by Helen Fields
‘But Cadogan died in police custody,’ Ava said. ‘What was the cause of death?’
‘Apparently he hung himself with a sheet. This happened twenty years ago. No CCTV in the cells. No one saw it, no one was ever charged,’ Monroe said.
‘What do we know about Cadogan?’ Tripp asked.
‘Long list of previous, starting with petty offending as a teenager, mainly drug offences in his twenties, possession of weapons, the usual violence and arrests that you find with drug dealing. Never got convicted for anything major, but was known by police to be a dealer. Aged thirty-eight at death. The state paid for cremation and distribution of ashes at the cemetery. No family could be found. Autopsy showed that he was also a long-term drug user. Homeless at the time of the incident after which he died.’
‘And the link to our Cadogan?’ Tripp asked. ‘Is this a relative seeking late justice for the death in custody?’
‘I don’t think so,’ Monroe said. ‘It’s the little boy who’s interesting. The records show he didn’t speak for weeks, not a word, so in an effort to reassure him social workers told him that Cadogan was dead. Apparently, he broke down. The social worker wasn’t expecting that. They assumed he’d be delighted, but he became violent and distraught. After two days of rocking and biting himself, he described some of what had happened. There’s a transcript. He said, “The man came to give Mummy something to help her sleep. She told me to stay in the kitchen. I didn’t want to. I wanted to see the man before I went to school. Mummy started screaming at me to go back in the kitchen but the man laughed and said he wanted to give me a hug. Mummy said no and hit him. She was shouting at him. That made him laugh even more. Mummy hit him and he got cross. He wouldn’t leave, so Mummy started screaming at him. There was a fight and he hit Mummy then she fell asleep. I tried to wake her up. She wouldn’t wake up though and the man didn’t leave. He said I didn’t have to go to school. He said he didn’t have a house so he would live with me now. I tried each day to wake Mummy up. He said I could have him as a daddy as I didn’t have a mummy anymore.” That’s all they got out of him. He was sent to foster carers and referred for the usual medical and psychiatric follow-ups, but we don’t have very much more on him.’
‘The child watched his mother get murdered, then spent the next couple of weeks with the man who killed her, caring for him, calling himself daddy. How the hell does this stuff slip through the net?’ Tripp asked.
‘More easily than you’d think,’ Ava said.
‘Where’s the boy now?’ Tripp asked.
‘We don’t know. His name was Jason Elms. Neighbours said his mother always called him J. He was five at the time, but appeared younger to the police officers attending because he was so underweight and small for his age, probably a result of poor diet. He had some contact with the police during his teenage years, mainly street scuffles, then went off the radar. He doesn’t claim any benefits, no known address, nothing,’ Monroe said.
‘J,’ Ava said, opening the Lily Eustis file on her desk and flicking through the mobile call logs. ‘Lily had a contact called Joe in her phone but the number didn’t work. No other details, any texts they’d sent one another had been deleted.’
‘That could be anyone,’ Monroe said.
‘Right, but then we have Jeremy, another pseudonym. We know that one was false,’ Ava said. ‘Do we have DNA from Jason Elms’ offending?’ Ava asked Monroe.
‘Yes, and a photo, although it’s ten years out of date and I reckon he’s changed his appearance substantially. The DNA is on file from an ABH charge although he was only given a community sentence due to his age,’ Monroe said.
‘Tripp, check the DNA you have against Jason Elms’ file. Monroe, work with the artist on ageing Jason’s custody photo to see if it matches the current Christian Cadogan sketch,’ Ava said.
‘Anything else, ma’am?’ Monroe asked.
‘Yes, get a message out to the press. I want a statement released announcing that the man whose likeness we’ve issued may be going under a name starting with the letter J. We have to find Jason Elms, because whatever bizarre world he’s inhabiting inside his head, I guarantee you, he’s not done yet.’
Chapter Fifty-Six
Brian Perry was not proving to be DS Lively’s favourite person. He’d tried the bathroom trip excuse and been hauled back down from a tiny window through which he was never destined to fit, pretended to fall unconscious, which had resulted in Lively pinching a circle of skin on Perry’s inner thigh and twisting it hard, then resorted to screaming for help. After two hours, Lively had bound, gagged and threatened his life. Those weren’t exactly the control methods Callanach had employed at Interpol, but then Lively wasn’t his usual type of partner. Through it all, Perry’s mobile had been ringing almost constantly. They let it ring, calls and texts remaining unanswered. If anyone wanted to speak to Perry today, they were going to have to visit in person.
It was nearly 5pm by the time the doorbell rang. Callanach had set up the lounge exactly as he’d needed it, coaching and threatening Perry to within an inch of his life. Their unhappy prisoner had been released from his bonds and moved to a more comfortable seat. Free of his gag he had complained and sworn non-stop until Lively had inserted the tip of a taser into Perry’s mouth. Since then, the talkative Mr Perry had been remarkably quiet and compliant. Detective Sergeant Lively had proved extraordinarily inventive by cutting a hole in the back of an armchair through which he could poke his taser so that it remained in contact with Perry’s back, concealing himself at the same time. Callanach was very nearly minded to forgive all the months of insults and piss-taking he’d endured at Lively’s instigation. Checking the street from the bedroom window, Callanach positioned himself behind the open door between the lounge and the hallway.
‘Say it,’ Lively hissed at Perry. Callanach watched the man flinch as the taser was shoved hard into his back.
‘It’s open,’ Perry shouted, his lack of enthusiasm not the least bit veiled.
The kitchen door squeaked on its hinges, then slammed. Footsteps came closer, muffled by the tackiness of the kitchen lino.
‘You haven’t answered your phone all day and the police are on their way to raid this address in connection with … what the hell are you doing with your eyes?’ Dimitri asked.
Perry coughed.
‘Get up, get some shoes on and disappear. Don’t go to the club. The raid’s not for another ten hours but they’ll be watching well before they come in. Ramon doesn’t want you on the street at all until we’ve figured out how to make this go away,’ Dimitri said.
‘I can’t,’ Perry muttered.
‘You can’t what, you idiot?’ Dimitri asked.
‘Can’t get up,’ Perry said.
‘Like hell you can’t. I said get some shoes on,’ Dimitri marched forward, grabbing Perry by the shoulder and wrenching him up. Lively stood, raising the taser and aiming in Dimitri’s direction.
‘What the fuck are you doing?’ Dimitri demanded. ‘Do you have any idea who I am? Lower the taser, you moron.’
‘You see, that’s why I hate the brass. No humility. No understanding of how to address lower ranking officers,’ Lively said.
Perry was trying to shrink against the wall. Callanach stepped out of the doorway and pushed him back towards the chair.
‘Sit down,’ Callanach said. ‘Both of you.’
Dimitri swung round. ‘I know you,’ he said.
‘Then I won’t waste time introducing myself,’ Callanach replied. ‘I want the paint flecks that were taken from Louis Jones’ vehicle. The ones that mysteriously got lost in transit to the lab. Where are they?’
‘Long gone, you idiot,’ Dimitri said. ‘And before you make any further demands, let’s get a little more realistic. I outrank you, and my years of service to Police Scotland will make anything you have to say about me completely irrelevant. So this stops here. I’m leaving now. It’s obvious that this raid was never going to happen, which means you have
no evidence and no cause to make any arrests. I suggest you stop harassing this innocent member of the public who it appears you have falsely imprisoned, before he makes an official complaint or even sues for damages. You can regard your career in Scotland as having reached a full stop, DI Callanach. And whoever you are,’ he said to Lively, ‘you look like you’ve hit pensionable age already. Take the money and get out while you can or I will personally ensure that neither one of you ever sees another pay cheque.’
‘Ach, would you get on and tell him, sir? He’s making a right dick of himself. It’s dreadful to watch,’ Lively said.
‘I want the gun that was used to kill Louis Jones,’ Callanach said. ‘And you can drop the pretence about the paint flecks having been destroyed. In your situation I would keep every bit of evidence against the men who were controlling me. Where have you put them? In a safe, I guess. Not in your office. If anything happened to you, other officers would find it eventually.’
‘I’m done here,’ Dimitri said. ‘But I need a chat with Mr Perry before I go, so you gentlemen can leave now.’
‘Oh, I can’t stand this. You’re on film, Chief Inspector. That mobile leaning on the plant pot there, the brown thing that’s not been watered in an age, has been recording the conversation,’ Lively said, walking over to the phone and handing it to Callanach.
‘That won’t do you any good,’ Dimitri said. ‘You’ve committed so many offences just being in here and mistreating a man not charged with any offence, that you’ll both be in as much trouble as me. What are you going to accuse me of? Mishandling evidence?’
‘We’ll start with perverting the course of justice, and if I can tie you to the Louis Jones case, you’re up on conspiracy to murder. I’d think that would be enough to persuade you to comply,’ Callanach said.
Dimitri drew a gun from his pocket. ‘You know, for a man who was supposedly one of Interpol’s most lauded agents before his disgrace, you are remarkably ill-prepared. Did you think I would walk in here unarmed? Take the sim card out of that phone right now. You’ll find that boiling both the phone and the sim card for a few minutes renders them quite useless. Perry, put the kettle on would you?’
‘Actually, the area where Interpol really helped me was in constantly updating my knowledge and use of technology. The camera was sending a live feed to a social media site I’m registered with. At the moment it is passworded and completely private. All I have to do is change the settings and everyone will be able to see the conversation we just had.’
‘You’re telling me that because you want me to kill you. Is that right?’ Dimitri asked.
‘That won’t help, I’m afraid. I’ve left a message on my desk for the attention of DCI Turner. If I fail to return to my desk to destroy that envelope, she will find a message from me complete with the necessary passwords to be able to view the recorded video feed. You’ll want to lower that gun now,’ Callanach said.
‘Oh man, those boys totally fucked you over,’ Perry whispered.
‘Get out,’ Dimitri told him.
‘But where am I supposed to …’ Perry said.
‘Bedroom, now. Music on loud. Cuff him,’ Dimitri told Lively.
Callanach waited until Perry was secured and beyond any chance of overhearing their conversation, then sat down. ‘If I don’t get the evidence I need to secure a conviction in the Louis Jones murder, we’ll hand over what we have on you instead,’ he said. ‘I want it today. No delays.’
‘You have no idea what you’re getting yourselves into,’ Dimitri said. ‘This isn’t your usual investigation. There are people involved that you don’t want to mess with.’
‘The St Leonard’s police station extension number is on Louis Jones’ incoming call logs, a landline you used shortly before the call out to the Jones crash. Did you threaten him? Tell him he was going to be arrested? Or was it a demand for payment from Trescoe?’ Lively asked.
‘I’m the one who told him to run, you morons. You think I want bloodshed on my patch? I thought I’d left all this behind when those lads got sentenced, only Ramon had different ideas when he was released,’ Dimitri said.
‘So why get rid of the evidence? The best thing you could do is help put them away again,’ Lively said.
‘You think it’s that simple? The things we do when we’re young leave stains. Some never fade. I did things back then that I’m not proud of, and I can’t take them back. I have a family who’ll pay the price. That’s the way Trescoe operates. You have to let this go.’
‘That’s not going to happen,’ Callanach said.
‘For God’s sake, Louis Jones was one of them. He was in it up to his neck. Why the hell are you so bothered about him? He provided the car your DCI was abducted in, and you’re willing to do whatever it takes to avenge his murder? What the hell’s wrong with you?’ Dimitri shouted.
‘It’s not about Jones,’ Callanach said quietly.
‘What?’ Dimitri asked.
‘Lively, give the Chief Inspector and myself a moment, would you?’ Callanach asked.
‘Not while he’s still got a gun in his pocket, with respect, sir,’ Lively said.
‘Hand it over,’ Callanach told Dimitri, who held it out in Lively’s direction without bothering to look at the Detective Sergeant. Lively smiled broadly in response and pocketed the weapon before leaving the room. ‘I’m going to say this once and you’re going to listen. You’re right. I couldn’t care less about Jones, but I did care about Begbie. That was another mess where you were first on the scene. Get me what I want, and do it today, because you are implicated in the death of a fellow officer, which will make whatever you did previously seem like child’s play when it goes to court. I can tell you from experience that being a police officer in a prison is as hard as doing time gets.’
Chapter Fifty-Seven
‘We got a hit on the DNA,’ Tripp said, walking back into Ava’s office. ‘The report says it’s a twelve million to one chance that it belongs to anyone except Jason Elms.’
‘Right, update the publicity,’ she looked at her watch. ‘It’s seven o’clock now so we’ve missed the newspaper print run and the early news programmes. That leaves the late news slots and online media. I’ll have the press office draft a release to say that Elms may either be going under the name Christian or any name starting with J. It’s a long shot but it’s all we’ve got. Also, we’ll have to upgrade the warning from wanted in connection with an incident, to potentially dangerous and should not be approached. Agreed?’
‘Agreed,’ Tripp said. ‘We really could do with all hands on deck. I don’t suppose there’s been any word from DI Callanach or DS Lively, ma’am?’
‘Nothing,’ Ava said. ‘But we can’t worry about that now. I’ll leave another message on Callanach’s voicemail and let him know we need them back here as soon as possible. Other than that, I want officers on the streets. There needs to be a visible police presence. Every unit across the city must be notified and drafted in.’
‘Already on it. Where will you be, ma’am, if I need to contact you?’
‘Out with you, patrolling. Monroe will stay in the control room. I want to be in a car where I can respond if we get the call. I’m sick of the sight of this desk,’ Ava said.
‘Very good. I’ve organised a car from the pool. I’ll let you know when it’s time to go.’
Ava picked up her mobile and tried Callanach again. He’d been off the radar too long, and the problem was that she had no idea where to start looking for him.
‘Luc,’ she said quietly into voicemail. ‘You haven’t called in for hours. People are asking where you and Lively are. If you can’t get hold of me, make sure one of you contacts the control room to update me. Just let me know you got this message. We have a positive ID on Lily and Cordelia’s killer. I’ll give you all the details later. For the remainder of tonight, I’ll be patrolling with Tripp. We’re giving the media the full picture. I hope you’re okay. Please, call or text or something.’
Sean O’Cahill, fresh from a truly fabulous rehearsal, was lacing his boots and checking he had enough money in his wallet.
‘Are you sure you don’t want to join us? I’m meeting Mattie and Rex for a drink first, then we’re off to The Lost Boys to meet this actor, Jackson, who I met at my last audition,’ he called to Bradley.
‘Jackson who?’ Brad shouted from the bath.
‘First name only. He was there when I got the part with the theatre company so it’s another actor. I know you’re rolling your eyes,’ he said. ‘Not all actors are egotistical bores.’
Bradley appeared in the bathroom doorway draped in a towel. ‘True, it’s only most of them,’ he said. ‘And no, honestly, I’m not up for it tonight. You go off out with your loveys. I’d only spend the evening looking at my watch and annoying you.’
‘All right then, but don’t say I didn’t invite you when it’s one in the morning and you’re sad and alone. I’ll be late, by the way, and hungover tomorrow. You’d better have bacon and eggs in the pan when I wake up or I will be unbearable all day.’
‘Go on with you,’ Bradley said. ‘Why don’t you leave your keys here? Just ring the bell and I’ll get up and let you in.’
‘Would you mind? Saves me carrying them all evening.’
‘Saves you losing them again,’ Bradley said. ‘Just phone me when you’re walking back so I have time to wake up properly.’
Sean kissed him. ‘You’re the best. Don’t miss me too much. Love you.’
Bradley smiled, flushed a light shade of red, and waved him goodbye.