The Autumn Tree (DI Bliss Book 8)

by Tony J. Forder

  ‘Which leaves us with an Iranian and the two women from the Ukraine.’

  He nodded. ‘Yeva Savchuk and Marta Lsenko. Did you know Yeva means to breathe? She told me that herself during our first real conversation. Said she had to remind herself of it while she and the others were struggling for air in those final few hours. Repeated her name over and over again, using it as some kind of mantra.’

  ‘They’re an amazing bunch. I’m not sure I would have lasted as long as they did in those conditions.’

  Bliss recalled finding the young women and wondering how they had managed to survive. ‘Me neither.’

  Chandler narrowed her gaze. ‘You admire them.’

  ‘Don’t you?’

  ‘Of course. Who wouldn’t? But it’s more obvious with you. Almost as if you’re… proud of them for having managed to stay alive in such atrocious conditions.’

  ‘I suppose I am. Finding them and saving them from certain death created a connection – one I find hard to let go of.’

  They fell into silence as they continued walking around the exhibition, before Chandler spoke again. ‘You remembered their names. Off the top of your head.’

  Bliss gave her a sidelong glance. ‘What’s your point?’

  ‘It astonishes me how you do that. You rarely – if ever – take notes, whether it’s a briefing, a meeting, or an interview. I often wonder why.’

  Bliss nodded. ‘Then I’ll tell you. Provided you answer one of my own questions first.’

  ‘I can do that.’

  ‘You always used to save your own note writing until those same briefings, meetings, and interviews were over. But since Mia’s been gone, it’s as if you and your notepad are inseparable. And you tap the pen on its cover the way she did. Are you aware of that, or is it a subconscious thing?’

  Chandler ran a hand across her hair and fussed over her braided ponytail. ‘It’s deliberate. It was Mia’s little quirk, but now that it’s mine, I feel closer to her somehow. I find it comforting. I thought others might, too.’

  ‘It is.’ Bliss nodded appreciatively. ‘We do. That was a good call.’

  ‘So now you. Why do you hardly ever take notes?’

  Bliss shrugged. ‘Testing myself. I used to note stuff down, back when we first worked together. But my condition occasionally leaves me with brain-fog. My mind gets a little muddled and my concentration can be difficult to keep on track. So I work off what I hear and take in at the time, and I try to remember it all, hoping the focus will keep me sharp.’

  ‘And how often does that work out?’

  ‘Not as often as I’d like. But the things I absolutely need to remember do seem to stick. Doing mundane tasks like food shopping, or the laundry – even eating – not so much. But I reckon that’s a fair trade.’

  ‘All of which you’ve told your therapist, right?’

  Bliss snorted. ‘What do you think? She doesn’t tell me anything I didn’t already know. In return, I don’t tell her anything I don’t want her to know.’

  Chandler shook her head and threw him a sour look. ‘That sounds like a healthy arrangement. Not. And a complete waste of time.’

  If ever a sniff could be derisory, such was the one he gave at that moment. ‘I got something from it when I first went, but not any longer. Therapy isn’t what I need. But attendance is mandatory, so I go. I find having some down time with my music or in the garden watching my fish does more for me than spilling my guts to a relative stranger.’

  ‘It helped you before. Why do you think it’s not working this time?’

  ‘Because there’s nothing in my past or present gnawing at me; if anything, it’s the future that gives me cause for concern. My CRA applies in less than two years’ time. That gives me less than eighteen months to decide if I want to apply for an extension.’

  Chandler’s eyes widened and her voice rose an octave. ‘Decide? That suggests there’s a decision to be made. I didn’t think wild horses could prevent you from extending your time in the job, Jimmy.’

  Bliss grunted. ‘If I thought it’d be unopposed, I wouldn’t have to think twice. Do you actually think DCS Feeley is going to agree to my staying on?’

  ‘His won’t be the deciding vote. Nor the only voice heard. The others will look at your record and…’

  Bliss jumped in on the pause. ‘Yeah. Exactly. They study my record, and what do they find? “This man clears cases… but hold on, what are all these black marks against him?”’

  ‘Don’t do yourself down. The good you’ve done more than outweighs the bad.’

  ‘I think so, too. I’m not convinced they’ll see things the same way, though. Not when presented with a way of showing me the exit door.’

  ‘Have you considered taking retirement and signing up as a consultant?’

  ‘Considered, and rejected. First of all, they’d get to choose when to use me, and where. I want to stay on in Major Crimes at Thorpe Wood. If I can’t have that, I might as well walk. But the real kicker would be being a civilian, having no powers of arrest, and not being out on the streets with you lot. I’d be stuck taking witness statements all day. No – give me my music, my fish, and my boat over that option, thanks.’

  Chandler was quiet for a few seconds. A huge globe filled the space ahead of them, groups of people posing for photos around it. When she spoke next, her voice was soft and considered. ‘I notice you didn’t include Emily in that list. Twice you’ve mentioned relaxing with your music and your fish. You spoke about your garden, and this time you included your boat as well. But not Em.’

  Bliss breathed out heavily. ‘Pen, I know you two have become friendly. You conspired with her to put the two of us back together again, so you feel as if you have skin in the game. But a square piece needs a square hole for a reason, and I’m still not sure that’s what we are to each other. Not that I’m saying we’re over; that’s not it at all.’

  ‘Fair enough. You clearly need to work that out between you. I won’t interfere.’

  ‘You? Not interfere? That’d be a first.’

  She nudged him in the ribs. ‘Sod off! I can sit back and observe when I have to.’

  ‘I’m not convinced about that. Anyhow, all that shit is for another day.’

  ‘As is your future in the job. I don’t believe for one moment that you intend to walk away without a fight when the time comes.’

  He puffed out his lips and waved it off. ‘All of that is ahead of me. I’ll be prepared.’

  ‘Without seeming as if I’m interfering moments after I said I wouldn’t, what does Em have to say about it? I bet she’d rather you pulled the plug on this life.’

  ‘We haven’t discussed it. It’s my concern, my decision.’

  He was staring at a region on the globe, but Bliss could almost feel her eyes roll as she snapped back at him, ‘For goodness’ sake, Jimmy. What is wrong with you?’

  ‘What? I don’t know what you mean.’

  ‘Don’t give me that old cobblers. You need to grow up, old man. And fast. If you don’t, you might let her get away. You do that, and I guarantee you’ll regret it.’

  ‘This is you not interfering? I’d hate to think what you might say if you weren’t leaving it alone.’

  ‘Oh, balls! I only said that to shut you up. Jimmy, If you and Em are going to have any hope whatsoever, this is one of those discussions you have to have. Together.’

  He shook his head. ‘It’s a decision I have to make about my future. What’s so hard to understand about that?’

  This time she turned to confront him. ‘You’re not a stupid man, Jimmy – not that stupid, anyway. If you don’t take Emily into your confidence over a matter that’s going to have a direct impact on your future when you reach compulsory retirement age at sixty, what do you think that will tell her?’

  ‘I think–’

  ‘I’ll tell you what it will say to her: that you don’t see her as part of that future.’

  ‘You can’t answer your own questions, Pe
n. You’re supposed to wait for me to reply.’

  ‘I didn’t need you to reply. I was making a point. Let me tell you something – and please, for once do me a big favour and bloody well listen. You make that decision on your own and when she finds out, Emily will walk out of your life forever. Is that what you want?’

  ‘You don’t know that. You can’t possibly know that.’

  ‘Is it what you want?’

  Bliss took a breath. He checked his watch and saw they were late for their meeting. Eventually he said, ‘I don’t know what I want. Okay? I really don’t know.’

  Chandler nodded. ‘Then perhaps that’s all the answer you need.’

  Four

  They found Mazdaki waiting for them at a table in the Boosters café attached to the Soyuz lounge.

  She stood to greet the two detectives, offering a shy smile. ‘It is good to see you, Mr Jimmy.’ Her eyes sparkled, and to his astonishment she wrapped her arms around him for a moment and laid her head against his shoulder. Small and slight, the young woman wore western clothing and nothing to conceal her hair.

  ‘You probably don’t remember me,’ Chandler said, accepting a brief embrace. ‘I’m DS Chandler.’

  ‘Miss Penny, yes? Of course I remember.’

  Bliss found the café’s garish red seats an assault on the eyes, but the rocket and capsule parts suspended from the ceiling more than made up for it. He fetched them each a drink, arriving back at the table to find the young Iranian describing the various pieces on display around them. The three spent a few minutes idly chatting, but as Mazdaki was on a break, the conversation quickly became more formal. When Bliss mentioned the business card, she flashed a wide grin, dipped two fingers into her purse and pulled out the one he had handed her more than two years ago. It did not bear a single crease.

  ‘I would never give this to anybody else,’ she said. Her features became more earnest as she clutched it to her chest. ‘It is a precious item. It reminds me there is kindness in this world.’

  Bliss was touched by the comment. His aim in passing out cards had simply been to provide a means of requesting his help directly should they ever need it. He had not foreseen the possibility of it becoming some kind of talisman to any of them.

  Parastu Mazdaki had spoken no English at all when Bliss and Chandler first attempted to interview her, in a quiet hospital room after the Iranian and four other young women had been treated for a variety of conditions resulting from dehydration, malnutrition, and oxygen deprivation. They had gleaned all the information they required via an interpreter, and upon leaving the ward four days later, Mazdaki had been driven away to an undisclosed temporary location in the city. She now spoke the language with confidence.

  The two detectives learned that she had a boyfriend, who lived not far away from her flat in Belgrave and was studying architecture at De Montfort University. She was enjoying her life in the UK and had no desire to return home, despite missing her mother and two sisters. She told the two detectives that she had neither seen nor heard from any of the other young women with whom she had shared the transportation container since they parted ways.

  Her face creased suddenly as she spoke. ‘It is not something I enjoy remembering. In those few days which felt like many more, I fought to stay alive, but did not care if I died. I wanted both, if you understand?’

  ‘I think I can,’ Bliss told her. ‘We can never truly comprehend what you and the other girls went through. However, we can imagine.’

  ‘So you know why I can never let go of this card.’

  It wasn’t a question, but it had him nodding all the same. ‘I think I do. Which makes me wonder why one of you did give theirs to somebody else. Perhaps she was going somewhere new. Away from here. Somewhere she would no longer need it.’

  Mazdaki shook her head. ‘Even then, you keep it close. To remind you, yes?’

  ‘Clearly not all of you felt the same, Parastu. Our having the card in our possession proves that.’

  ‘They would have to take it from me. And only after a fight.’

  Bliss thought about that possibility. It had been crouching there in the back of his mind, where it was darkest. Yet he suggested something quite different. ‘What about if somebody else needed it more than you did? If they were in some kind of danger, maybe. Would you give it to them then?’

  ‘No. I would perhaps share the details. Your name. Your number. But I would never willingly hand over that card.’

  The woman’s simple, flat statement made Bliss feel as if he and Chandler were on a fool’s errand. There was a better than average chance that the card belonged to either the Somalian who had absconded, or the girl who chose to return to her home country – most likely the latter, because she would have no need of it. He was okay with that, provided the card had been willingly passed on to somebody else in dire need. Not that it had done their victim any good.

  Chandler and Mazdaki chatted for a while as Bliss became contemplative, but it soon became clear they would find nothing here to take them further. Both detectives received another hug as they said their goodbyes.

  Bliss was quiet as he drove back to Peterborough. He’d remembered Mazdaki from the night in the container, and from the hospital afterwards. She was the only one of the five who spoke no English at all, and her detachment from the others had been noticeable. Even trapped inside that steel box with other young girls who each shared the same degradation, she had been alone.

  Having been repeatedly raped and abused along the way by the men who took her, the young Iranian’s resolve had eventually been beaten out of her. The last thing any of the women were told before the steel container door clanged shut to seal them inside was that they were headed for a life and a destination where they could expect much of the same on a daily basis.

  Bliss had often wondered why, if they believed that was all life had in store for them, any of them had fought so hard to live. Each of them had clung on so desperately, when it would have been far easier to give up, to succumb to their conditions and slip away. He assumed it had to be hope that kept them going. Hope was not something in which he was a great believer.

  ***

  Yeva Savchuk worked as many shifts at Frankie and Benny’s as the owner would give her. By the time they arrived at the restaurant, Chandler had made an update call to Bishop, and Bliss had taken a rather irate one from DCI Warburton. Apparently they disagreed on Glen Ashton’s role; Warburton wanted him to shadow Bliss and Chandler. For the first time, Bliss thought he might be able to use the demotion to his advantage.

  ‘With respect, boss,’ he said. ‘Surely any NCA involvement needs to be at SIO level. That’s either you or Bish as your deputy. It’s certainly not me any more.’

  After accusing him of being a slippery bugger living too close to the edge for comfort, his Chief Inspector relented and told Bliss to report to her the moment he arrived back at Thorpe Wood. He yearned for the days when the unit’s DCI had made use of her assigned office space on the floor above Major Crimes. Warburton’s predecessor, Alicia Edwards, liked to remain close to the Superintendent. Her replacement, however, had cleared out the squad’s break room and settled herself in there, making it almost impossible for Bliss to hide himself away and remain unseen.

  It was lunchtime, so they both ordered food. He opted for a chicken wrap, while Chandler went for the Mediterranean salad. Savchuk joined them when they were close to being done. Tall and slender, fine blonde hair tied back in a long ponytail, the young woman was all smiles. Her skin shone with vigour. When Chandler brought up the subject of her partner’s business card, Savchuk held up a finger and walked away from their booth. They watched as she disappeared beyond a door marked Staff Only. For a moment, Bliss wondered if she might make a run for it, but she returned seconds later with his card in her hand.

  Twisting the little white rectangle between her fingers, she spoke unfalteringly about that night on the airbase and about her recuperation and life since. Other than Mar
ta Lsenko, her fellow Ukrainian, she knew nothing about the young women she had shared a container with. Lsenko had become a friend, she explained. The two had worked together at the restaurant for a short time, but the physical demands and type of work had not been to Lsenko’s liking. She’d lasted no longer than four months in the job.

  ‘So what’s she up to these days?’ Bliss asked. ‘How is she making a living?’

  Savchuk wrinkled her nose and turned away. Her strong cheekbones glistened and her full lips had become a thin slit. Eventually she shrugged and faced them again, folding her arms across her chest.

  ‘I do not like to say. Marta, she try to talk me into same thing. She say I make a lot of money doing what she does.’

  ‘Yeva, is she a prostitute?’ Bliss asked softly.

  ‘No. She… is escort. She has photographs on website. She meet with men and pretend to be girlfriend, yes?’

  Bliss nodded, not wishing to point out the obvious. ‘But you don’t want to do that?’

  She shook her head and gave a little shudder. ‘No. I not like showing myself off in photograph. Nor to men. They ask you to wear… not much. Sexy things, you know?’

  ‘Lingerie,’ Chandler suggested. ‘Stockings and suspenders, that sort of thing.’

  ‘Yes. This. I tell Marta I will stay here and do what I do. Soon I am manager. I live okay. I tell her I have no need of this thing she does.’

  ‘Do you know if she still has her card?’ Bliss asked.

  ‘I think yes. But I am not so sure.’

  Bliss huffed out a sigh of frustration. Already he could see this was going to be a dead end. Locating whoever had given their victim the card was essential for forward momentum. His team thrived on such impetus, and learning which girl had given up their card would have been a great start; his money was still on the one who elected to return to her homeland. He thanked Savchuk, wished her well, paid the bill and got out of there. The young woman gave him a peck on the cheek before they left, thanking both detectives once again for rescuing her and the others. Bliss brushed it aside – it was his job, after all.