A Price to Pay

by Paul Gitsham

  ‘I definitely reckon the murder happened at 13.10,’ said Pymm. ‘Biljana’s been out the back with Cullen for ten minutes and suddenly her sister runs back there. She makes no mention of that in her statement. In fact, she claims not to have left the front desk in all that time.’

  ‘In which case Biljana lied about finishing the massage and heading upstairs at half-past, with the murder taking place roughly five minutes later,’ said Hutchinson.

  Ruskin pointed at a yellow Post-it Note. ‘According to the call log, Malina phoned an unlisted number at twelve minutes past one for twelve minutes. Who the hell was she calling and what were they talking about for that long?’

  ‘I’ll bet that whatever they were talking about had something to do with whatever Malina was doing to the reception computer, since she calls that number again for two minutes whilst she’s using it,’ chipped in Richardson.

  ‘The same time that Biljana supposedly heard Cullen scream and saw him being murdered,’ said Ruskin.

  ‘Could they claim that they were just a bit confused over the timings?’ asked Martinez.

  ‘They can try, but I looked at the video again; after she finished using the computer she goes back off-screen again,’ said Pymm. ‘Malina’s defence might claim that was when she heard her sister call out and she went back to investigate.’

  ‘I listened to the 999 call at 13.40,’ said Ruskin. ‘Malina clearly tells the operator that the murder only just happened. The operator tells her to stay on the line, but she hangs up.’

  ‘Can we identify the owner of the mobile phone Malina called?’ asked Warren.

  ‘It’s an unregistered pay-as-you-go,’ said Pymm. ‘I’ve asked for its logs, to see if that gives us a clue. Fortunately, the carrier is one of the major UK networks, so we should get them quicker than the sisters’.’

  ‘Why don’t we just ask her about it?’ said Ruskin.

  ‘My thoughts exactly,’ said Warren. ‘Time to bring them both in.’

  Chapter 22

  Biljana Dragić and her older sister Malina were still in their pyjamas, eating pizza and watching Love Actually with Serbian subtitles, when a team of uniformed officers appeared on their doorstep. Within an hour, the two women were sitting in separate interview suites, awaiting their solicitors and translators. Grayson had grumbled about the cost, but had agreed to foot the bill for two different translators. The last thing the team wanted was for the same translator to work with both suspects, and inadvertently pass information between them. Similarly, the two masseuses had been appointed different duty solicitors. Warren had worked with them both before, and he trusted them to play by the rules; there would be no communication between the two interviewees without his say-so.

  In the meantime, Warren and their team planned their interview strategy.

  ‘We’ll play them against each other if necessary. I want to interview them both, so the interviews need to be staggered, but we can pretend that the other sister is spilling the beans next door.’

  It was a dirty trick, but legal as long as the team was careful not to bend the truth or lie outright.

  ‘We’ll tackle Malina first. I want to know who she was calling during that twelve-minute call and what the hell she was doing to that reception computer. We’ve confiscated her phone already, so I want to know her PIN.

  ‘Biljana is the younger of the two, and supposedly came across the body. She has to be the number-one suspect at the moment. We’ll take her back through the timings and see if we can trip her up. I also want to ask them some more about Anton Rimington; if there is a link between them, I want to know what it is.’

  The interview suite was crowded with five people in it. Ruskin had set up the video and audio recorders, and everyone had introduced themselves for the record.

  Warren started the interview by going through the sequence of events the afternoon of the murder. The older sister stuck rigidly to her previous statement, her answers sounding fluent and practised to Warren, even though he didn’t speak a word of Serbian.

  ‘Let’s go back over the moment that you said you heard Biljana call out. You said that happened a little after one-thirty. After your sister had finished the massage and gone back upstairs to wash her hands.’

  ‘Da.’

  Even without the translator, Warren had picked up that meant ‘yes’.

  ‘You then called the emergency services a few minutes later, after you and Biljana tried to resuscitate Mr Cullen?’

  ‘Da.’

  ‘According to your phone log, that was about one-forty. Correct?’

  Malina shifted slightly in her chair. That was the first mention that Warren had made of her call logs.

  ‘Where were you before you ran to help your sister?’

  ‘I told you already, I was sitting at the reception desk.’

  ‘Doing what?’

  She shrugged. ‘I already said. I was watching a video on my phone. It was quiet, there were no customers.’

  ‘And you didn’t leave there between Mr Cullen arriving for his massage, just before one p.m., and hearing your sister scream?’

  ‘Ne.’

  Warren pressed start on the video screen behind him.

  ‘I’m showing Ms Dragić exhibit 2015/12/NH6382-12, surveillance footage taken from the camera mounted in front of the reception desk.’

  In front of him, the young Serbian masseuse paled, and started to chew her bottom lip.

  ‘As you can see, at twelve minutes past one, you sit upright, before running in the direction of the massage rooms. That’s about twenty minutes before you said that you heard your sister scream, and nearly thirty minutes before you called the emergency services. That’s quite a discrepancy.’

  Warren waited patiently whilst the translator relayed his comments. The young woman paled even more. After a few moments’ consideration, she started to speak again.

  ‘I must have been mistaken. I wasn’t wearing a watch.’

  ‘What were you doing in those thirty minutes?’

  ‘We were trying to stop the bleeding.’

  ‘For half an hour? Why didn’t you call an ambulance immediately?’

  ‘We panicked.’ Her bottom lip trembled, and Warren could see the pinpricks of tiny tears starting at the corners of her eyes. ‘We were confused and scared. We thought he might come back and kill us.’

  ‘Who was this man? Tell me again what he looked like.’

  ‘He was dressed in black and he wore a hooded sweater. That’s all we saw.’

  Warren opened the folder on the desk and produced a colour headshot. He slid it across the table. ‘Do you recognize this man?’

  She glanced at the picture, then away.

  ‘No.’

  Warren waited a moment, before nodding his acceptance. ‘OK, so let’s go back to this man dressed in black. You say he climbed in the window?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘How do you know that, Malina? You were at the front desk.’

  She paused. ‘Billy told me.’

  ‘According to your sister, she had finished Mr Cullen’s massage, and had gone upstairs to wash her hands. That means the massage lasted barely ten minutes.’

  Even as he waited for the translation, Warren could see that she had already understood enough of what he’d said to realize their error.

  ‘She must have been mistaken. Maybe she went upstairs to get some more oil, or another towel?’

  Everyone in the room recognized the lie, but Warren decided not to address it. He’d let her sweat about it for a while.

  ‘OK, let’s move on.’

  He removed a sheet of paper from his folder. ‘I am showing Ms Dragić exhibit 2015/12/NH6382-18, a mobile phone call log. Is this your mobile phone number?’

  She glanced at the top of the page and nodded.

  ‘According to the call log, you made a twelve-minute call to this number, two minutes after you heard your sister scream, and you ran back to help her. Who was the call to, and what did
you discuss?’

  The pause after the translation was even longer this time.

  ‘I can’t remember.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘I can’t remember. It was confusing and Billy was screaming.’ She brightened slightly. ‘Maybe I dialled the wrong number.’

  ‘The emergency service number in the UK is 999. Mobile phone numbers are eleven digits long. That’s a very big mistake to make, Malina.’

  ‘Maybe I pressed the wrong button and called a recent number?’

  Even before the translation came through, he could see in her eyes that she knew she’d misspoken. If the number was in her recent call list, then surely she knew who it was?

  ‘And you didn’t hang up for twelve minutes?’

  ‘I was panicking.’

  ‘According to the log, you called that number a second time, eleven minutes later, this time for two minutes. Another wrong number?’

  She nodded, the tears now starting to flow. She’d backed herself into a corner, and she knew it.

  Warren turned to the screen again. ‘I’m showing Ms Dragić more of the surveillance footage, starting from one-thirty-five, the approximate time that she initiated her second phone call to the unidentified number.’

  The video ran forward silently, showing the empty reception area. Everyone in the room stared at the screen; the translator in unabashed fascination, the solicitor scribbling notes on his pad, Malina wide-eyed in panic. She knew what they would see.

  Unable to tear her eyes away, she watched herself re-enter the frame, her phone clamped to her ear. Pressing a button on her phone, she laid it beside the reception desk computer, before manipulating the keyboard and mouse. After just over a minute, she left again. Warren stopped the playback.

  ‘What were you doing to the computer, Malina?’

  She shook her head and said nothing.

  ‘You should know that our Forensics team are currently examining the computer as evidence. You can save us all a lot of time by telling us what you did to it, and why you did it.’

  Even with her accent, ‘No comment,’ was clearly understandable. Warren wondered if her solicitor and translator had introduced her to the term before the interview commenced, or if she had picked the phrase up watching English TV.

  ‘There are still another two minutes before you called the ambulance, Malina. What were you doing in that time?’

  Again, she shook her head. ‘No comment.’

  Warren sighed. ‘Look, Malina, you must tell us what happened. It’s clear that you have been lying to us. In fact, I’m starting to wonder if there even was a mysterious man who climbed through the window. Lying to the police is a serious offence in this country. Come clean and tell us the truth, and it will go better for you.’

  She said nothing, shaking her head as she buried her face in her hands.

  ‘What really happened? Are you protecting your sister?’

  Silence.

  ‘Who were you calling? Maybe if we get their side of the story, they can help you.’

  Again, nothing.

  Warren tried again. ‘We know that Stevie Cullen was a nasty man. Did he do something to Billy? Are you trying to protect her?’

  She took a deep breath and looked up, staring Warren directly in the eye. ‘Mr Cullen was killed by a man who climbed through the window. Billy and I had nothing to do with it.’

  She folded her arms and sat back in her chair.

  Warren waited for her to say something more. She didn’t.

  ‘Interview suspended.’

  Malina Dragić was led back to a cell, whilst Warren and the team regrouped.

  ‘You’ve just been fed a pack of lies,’ said Grimshaw, who’d watched the interview on a monitor.

  ‘I won’t disagree with you,’ said Warren. ‘The question is what is she hiding?’

  ‘I think she’s protecting her sister,’ said Grimshaw. ‘I reckon Cullen did something to her and she killed him. Now they’re both trying to cover it up.’

  ‘Which would explain a lot,’ said Ruskin, ‘but it clearly wasn’t just them involved. Who was she calling? Never mind the cock-and-bull story about dialling a wrong number, surely she’d have just hung up and tried again, instead of staying on the line for twelve minutes?’

  ‘My money’s on her aunt – who else is she going to call?’ said Grimshaw.

  Pymm shook her head. ‘I don’t think so. She called her aunt after they had been interviewed at the scene. I’ve identified that call on the log, and her Aunt Silvija is a different number entirely.’

  ‘Then we need to find out who that number belongs to,’ said Warren.

  ‘I’m hoping to get the call log back from that number sooner rather than later, as it’s another UK-based carrier,’ said Pymm, ‘but it’s a tiny little provider and they’re notoriously poor at responding quickly. As soon as I’ve got it, we’ll see if we can figure out who it belongs to and where they fit into this.’

  ‘And what about the computer? We really need to know what the hell she was doing to it,’ said Warren.

  ‘I’ve flagged it as a rush job,’ said Pymm, ‘but Pete Robertson says they’re snowed under. They just seized a half-dozen computers full of suspected kiddy porn, some of which is recent and may show ongoing abuse. That’s the priority at the moment. He might get something to us by next week.’

  ‘By which time, we’ll have had to either charge them or release them on bail,’ grumbled Grimshaw.

  ‘Can we get it looked at by an external contractor? They’re usually quicker,’ said Ruskin.

  Pymm made a rude noise. ‘No chance. I suggested it to DSI Grayson, and he nearly had a stroke. They’ll never authorize the cost for the likes of Stevie Cullen.’

  What she said was sad, but true. Despite the best intentions of Warren and teams like his, funding was a political issue; not all murder victims were equal. Sometimes, he wished that the accountants could meet a victim’s loved ones face-to-face. Rosie and Seamus Cullen’s grief was as raw as any he’d encountered.

  ‘We still don’t know if either of the two girls was involved in the killing,’ said Richardson. ‘We know that Anton Rimington has visited the parlour for a massage, so Malina is probably lying about not recognizing him and neither could rule out Ray Dorridge when we asked them about him before. I think both of those men are still suspects, alongside plenty of other pissed-off husbands and boyfriends.’

  ‘Does this “man in black” even exist?’ asked Hutchinson, his tone sceptical.

  ‘If he does and he threatened them, then that could explain the time discrepancy,’ said Ruskin. ‘He could have demanded that they delay calling the ambulance for thirty minutes to give him some more time to escape.’

  ‘And it might explain why Malina still won’t back down from her story,’ said Ruskin. ‘What’s the betting that the two of them got a really good look at the killer and are protecting his identity? If he’s still out there, they’re probably terrified that he’ll come back for them.’

  ‘Which brings us back to the question of who they were calling,’ said Hutchinson. ‘Presumably the killer had scarpered by then. I can’t imagine him letting them use their phones until he was gone.’

  ‘Of course, it could still be a conspiracy,’ said Richardson. ‘Ray Dorridge, Anton Rimington, or somebody else angry with Cullen arranged with the two girls to have him killed. You said that you thought it was an inside job, Sir.’

  ‘That would answer the question of how come the killer knew that Cullen was having a massage at that time,’ said Ruskin. ‘If he was killed within fifteen minutes of arriving, as the CCTV suggests, that doesn’t leave the killer long to figure out he was there.’

  Warren let out a puff of breath. They were going in circles; did the man in black exist, and if so, did the two women know him? Were they involved directly or indirectly in the killing, or were they just parties to it after the fact? And if the man in black didn’t exist, which of the two sisters wielded the knif
e, and why?

  The room fell silent.

  ‘The killer could have followed Cullen,’ suggested Martinez after a while.

  ‘On the off chance he goes somewhere suitable to kill him?’ scoffed Grimshaw.

  Martinez scowled at him.

  ‘If it was a conspiracy, then that clears up something that was bothering me,’ interjected Warren hastily, eager to stop the two men from bickering again. Was it just his imagination, or were the two friends becoming more argumentative? Could it be due to competition between them to become the next DI, if that vacancy became permanently available?

  Warren continued, ‘How was the killer able to open that squeaky window, without alerting Cullen? If Biljana said that she needed to open it for some fresh air, say, then she could have done it without raising Cullen’s suspicions.’

  ‘If it was a conspiracy, then there must be some previous link between the suspects and the massage parlour. Rachel, can you go back through the customer records again and see if any other names of interest have booked a massage there? Look for initials, maybe, or unknown mobile phone numbers.’

  ‘I’ll have another look,’ said Pymm, but her tone was doubtful. ‘We already know that Vicki Barclay has had massages there in the past, but she always seemed to come in with Anton Rimington; it’d take some guts for her to come in with Cullen,’ said Pymm.

  ‘Maybe Cullen liked the danger,’ said Ruskin. ‘He seemed the type.’

  ‘Ray Dorridge doesn’t strike me as the sort of bloke to enjoy a relaxing, scented back massage,’ said Martinez.

  ‘Don’t be so judgemental,’ said Grimshaw. ‘Farming’s a hard job.’

  ‘OK, we all have plenty to do,’ said Warren. ‘Team leaders, be sure to dole out the work to our visiting colleagues from Welwyn. Moray, shall we go and see what Biljana has to say for herself?’

  The interview with Biljana Dragić started in exactly the same way as that with her older sister. Like her sister, she gave precisely the same account as she had the night of the murder. By now it was clear to Warren that the two girls had rehearsed the story between them.

  However, as before, she too was unable to account for the discrepancies in the timing. By the time Warren had finished picking apart her story, she was tearful and uncooperative.