Torn Apart

by M A Comley

  “I’m sorry to hear that you’re stretched. Nevertheless, I think you should concentrate on trying to arrest this gang as soon as is humanly possible. Otherwise, I can see things escalating faster than a launching rocket. In my opinion, I think you have a tit-for-tat situation arising here. I’ve heard that the prostitute who got killed last night was one of the Krull Gang’s whores. It can’t be a coincidence that a gang member of one gang gets killed and a prostitute on the Krull Gang’s payroll gets murdered a few days later, can it?”

  “Hmm…Without any kind of proof leading to that assumption, our hands are tied. Do you have proof that is indeed what has happened?”

  “Only reliable hearsay. This particular informant is usually shit hot with his information. All my informants know that I follow up on their info. If it proves to be wrong, they also know that I won’t be paying them in the future.”

  “Fair enough. I don’t suppose your informant told you how many prostitutes the Krull Gang pimps, did he?” Hero pulled a blank sheet of paper from the pile on his desk and picked up a pen, ready to take notes.

  “No, he didn’t. However, what he did say was that these girls hang out around the estate at regular intervals, four sites in all.”

  “Like north, east, south, and west?” Hero drew a square on the sheet and started to fill in the names of the roads surrounding Brickfields Estate.

  “Maybe, who’s to say? Look, I’m just passing on the info I’ve been given to make amends for my cock-up.”

  “Thanks, I appreciate the help. Not sure what I’m going to do with the info yet, but it’s another angle we can tackle. Keep me informed?”

  “Of course. If you promise to keep Rupert involved in the case. He’s lost everything. I just hope he doesn’t lose the will to live.”

  Hero winced. Would Hartley really consider suicide? He answered his own question, Yes, he would. Over the years, he’d heard and seen the results of many heartbroken people who had topped themselves when loved ones had died in normal circumstances, let alone been murdered. “You have my word that I’ll drop by tomorrow. I have a pretty full day ahead of me. Thanks for calling.”

  “I understand. The sooner the better, eh?”

  “It will be.” Hero hung up just before Julie knocked on the door and entered the room.

  “I’ve got on to the city maintenance department, sir. They’re going to check their records and get back to me with regard to the streetlights.”

  “Thanks. Get me a local map of the area, will you? Wait a minute. Better still, I’ll boot up my laptop for you.”

  “Sir?” She pulled the chair opposite Hero nearer to the desk, and he angled the laptop to face her.

  “I’ve just had Wheeler on the phone about this prostitute that was murdered. His contacts have told him that she works for the Krull Gang. She’s part of an army of prostitutes pimped by these guys. According to Wheeler, the girls surround the estate. I started to draw a map, but can’t for the life of me remember the name of the roads around there. I thought if we did the groundwork now, when we go there this evening, we can cruise the area and have a word with the other girls.”

  “Good thinking. I hate to ask, sir, but any idea how long we’re going to be tonight?”

  Hero raised an eyebrow. “Got plans, have you, Sergeant?”

  “Rob did mention something in passing about going out for a meal. I can ring him and postpone if you like.”

  “I’m sorry, I had no idea. What about if we say we’ll call it a day around eight to eight-thirty? You can even have a lie-in tomorrow and come in at ten. How’s that?”

  A slight smile tugged at his sergeant’s mouth. “That’s a deal, sir. I’ll call Rob to let him know after I’ve done this.” She turned the laptop to face him again so that he could type in his password.

  “Any news on the CCTV footage from last night yet?” Hero asked after he’d tapped in his password and swivelled the computer back to her.

  “I’ve got Foxy on it now. Told her to search the roads close to the scene, as there were none actually in the area in question. We’ll see what comes back in a few hours. So you want the roads around the Brickfields Estate?”

  “That’s right. I’ll be with you shortly, after I’ve filled in a few of these damn forms.”

  Julie hit a couple of buttons, and within minutes, she asked, “Do you want me to print this map? It’ll be easier than drawing it from scratch.”

  “Makes sense to me. The computer is linked to the Wi-Fi printer. Just hit print.”

  Within a few minutes, the printer churned to life and spewed out the map. Julie sat back in her chair and folded her arms as if to ask what he wanted her to do next.

  Hero shook his head, which had improved greatly since first thing that morning. “All right, smart arse. Mine’s a coffee with two sugars. I’ll be a little while longer with all this crap. Go and help Foxy with the CCTV. What I really want is to get some decent stills of the girls and any strangers in the area between say seven and—what time was the murder?”

  “Around midnight, sir,” Julie stood up and made her way to the door.

  “Between seven and midnight then. The more ammunition we take out on the street with us tonight, the better.”

  Julie left the office, and he rushed through the urgent paperwork, leaving what could wait for when he had more time to deal with it.

  Twenty minutes later, Hero joined the two sergeants at Foxy’s desk. “Anything?”

  “Quite a lot, as it happens.” Julie handed him the still photos he’d asked for. Nearly all of them were of tarty-looking women. She pointed to one of the photos. “That’s the girl who was murdered.”

  “Hmm…Well, from this picture, it looks like the streetlight was working, at least where she was standing. Does that mean someone attacked her without fear of recrimination? Not bothered if they were seen or not?”

  “It certainly looks that way to me. The pathologist suggested she was killed in that spot. There were no signs of the body being moved.”

  “Interesting. I told Wheeler I’d pop in and check on Hartley. I did say I’d do it tomorrow, but thinking about it further, I might as well get it out of the way today. There’s not much we can do around here, anyway—not until we’ve had a word with the girls this evening.”

  “Anything in particular you’d like me to do, sir?” Julie asked as she took the photos from him.

  “Why don’t you go home for a few hours? I know we agreed for you to come in later tomorrow. I just think things will need sorting here tomorrow more than this afternoon. You’re only waiting on a call from city maintenance, aren’t you?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Well, anyone can deal with that. Go home and come back at three, how’s that?”

  Julie nodded and retrieved her handbag from beside her desk. “I’m not going to argue with that, sir. I’ll see you later.”

  Hero turned back to Foxy. “Have all the CCTV tapes been examined now?”

  “Yes, sir. Is there anything else you’d like me to do?”

  “Everything is still rather vague at this point, Foxy. See what else you can dig up on this Krull Gang, if you would? I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

  • • •

  Hero arrived at the Hartley mansion about twenty minutes later. James opened the door and seemed surprised to see him standing on the front doorstep.

  “Is Mr. Hartley expecting you, sir?”

  “No. I called ’round on the off chance. Is he here?” Hero looked over the butler’s shoulder, up the empty hallway.

  James pulled open the door, inviting him in. He gave Hero a brief smile. “I’ll see if Mr. Hartley will see you, sir. Would you care to wait for him in the library?”

  “Thanks.”

  Hero waited for at least another five minutes for the butler to return. He placed a tray with two cups and saucers and a coffee pot on the side table. “Mr. Hartley will be with you shortly, Inspector. Please help yourself to coffee.”

/>   The butler closed the door quietly behind him, and while Hero waited for Rupert to arrive, he took the opportunity to wander along the bookshelves. Most of the leather-bound books looked as though they’d never been handled, leading Hero to think they were collector’s pieces that had never been read. He placed his hands behind his back so that he wasn’t in any way tempted to touch the spines.

  He was deep in concentration when Hartley’s voice startled him. “Do you like reading, Inspector?”

  Hero spun around to face him. “I’m more of a James Patterson fan.”

  “Ah, I see. I like to read something new every day. It broadens one’s knowledge. I have to admit that I haven’t read anything since…” He walked over to the chair and slumped into it.

  Hero tried to keep his tone upbeat when he replied, “You do actually read all these books then? I thought they were just for show.”

  Hartley opened the small drawer in the table beside him and withdrew a pair of white cotton gloves. “I wear these when I read them. You’re correct in your assumption. Most of them are extremely valuable, priceless in some cases. I find words fascinating. Where would we be without words? Either to speak or to read without them would prove to be an impossible task. People don’t realise how valuable they are.”

  “I’ve never really thought about it like that. People do tend to take things for granted. I suppose I’m guilty of that.”

  “This is all I have left to care for, yet I don’t seem to have the enthusiasm for a passion that once consumed most of my day. What news do you have for me, Inspector?”

  Hero puffed out his cheeks and blew out a breath. “Nothing much really. These gangs are a law unto themselves. I’ve had a word with my chief to see if we can force the Crown Prosecution Service into working with us, but their hands are tied without the evidence to back up our findings.”

  Hartley’s eyes narrowed before he spoke. “So you’re telling me that these gangs repeatedly get away with murder?”

  As much as Hero wanted to deny it, he couldn’t. The government bringing in the ASBOs had done very little to help communities. To Hero, the only thing the disorder offences had achieved was giving the gangs another badge of glory to attain, to wear with pride, and shove up people’s noses. “I hate to admit it, but sometimes, that is the case, Mr. Hartley. Although, in your wife’s and son’s case, believe me when I say I’m doing everything in my power to ensure that doesn’t happen.”

  Rupert remained quiet for a moment or two, and in that time, Hero watched the expression on his face alter many times. Everything from hurt to anger contorted his tired features before he spoke again. “Dave Wheeler ran a story the other day. Did you see it?”

  “I did. I must admit I was angry at first that he’d run the story, I became worried about his safety. These boys—men—are dangerous. People tend to forget that fact. Hitting out publicly at them will achieve nothing come the end. I wish people would leave us to get on with our job—”

  “With respect, Inspector, you’ve spent the past ten minutes telling me how difficult your job is without the CPS backup. Dave ran that story as a favour to me. Our friendship obviously means more to him than living under a threat that these men will come after him. I, for one, am grateful for his input.” Hartley finished his coffee and set the cup back down in its saucer.

  “I can understand your anger, Rupert. At the end of the day, it’ll be the police work that will be the downfall of these gangs. This gang, in particular, will have the might of my team after them until they’re apprehended. You have my word on that.”

  Hartley appeared to drift off into a thoughtful haze again. “We’ll see, Inspector. Only time will tell, eh?”

  “It’s all I can give you right now. To others, my word is usually good enough. I promised Wheeler that I would keep you informed about the investigation, and that’s been my intention today. Who knows what tomorrow will bring. I’ll keep in touch, as promised.”

  Rupert stood up, and Hero extended his hand for him to shake. The grieving man shook it grudgingly. They walked back up the long hallway to the front door.

  “I’ll be in touch shortly.”

  “I hope with news that the scum are behind bars before they rip another family apart,” Hartley said sullenly.

  “I hope so, too. Ring me anytime, day or night, if you need to talk to me.”

  Hartley nodded and closed the door behind him.

  On his way to the car, Hero rang Fay at home. “Hi, sweetheart.”

  “Hi. Well this is unusual. What’s up?”

  “Bad news, I’m afraid. I’ve got to go and see some possible witnesses to a murder this evening. I won’t be home until about nine.”

  “Well that’s a first.” Hero heard the smile in his wife’s voice.

  “What is?”

  “You ringing me to say you’re going to be late rather than turning up at gone eleven. Are you feeling all right?”

  “Fine thanks. The hangover took a while to clear this morning. Thought I’d give the pub a miss tonight and come home to see my lovely wife instead.”

  “Why?”

  “We’ll chat later, love. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately, that’s all. I’ll see you around eight thirty to nine.”

  “Okay, see you later, darling. Oh, and Hero?”

  “Yes, sweetheart.”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.” He pressed the button to disconnect the call and leaned against his car door, thinking what a prize jerk he’d been. Never before had one case called into question his own life and how he lived it the way this one had. Things had to change, or he feared he would lose Fay and Louie for good. It was time he grew up and took his responsibilities seriously for a change.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Dusk was drawing in, along with an evening chill, when Hero and Julie arrived at the scene. “Let’s hope we get some results from this,” Hero said as they got out of the car and crossed the road to a redhead standing on the corner of Silcott Way.

  The redhead made out she was sniffing the air. She smiled a hateful smile at the two detectives. “I smell filth.”

  Hero held up his warrant card. “DI Nelson, and this is DS Shaw. Mind if we ask you a few questions?”

  “Have I got a choice?” She dipped her hand into her handbag and pulled out a packet of cigarettes and a lighter. She lit a cigarette, placed it between her blood-red-painted lips and inhaled deeply.

  “Were you working here last night?”

  “Last night, the night before that, and the one before that. Hey, man, I work every damn night. I have to. Why?”

  Hero frowned. “You heard about the murder last night, didn’t you?”

  “Of course I did.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Goes with the territory. Like I said to that newbie yesterday, ‘Get out while you can before it’s too late.’”

  “Newbie?”

  “Yeah, the girl who was asking all the questions last night. She said it was her first night on the game. She looked pretty green, too, if you get my meaning.”

  “Did you catch her name?” Hero motioned for Julie to hand him the file she had tucked under her arm. Taking the file, he withdrew the pictures from the CCTV footage. “Can you point the newbie out for me?”

  Reluctantly the redhead flicked through the pictures and stopped at the penultimate one. “That’s her. Not the best picture in the world of her, but I recognise the naff clothes she’s wearing. Quality threads don’t belong on prossies.”

  Hero raised a questioning eyebrow at Julie as if asking her why she hadn’t spotted that clue back at the station. It’s not down to me to spot clues about fashion, is it? He knew he was being unfair to his partner. It wasn’t her responsibility to spot designer clothes. Could people even tell nowadays, anyway?

  “What happened? Did the woman leave after you tried to dissuade her she wasn’t cut out for the job?”

  “Yeah, she surprised me by leaving. Didn’t look put out or nothing. She obvious
ly don’t know how much a girl can make out here. Not that we keep much of it.”

  “Who’s your pimp?” Julie was quick to ask.

  The redhead glared and looked her up and down. “Why, you after a part-time job?” She laughed at her own joke, and Hero had to stifle a grin as he watched the revulsion radiate from Julie in waves.

  He cleared his throat and repeated his partner’s question. “Who’s your pimp?”

  “What’s it to you?”

  “Do you want to take this down the station?” Hero asked, not in the least bit amused by her attitude.

  “Are you mad? If I leave this spot now, I might as well not bother working tonight. This is the prime location around here.”

  “Then answer the question,” Hero insisted.

  “It’s the Krull Gang,” the redhead mumbled almost incoherently.

  “The Krull Gang, was that?”

  “Yes,” the redhead snapped back. She glanced around her nervously as though the mere mention of the gang’s name would invite trouble to descend upon her.

  “Are they due here this evening?” Hero asked, feeling a little on edge himself at the thought of coming up against the violent gang out in the open.

  “Nah, they called for their money last night, early.”

  “Getting back to the murder, do you get much trouble from punters in this neck of the woods?”

  “Depends. Some punters like to rough the girls up a bit, but we’ve never had a girl killed around here before.” The girl’s hardened features softened slightly as she spoke.

  “Was Sara Brown a friend of yours?”

  Her shoulders straightened, and she sniffed noisily. “We all look out for each other. She shared a room with me back at the squat. I’ll miss her bothering me about wanting to wear my blusher, but thems the breaks, huh?”

  “Did she have any bother from the Krull Gang? Could one of them have killed her?”

  “Why the fuck would they do that? They’d be cutting off their own noses, wouldn’t they? Like all of us, she supplied them with money, so they can sit around on their arses all day instead of working.”