passenger side. The headlights were too bright to make out any features of the people. A second or two later, the driver also got out, and Milan and Zoran walked towards the van.
Milan’s eyes registered the glimmers of light that reflected off the cold steel in each of the men’s right hands as they rose. The next — and last — thing he saw was the blinding flash of light from the end of the barrel as his world went dark.
32
Spending a fourth evening in a row with Xav had taught Wendy two things. Firstly, she was probably right to ask him to move in with her. But it also meant she’d somehow managed to find the police officer’s holy grail: the work-life balance.
She couldn’t remember the last time she had four relaxing evenings in a row, and certainly not in the middle of a major investigation. Right now, though, she was starting to feel as though there were other things that should come first in her life.
That wasn’t to take anything away from the victims and their families, of course. When she was in work, they came first. But she had come to terms with the fact that her working hours were just that — for working. In her own time, she had to put her happiness first.
Wendy had decided against cooking, and instead had ordered in a couple of pizzas. It was a brave move: one of their first genuine arguments had been over whether or not it was right to put pineapple on a pizza. Wendy was very much of the opinion that it was — ham and pineapple was her favourite combination. Xav, however, seemed genuinely aggrieved that anyone would even consider it. The argument had ended in laughter on both sides after Xav tried to explain his aversion to pineapple on pizzas by suggesting it might have been something to do with his European heritage. Wendy had been unable to keep herself from laughing as she pointed out that Spain and Italy weren’t exactly next-door neighbours.
She’d managed to demolish three slices — with pineapple — before she felt compelled to address the topic of Xav moving in with her.
‘I was thinking again about what we spoke about the other day,’ she said. ‘About taking things to the next stage.’
‘Yeah?’
‘Yeah. It seems a bit silly running around like teenagers, staying over at each other’s houses and nipping out in the morning. It makes sense to move things on somehow.’
Xav seemed to be considering this. ‘How do you mean?’
‘I mean… How would you like to move in with me?’
He looked at her for a moment. ‘Here?’
‘Well, yeah. This is where I live.’
‘And what would I do with my place?’
Wendy shrugged her shoulders. ‘That’s up to you. You could sell it. Rent it out. I dunno.’
‘But it’s my house, Wendy. I worked hard for it. I don’t just want to give it up.’
Wendy didn’t quite know how to respond to this. It wasn’t something she’d ever imagined Xav saying. But, as she thought about it, she realised she would probably say the same thing if the shoe was on the other foot.
‘Renting it out isn’t giving it up,’ she said.
‘No, but I don’t want to let a load of people I don’t know live in my house either. I don’t want it getting trashed. I don’t want to rent it out.’
Wendy sat for a moment before speaking.
‘I was under the impression you wanted to move things on to the next step. I’m sorry. I clearly misunderstood.’
Xav got up and went to sit next to Wendy on the sofa.
‘I do. But I just… I dunno. Selling my house or r
enting it out? Why does it have to be me doing that? You’ve got a house you can sell too. It’s not something I’ve ever thought about before. I just thought maybe… Well, I dunno what I thought.’
‘I get it. You’re a man and you don’t want to commit to anything.’
Xav sighed. ‘It’s not about commitment, Wendy. Why is it always me doing the running around? When we both have a free evening I come down to yours. When you want to move things to the next step it’s me selling my house and coming to live with you. It just seems a bit… one-sided.’
Wendy didn’t know what to say back to that. She could see he was right, but it wasn’t something she’d ever thought about. Was she selfish? She didn’t think so. But he had a point. Was it a sign that she didn’t actually want to commit herself? She now felt bad about making comments to him about not wanting to commit, when actually perhaps it was her who didn’t want to make the effort after all.
‘I’m just not sure how long we can keep on running around like school kids, Xav. Yeah it’s easy and convenient, but at some point we have to bite the bullet and decide which direction we’re going in. Don’t you think?’
‘Yeah, I do. But is there any rush? I mean, we need to talk about it. You’re right. But we don’t need to make any decisions now, do we? Let’s just take our time and see what happens.’
Wendy looked at him for a moment, then grudgingly nodded.
33
The man looked across at the driver and scowled for the umpteenth time that night. He couldn’t believe his colleague could be so bloody stupid as to reverse the van into a bloody gate post.