‘I didn’t mean to kill him,’ she said to Saskia now. ‘I just didn’t want him to harm me and Roza. I didn’t know what else to do… the children… there’s something very wrong with the man.’
A strangled sob escaped from somewhere deep in the back of her throat as the realisation of what had just happened hit her.
She’d killed a man.
Colin was dead.
Vincent was dead too.
‘What the fuck… ’ Misty was looking around the room now – past Vincent and the man from the cemetery – to the table display of the strange life-sized dolls. ‘Children?’
Saskia followed her gaze. Then they both looked over to the chair, their eyes fixed on the elderly woman, dead in the armchair.
‘I’m going to go to prison. They’ll take Roza… After everything that’s happened, I’m still going to have my daughter taken from me.’ Lena was weeping now, defeated. The fight leaving her body. She was ready to finally give up.
‘No, Lena, you’re going to be okay. I won’t let that happen,’ Saskia said, determined that she would somehow make this right for Lena. ‘This wasn’t your fault. None of this was your fault.’
Saskia looked around now, scared. Lena was crying hysterically.
‘Lena? Where is Roza?’ There was no sign of the baby and, concerned that she’d yet to see the child, Saskia stepped forward to look for her.
‘Don’t!’ Lena turned to face Saskia. Tears rolling down her cheeks, her arm still out rigid, she aimed the gun at the two girls. ‘Don’t move.’
Startled, Saskia stopped dead. ‘Lena, please. You’re safe now. It’s us. We’re not going to hurt you. I promise.’
Lena shook her head.
‘What do your promises mean?’ Saskia had already broken her only promise. Why should Lena trust her now? She had to protect herself. Her child. ‘I waited for you, like you said. You didn’t come.’
‘I did, Lena. I was there. I was late, but I did come. That’s how we found you here at the flat. We followed you and the man from the cemetery. I kept my word. You can trust me; you’re safe now, Lena.’
Saskia saw the flicker of doubt in Lena’s eyes. Then the sound of Roza’s gentle cries filled the room, and they could see she was under the table.
The noise seemed to jolt Lena out of her trance and, seeing the girl soften, Saskia inched her way towards her.
‘You’re safe, Lena. I promise. I’m going to help you.’
Lena lowered the gun then. Saskia nodded to Misty to go to Roza.
‘I can’t do this any more. I can’t… ’ Lena was inconsolable now. Shock, relief, a thousand emotions flooding her at once. Overwrought from it all she finally broke down.
Reaching out to the girl Saskia wrapped her arms around her.
‘It’s over, Lena. You’re safe now.’
50
‘This place is like something from the house of fucking horrors.’
Staring down at Colin Jeffries’s body, Joshua Harper felt nothing but contempt as he finally broke his silence.
The gory scene before him sickened him to his stomach. It was grotesque. Monstrous.
He couldn’t take it all in. None of them could.
Death, blood – the children.
What the fuck had been going on here?
Even Jonjo and Tyrell, two of the hardest fuckers Joshua knew, had been rendered speechless at the harrowing scene they’d been met with.
They’d seen it all over the years, but walking in here tonight had completely floored them all.
Joshua just couldn’t register the fact that his brother was dead. He felt numb. He was in shock. He must be.
The gruesome image of his brother sprawled out on the floor with his throat cut open would be etched on his mind for ever. The sight had shaken him to his core and, unable to think straight, his men were having to lead him.
‘Boss, the boys have taken Vincent’s body out to the van. We’re going to need to get out of here now so the other boys can come in and get on with the clean-up op. They’re going to make sure that we remove any trace of Vincent being here. We can’t risk him being associated with any of this… ’ Tyrell Jones chose his words carefully. ‘This.’
He was referring to the children; his voice raw with emotion as he stared over to where the ‘dolls’ sat eerily around the table, the sight of them making his skin crawl. He thought of his own kids at home, tucked up safely in their beds.
‘Fuck man! Their parents don’t even know that they have been taken from their graves, snatched by this monster, I just can’t even imagine—?’
Joshua shook his head, quietly. Everything about the scene before them was incomprehensible.
‘The Old Bill are going to be all over this, boss. We can’t just make it all disappear. The kids need to be put back where they came from… ’
Joshua nodded.
Of course the Old Bill would be all over this; the press would be too. This was big.
A headfucker of heinous quantities.
Of course, they couldn’t make any of this just disappear.
The authorities would make sure that these kids were put back from where they had been taken. Laid to rest in peace – again. This monster needed to be outed for his disgusting crimes.
The only thing Joshua and his men could do was make sure that Vincent wasn’t associated with anything to do with any of this mess.
‘We’ll get one of our boys in blue down here first. At least if the first copper on the scene is one on our payroll we can keep a better eye on what happens. What about the neighbours? Did anyone see or hear anything?’
Tyrell shook his head. ‘See no evil. Hear no evil. Literally. Next door is empty; the one down from that is some old bird on her own. She said she didn’t hear a thing. The woman’s deaf as a fucking post.’ Raising his brow, Tyrell grinned. ‘Turns out you can get a lot for a grand around these parts. The old biddy was that keen to earn a bit of dough I thought she was going to apply for a fucking job at the club.’
Tyrell was trying to lighten his boss’s sombre mood, but he could see Joshua wasn’t listening to his jokes. He wasn’t in the mood for anything. He looked disgusted, staring down at the dead man with a look of pure hatred on his face.
‘Fucking piece of shit!’ he finally said, turning his lip up in distaste as he looked down at Colin on the floor, blood seeping out all around him.
Tyrell couldn’t agree more.
‘The fucking nutter can burn in hell as far as I’m concerned. If it wasn’t for these kids, I’d happily get the fire started an’ all. Burn this fucking place down to the ground with this sick fucker still inside.’
Joshua nodded. Burning in hell was too good for this bastard. If Joshua’d had his way, the man would have died a slow torturous death. Still, that had been out of Joshua’s hands.
He thought of the girls then.
‘Where’s Misty now?’ Joshua asked, trying to focus. He needed to snap out of this mood, gain back some control. Vincent was dead. There was nothing he could do to bring him back.
Right now his priorities were to sort this mess out. His heart could wait until later.
‘Jonjo’s taken her out to the car. She’s pretty fucked up boss. Then again, what girl wouldn’t be after seeing this huh? She knows her stuff though. She knew not to call the Old Bill. The only person she rang was me.’
Joshua nodded, hearing the affection in Tyrell’s voice. He was right. Misty had come up trumps for him. She could have freaked out and called the police, but the girl had kept her head. She knew how much loyalty meant to Joshua.
That was something at least.
‘What about the Albanian girl? You want me to go out and look for her?’ Tyrell asked now, as Joshua started to walk towards the front door.
Joshua shook his head.
‘What’s the point?’ He shrugged, his shock subsiding. Sadness swept through him as the realisation hit that his brother Vincent was really dead. ‘She isn’t going to cause any shit for me no
w, is she? She’s murdered a man. She’ll be long gone now, and if the girl’s got any sense she won’t so much as even look back.’
Misty had told Tyrell how Colin had attacked Vincent, killing him. Slitting his throat. Then Lena had picked up the gun. She’d shot him. Dead.
It wasn’t the slow agonising death that Joshua would have wished on the murderer of his brother, but it was the ultimate price.
Lena had killed him. For his brother. For herself.
As far as he was concerned Lena had earned her freedom.
Seeing the bewildered look on his boss’s face, Tyrell tried to hold it together for him. He’d never seen the man look so defeated.
‘Come on, boss, let’s get you out of here. Yeah?’
Joshua nodded.
Tonight, he was grateful that for once someone else was taking control.
51
Walking up the rickety dirt track, Korab pulled his scarf up to cover his mouth, tugging his hat down as the strong winds whipped around him. He was glad of the cold weather though. It gave him a reason to hide under layers of clothes. His perfect disguise.
Vincent Harper might be as far away as England, but the man had eyes and ears everywhere. He didn’t miss a trick. The other brokers working at the camp would give Korab up in a second if it meant that it earned them brownie points with men like Vincent. He couldn’t believe he was back here now, after six days of being away. It felt like a lifetime, as if he was seeing the place for the very first time. The Jungle on the border of Calais. It was nothing more than a desolate piece of wasteland: a makeshift shanty town.
Getting back here had been the easy part. Much easier than he’d anticipated. The lorry driver that he’d flagged down had practically laughed in his face at Korab’s strange request to take him back over to France. He’d said that he’d had plenty of people try their luck to be taken over to England, but Korab had been one of a few that had begged to be smuggled back. The five hundred pounds Korab had offered him for the journey had sealed the arrangement. The man had gladly taken his money. Delighted at not only getting paid to go to a place he was already going, but also to put one of the fuckers back where they came from.
Korab felt guilty: he had taken the money from out of his cousin Kush’s till and he’d also left Kush alone with Ramiz.
He’d been cowardly, he knew that. Sneaking out in the middle of the night without saying a word to anyone… but he couldn’t. Ramiz wouldn’t have just let him waltz out of there. The man was unhinged, out of control. He’d never have allowed Korab to just walk away from him. That’s why Korab had taken his opportunity to escape. The first chance that he’d got.
He just prayed that one day Kush would forgive him for burdening him.
Reaching the top of the winding dirt track, Korab was finally back at his tent. What was left of it.
It had been ransacked, just as he’d expected. The news of him going to England, of the boat capsizing, would have spread around the camp like wildfire. The other residents of the camp had homed in like vultures, taking everything. All that was left were a few wooden sticks that had marked out the tent’s structure and some broken pallets that had once lined his camp’s makeshift walls.
Everything else was gone. His bed, the mattress, the sheet of tarpaulin. There were just a few items of clothes left and some broken ornaments. Tracing the steps, he tried to map out where his camp bed had once been. He could still see the markings in the ground, the indents from where its legs had dug into the mud. The familiar mound. A tiny glimpse of a strap.
Bending down, he started scraping his hands through the soil, moist from being exposed to the elements. Raking at the ground, the dirt gathered under his finger nails. He stopped when he felt it.
The soft canvas bag. That’s what he’d come back for. It was still here. Still buried in the ground: the perfect hiding place.
Closing his eyes, Korab’s body relaxed, filled with sudden joy, relief.
The bastards hadn’t found it. He was elated. Overjoyed that his journey had not been wasted. They hadn’t found his stash of money. Digging faster now, with new-found optimism, Korab listened out for noises around him. If people here found out that he had money, a lot of money, he’d become a target. He’d seen men fight to the death here over much less. Scraps of bread, the last cup of fresh water. Eleven thousand pounds would be enough to get lynched.
This money was his lifeline. His one and only saving grace. He’d been skimming money off the top of his collections since he’d started.
Vincent Harper and his men paid him a good wage, but nowhere near enough for a new life in England. So he’d been taking a few pounds here and there; stashing it away religiously, while living under the guise of a man in dire destitution. Eating the same rations as everyone else here. Dressing in the same rags.
Korab had it all planned out. As soon as he had enough money saved up he was going to send for his family. They would all make it across to England. Though that plan was ruined now. Korab would have to take his money and leave tonight. His dream of England was over now. The place had promised to be so full of prospects and opportunities, only it hadn’t been any of those for him. And with Ramiz in London, Korab didn’t want to go back. He’d already made his mind up. He was going to make his way over to Greece. Try his luck in Kos, where he’d heard migrants had been flooding in their droves. He was going to use the money he had to start up his own business.
He was done with being a camp rat and lining the pockets of others. He was going to cash in for himself, be his own boss, answering only to himself. The money he had saved up gave him options.
Pulling the bag out now from the soil, Korab sat back on the muddy bank.
It was starting to rain. Icy cold droplets pelting down around him, but even they couldn’t dampen his spirit.
He felt refreshed, happy. Away from men like Ramiz and Vincent he would make his own fortune.
Unzipping the bag, he thought of all the things that he would do once he was settled. He’d send for his family. His children.
They could be together once more. Finally, living in squalor, this poverty, would all be worth it.
But reaching his hand inside the bag Korab’s hands felt only the bare material.
Throwing himself down on the ground, he searched back inside the hole, scraping his fingers through the mud once more. Digging frantically at the earth. It had to be here. Why would someone from the camp take the money and leave the bag? It didn’t make any sense. It must have fallen out?
Desperate, frantic, he searched until his hands were raw. But his efforts were futile.
Behind him, he could hear sheets of tarpaulin from the tents all around him flapping angrily as the wind picked up. The rain was lashing down now, his clothes soaked, stuck to his skin. Raindrops dripped down his face, mixing with his tears.
Korab’s money was gone and so was his only hope of getting away from the camp.
52
Slipping into the front seat of his Beamer, Joshua Harper nodded at Jonjo to give him a minute.
Turning to Misty, Jonjo offered a small smile. He had no idea how this was going to play out for the girl, but he hoped that his boss went easy on her. She’d had a shock tonight. Witnessed things that even Jonjo had found hard to stomach.
Joshua was unpredictable though and, as much as Jonjo had seen a lot of shit go down over the years, the death of his boss’s brother wasn’t something he had ever anticipated having to deal with.
Joshua’s eyes looked empty, as if the light behind them had been extinguished.
Doing as he was told, Jonjo got out of the car.
‘I’m so sorry about your brother, Joshua. Really I am.’ Misty spoke quietly now. She hadn’t liked Vincent, not really. But seeing him tonight laid out on the floor, all that blood, she couldn’t imagine how Joshua must be feeling right now.
His face said more than his words. He looked tired, old. Like suddenly tonight he’d aged ten years. Filling the awkward sile
nce in the car, Misty continued speaking.
‘That man was crazy. Would have killed me and Lena too, if Lena hadn’t shot him. He had all those things in there, dolls, children? What sort of a sick fucker does that?’ In shock, Misty was mumbling now. She didn’t know what else to do.
So far Joshua had barely said a word and it was making Misty feel nervous.
Finally, he spoke. ‘What the fuck was he doing here?’ Joshua asked. ‘Here on the Greenwood Estate in some shitty little council flat?’
Remembering what Vincent had said earlier, about him pretending to make the phone call to Joshua, Misty realised that Joshua didn’t know he’d followed her and Saskia. He didn’t know anything.
Vincent had died tonight, and now it would only be Misty’s version of events that Joshua would have to go by.
She better make this good.
‘Vincent said he’d had a tip-off that Lena was here. He asked me to come with him. I think he thought we could do a good cop, bad cop routine, you know? He said it would be better if I came as I could coax the girl to come with us, without causing any more dramas. Only, we had no idea what we were walking in on… ’
Joshua rubbed his throbbing head as Misty continued.
‘That man in there, those dolls? He was crazy. Vincent fought a good fight, but the man took him by surprise. He would have killed me too, if Lena hadn’t shot him… ’ Joshua closed his eyes now.
This was all his fault.
He should not have told Vincent to pursue the fucking girl in the first place. They should have just let her be. She was more fucking trouble than she was worth.
He’d pressurised Vincent to look for her, and now this.
His brother was dead. The girl was nowhere to be seen, and he had a whole load of shit on his hands.
‘Do you know where this Lena went?’
Misty shook her head.
‘I have no idea. She just took off. After killing that bloke I don’t think we’ll be seeing her again any time soon, and she certainly won’t be talking to anyone that’s for sure. Not now she’s shot someone.’
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