Tell No Lies

by Tell No Lies (retail) (epub)

  Caelan nodded. ‘Leaving his turf free for someone new to move in.’

  ‘Jackson wouldn’t have been the only dealer in the area. You know how it is, they’re like flies. You swat one, turn around, and three more have flown in to spread shit around.’

  ‘Good analogy.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘What about Frankie Hamilton?’

  ‘Frankie?’ Hobbs laughed. ‘Haven’t heard his name for a while. I went to school with him. At least, I went to school. Frankie didn’t usually bother.’

  ‘He’s being released in a few days.’

  A pause, then, ‘Right.’

  ‘His girlfriend…’

  Hobbs was already nodding. ‘Frankie’s not going to be happy.’

  ‘You know?’

  ‘Look, my family don’t speak to me. Doesn’t mean I have no friends left over there.’

  ‘Can’t be easy.’

  ‘It’s not.’ Hobbs gazed at the floor, then raised her chin. ‘But I made the right choice. If I hadn’t joined the police, what would I be doing? Time, most likely.’

  ‘Really?’

  Hobbs lifted her shoulders, grimaced, and let them fall. ‘I’d like to think not. But two of my cousins are, my brother is. Drugs, theft, fifteen kids? Who knows?’

  ‘What did you think of the officers from the NCA?’

  ‘Reid and Webster?’ Another snort. ‘More like Dumb and Dumber.’ She looked at Caelan from beneath thick eyelashes.

  ‘You weren’t impressed.’

  Hobbs waved a hand, dismissing the subject. ‘All right, listen. Honestly, I think we’re wasting our time with Frankie Hamilton. He’s a user, not a dealer. If we’re thinking about people who could have killed Ben Rainey and Anthony Bryce, Hamilton wouldn’t even be in the top one hundred. He’s in jail, plus he’s a lowlife, a follower. No one respects him, no one would do anything on his say-so. He has no authority.’

  ‘And whoever murdered our victims has?’

  ‘Must have. Even if they killed Ben Rainey and Bryce themselves, they’d have needed help. If they ordered others to do it, well, then they have people working for them. People who’ll do whatever they’re told to. Rainey was a police officer, for Christ’s sake. Whoever murdered him means business.’

  ‘We’re looking for someone surrounded by people who are loyal.’

  ‘Or they’re being paid part of their wages in weed, or coke. That can be persuasive. Or maybe they’re scared – either they or their family could be being threatened. We’re not talking about stealing a few items from a pound shop here. This is serious. People get hurt.’

  ‘I realise that.’

  ‘People get killed.’

  The words hung between them for a second. Caelan allowed the silence to develop, then said, ‘Can you give me some names?’

  ‘Not any more. Twenty years ago, maybe. But I would have kept my mouth closed, nevertheless.’

  ‘DCI Achebe said you knew Ben Rainey?’

  Hobbs blew out her cheeks. ‘I spoke to him in passing. Doesn’t matter if we weren’t best friends; he was one of us, and no one should die like he did.’ She met Caelan’s eyes. ‘I see you agree.’

  ‘All right. Tell me about your accident.’

  Hobbs looked thrown. ‘My accident? How’s that relevant?’

  ‘I’m curious.’

  ‘Well, okay… I was driving home, it was late, I was tired. I stopped at a junction, the car behind shunted me.’

  ‘Did it stop?’

  ‘No. I smacked my chest on the wheel, hurt my neck, banged my head somehow. Must have lost consciousness for a second. Whoever hit me had driven off.’

  Caelan was quiet, considering what Hobbs had said. ‘You didn’t see the car?’

  ‘No. It was dark, I could only see headlights. Then… they’d vanished.’

  ‘Is your car damaged?’

  ‘Oh yeah. I managed to drive it home, and the garage collected it this morning. It needs some work.’

  ‘Then it’s safe to assume that the car that hit you is damaged too?’

  Hobbs stared at her. ‘Possibly. Why?’

  ‘Are we trying to trace the vehicle?’

  ‘I don’t know. I gave a statement. It happened by the shops on Northolt Road – there must be cameras.’

  ‘I’ll check with DCI Achebe.’

  ‘What are you saying?’

  Caelan hesitated, wondering if she should voice her suspicions. ‘This crash of yours – what if it wasn’t an accident?’

  Hobbs opened her mouth, her eyebrows drawn together. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Think about it. Why wouldn’t the driver stop? If you were in your own car, he or she wouldn’t have known you were police.’

  Shifting in her seat, Hobbs spread her hands.

  ‘You know there could be any number of reasons. Maybe they had no insurance, no tax. Maybe they were pissed, or high. Or both.’

  ‘Possibly. Probably, even. But I think it’s worth following up.’

  ‘Seriously?’ Hobbs looked sceptical. ‘Why would you even consider it could have been deliberate?’

  ‘You’re working on a drugs operation on your old patch; two men are found dead, one of whom was a police officer. Both have been tortured. Both men you knew, or at least had met.’

  ‘No one knows about my involvement. How could they? I’ve stayed away from Edmonton.’

  ‘You know as well as I do that information gets leaked. People sometimes hear about things they shouldn’t.’

  ‘Listen, I don’t know what happens where you’re from, but I trust my guys, and they trust me.’

  ‘Yeah, well I thought I could rely on my colleagues too. Turns out I was wrong. Sometimes, they turn on you.’

  Hobbs tipped her head to the side, gazing steadily at Caelan. ‘You know, you’re beginning to sound a little paranoid. I can see you’ve had a bang on the head, but…’

  Caelan took a breath, forced herself to calm down. ‘Okay, I’ll shut up, but I’d like to mention it to DCI Achebe. At least give him the chance to hear me out.’

  Hobbs exhaled sharply. ‘Fine. Adam won’t like it, though. He already wants me walking around wrapped in cotton wool.’

  Caelan wondered why, but didn’t want to ask. ‘Don’t tell him. It’s probably nothing.’

  The glance Hobbs shot her was shrewd. ‘You don’t believe that.’

  ‘But I’m willing to be convinced.’

  ‘Strangely, I don’t find that reassuring.’

  Caelan stood. ‘Thanks for seeing me. I’ll leave you to rest.’

  Hobbs nodded towards the sofa. ‘Could you pass my mobile, please? Can I take your number?’

  Handing over the phone, Caelan dictated it. ‘I’ll stay in touch.’

  ‘Thanks for coming, even if you’ve given me something else to worry about. Do you mind if I don’t come to the door with you?’

  ‘It’s fine.’

  As Caelan stepped onto the driveway, she saw Adam Waits, Hobbs’s husband, jogging slowly past on the other side of the road. Seeing Caelan, he raised a hand then sprinted away. He’d waited, looking out for his wife. Who could blame him?

  Caelan unlocked her car, thumbing out a text to tell Achebe she was on her way back to the station before starting the engine. Hobbs was clearly fit, and could no doubt look after herself. If needed, her husband could also be an intimidating presence.

  All the same, Caelan felt a dig of unease as she drove away.

  She hoped she was wrong about the car crash.

  7

  When Caelan arrived in the incident room at South Harrow police station, Achebe was standing beside a uniformed constable who was pointing at something on his computer screen. Caelan stepped closer, but didn’t interrupt. Achebe acknowledged her with a nod, held up a hand. Five minutes.

  Caelan asked the nearest person where she could get some coffee, followed their instructions to a dingy kitchen with an ancient kettle and an assortment of dirty crockery. A w
oman wearing charcoal trousers and a white shirt stood by the window, arms folded. She turned as she heard Caelan flick on the kettle.

  ‘I wouldn’t bother,’ she said, with a smile.

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘It’s broken.’

  ‘Oh.’ Caelan looked down. Sure enough, the kettle was silent, the red light near the handle refusing to light up. ‘They didn’t tell me that.’

  ‘Mug of water’s as good as it gets, I’m afraid.’ She indicated a cupboard with a jerk of her chin. ‘In there. I wouldn’t like to say how clean the cups are. Hope you’ve had your injections.’

  Caelan laughed. ‘Maybe I’ll pass.’

  ‘A wise decision.’ She grinned. ‘DS Somerville. Call me Jen. You’ve been in the wars.’

  ‘It looks worse than it is.’ Nevertheless, Caelan’s hand strayed again to the bandage on her temple. Maybe she should take it off. It was too noticeable, as were her casual clothes and gaudy trainers. Liv Hobbs hadn’t commented, but Caelan had seen her eyes widen as she’d taken in her outfit. Maybe it hadn’t been wise to go rushing over there dressed as she was. Even after their brief meeting, Caelan knew Hobbs was sharp enough to join the dots. Caelan wasn’t in uniform, but she wasn’t dressed in the smart office clothes of the average detective either. So who was she? It wouldn’t take much thought to make the connection to covert policing. Caelan’s official rank was detective sergeant, but it had been a while since she’d introduced herself as such. She decided to now.

  Achebe pushed open the door as she and Somerville were shaking hands. ‘Caelan. I’ve only just seen your text.’ He nodded towards Somerville. ‘Jen’s part of Liv’s team; she’ll be covering for her until she gets back.’

  ‘Which knowing Liv will be within the next five minutes,’ Somerville added.

  Caelan outlined her conversation with Hobbs. Achebe listened, hands on hips. He raised a finger.

  ‘Wait a second. You think Liv’s car was hit deliberately?’

  Did she? Or was she jumping to conclusions, seeing things that weren’t there? She made the decision.

  ‘I think it’s a possibility we should be considering,’ she said.

  Somerville’s cheeks were red. ‘What the hell? Why would someone do that?’

  Achebe gave Caelan a long look, frowning.

  ‘We need to locate the vehicle involved,’ he said. ‘Jen, can we get someone onto it, please?’

  She nodded. ‘With pleasure. I’ll do it myself.’

  She strode from the room, lips pressed into a line. Achebe waited for the door to close.

  ‘They’re a tight-knit bunch.’

  ‘Understood.’ Caelan pushed her hands into her jeans pockets. ‘I could be overreacting, of course.’ It wouldn’t be the first time. The job could make you paranoid.

  ‘We need to be sure. Why would anyone do that to Liv, though?’

  ‘To warn her, or scare her? To send a message to her brother?’

  ‘Jackson? She hasn’t spoken to him for years.’

  ‘I could be wrong.’

  He met her eyes again. ‘You weren’t yesterday.’

  She scowled at him. ‘Nasenby? Like I said earlier, forget about it. I’m going to.’

  ‘All right.’ Achebe didn’t look convinced, but he’d clearly decided it wasn’t worth arguing the point. ‘How did it go with Ben Rainey’s family?’

  ‘It was… difficult.’ She told him what Mrs Rainey and Joseph had said about Ben wanting to be a detective.

  ‘You think it’s important?’ Achebe asked.

  Caelan shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Did any of his colleagues mention it?’

  ‘Don’t think so, but I’ll check. He might have seen himself as too much of a new boy to start talking about his future in the force.’

  ‘Maybe.’ Caelan pinched her lower lip, thinking about it.

  ‘We can speak to his sergeant again, his colleagues. It shouldn’t take long.’

  ‘What do you want me to do?’

  ‘Do?’

  She grinned. ‘You said I could join the investigation team. You’re the boss, aren’t you?’

  Achebe laughed. ‘Dressed like that? How about going to Edmonton after all? Have a look at the information we’ve got so far. There’s not much yet on Bryce. We only knew who he was because he had a bank card in his wallet. We were able to confirm his identity using his fingerprints, because he’s in the system.’

  ‘The wallet was left on his body?’

  ‘Yeah. No cash inside, but then he probably didn’t have much. No point trying to make it look like a mugging gone wrong when you’ve moved him into a house.’

  Caelan nodded. ‘And smashed his fingers and burnt him beforehand.’

  ‘That too.’

  ‘He definitely wasn’t killed in the house?’

  ‘We don’t believe so.’ Achebe didn’t elaborate. It was early days, and the results of the forensic investigations would take time. Making assumptions or guesses would only complicate, or even jeopardise, their progress.

  ‘Who owns the property?’

  ‘A local businessman. He has a couple of restaurants, plus some residential properties. We’ve contacted him by phone – he and his wife are visiting family in Turkey.’

  ‘Convenient.’

  ‘They’re flying back in a couple of days. He says he’s never heard of Anthony Bryce. Said he was happy to cooperate with us, and was furious that his house had been used to dump a body. His words, not mine.’

  ‘Worried about his reputation? The effect on his businesses?’

  ‘I’m guessing so. The house has been empty for a few weeks. A new tenant was due to move in next month. This might change their mind.’

  ‘What about his family?’

  ‘He has two sons, one in his early twenties, the other younger. One daughter, late teens. None of them has had so much as a speeding fine. Neither have the parents.’ Achebe lifted his eyebrows.

  ‘The younger son’s age?’

  ‘Fifteen.’

  ‘Old enough, then.’

  Achebe rolled his neck, then his shoulders. ‘Easily. Don’t worry, we’re not going to forget about him.’

  ‘What about the elder son? What does he do?’

  ‘He’s a plumber.’

  ‘So, he could have access to a van?’

  ‘Maybe plastic sheeting too, plus some strong mates. We’re checking.’

  ‘Any intel?’

  ‘Nothing. Either they’re all as squeaky clean as they appear to be, or…’ Achebe left the sentence unfinished.

  ‘Seems unlikely any member of the family would leave the body in a property they own, though.’

  ‘Agreed, but you never know.’

  Caelan nodded. It was true. Under stress, rational thinking could disappear, and few situations were as stressful as having a dead body to dispose of. ‘Who found Bryce?’

  ‘A window cleaner knocking on doors, looking for business. There are still curtains up at the windows; he hadn’t realised no one was living there. He approached the front door, saw a few drops of blood on the step. He looked through the nearest window, saw Bryce sprawled on the carpet.’

  ‘He was in the living room?’

  ‘Looks like they’d literally thrown him in there. On his back, arms and legs spread wide. Like a rag doll.’ Achebe blinked as though trying to rid himself of the image.

  Caelan considered his words. ‘They were in a hurry, then? Panicking? Or they just didn’t give a shit?’

  ‘Probably both. Anyone who can torture someone isn’t going to be too worried about treating their body with respect afterwards.’

  ‘Fair point. If there was blood on the step, whoever left him there would have had some on their clothing, in their vehicle.’

  ‘You’d think. It’s an end terrace, one set of neighbours who predictably saw and heard nothing. We’re still knocking on doors, but I’m guessing it’ll be the same story all down the street. There’s a patch of waste ground next to the house,
and a side gate into the property. They could have backed a vehicle right up to the gate, opened the doors and carried him in.’

  ‘No witnesses.’

  ‘Or none that will talk.’ Achebe ran a hand around his jaw. ‘Hopefully Scenes of Crime will pick up some tyre tracks.’

  ‘Fingers crossed. There had to be more than one person to lift him, though.’

  ‘At least. Bryce was scrawny, but also tall. There may be trace evidence on his body, we don’t know yet. There were plenty of wounds for fibres or other stuff to stick to.’

  A silence. Caelan hadn’t seen Bryce’s body yet, or the photographs and video footage that would have been taken at the scene, but she could imagine the devastation the torture would have wreaked on his body. Achebe cleared his throat.

  ‘Scenes of Crime should be finished at the address soon, but we’ll leave someone there. Might have people trying to get in to take photographs or whatever. There’ll be lots of gossip, theories flying around. You know how it is.’

  She flashed him a grin. ‘All right.’

  ‘I’ll make a few calls, clear it with Beckett and our NCA colleagues.’ Achebe took out his phone.

  Caelan wandered back into the incident room, looking for Jen Somerville. She couldn’t explain why the idea that Liv Hobbs had been deliberately targeted had come into her head, but the more she thought about it, the more convinced she was that she was correct.

  ‘Caelan?’ Somerville was waving to her from a desk in the corner. Caelan went over, exchanging nods and smiles with a few of the people who were busy at keyboards or on calls. Ben Rainey had been one of their own. They would keep searching for his murderers until they found them. The news of Anthony Bryce’s death would have made them all the more determined, Caelan knew. The torture disturbed and worried her. It was abhorrent and frightening. Were they attempting to extract information from their victims, or were the grisly deaths a warning? Why had Rainey been in Edmonton? What was his involvement?

  As she reached Somerville’s side, she blinked the questions away. She would have time to consider them again later. Now, she needed information.

  ‘We’re going to have to go to the shops nearby, ask if they have CCTV footage,’ said Somerville. ‘Are you—’

  ‘I can’t,’ Caelan said quickly.

  Somerville raised her eyebrows, surprised. ‘I wasn’t going to ask you to go. I’m sending a couple of my DCs. I was going to say, are you sure about the location of the crash?’