What was she afraid of? Of being alone ... or of being judged for having a failed marriage and being a single mum? She could sense there was something holding her back from packing his bags for him and chucking him out. No one would blame her.
Sitting back on the sofa, Ruth switched on the television. The build-up to the general election was growing.
A BBC journalist was talking to the news anchor. ‘If the polls are to be believed, then Tony Blair is going to transform the political colour of the whole country.’
She wasn’t in the mood. She turned off the television and picked up the translation of Mujic’s diary again. Turning to the final entry, she wondered if there was anything that might give them a lead. The name Simo Petrovic was written down with the word KILL that was underlined. Then on the other side of the page was the list of four names - Mersad Avdic. Katerina Selimovic. Safet Dudic. Hamzar Mujic.
Ruth then thumbed back to the pages that covered Mujic’s life before he came to Britain and began to read again.
February 1992 – By the middle of February, every Muslim or Bosniak from our village had been taken to a ceramic’s factory called Keraterm. Men, women and children all lived in the same camp, but we had separate sleeping quarters. There was still no word of what had happened to my beloved Amina, but I had to fear the worst. I kept my thoughts from Sanja and said that her mother was just in another camp and she would be safe and well.
My great friend Katerina looked after my Sanja while they were in the women’s quarters. I couldn’t thank her enough. Some of the Serbian soldiers prowled the female quarters at night and raped girls. Katerina made sure that Sanja was hidden away and safe. For that, I thank Allah.
After about a month, Katerina disappeared. I heard many rumours of where she had been taken. A nearby barracks had a building which had become a brothel. Someone told me that Katerina had been taken there with several other women. It would be another eighteen months until I saw poor Katerina and learned of the cruelty that had been inflicted upon her.
Ruth didn’t want to read anymore. It was just too upsetting. However, it had steeled her resolve to find Petrovic. She had put in requests for PNC checks on Katerina Selimovic and Safet Dudic but was still waiting to get them back. How were they linked? Were they all Bosnian Muslims living in London? Were they aware of Simo Petrovic’s presence in London? And then she had a darker thought. Was Simo Petrovic aware of the identities of the four on that list, two of whom were now dead? She made a mental note to check the electoral registers and utilities records first thing in the morning to see if the other two could be located quickly.
There was the sound of a key in the lock and the front door opened. It was Dan. Ruth’s heart sank. She had hoped for more time on her own to sit and watch the telly.
Walking into the living room, Dan shuffled awkwardly. He had obviously had a few drinks. He looked at her for a moment with a curious expression. It was as if he was waiting for her to say something.
He is acting very strangely. Why hasn’t he just sat down?
‘Are you all right, Dan?’ Not that I actually care.
‘No, not really,’ he replied.
‘Are you going to sit down?’ Ruth asked in an almost bemused tone.
‘We need to talk. Or at least I need to talk to you.’
Ruth knew exactly what was coming next. He was leaving.
‘Right. Do you want to sit down when we talk?’ Ruth said with a sarcastic edge. She wasn’t going to make this easy for him.
Why do I feel nothing? Why do I feel a massive sense of relief?
‘I think I’m going to move out for a bit,’ Dan said as if he had been waiting for hours to get those words out.
Ruth looked at him dispassionately. ‘Okay.’
‘We’re not getting on. I’m scared to come home in case we have a row. I just need some time to think.’
‘I think you’re right.’
Dan looked at her and frowned. ‘Okay. I thought ...’
‘Come on, Dan. You didn’t really think I was going to dissolve into a weeping mess and beg you to stay?’ Ruth sneered.
‘No, I just ... I don’t know. It just feels sad, that’s all.’
Oh my God. Has he got a tear in his eye?
‘It is sad. It’s very sad. There’s a little girl asleep in there. And it would have been lovely for her if she could have grown up with two loving parents in the same house,’ Ruth said.
‘I didn’t say that it’s over. I just said I needed some time.’
Ruth shook her head at his self-deception. ‘Come on, Dan. You know, as well as I do, that once you’ve moved your stuff out, you’re never coming back.’
‘Don’t say that.’
‘Is there someone else?’ She knew there probably was, but she had to ask.
‘No, no. It’s nothing like that. I just don’t think it’s working between me and you,’ he said, squirming a little as he stood there.
‘I completely agree,’ Ruth said with no hint of emotion.
Dan gestured up the hall to their bedroom. ‘Right, okay. I’m going to pack up some of my things. I’m going to stay at Felix’s house for a bit.’
‘What about Ella?’
‘Yeah. I’ll ring or text and arrange a time to come and see her,’ he said.
Oh my God, you have no interest in seeing her, do you?
‘Tomorrow?’ Ruth asked, trying to put him on the spot and make him feel guilty.
‘Erm, I don’t know. Let me give you a ring. We’ll sort something out.’
You are a useless, selfish prick!
Dan looked at her, nodded, and then walked out of the living room.
Ruth sat back against the sofa and gazed up at the ceiling. Even though she knew this day was going to come, and she was relieved that it had, an overwhelming sense of sadness swept through her.
She took a deep breath, but she already had tears in her eyes.
Poor Ella. Poor, poor sweet Ella. I’m so sorry I’ve allowed this to happen to you.
IT WAS MID-EVENING and Lucy was still working in CID. After completing a mountain of paperwork, she retrieved the VHS tape that showed Petrovic at Waterloo station. She had been right all along. It gave her a feeling of satisfaction that her initial instincts had been correct.
Glancing down into the Peckham police station car park, she saw Brooks’ car - he was still in his office. She readied herself to confront him about what they had found on the tape. She didn’t care that he was her DCI. They had shared a bed, with all the intimacy that comes with an affair. He needed to listen to her, both as her boss and as her Man Boy. He owed her that much. Brooks was burying his head in the sand, so it was time to have it out with him.
Grabbing the VHS tape and a photograph from her desk, she marched down the corridor, heading for his office. As she arrived outside, she took a deep breath and knocked on the door. However, she didn’t bother to wait for a reply and just stormed in.
‘Evening, Lucy,’ Brooks said with a quizzical look. ‘What are you still doing at work?’
‘Don’t move,’ Lucy snapped as she closed the door, went over to the VHS player, and slotted the tape into the machine.
‘I’m not sure it’s appropriate for us to watch porn at work,’ he said dryly.
‘Shut up, Harry! This is serious.’
‘I thought we’d agreed I was guv at work,’ he said, half teasing.
‘Watch this,’ Lucy snarled at him as she pressed play. A moment later, the CCTV footage showed Petrovic walking to the ticket barrier and showing his ticket to the inspector.
Lucy pressed freeze as Petrovic turned to face the direction of the camera. ‘Recognise him?’
Brooks sat forward on his chair and squinted. Lucy could see that she now had his full attention. He had an increasingly serious expression on his face. ‘I’m guessing that’s your man?’
Lucy nodded and showed him the photograph they had of a slightly younger Petrovic. ‘That’s Simo Petrovic three we
eks ago at Waterloo station ... Ruth’s seen this, and she agrees ... Look at the photograph, Harry. It’s definitely him, isn’t it?’
Brooks put his hand to his face and rubbed his chin as he thought for a few seconds. ‘Who else has seen this?’
‘Only Ruth.’ She was glad to see that he was finally taking what she said seriously.
‘Right, I don’t want you to show this to anyone else, okay? I mean it. And not a word of what you’ve seen,’ Brooks said gravely. ‘Put that tape somewhere safe.’
I really fancy Harry when he’s like this, she thought. But his apprehension is worrying me.
‘What are you going to do?’ Lucy asked. She had rarely seen Brooks this uneasy.
‘I hate to admit it, but I was wrong. We can’t stand by and ignore this.’
‘Why didn’t you believe me when I first flagged this up?’ she said fiercely. Secretly she was excited that Brooks was taking her seriously, but she wanted to have a pop at him anyway. He should have bloody trusted her.
‘Because until now, you were working on a hunch without any decent evidence.’ He pointed to the image on the screen. ‘But this changes everything.’
‘What do we do now?’ Lucy asked.
‘Leave it with me, okay? As far as everyone else in CID, or anywhere else, is concerned, we are not looking at Petrovic, his involvement in Mujic’s murder, or if he is alive and living in London. At the moment, it might be sensible not to tell Ruth that you’ve spoken to me either.’
‘Why?’ Lucy didn’t like keeping secrets from Ruth. She hated the fact that she had kept her affair with Harry from her in recent months.
‘My job is to protect you and Ruth as much as I can. Someone, somewhere, with a lot of power, doesn’t want Petrovic found. The less Ruth knows, the less she can be implicated if anything goes wrong.’
Oh my God, Harry, you are soooo sexy ...
Lucy’s face softened into a smile. ‘Thank you, Harry. It means a lot ...’
‘I do take you seriously, Luce. You’re an excellent copper. A bit hot-headed but your instincts are bloody good,’ Brooks said.
Wow. Did he actually just say that?
‘Thank you, DCI Harry Brooks. I want to give you a big fucking snog.’
‘But we’re at work, so obviously you’re not going to do that,’ Brooks said, arching his eyebrow.
Lucy marched over to him. ‘Wrong. I don’t give a shit.’
She kissed him full on the lips, and put her hand to his face for a moment before turning and heading for the door.
‘See you tomorrow, guv!’
‘I DON’T UNDERSTAND why no one is investigating this properly?’ Shiori said as she sipped her wine and stubbed out her cigarette.
Ruth had sent Shiori a text once Dan had left. Half an hour later, she had arrived with Koyuki, a bottle of wine, and some supportive and encouraging words. Ella and Koyuki were now fast asleep in bed.
‘We’ve been told not to,’ Ruth said shaking her head.
Shiori frowned. ‘But that’s your job. They can’t ask you not to investigate a murder properly.’
‘That’s exactly what they’ve told us to do. It’s coming directly from the Home Office, via Scotland Yard. My guvnor is wetting himself. He thinks he’s going to lose his job if we carry on looking for this man,’ Ruth explained.
‘With my journalist hat on, my first instinct is why?’ Shiori asked.
Ruth tried to summarise what she suspected was going on. ‘It has to be the election. If the papers get hold of a story that shows a wanted Serbian war criminal, responsible for the torture and deaths of thousands of innocent civilians, is living in London, it will be a scandal. The buck stops with the Home Office and the current government. People will want to know how that’s been allowed to happen. And with days to go before a general election, that would be very damaging.’
Shiori sat forward and shook her head. ‘Jesus Christ, Ruth. They can’t be allowed to cover this up because it will cost them votes. It’s disgusting.’
Ruth shrugged. ‘What do we do? If Lucy and I carry on, we’ll probably get suspended. We can’t go to any senior ranking officers because they’re going to have the same problem.’
‘Then you need to go to someone outside the Metropolitan Police,’ Shiori said.
‘Like who? We don’t know anyone.’
‘I do. Claire Gold. She’s a human rights lawyer and she’s fantastic. We went to college in Chicago together. I think we should go and talk to her,’ Shiori said.
‘You want to help us with this?’ Ruth asked. She felt very apprehensive about going outside of the force to talk to anyone.
‘Of course. We have to do this. You’ve told me what was in that diary, Ruth. We can’t allow that man to escape justice due to political expediency. What they’re doing is criminal.’
‘I can’t lose my job. I’ve got Ella to look after and I’m on my own now,’ Ruth said. She had an overwhelming sense that the investigation was getting out of control.
‘You’re not going to lose your job. I promise you. Given what you’ve told me, I can’t see how they can touch you or Lucy.’
Ruth thought of Ella asleep in the next room, Dan’s rapid departure, and now the prospect of going outside of the Met. It was all too much for her. She was terrified. Taking a breath, she felt tears coming into her eyes.
‘I’m sorry. It’s just been a horrible evening,’ Ruth said with a sniff.
‘Hey, you don’t need to apologise,’ Shiori said, getting up and going over to her. ‘Come here.’
Ruth stood and Shiori gave her a hug. She could smell her hair and perfume. She smelled incredible. She wanted the hug to last for the rest of the night.
Ruth sniffed again as they moved apart. ‘God, I feel so stupid.’
Shiori put a reassuring hand on her arm. ‘Imagine what a perfect world this would be without fucking men.’
Ruth smiled and then laughed. ‘Yeah. Maybe one day, eh?’
Shiori looked at her watch. ‘Right, I’d better go. I will call Claire and I’ll come with you and Lucy when you talk to her. My advice up until then is to pretend that you are doing exactly what you’ve been told to do. Don’t ruffle any feathers.’
Ruth nodded and looked at her. ‘You can stay if you want ... I mean I can sleep on the sofa and you can have my bed.’
Oh God, did that sound weird as if I was propositioning her?
‘That’s very sweet of you, but I’d better get the little princess home. Maybe another time though.’
Ruth nodded, and put her hand on Shiori’s. For a moment, they held hands and looked at each other.
‘Thank you. I don’t know what I would have done without you tonight.’
‘No problem. You’re going to be fine.’ Shiori smiled. She went into Ella’s bedroom, carefully lifted Koyuki, and headed for the door. ‘If I’m lucky, she’ll stay asleep until we get home. We’ll talk tomorrow. Get some rest.’
CHAPTER 14
It was morning, and Ruth went back into CID after fetching a coffee from the canteen. She felt a little hesitant when she saw that Lucy had arrived. Even though they had found the image of Simo Petrovic, there had been a slight atmosphere between them after their cross words the previous day. She also had to broach the conversation she’d had with Shiori last night.
‘Any sign of Mujic on those tapes?’ Ruth asked.
Lucy shook her head but didn’t meet her eye. ‘No. Although if we can see that Petrovic is there, we have to assume Mujic was.’
‘Yeah’. Ruth sipped her coffee and waited a few seconds. ‘Sorry about yesterday.’
Lucy nodded. ‘Me too.’
Ruth cast a furtive glance around the CID office. There were two male DCs chatting over by the photocopier.
‘I think you’re right,’ Ruth said quietly under her breath.
‘What do you mean?’ Lucy asked, frowning.
‘I think that if we know that Simo Petrovic is alive, it’s our duty to find him and brin
g him to justice.’
‘Why the change of heart? I thought you were worried about your job?’
‘I am. But I have a friend. She’s a freelance journalist.’
Lucy rolled her eyes. ‘Please tell me that you didn’t tell her any of this?’
‘I kept it vague until I talked to you,’ Ruth answered, aware that she was lying.
‘What did she say that seems to have changed your mind so radically?’
‘She said that no one would, or could, sack two female police officers for pursuing a war criminal who they suspected was involved in two murders. It would be a PR disaster for the Met. And for anyone who might be implicated in covering up the man’s identity.’
‘And you trust her?’ Lucy asked.
‘Yes. There’s no hidden agenda with her.’
‘Can I meet her?’
‘Yes. Of course. She wants us to go and meet a human rights lawyer friend of hers.’
‘Okay. We can do that ... Right, better grab your coat then,’ Lucy said with a determined look.
‘Why? Where are we going now?’
‘I’ve told Brooks we’re going to Kensington police station.
‘Where are we really going then?’ Ruth asked, feeling uneasy.
‘Portobello Road.’
‘Why?’
‘It’s where the Serbian Cultural Centre is. If you’re a Serbian in London, that’s where you go.’
AS THEY QUEUED IN THE traffic going north over Battersea Bridge, Ruth clicked on the radio. Remember Me by Blue Boy was playing.
‘Oh, I love this!’ she said enthusiastically.
‘God, you really do love all this dance music crap,’ Lucy quipped.
‘All right, grandma. You can play your Fleetwood Mac CD later,’ Ruth joked. Even though they were virtually the same age, Ruth thought Lucy’s taste in music was really old-fashioned.
Lucy looked out over the Thames as they stopped again in the traffic at the south end of the bridge.
‘This was your manor, wasn’t it?’ Lucy asked.
‘Yeah. Lived and worked here. Before the wankers moved in and started calling it South Chelsea.’
Diary of a War Crime Page 9