by Lee Weeks
‘I am, sir. We’ve just looked at the footage outside Cain’s when Tanya left the night she was killed. We’re still looking but there’s a pretty good chance Justin de Lange was the man in the taxi with her.’ Davidson looked away, annoyed.
‘Doesn’t sound like you have conclusive proof to me. If you’re thinking of getting him in for questioning it has to be more than that.’
‘We’re working on it, sir. I just talked to the receptionist at the Mansfield. Doctor Harding put Tanya’s death at six a.m. By seven-thirty a.m. on that morning one of the Mansfield’s light aircraft had taken off. She says Justin de Lange booked it and he asked her to organize the transport of human organs to the plane.’
Carter waited for Davidson to speak. Davidson looked towards the window where the day was dark with icy rain and sleet hammered on the pane.
‘And you’re sure you have enough evidence against him to bring him in?’
‘I want to force him to give us a DNA sample. We have Tanya in the morgue. She has enough DNA left on her to convict someone. Justin de Lange has links to Digger. He’s got too much going for him now. We need to bring him in.’
‘Okay. Bring him in for questioning. No squad cars.’
Chapter 59
Ebony was on the way to the canteen when Carmichael went into his office to call her.
‘You know Exmouth Market?’
‘Yes.’
‘There’s a small café on the corner of Duncan Crescent. I’ll meet you there in forty minutes. Ebony . . . you on your own . . . no tricks now. I trust you.’
‘Carmichael’s set up a meet, Sarge.’ She had found Carter back at his desk. ‘Should we tell Davidson? He’ll put out an alert.’
Carter thought about it. ‘If he gets pulled in, we lose any help he could have given.’
‘It’s risky to ask for help from him.’
‘Yeah . . . I know, Ebb . . . but Carmichael is the closest we have to an undercover officer at the moment. Let’s give him a little longer and see if it works in our favour.’
‘I want to talk to Davidson, Sarge. I don’t feel like I can take the responsibility of it.’
‘Then you do that, Ebony. I’ll come with you.’
They stood in Davidson’s office.
‘How long have you known that he wasn’t on his farm?’
‘Not long, sir.’
‘Did he have anything to do with Sonny’s death?’
Ebony shook her head slowly. ‘We’re not sure, sir, but he could have, and now Justin de Lange isn’t answering his phone and the hospital receptionist hasn’t seen him. He’s missed two appointments.’
Davidson’s eyes went from Ebony to Carter.
‘With respect, sir, Carmichael’s got information we need. We have to work with him now. Alex Tapp is not going to be kept alive indefinitely. They must know we’re on to them.’
‘Okay.’ Davidson said. ‘So go and see Carmichael and tell him about this new development. This might make him see things differently. Tell him I will do my best to help him when this is all over. I want you to be extra careful, Ebony. You keep in contact throughout. We don’t know what’s in Carmichael’s head. If we think he had something to do with killing Sonny then we have to accept this is a man who is on a vendetta that we can’t control. The fact that we’re using him doesn’t make it any more palatable. You be careful.’
‘Yes, sir. What do you want me to tell him? How much should he know?’
‘You can tell him about the Bloodrunners. Tell him about our misgivings about Justin de Lange. Does he know where he is, Ebb? You think he has him?’
‘I don’t know what to think, sir.’
Ebony walked across to the café on the corner of the road. She bought her coffee and went over to a table where she could watch the approach.
The windows were steaming up. A small plastic Christmas tree in the corner flicked on and off.
She watched Carmichael as he crossed towards the café. He ordered a coffee and sat down opposite her. The hands that firmly held his coffee cup were still farmer’s hands but he was a million miles removed from the farm.
Ebony was digging her fingernails into her face without realizing. She saw in Carmichael’s face someone who bore little resemblance to the person she’d met at the farm. He looked frightening: his face was dark. She had a feeling of dread inside her. He was capable of anything. He was lost to reality now; more than he’d ever been, and he had that one trait that Ebony recognized in him: he didn’t care whether he lived or died. He was hanging on till the ride was over. No one to leave behind. No one to mourn for him the way he mourned for Louise and Sophie. She wondered how many times he must have contemplated suicide in those lonely nights on the farm. But there was a look of purpose in his eyes now. He had left the farm for one reason – to hunt down the people who murdered his wife and child.
‘Harding must be able to help with it,’ he said. ‘She must know who could have done this operation; who was around thirteen years ago. Who was corrupt enough or stupid enough or even ambitious enough to have done it and why.’
‘Doctor Harding has been working on it, I know. Davidson is also committed to finding out who killed your family.’
‘Why – because now it suits him? Because now he’s worried for his pension? Or because he doesn’t have any choice now? Don’t bullshit me; you’re worth more than that.’
She shook her head and held his eyes contact. ‘He says to tell you he’ll support you when this is over.’
Carmichael looked away for a few minutes; when he turned back he nodded.
‘What does he want?’
‘There is a kid missing, kidnapped.’ She got out the photos of Alex and placed it on the table in front of them. His eyes scanned them. ‘Alex Tapp, he’s fourteen, been missing several weeks now, we found his DNA in Blackdown Barn. He was the lad wearing the Arsenal shirt.’
‘How do you know the Bloodrunners still have him?’
‘We don’t, but they didn’t kill him at Blackdown Barn. They must be saving him for someone special.’
‘Yes. You’re right. He’s the perfect match for someone.’
‘There is hope. They are still here. But I can’t see them being here for much longer. They must know we’re getting close. We’ve put Martingale under surveillance. We are going to bring Justin de Lange in for questioning. When we can find him.’
‘What have you got on him?’
‘We believe he killed Tanya, the dancer from Cain’s, There is CCTV footage of a man with long blond hair in the back of the taxi with her. We don’t have the proof we need.’
‘What proof do you need?’
‘She was raped – there’s semen, and fingerprints in the flesh on her shoulders where she was held down. We don’t have Justin’s prints to compare them with.
He has all sorts of history. He was accused of rape in his younger years. Mother paid it off. We think he must be one of the Bloodrunners. He has shares in a company called Remed Ltd, which manufactures cosmetic surgery products from cadavers. We think Digger and Justin are working together to supply companies with bodies for research, organ transplants, cadaver products; it’s big business.’
‘Yeah . . . I know. It’s a perfect way to get rid of someone completely and make a few quid on the side. What can you tell me about the identity of the other Bloodrunners? Who are they? What about Justin de Lange’s wife?’
‘Nikki de Lange? We’re not sure. She doesn’t seem in control of things, not even of her own life. We think it’s a sham marriage. We went round to their flat but no one’s been living there. He says she moved back in with her dad. That would figure except surveillance say they’ve only seen her come and go and not actually stay the night there. But she seems to be the child from the attic. She never really existed on paper: she’s an odd woman but I think her life has been odd. It looks like Martingale even did some work on her face. It’s a strange set-up. It’s not healthy.’
‘How much did Mar
tingale know of what Justin de Lange was doing? How much is he involved?’ asked Carmichael.
‘We don’t know. When we find Justin we’ll ask him. He could well have been involved thirteen years ago. He was working for Martingale then and he was already in with Digger. The Bloodrunners may have changed their team slightly in the last thirteen years but the core remains the same: Chichester – maybe that’s Justin, maybe not – Digger probably, and there is a woman . . . she lured Alex Tapp. Michael Tapp is having an affair. Maybe it’s his girlfriend. We are watching him. Please, Carmichael, we need you to work with us . . . for the sake of Alex, don’t kill the only hope we have of finding him. The Bloodrunners will know we’re on to them. They will carry out what they came to do or they will just decide to cut their losses and run. Do you know where Justin de Lange is?’
Carmichael looked away, his eyes filled with reflections from the lights on the Christmas tree. He turned back.
‘I can’t help you. You have to save the boy on your own. I came into this to get revenge; get justice for my wife and child, and that’s what I intend to do.’
Chapter 60
‘He bought three tickets.’
‘Did you check it?’
Carter and Ebony parked up outside the Tapps’ house.
‘Yes, Sarge, ticket sales confirm it. It was tagged going into the grounds. I’ve sent you a text with the details. Aaron said the seat was empty next to them. Whoever used it didn’t get as far as the seat but they did come into the grounds. They did go through the gates.’
‘And it wasn’t the father?’
‘Unless he changed his mind, went in but didn’t go up to the stand. He could have waited at the bar.’
‘Except he wasn’t going to meet them there. He waited for them at the Tube station.’
‘We haven’t found him on the CCTV footage yet.’
‘Right, let’s sort this out,’ said Carter, getting out of the car.
‘Mrs Tapp . . . sorry to bother you again,’ Ebony apologized as she smiled. Carter was looking down the street. He hadn’t slept well. He’d drunk too much. Now it fought with his brain. The conversation with Cabrina the other night still bothered him. He had analysed it so many times. He could see what he said wrong. What did he say it for? He had sounded like he was ‘putting up with’ the baby for the sake of having her home. Well, maybe it had been like that at the beginning but it wasn’t intentional. It was alright for her – she had something growing inside her, changing her hormones, making her ready. He just had blind panic growing inside. But he would be alright. They would be alright, and the baby would fit in. He better think of some way to get her back before she became settled where she was. He better make it good.
They followed Mrs Tapp inside. ‘We need a quick word . . . is your husband in?’
‘Mike’ll be home in a minute. What is it you need to see him about?’
They took a right into the lounge. The room held oversized tapestry sofas in a reasonably small space; there were stripped pine floors and white walls with arty posters.
Ebony and Helen left Carter looking at the book collection as Helen picked up Alfie, who was whinging half-heartedly, and they made their way towards the kitchen.
‘How are things?’ Ebony asked.
Helen Tapp obviously hadn’t found the time to brush her hair that day. She looked like she was nursing a hangover. She put Alfie into a highchair, put a plastic pelican bib around his neck and went to fetch him a biscuit from the cupboard.
‘It must be very difficult for you? Does Alfie go to nursery?’ Helen shook her head. ‘It must be hard work being the one who stays at home for the kids.’ Helen didn’t answer; she bent down to give Alfie his biscuit.
‘I chose it.’ She kissed his head
‘What did you do before you had kids?’
‘Years ago, before Alex came along, I was in publishing. After he went to school I went to work for a literary agent, handled their foreign rights deals. It was really interesting, going to the book fairs, talking to authors.’
‘Did you ever think of going back to it?’
‘I haven’t since Alfie was born . . . Alfie wasn’t planned . . . a miracle baby . . .’ She smiled and then turned away and began cleaning the work surface.
‘You’ve been married for a long time, haven’t you?’
‘Eighteen years.’ She didn’t turn around as she answered. She was searching for sugar to put in Ebony’s cup.
‘You must have been very young when you married.’
‘I was twenty.’
She turned around and leant her back against the counter, staring out at the garden, the low winter sun in her face, her eyes pools of sadness. Her face was dry and grey. Through the bay window the day was not getting any lighter and it was only just past eleven. Freezing rain hammered against the windowpane. ‘I suppose I was young, but I was sure . . . then . . .’ She turned back from the window, close to tears.
They heard the sound of the front door opening, the noise of traffic driving through the rain.
‘Michael?’
They heard him throw his keys on the hall table. ‘Who else would it be?’ they heard him say.
Michael Tapp stopped at the lounge door. He wasn’t expecting to see Carter. He looked embarrassed at first and then indignant.
‘Any news?’
Carter shook his head. ‘I’m sorry to disturb you. Do you have the afternoon off?’ Michael Tapp was dressed in a suit.
‘No.’ He blinked a few times, gave a look that said: what business is it of yours? ‘Excuse me . . .’
They heard his footsteps going up to the bedroom. Ebony watched Helen as she stopped what she was doing, frozen with one of Alfie’s toys in her hands, listening to her husband. She knew every meaning of hard or soft feet on the stairs, quick or slow pace, whistling to himself or breathing through his nose. His disappointment in her had a language all of its own.
Ebony saw Carter looking at her from the hallway. He nodded, flicked his head towards the stairwell. ‘Helen . . . can you just tell your husband that I need to ask him a couple of questions? I’ll look after Alfie for you . . .’ said Ebony.
Helen didn’t need asking twice: she was itching to go to him, he had a magnetic pull for her, but it brought her nothing but pain.
Ebony listened to their words coming from upstairs. She heard the heated exchange that was squashed into a loud whisper.
Helen walked down the stairs, blowing her nose. She came back into the kitchen, bent down and picked up Alfie’s dropped biscuit from the floor.
‘He’s coming.’
After five minutes Michael came downstairs. He had changed into T-shirt and tracksuit trousers.
‘My wife says you want to talk to me?’ He went into the lounge where Carter was looking at the bookshelves.
‘Is she alright?’ Carter turned back from the bookcase and nodded in the direction of the kitchen.
‘She is finding this a great strain, as we both are. It’s not easy for any of us at the moment. What do you need to know?’
‘I need a DNA test from you.’ Carter took one out of his pocket, cleaned his hands with a wipe and tore off the top then handed it to Tapp. ‘Swab it around the inside of your cheeks for a minute. Make sure it’s good and coated, turn it as you press; we need the cheek cells not saliva.’ Tapp handed it back when he had finished. ‘You been a Gunner all your life?’ Carter picked up the picture of Michael Tapp standing with David Seaman outside the old Arsenal stadium.
Michael nodded. ‘Since I was a boy and used to live near the Arsenal. My dad had a season ticket.’
‘I support Spurs.’
Michael Tapp grinned and groaned. ‘Someone’s got to.’
‘Yeah, I know . . . wish I could go more often; I’m always working and you know how expensive tickets are these days, don’t you?’ Michael Tapp’s face registered that he knew when he was being led. His smile disappeared; he began tidying up Alfie’s toys. ‘You must have paid
a lot for three tickets.’ Carter got out his phone and checked a memo. ‘Upper tier, block 102, Row 11. Three seats – 310, 311, 312 . . . very nice.’ He looked up at Tapp. ‘You bought yourself a ticket but you didn’t go to the match with the boys?’
‘That’s right.’ He stacked Alfie’s toys into a corner.
‘But you intended to?’ Tapp started shaking his head. ‘You bought three tickets.’
Tapp stopped what he was doing for a moment then renewed his tidying at double the speed. ‘That’s right. I bought three tickets but I changed my mind.’
‘Why was that?’
He shrugged. ‘I intended to go at one point, bought them way in advance, but things changed. Alex asked me not to go with them. I thought about it, and decided the boys were old enough to go on their own. I was going to suggest another friend have my ticket instead of me but Alex didn’t want that.’
‘Aaron’s mother said she thought you would be going with them. She had no idea.’
‘Really? I thought Alex and Aaron had agreed to it between them.’ He made an unconvincing attempt to look surprised. His face turned red.
‘What did you do while they were at the match?’
‘I don’t know . . . had a coffee somewhere, did a bit of window-shopping . . . what is this . . . do I need to account for my every move? Why don’t you put the energy into finding Alex instead of harassing us . . . you can see the state my wife is in . . . she’s very brittle at the moment.’
‘Did you change your mind and go in after all?’
‘No.’
Michael Tapp looked towards the door of the lounge. ‘Where’s your colleague?’
‘I expect she’s chatting with Mrs Tapp. How do you think she’s coping with all this?’
‘The same way we both are. We’re devastated, what do you expect?’ He looked at Carter accusingly. ‘Someone’s walked away with our son in broad daylight.’
‘Not just someone . . .’
Tapp gave a small intake of breath but kept his eyes glued on Carter.