by Joy Ellis
‘She still reckons it was just one man?’
‘Yeah, but I don’t buy that. Snatch her, drive the car, drag her to some place safe, torture her? All on his own?’
‘She’s not exactly an Amazon, Cat. If he stunned her, then bundled her into his boot, I think he could manage pretty easily.’
‘What, and tell her to hold still while he took a pair of wire cutters to her finger?’
‘She must have been unconscious for that bit.’
‘She says she remembers it, and I believe her. Every time I get anywhere near that part, her eyes go the size of dinner plates.’
‘What about a description of him?’ Ben asked.
Cat looked down at her pocket book. ‘Well, at least I’ve managed to prise that out of her, for what it’s worth. Tall, rough-looking, badly cut dirty blond hair, and shabby clothes. Old denim jeans, a check shirt and some sort of weatherproof jacket, two-tone brown with a padded lining. Age, she’s not sure. Maybe thirty something. Oh, and he smelled bad. Shall I ring this through to the station, or will you?’
Ben stood up and tried unsuccessfully to smooth the creases from his trousers. ‘I’ll do it. Seeing as she won’t even tolerate me in the room with her, I’d better make myself useful somehow. And I’ll get us some breakfast while I’m out. Any preferences? I’m told the cafeteria food is almost edible.’
‘Coffee and a bun of some kind will be fine, Ben.’ She took out her purse. ‘My turn. You’ve been keeping me in coffees all night.’
Ben Radley reluctantly took the ten pound note. ‘Get back in there, girl. If you can get enough out of her to nail this bastard, I promise I’ll buy you the best slap-up dinner Derby has to offer, okay?’
‘You’re on, Detective. And be warned, I have expensive taste.’ With another stretch, Cat walked back through the door and sat down once again beside the young woman.
* * *
In the CID room, Joseph had hung a map of Greenborough on the wall and was busy sticking coloured pins in it. ‘I wish we had one of the new computer-generated screens.’
‘Oh, fat chance. Rumour has it we are selling off this building. It’s that, or go bankrupt next year.’ Dave looked dejected at the thought. ‘I cannot believe that the government cutbacks have made things this bad.’
‘Well, in that case maybe I should be thankful for these little coloured markers, and I’ll be very careful not to lose one,’ replied Joseph sarcastically. ‘Right, any more confirmed sightings of Carver?’
Dave scanned his list. ‘Just one from a CCTV camera in Theobald Street, the Marina end. He was travelling in a silver grey Merc confirmed to be a taxi. He was with two unknown males and a female, heading out of town.’
Joseph added another pin to the map and stood back. ‘Not exactly covered, is it? Ten sightings in three weeks.’
‘And all somewhere in and around the west side of the town,’ added Dave. ‘Odd. It’s neither high end posh, where you’d expect to find him, nor somewhere like the Carborough Estate.’
‘What do we have of interest in the western area?’ Joseph traced his finger in a circle on the map. ‘The marina, and that is pretty low key. A few interesting redevelopments like the Grain Store and the Seed House. Other than that there is very little, other than some half-decent properties, and on the outskirts, the golf club.’
‘The Leather Bottle is down by the river. It’s not the most salubrious pub in town, but that and the Olde White Swan down Back Alley were the favourite haunts of many of our best clients, back in the day.’
‘Like the Leonards?’
‘Oh no, their watering hole was the Fisherman’s Knot. Not that they hang out there anymore, although I reckon a few low-lifes still try the odd deal from the back room.’
Joseph rubbed at an aching shoulder. ‘Greenborough isn’t Freddie Carver’s kind of place at all, is it? What’s he up to?’
‘I’ve got a horrible feeling we’ll find out soon enough,’ said Dave gloomily.
Sheila Robins waved to him from the doorway. ‘Sergeant Easter? I’ve got some files for you from DI Mercer. Shall I put them on your desk?’
Joseph walked over to her. ‘I’ll take them, thank you, Sheila.’
‘More work?’ asked Dave.
‘Bit of a favour actually.’ He looked at Dave with interest. ‘Did you ever know Dina Jarvis?’
‘You are asking the wrong person, Sarge, but the right one just walked in the door.’
Joseph looked up to see Yvonne Collins and his soon to be son-in-law, Niall Farrow. ‘Perfect timing, you guys. Dina Jarvis? What can you tell me?’
Yvonne narrowed her eyes, then nodded to herself. ‘Yes, the girl that disappeared in January 2014. Pretty, dark-haired, around five foot three, blue eyes, one brother, Dominic. Lived with him at 53 Woolpack Lane, Eastside, Greenborough. Did a bit of temping then worked at the printing company on Main Road. Friendly, no run ins with us, although I seem to recall a report from her brother about her attracting a possible stalker, that was about six months before she disappeared.’ Yvonne tilted her head to one side. ‘And that is all I can remember off the top of my head.’
Joseph never ceased to be amazed by Yvonne’s powers of recollection. ‘That’s plenty, thanks.’ He scratched his head. ‘Did you ever have any theories about what happened?’
‘We did,’ said Niall. ‘Didn’t we, Vonnie?’
Yvonne nodded. ‘We didn’t have any dealings with Dina, but we did have a few minor skirmishes with the brother.’
‘Four to be precise,’ chipped in Niall. ‘We decided it was because he felt responsible for Dina, so he was, well, a bit overprotective.’
‘We reckoned she was looking for a way out, and when she got an offer, she jumped at it. And she was seeing someone. We know that for sure, don’t we, Niall?’ Yvonne looked at her crew-mate.
‘Oh yes, I saw her myself one night, round the back of the Golden Dragon restaurant. The clinch she was in was definitely more than just a friendly snog. But sorry to say, I didn’t recognise him.’
Yvonne nodded. ‘We had an influx of migrant workers and field hands from other areas at that time, and there were a lot of new faces around.’
‘After she disappeared I tried my hardest to remember what he looked like, but they were in the dark, and I didn’t exactly like to stare.’
Joseph shrugged. ‘Seems almost cut and dried, doesn’t it? And I suppose the brother was incandescent at us for not launching a major enquiry?’
‘Yes and no,’ said Yvonne. ‘He’s never stopped hounding us, it’s true, but he never went to the extremes that some families do when a loved one goes missing. He never got the press involved in a big way.’
‘He never got up petitions, like you would have thought he would.’ Niall added.
‘And he never used social media to accuse us of letting her down or not doing our job.’
Joseph made a face. ‘Well, that’s one blessing, but as you say, it is unusual.’
‘We think that in his heart of hearts, he knows what happened to his sister. He just can’t admit that she would move on and make a life away from him. Hence he makes waves every so often because it’s expected of him, but he knows, Sarge, he knows.’
Niall suddenly looked older. He was so much more the capable adult now than when he first came to Greenborough. Joseph had always loved the young policeman’s enthusiasm but had wondered if he would ever grow up. Now it seemed he had, and Joseph was glad that he was going to join his family. ‘Thanks for that, you two. Much appreciated. Now, any news on Fat Freddie?’
‘Not much, I’m afraid,’ said Yvonne. ‘Just some rumours, nothing concrete. The thing that bothers everyone, straight and crooked, is that he doesn’t seem to be doing anything. He’s made no deals, no takeover bids, no threats and carried out no criminal activities that anyone knows of. His silent presence in the area is almost more worrying than if he was causing mayhem.’
‘Why didn’t he go back to his old hunting ground, the bi
g smoke?’ Dave asked.
‘Because too many people are after him,’ Niall answered immediately. ‘And I don’t mean just the Met, although they have numerous charges waiting for him. At the time he fled the country, he’d upset one or two big-time villains. He’s not welcome down south.’
‘He’s not welcome here either,’ growled Dave. ‘Of all the other places he could have gone — big cities, small cities, towns with amenities — hell, why come to the Fens?’
‘Well, we have something he wants, or he wouldn’t be here. We’ve just got to dig deeper.’ Yvonne glanced at her watch. ‘And that reminds me, we are meeting Rancid in ten minutes.’
Joseph looked amused. ‘Who?’
Yvonne grinned. ‘He’s a snout that I’ve been running for years — Rancid Reg Milner. Nosey little bugger, but a mine of information and happy to share it for a small remuneration.’
‘None of which he spends on toiletries,’ added Niall, wrinkling up his nose.
‘Then good luck with that. Report back if your smelly snout gives you anything.’
‘Other than fleas?’ muttered Niall, as he closed the door.
Joseph smiled, then recalling what Yvonne had said about the crooks of Greenborough also being concerned, he pulled out his phone and keyed in Mickey Leonard’s number.
‘Hi, Joe! How goes it? Are you phoning with my invite to the wedding?’
Joseph laughed. ‘Not much goes on around here without you hearing about it, does it?’
‘How right you are.’
‘Mickey, can I run something past you?’
‘Sure, what’s worrying you?’
Joseph still found it hard to equate this bright teenager with the troubled child that he had helped to get his life back. ‘I’m sure your family is very aware of an unwanted visitor to the neighbourhood?’
Mickey went quiet for a moment. ‘Yes, we seem to have a nasty outbreak of vermin around here, don’t we?’
‘It’s King Rat I’m interested in.’
‘Aren’t we all?’
‘I’m very keen that there are enough traps on the ground to make him seek pastures new, if you catch my drift?’ Joseph waited a few seconds.
‘I think we’re going to need the Pied Piper for this one, Joe. But I suggest you and Inspector Nik talk to Uncle Raymond. He is pretty keen on exterminating this pest problem too. I think he’ll be prepared to pass on info, if you’d do the same?’
Joseph had been here before. ‘I’ll talk to the inspector and if she agrees, we’ll contact Raymond and set up a meeting. Thanks, my friend. How is life treating you these days?’
‘Good, Joe, very good. I’ve got a girlfriend, how about that?’
‘Hey! That’s great news. What’s her name?’
‘Millie, and she’s so cool! Can’t believe my luck.’
‘Then hang on to her, kid, and treat her well. You’re not such a bad catch yourself, you know.’
‘Aw, Joe, come on! I’m hardly Justin Bieber.’
‘That’s a relief! You’re a brave kid with a good heart, cling to that, okay?’
‘See you, Joe. And don’t forget the wedding invite.’
‘Should I send it to Mickey Leonard and guest?’
‘Why not? Let’s live a little!’
Joseph ended the call smiling. If ever there was a story to make you believe in the power of good over evil, then it was that of young Mickey and his climb up from the gutter. Some things about this job sucked, like finding dead girls, but some things, like Mickey, made everything worthwhile.
* * *
He was acting strangely. He seemed so charged up with energy that it was impossible for him to keep still for a minute. She watched him pace the room, waving his hands as he talked. He even offered to take her out into the garden for a while. She smiled at that, but decided not to act as if it were important to her. She had to be careful — too much enthusiasm and he would change his mind.
Her whole being screamed to be allowed to sit under the sun, to feel cool grass beneath her feet and to breathe fresh air. She begged silently to be free of the stuffy cottage and the dark, oppressive rooms, even if just for a while.
As he left, pulling the door closed behind him, her heart sank. He had already forgotten his suggestion. She shifted in the easy chair. The pain was almost unbearable today. But then, when wasn’t it? And this time she could not blame him for forgetting her medication. He had been better than usual of late, and now he seemed positively on top of the world. She wanted to be happy for him, but it worried her. She loved him, but he was impossible to understand. She was sure that if she knew the cause of his recent high spirits, it would not fill her with similar transports of delight.
The door opened and he came back in, his smile wider than ever. To her surprise, he gently helped her to stand. A jolt of pain seared through her, and he waited while she caught her breath. Slowly he walked her out to the old wooden garden seat and sat her in the middle of a heap of cushions that he had made ready for her. He flustered around her solicitously, danced off and returned with a blanket for her legs and a glass of lemonade. He was talking fast, babbling. He was telling her to enjoy the fresh air, it was a beautiful day and she must make the most of the sunshine before autumn turned to winter. He said he had to get back to work later, but there was a little time for her to relax outside, although she must call him if she was tired or wanted to return to her bed.
As if! She couldn’t even answer him. She felt a lump in her throat, and she knew that tears were not far away. She smiled again, and he was gone. He glanced back at her once before entering the cottage, then grinned, pushed the long fringe from his eyes, and disappeared inside.
The smell of the overgrown garden and the clean, crisp morning air were like champagne to her. She felt drunk with pleasure. She had not been outside for two years.
* * *
‘Cat? Is that you?’
‘Line’s bad, ma’am, I’m walking around outside. Is that better?’
‘That’s fine. How are things there?’
‘Apart from the fact that I’ve probably got piles from sitting on a hospital chair for hours on end, I finally have some good news!’
Nikki sighed with relief. ‘At last! Go on, spill the beans.’
‘Sophie is Sophia Kraja, an Albanian illegal immigrant. She had been working for a gang master somewhere outside Greenborough. You know the score, ma’am, bloody hard graft, shipped around the fields cutting cabbages or picking daffs, wherever the work is. Then she and another girl got offered a job in a big nursery somewhere in Derbyshire.’
‘Don’t tell me, when she got there . . . ?’
‘Yup, no nursery, but surprise, surprise, if they wanted to earn enough money to feed themselves, there did just happen to be two vacancies at a seedy nightclub.’
‘Poor kids! And I’m guessing it didn’t end there?’
‘Far from it. The bastards that owned the club weren’t looking for glam hostesses or pretty pole dancers, just sex workers. And whoever picked those two girls up did a really good job of scaring the shit out of them. They were threatened with jail or deportation, and they were told that their families would suffer too. That’s what really put the fear of God in them.’
‘How did you prise all this out of her?’
‘She’s not a bad kid, ma’am. After farting around for far too long, I decided that considering the kind of life she’d led, she was probably a damned sight tougher than I’d given her credit for, certainly tough enough to be told the truth. So I told her exactly what happened to her two predecessors, and what would certainly happen to the next young woman who fell prey to those animals. When she understood how close she’d come to being tortured for months and ending up dead, her conscience kicked in. Oh, and the fact that I had a long chat with immigration. In light of what she’s suffered, they are going to try to help her.’
‘Nice one, Cat! Good for you.’
‘Wait for the rest. We’ve just sat with a map and B
en Radley’s stop watch and tried to work out roughly where she was taken. From the length of time she was on the road, and then dragged through woods and such, we place it somewhere south of Buxton. She was blindfolded, but she said the place she was held in stank of animals and manure. We reckon it must have been a barn or some old farm building. Then she gets very vague. A tox screen showed faint traces of some kind of rohypnol type drug, so we think she was given something prior to her finger being amputated.’
‘Thankfully, I suppose.’ Nikki winced at the thought of the wire cutters.
‘From the beating she took, I don’t think it was out of kindness, ma’am, more like a way to keep her still while he mutilated her.’ Nikki imagined Cat shuddering. ‘Well, we’ve passed it all on to the Derby lads, and if you think that’s all I can do here, I guess I can head back?’
‘And Sophie?’
‘Derby is taking her into care, just as soon as she’s discharged from hospital. They know how serious this is, they’ll watch her day and night and she’ll be well looked after.’ Cat yawned down the phone.
‘You sound like you need some rest, are you okay to drive?’
‘I’m okay, and Ben is coming back with me, so he can drive if I get sleepy.’
‘Cat, before you go, how did Sophie get away from this man, or men?’
‘She’s still adamant it was a single male who hurt her, but she thought she heard other voices at the barn, or wherever she was held. Whatever, this bloke had some kind of an attack. He couldn’t breathe. From the way she described it, I’d say it was asthma. As soon as she realised what was happening, she took off and ran like the hounds of hell were after her. She had no idea where she was going, it was just pure luck that she wandered onto the main A52.’