‘And we won’t end up with it, either, if that’s your attitude going in.’
His DCI rolled her eyes. On the tail end of a sigh she said, ‘It has bugger all to do with my attitude. Some of us have to graft within the protocols and procedures. Give me something to work with and I’ll support you.’
Bliss put his head back and blew out some pent-up frustration. ‘The fact that she had one of those cards and might well be a sex worker tells me there’s a connection to our case against Lewis Drake. My team and I rescued those young women from his clutches, boss, and in the process we disassembled Drake’s trafficking operation. We never got him to talk about those who came before – the girls and women he’d sneaked in and out of that airbase before we caught him. But what if this victim is one of them?’
‘What if she is? How do you imagine we can tie her in when we can’t speak to her about it?’
‘We do what we do best. Investigate. If she entered this country courtesy of Drake, then even though he’s banged up, he may still have something to do with her murder.’
This was mostly wishful thinking on his part. Lewis Drake ran a scrapyard in Peterborough, the business nothing more than a front for his illegal operations. There had been six women in that container flown into RAF Wittering on a transport plane. One managed to escape. Her liquefied remains were later discovered in a barrel of acid on Drake’s property, but so far Drake’s legal team had successfully thwarted all attempts to charge him with the woman’s murder. In fact, a member of his staff had already confessed to snatching the girl, killing her, and disposing of her remains. Nailing Drake for a different murder would go some way to compensating for missing out on the one Bliss knew the man had at the very least ordered.
‘You ask so much of me, Jimmy,’ Warburton said, shaking her head. ‘You send me into battle with my opposite number, but provide me with no weapons.’
‘I’d argue my own case if I still had the rank.’
‘Yes, well, we all know whose fault that is. Be grateful you still have a job at all.’
Bliss let go of his irritation. ‘I am. You and Superintendent Fletcher went in to bat for me, and I won’t ever forget the debt I owe you both. And neither will the people I’m still able to help in whatever time I have remaining in the job. Just like this poor victim we have here. Little more than a kid. If this is Drake’s work, he deserves to be collared for it. If not, there’s a distinct possibility that whoever slipped into his shoes when we put him away signed off on the job.’
Warburton sighed. ‘And you know all this how?’
‘I don’t. I feel it in my water.’
‘You sure that’s not old age and a dodgy bladder?’
‘Forgive me for saying so, boss, but you’re starting to sound like Penny.’
‘DS Chandler is a wise woman. And a saint to put up with you. Look, Jimmy, I hear you. I understand. But do you really want the responsibility? Or should I say – do you really want it to be the team’s responsibility?’
‘It’s not a matter of want,’ he said softly. ‘Call me old fashioned if you like, but to me it’s more a matter of duty. That girl had my card on her person. That card ties me to her, whether or not I’m part of the team investigating her murder. But you’re right about one thing: I do feel responsible. So let me do what I can to find the bastard who strangled her to death.’
Warburton acknowledged his plea with a dip of her head. ‘There’s still a budget to fight over, Jimmy.’
‘Then use that as one of your arguments in there.’ He nodded towards the office door to their left. ‘Our case, our budget.’
‘And have Superintendent Fletcher all over me demanding to know why.’
‘No problem. Remind her it’s the right thing to do.’
She clenched both fists and raised them to her forehead, letting out an exasperated groan. ‘You’ll be the death of me, Jimmy Bliss. Of my career, at least.’
He grinned. ‘So you’ll do it?’
‘You knew I would.’
‘I hoped.’ He thought about it for a moment, then nodded. ‘Yeah, I did know it. Not because you’re a soft touch, either. Truth is, you’re a good copper and you do the right thing when it needs doing. I realise this is a long shot. I’d be stupid not to. Our victim might not have been a brass at all. Even if she was, she could still have been killed by a punter. Plus, there are plenty of parasites like Drake out there running young girls. I get all that, boss. But her having my card tells me there’s a possible connection. I have to follow up on that.’
The office door opened and Kennedy’s DCI beckoned Warburton in. She got to her feet, smoothed down her trousers, and buttoned her suit jacket. ‘I’ll give it my best shot, Jimmy. But don’t sulk if they keep it for themselves.’
Bliss put a hand to his chest. ‘I’m insulted.’
‘You’re immune to insults. All that experience you’ve had, I expect.’
‘Perhaps. But thanks, boss. I know you’ll work something out.’
***
To say he sulked on the drive back would be an overstatement, but Bliss was not an entirely happy man. Cambridge had handed over the investigation with great reluctance, but not before attaching a couple of unwelcome strings. The first compelled Bliss to report to DI Kennedy once a day – and at the first indication that there was no connection to Lewis Drake or whoever had replaced him in the trafficking business, he was to hand it all back. The second was harder to stomach: the NCA liaison, Glen Ashton, had been assigned to the investigation to work with Bliss and the Major Crimes team based at Thorpe Wood in Peterborough.
Bliss’s natural instinct had almost persuaded him to lodge a complaint. Having been an NCA investigator himself, he understood their expertise could often make the difference in trafficking cases. But Ashton was too raw. Bliss regarded himself as Marley’s ghost, and the investigator merely the set of chains he was compelled to drag around as a penitence. Having to pander to the man was a big ask. But he was immensely grateful to Warburton for having fought for his right to run the case. Settling for what he had was ultimately the best approach.
The Major Crimes Unit morning briefing was over by the time he arrived at HQ. Earlier, he’d messaged Detective Sergeant Bishop, who was acting up as DI in preparation for making the move on a full-time basis. Explaining his tardiness, Bliss also mentioned he hoped to be bringing back a live one. Quite what the team would make of it, he had no idea. The unit had a number of cases on the go, but nothing as pressing as murder. He believed any mention of Lewis Drake and the young women found in the transport container might swing matters his way.
Only Chandler, Bishop and DC Ansari were in the squad room when he eventually made it upstairs. He glanced at a wall-mounted whiteboard on the way in, which told him DCs John Hunt and Phil Gratton were out pursuing enquires on another matter. DCI Warburton was not in her office; he doubted she had made it back from Cambridge ahead of him. He also assumed that when his boss did get in, she would head straight upstairs to discuss the case with Detective Superintendent Fletcher.
‘How’s it going, boss?’ Chandler asked. ‘I gather you might have something juicy for us?’
Bliss threw a glance at DS Bishop. Officially, the acting DI was currently Penny Chandler’s direct supervisor. As a squad, they had agreed early on that nothing much would change after Bliss had been reinstated at a lower rank. Bishop would effectively act in his stead when it came to attending meetings, stepping up as deputy Senior Investigating Officer as required, as well as addressing the day-to-day management of the unit and the administrative burden of the role. As for running operations, they continued to regard Bliss as their leader. Bishop had been the first to suggest the arrangement, but still Bliss wondered when the time would come for his DS to step forward to ask to be referred to as the boss.
It hadn’t happened yet, so Bliss was happy to continue. He explained why he’d been dragged out in the early hours of the morning. He noticed his colleagues’ heightened interest
when he mentioned the business card.
‘No,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘It wasn’t any of our girls. But she had the card, which might indicate she was close to one of them. I threw Lewis Drake’s name into the mix, hoping the connection would make all the difference in how the case was eventually assigned. DI Kennedy was not overly impressed, but he understood my line of thinking.’
‘Any idea which of the girls gave up her card?’ Bishop asked.
‘No. All five went through the NRM. One of them later changed her mind and decided to be repatriated. Of the other four, one absconded from her temporary residence – I don’t know why she ran, but perhaps she thought her case wasn’t strong enough to win. The remaining three had also applied for asylum and were eventually accepted for refugee status. Perhaps the girl who chose to go back home gave her card to another trafficked young woman. I’ll be contacting the three whose details we have.’
Ansari whistled. ‘You found all that out this morning, boss?’
‘No,’ Bliss said. ‘I’ve followed their progress since the day we found them in that container. I’ve previously spoken to the three who obtained refugee status. I know how to get hold of them.’
The National Referral Mechanism was often the starting point for young people trafficked into the United Kingdom. As a body, it was capable of quickly establishing a ‘reasonable grounds’ decision in favour of the applicants, followed by a ‘conclusive grounds’ finding and eventual residence permit if things went their way. An appeal for asylum was also often made at the same time. In many cases, circumstances changed for those not wishing to return immediately to their own country. But the process could also make allowances for victims of trafficking to reside on a more permanent basis. Bliss had followed this process all the way through for the women in the container, offering documentation and his own sworn testimony to their status as trafficked people.
‘Do you ever sleep?’ Chandler asked him in almost child-like wonder. ‘Or do you have access to more than the twenty-four hours a day we mere mortals are allowed?’
‘I do sleep. Us old folk need less of it, that’s all.’
‘You want to run with that?’ Bishop asked. ‘You and Pen?’
Bliss nodded. ‘Makes sense.’
‘Good. Meanwhile, Gul and I will follow up with the pathologist and forensic bods to see if we can nail down an ID on our victim. TOD and COD as well.’
‘When you speak to Nancy, make sure you ask about lividity.’ Nancy Drinkwater was the city’s head of pathology, popular with the team.
Bishop regarded him with surprise. ‘You think our victim might have been killed elsewhere and moved?’
‘I think we ought to consider the possibility, yes. It’s been bloody cold out, the past couple of days, and even if she was a brass I don’t think she was there to meet with a punter. It could be a body dump. Also, I couldn’t tell if what I noticed on her skin was blood pooling or bruising. She was discovered lying on her side, so it’s something to note.’
‘Who found her? Is there anyone working on that?’
‘Locals. There were plenty of places to hide her over at the chalk pits, but our victim was left out in the open. A jogger found her, and the discovery was witnessed by a woman walking her dog. Both were interviewed and cleared. I might want to meet with them myself, but DI Kennedy was satisfied they were legit.’
Bishop considered this fresh information. ‘Okay. It’s early days, so let’s stick with our current actions for the time being. If we need John and Phil, I’ll rope them in as soon as they both become available. How about the NCA? Where do they fit in?’
Bliss remembered Ashton, and winced. ‘Ah, yes. There’s something I forgot to tell you all.’
Three
Bliss realised he and Chandler ought to wait for Glen Ashton to arrive before heading out, but the problem was he had taken an instant dislike to the young man, and it was this that won the day. The way Bliss saw it, the NCA investigator was attached to the case, not directly to him or his role in it. He also didn’t particularly want the man intervening in the interviews he had planned, given their nature and sensitivity.
He made three calls to numbers stored on his personal mobile phone. All three were answered, and after a series of brief conversations, he had successfully arranged appointments with each of the young women he’d spoken to.
Parastu Mazdaki lived and worked in Leicester, little more than an hour’s drive west. She led educational tours for schoolchildren at the National Space Centre. During their previous conversations, she had claimed to be happy with her life and expressed no desire to return to Iran. She had fled her homeland along with many others to escape political upheaval, but had been abducted at gunpoint by traffickers in Turkey two days after arriving in Gaziantep. Hers was one of a million or more such unhappy tales, and Bliss was pleased to have played a small role in helping Mazdaki find sanctuary in the UK.
Against all odds, Bliss had found a space in the visitors’ car park at the National Space Centre. It was a short walk to the entrance, where they showed their warrant cards and obtained a visitor badge each on yet another lanyard. They were early and Mazdaki had been delayed, so they took a look at the exhibits and used the unexpected free time to catch up.
Penny’s relationship with a man Bliss referred to as Shrek was going from strength to strength, and with her once-estranged daughter currently studying at Cambridge University, his friend was as happy as he’d ever seen her. The change had shaved years off her. She looked at peace, and a glow had returned to her face.
‘How about you and the Bone Woman?’ Chandler asked. ‘You haven’t mentioned much about her of late.’
He shrugged. ‘Not a lot to mention. We’re still seeing each other off and on – though perhaps more off than on.’
‘Any particular reason for that?’
‘Not really.’ Bliss left it at that, hoping Chandler would do likewise.
He and Emily Grant had a relaxed personal arrangement, with no commitment to anything other than spending time together when it suited them both. She had backed off recently, the two of them having argued over an issue he was dealing with outside the job. He didn’t feel up to discussing any of this with his colleague, so took the conversation in a different direction.
‘How are you and the rest of the team coping? Anybody having any problems with the situation? Can’t be easy on any of you with me and Bish having swapped roles.’
Chandler pursed her lips before responding. ‘Nobody that I’m aware of. I’m fine with it. Not sure how much the others would say to me, given how close you and I are. As far as I know they’re all getting on with their work. It’s an odd situation, I grant you. But I think they’d all prefer to deal with that if it means you’re still with us in the team.’
‘That’s good to know. I can’t say it’s not been awkward. Bish seems to be taking it in his stride, and I’ve accepted it’s the way things have to be. I’d rather still be based at HQ and suffer the occasional humiliation from those who don’t care for me than get transferred out.’
‘I still say you got a raw deal.’
Bliss shook his head. ‘No. They were right, Pen. I was bang out of order. I went against procedure, which was bad enough. But to bad-mouth the Chief Super… that was me being the worst version of me. If I have to put up with dropping back a rank and having another few months of therapy, then so be it.’
He hadn’t always been honest enough to admit when he was wrong, and the learning curve was sharper than he’d imagined. Having carried out illegal surveillance on two fellow officers during a major case over the summer, he’d behaved like a spoiled child when caught out and grilled by his bosses. If not for strenuous appeals on his behalf by DCI Warburton and DSI Fletcher, he’d probably have been shipped out of the city for a second – and final – time. To remain in Major Crimes at Thorpe Wood, he’d had to accept demotion, and had done so without a second thought the moment the offer was put to him.
&n
bsp; ‘I still can’t believe you kept in touch with those women we rescued,’ Chandler said, pulling him back into the moment. ‘Yet another side of Jimmy Bliss most people never get to see or hear about. Not even your closest friend, apparently.’
He laughed. ‘Don’t sulk, you soppy tart. I told nobody, not even Emily. It’s a private matter. You can’t tell me that finding them in that container and thinking they had to be dead when we threw the doors open didn’t touch you emotionally.’
‘Oh, it did. Very much so. You weren’t the only one in tears when we realised all five of them were still breathing. Never occurred to me to keep in touch once it was over, though.’
‘That’s just it, Pen. How over is it? We put away a lot of people involved in that operation, even that bastard Lewis Drake. But you and I both know he’s the kind of vermin who won’t be happy letting that go. He might not be prepared to let them live during his appeal.’
‘He’d have to find them first.’
‘Yeah, and we both know how easy it can be to get information if you have the right amount of money or favours to offer in return. I decided to keep in touch to keep them updated on how it was all progressing. That’s all.’
They paused in front of a display case containing various types of space suit. Bliss had never been much of one for the planets and space travel, other than the many Hollywood versions.
‘Still no idea where our absconder might have gone?’ Chandler asked.
He shook his head. ‘Not a scooby. I doubt we’ll ever find out, either.’
The Somalian girl had disappeared after spending six months in the care of the state. Her refugee status was not as unequivocal as the others’. There had been discussions at all levels in relation to her trafficking story; specifically, whether she had volunteered to be taken in order to find a better life in the UK. Bliss had tried looking for her, but came to the conclusion that she had vanished into the Somalian community, probably in London.
The Autumn Tree (DI Bliss Book 8) Page 2