Billy gave a slow, purposeful nod.
Joe explained for him. ‘A couple of years ago Billy’s brother, Jamie, took over the care of Billy after their mum got banged up for a pretty nasty GBH. She used a guy’s face as a weapon against a glass bottle in a bar fight. It took the hospital eight hours to put him back together that night and he’s had five more ops since then.’
‘Ouch.’
Joe looked at him then. ‘Billy, do you want to explain what happened?’
He moved the Coke can up to his mouth, took a deep breath and drank. Wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. He knew these people. He’d been here before, but this story had only been given to Joe in private. Now he had to say it out loud to a room full of feds. He ground his teeth. Spun the cool Coke can between his hands. The room stayed silent.
Waited for him.
‘Yeah. Anyway,’ he started, ‘Jamie, he were only three years older than me but you’d have thought he were ten years older, the way he looked after me. Though I told him he was bossy. Gave him a hard time. He took it. Worked in the local twenty-four-hour supermarket, pulled in double shifts where he could, to pay the rent. It meant I spent a lot of time on my own but he always made me answer to him. Wanted to know who I hung about with, what I did at school, shouted at me if I di’nt do me homework.’
He finished the Coke.
‘Want another one of those, Billy?’ Tamsin offered. He shook his head, but kept the can in his hands.
‘He wanted me to do well. Said he didn’t want me to end up in a place like him. So, to get him off me back I told him about the drama stuff I were doing at school. I weren’t no good at studies but I were good at drama. Really good, like.’
He put the can to his mouth. Tipped it right up. The smallest dribble slipped onto his tongue. It was still empty. Tamsin got up and quietly left the room.
‘Jamie was thrilled. He told me he was scared that if I didn’t follow my dream I’d end up either in a dead-end job like his, a gang, in prison, or dead. So he found a theatre school, but it were expensive, like. It were ridiculous to think someone like me could go to somewhere like there.’ He was angry now. His voice rising. Tamsin handed him another can from the vending machine. He put the empty on the desk with a quiet clang, then flicked at the pull on the new can but didn’t open it, his mind now elsewhere. ‘One day Jamie told me he could get the money and then another day he had it, but he was also sick. I pleaded with him to tell me what he’d done. He made me promise to use the money to go to theatre school. No matter what happened.’
Billy dropped his head. ‘I promised him.’ A whisper. ‘He told me he’d trawled the dark web and sold his kidney. He died two days later.’
7
‘Jesus Christ.’ Ray looked at the skinny black kid with the shaved head and three circular gold rings through a pierced eyebrow, who now refused to make eye contact.
‘He made it his mission to bring the group down.’ Joe spoke again. Giving Billy time to gather himself. ‘He located them, earned their trust. He has worked his way up the group until he’s at a place where he knows enough information to be able to come to us.’ Joe clapped his hands together. ‘And that’s where we are.’
Ray softened his voice. ‘It must have difficult for you this past couple of years, Billy.’
A quiet ‘yes’. If he was this nervous in here, Ray didn’t understand how he’d managed to infiltrate such a dark and vicious gang. Maybe it was his apparent vulnerability that had made them trust him.
‘And, while we don’t advocate doing what you’ve done, we do appreciate the information you are now able to provide. I don’t think we have ever been able to get close to a group like this before. What you’re doing in talking to us is incredibly helpful and incredibly brave.’ This time he caught the boy’s eye. ‘Thank you.’
Billy looked uncomfortable.
‘Billy is going to meet the man behind it all and ID him for us.’
Ray paced a couple of steps. ‘You want to send Billy in? To meet the head guy?’ He looked so vulnerable. He wasn’t sure how this had happened.
‘How else could we run this? And ID someone?’ asked Joe.
‘What about the website on the dark net? Surely we have eCrime working on it?’
Joe sighed. ‘I spoke to them, yes. They’ve agreed to have a look, but they said the ability to identify anyone behind the site is slim to zero. That’s why people go and set up on there. Our best bet is Billy; if it doesn’t work then we’ll have to place our eggs in the electronic trail basket.’
Ray wracked his brains. He’d only been brought in on this job this morning. Everyone else had had time to consider the options. He was playing catch-up. He hated being back-footed. His hand went up to his head and rubbed through his hair. ‘I take it we’ve been in contact with the coroner, attempted to identify other potential victims.’
‘We did and we are. Nothing has come up. But we are keeping an eye on that strand of the investigation. Any sudden death that comes in looking like it might be related to organ donation and it will come straight to us. And with the help of NHS England, hospitals have been made aware of the issue and will get in touch if a patient comes in ill having donated an organ.’
It was a shame there were no leads from this line of inquiry yet. There may well have been other deaths in the country. Having the hospitals on alert now helped though.
Ray paced back. ‘These are dangerous people. They already killed his brother and you want to send him in alone? How old are you, Billy?’
Billy looked at Joe, then at Ray, lifted his chin. ‘Eighteen now. Old enough to make my own decisions.’
‘Jesus.’
Joe jumped in: ‘Look, he’s been in alone for the last two years without us knowing about it, what’s one more day? And they didn’t hands-on kill his brother …’ He looked to Billy and clarified. ‘Yes, they did kill him, Billy, but what I’m saying to DI Patrick is, in terms of their level of danger, they didn’t physically assault with the intent to hurt.’ He pulled a face at the difficulty of trying to explain what he meant when every sentence that might explain his meaning could easily be twisted to fit what had actually happened. Ray looked at him with a raised eyebrow.
‘Okay, but you know what I’m saying.’
‘And how exactly are we to pull this feat off?’ asked Ray.
‘We’re going to arrest their web guy and Billy has the tech knowhow to be perfectly placed to step into his shoes,’ replied Joe.
‘Just like that? Any particular reason for the arrest or are we to make it up as we go along?’
Joe gave him a look. The office was quiet. Ray knew he needed to shut up and listen. The op had run for long enough while he’d been away. He couldn’t come back and trample all over it. He at least needed to hear them out.
‘He has a sideline in selling drugs on the dark net, but he also likes to smoke his product. We pull him over in a random stop, smell the weed in the car because he can’t resist smoking in his car, which provides us grounds to search it, and I’m reliably informed there will be a stash in there that will make your local street dealer proud.’
‘And this has been signed off?’ Ray ran his hands through his hair.
‘All of it, yes. Billy is registered as a CHIS and has a handler,’ replied Joe, ‘and though we don’t normally attend the meet-up between CHIS and target, everyone feels that these are unusual circumstances. If we don’t go to the meet then there would be no way for us to know who the guy was. He walks away after it and could disappear. So we go as well, and that keeps Billy safe. We’ll need him to give us a signal that the top man is there, and we swoop in.’ Joe made it sound so simple.
Billy watched the exchange, more concerned the longer the two detectives talked. Ray looked at him.
‘You’re okay with this, Billy?’
He looked to Joe. ‘I’m okay.’
His second DS, Elaine Hart, then took Billy out. Billy didn’t need to know the specifics of the police
side of the op, he was here to provide the info that would get them there, and the information he’d given them was like gold. Shiny and worthwhile.
‘He okay?’ Ray asked when Elaine returned after breaking away from the staffing conversation. Ray hated that he had to identify her by the scar on her face. He had been the one in the driver’s seat. Felt guilty every time he looked at her.
‘Yeah. He’ll let us know when the big boss-man asks to meet him after we’ve made the arrest. The guy is cautious so Billy thinks he will screw everyone around for a few weeks, keep them on their toes first. Gives us time to plan it out, get all the support in place we need. But it all depends on how well the website is running without the need for tech support.’
‘Can’t believe he’s been doing this for the past two years already, to be honest. We need to get the Central Criminal Court Trials Unit involved and make sure the kid walks away from this. I’m not sure he realises he’s been committing offences for the past couple of years.’
8
Vova Rusnac clenched his fists, but kept them down at his side. A muscle in his jaw flickered as he clamped his teeth together. His eyes glittered. He looked from the man talking in front of him to his friend Ion Borta sitting to the side of them. Borta would recognise Rusnac’s impatience with this sliver of a man in front of them. If the man didn’t shut up soon he would find out what happened to men who disrespected him.
Rusnac and Borta had come to England together from their home country of Moldova. Along with Mihai Popa. Rusnac knew a jealousy simmered underneath Borta’s solid exterior because he, Rusnac, had managed to get to Romania before they’d left, and he’d secured a Romanian passport. At the time, the Romanian President had been handing out hundreds of thousands of Romanian passports to Moldovan nationals in an attempt to increase his own country’s citizenship, in a belief he was providing some kind of resistance to the Russophile elements in the Moldovan government. To all intents and purposes, then, Vova Rusnac was now in the UK legally. Whereas Borta had failed to organise himself and make the journey. It was his own lazy fault.
The man Rusnac was facing off with, a small man, petite of frame, bald, with the brightest green eyes, stopped speaking. Looked at Rusnac. Held his eye. Borta turned his attention back to the television that was in the room. A makeshift office space in a temporary office building. Some put-it-together-like-Lego thing.
Then the man spoke again. ‘If you insist on pushing this man through, I can’t guarantee he will survive.’
Rusnac took a deep intake of breath, a whisper heard beneath the clatter of the television.
The male stopped. Waited.
Borta kept his eyes on the screen but his concentration was on the conversation. If it was going to turn from talking to something else, he didn’t want to miss the first hit.
‘I don’t care if he survives. He is paying and he knows the risk. He is signing the paperwork to say as much.’
Rusnac watched the man’s face as it contorted, desperate to release more words. To say his piece. He wouldn’t allow such a confrontation. ‘You need to remember who pays your fees. Or should that be, who pays for your very expensive gambling habit.’ His words were slow. Deliberate. He wanted them to sink in.
The man’s face twisted some more. ‘I’m more than happy to work for you …’
Rusnac had no patience with the word but. ‘You’d rather go to your debtors and let them know you don’t have the –’ he stared hard at him ‘– how much was it?’ He knew, but that wasn’t the point.
The man scrubbed at his face, a flash of despair visible before he covered it with his palms. He turned away from Rusnac. A sound, maybe a whimper, came from behind his hands.
‘That will be a no, then.’
He felt nothing for the man who had everything. Rusnac wasn’t wealthy by anyone’s standards. In fact, most of the money he made was sent back home to his Mama and back to the Russians who had sent him to England, who made it all possible for him to be here, to operate here, to send the money to his Mama and for her to have the drugs she needed to live. He didn’t care that he had little left for himself. He lived in a small dingy flat in a rundown area of Upton Park in London, where it felt like the walls pushed in on him and which stank of rainwater that had been left to stand for three months.
But he was a free man, living in a free country, where the streetlights were always on in the winter. He’d been used to the lights being off, to the world being pitched into a soulless darkness you were afraid to enter. Here he was in a country where water ran out of taps instead of being collected from rain-filled wooden barrels, and where heat wasn’t derived from baked potatoes in your pocket.
So when he was confronted by the whimpers of a man who had squandered so much and took so much for granted, there were no feelings other than disdain and a desire to bend the man to his will. They had a job to do, this man and him. Along with Borta and Popa and the others he had recruited. All he needed was for them to do what they were supposed to do, without any drama.
The man pulled himself straight. Rusnac smiled to himself: he didn’t have the height for this to be much of a statement. ‘Yes, I will do this. Because that is what I have signed up for. And because he understands the risks himself. But, make no mistake about it, I will be outlining the risks to him.’
‘Outline away.’ Rusnac was done now. ‘Because there is one thing stronger in this world than guarantees.’
‘What’s that?’ asked the man.
‘Hope,’ replied Rusnac. ‘We are giving him hope.’
9
Celeste was parked in the bay across the road from the police station, in front of the solicitor’s. Ray took a deep breath, reminded himself he wouldn’t recognise her and that he’d need to accept it, and opened the passenger door, sliding in beside her.
She looked just as beautiful as she always did. She’d come straight from the office, her hair was tied up and she wore a fitted black skirt suit with a cream blouse and heels. There was something about the cut of her clothes, even though they were similar to those worn by the women at work, that made her stand out. He imagined it would be something to do with the price tag.
‘Hey, how was your first day back at work?’ She leaned across the centre console for a kiss. He closed his eyes and kissed her lightly. The scent of her perfume reminded him of who she was as it tickled his senses in the closed confines of the car.
‘It was full on.’ He leaned back in his seat. ‘They’ve thrown me straight in the deep end, certainly no gentle return to work.’
Celeste indicated, checked her mirrors and nosed her way out, not waiting for a break in the traffic – she was going and she was making them let her out. That was her way. She was a determined woman, and predictably, with the nose of her car stuck out, the car behind waved her through. ‘How do you feel about that?’
Ray sighed. It really had been a long day. ‘I don’t know. On the one hand, I could have done with a steady day to reacquaint myself with work and to catch up on all the paperwork that has accumulated in my office, but on the other hand, it’s one way to feel as though you’ve never been away.’ He looked at her profile. Something about it was easier to recognise than her face. ‘There’s something to be said for being thrown in like that and not worrying that you’ve lost what you had.’
She turned to him and he looked out of the passenger window. ‘You would never lose your work game, Ray. You’re too passionate about it.’ She went back to driving. ‘So where do you fancy going to celebrate this throwing into the deep end?’
‘You choose.’ He smiled. ‘I think I’m too tired, trying to swim up from the deep end.’
Celeste laughed. He loved the sound of her voice, the scent of her in the car, the clothes she wore. All the familiar things that were part of who she was.
‘Well, I fancy Thai, then.’
YumYum’s was warm and welcoming; the dark wood and discreet lighting always made Ray feel comfortable there, and the food wa
s delicious. He sat back and rubbed his face.
‘You look tired,’ Celeste observed.
He was tired. It was hard work with Celeste. Facing her this way. Not recognising her. It had been difficult since his release from the hospital, but he had worked on it. They had had time to work on it. But he was tired and a little frazzled from having to push himself so hard to identify everyone throughout the day. The map of the office he had drawn and the list he had made up constantly scrolling through his head, as well as the everyday work he had be getting on with. This was an added complication and he wasn’t sure he could continue to juggle it all.
‘I am tired. I’m sorry.’
‘We’ll get the bill and I’ll take you home. It’s been a long day.’
He rubbed his face again, frustration needling him. ‘I don’t want to cut short your evening. We can stay, have another drink. Maybe dessert?’
‘Ray.’ She waited until he looked at her.
Reluctantly he dragged his eyes over. He wished he could tell her the truth but he was afraid that having something wrong with his head would break them apart.
‘Stop it. I understand you’re tired. It’s not a problem. You’ve been off work six months. You’ve had a busy day. Let’s get you home where you can get some rest.’
10
‘What the hell do you mean we’re doing it this afternoon?’ Ray yelled at Jain, who in turn raised his eyebrows, an expression intended to remind Ray of his higher rank.
Ray sank into the chair behind his desk. A sigh escaped as he bent over to his knees.
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