Torn Apart

by M A Comley

  The gang knew when not to push their luck, and this was one of those times. The other three members left their leader’s flat, which he had acquired after he’d killed the drug dealer who owned it, and went in search of answers.

  Crabbie watched from the window as the three other gang members set off on foot in different directions, as he’d instructed. He doubted they would return with the news he wanted, but he intended to use the peace and quiet to work out what to do next. His first priority had to be to protect the rest of the girls. He would get the boys to take turns patrolling the area. That would send out a message to any rival gang that was guilty of pissing him off. The trouble was, he’d pissed off enough people lately that he had a list of possible culprits the length of his old dear’s shopping list. Either way, he had to put an end to it at the earliest possible moment before his income was jeopardised further. He’d come to rely on that income—they all had. And the thought of losing it twisted his stomach into tight, sickening knots. He wouldn’t want that to happen, ever.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Hero’s frustration was multi-layered during the journey back to the station. He wanted to spend more time on the Hartley case. However, the prostitute murders were getting in the way. What are the odds on the two cases being connected? He knew the Krull Gang were at the centre of both, all three cases in fact. His instinct was telling him that everything was definitely linked. He just couldn’t figure out how or why. The only possible link screaming at him was the Krull Gang. Was it possible another gang was doing a number on them and creating havoc? Lighting the touchpaper and standing back, waiting for the Krull Gang to explode into tiny fragments. He’d seen that happen over the years—gangs playing mind games with other gangs just for the sake of it or to gain more turf. Since the city was rife with prostitution, Hero suspected that more scenarios like this would be the norm until these gangs were stopped all together. It was up to the government to give the police back the authority to be more heavy-handed with these thugs. In Hero’s mind, ASBOs did fuck all, except to empower the gangs more.

  He pulled his car into his allotted parking space, and he and Julie made their way back upstairs to the incident room.

  “Everything all right, Foxy?”

  “Yes, sir. Could you ring Dave Wheeler back when you have a mo?”

  “I’ll do it now. Julie, can you check out Polly Arnold’s record, if she has one, and get back to me. I’ll be in my office.”

  “Yes, sir.” Julie placed her handbag on the floor beside her and wiggled the mouse to her computer, bringing the screen to life.

  Hero went through to his office and placed his jacket on the back of the chair, then rang the journalist.

  “Wheeler? It’s DI Nelson. What can I do for you?”

  “Hi, thanks for getting back to me so quickly. Did you manage to visit Rupert after our last phone call?”

  “I did. You’re right. He doesn’t look good. Now is the time he needs his friends to rally around him. I’m doing all I can at this end, but new cases keep cropping up. You know how understaffed we are. New cases tend to take precedence.”

  “I know you have to work with targets, Inspector. Surely the more crimes you solve, the better. I would’ve thought older cases would be at the top of your agenda.”

  “You’re right. They should be. Like I said, we’re understaffed.”

  “Okay, in that case let me try and help you out a little,” Wheeler said mysteriously.

  Intrigued, Hero said, “Go on. I’m all ears.”

  “I had a call from one of my informants this morning.”

  “Concerning what?”

  Wheeler tutted. “Give me a chance to finish. My guy was getting in touch about the prostitute who was murdered.”

  “Prostitute? Which one?” Hero asked then regretted his reply.

  “Both of them, and yes I do know about the one who was killed last night.”

  “And?”

  “And…my snitch says that a woman was the murderer.”

  Hero contemplated his answer this time before responding. “Did he see the incident?”

  “Not first-hand, but someone he knew did.”

  “Oh, Christ! Is this going to be like one of those Chinese whisper games?”

  Wheeler laughed. “Unless you have any concrete evidence to be going on with, I would’ve thought you’d be glad of some assistance.”

  “Yeah, I am. But I still need to hear factual evidence, not just hearsay. Would your guy be willing to come in and make a statement?”

  “Er…I don’t think that’s on the cards, Inspector. I’m just passing on some information in case your investigations are leading you in the wrong direction.”

  “I appreciate the help. I’ll see if the information comes in handy. Thanks for calling.”

  Before Hero could hang up, Wheeler said, “Umm…before you go, there’s another incident I believe you should be looking at.”

  “Really? And what’s that?” Hero asked, his tone bordering on boredom. There was no point to Wheeler giving him any more hearsay. He needed concrete proof to back up his stories before he could action anything. Even then, he doubted he’d be able to pull the gang in until he got the go-ahead from his superiors, which didn’t look like it would be happening.

  “You might want to look into an incident involving some torched vehicles.”

  Hero waited a beat before he responded, hoping that Wheeler would elucidate further. “That’s a bit cryptic. Is that it?”

  Wheeler sighed. “Oh, hold on a minute. I’ll clear my desk and then come over and help you with your investigations, shall I?”

  Wheeler hung up before Hero could reply to his sarcastic retort.

  Expelling a long sigh, Hero hung up and walked into the incident room again. He approached the whiteboard along the far wall and started making notes on the murders that had come to their attention, plus the fire, which he intended to get his team looking into, eventually. But the murders had to take priority at this stage. He placed Saskia and her son Laurence on the left-hand side of the board and Sara Brown and Polly Arnold on the right. The gang-on-gang attack would be dealt with at a later date. “Foxy, that CCTV picture you pulled up of the strange woman at the scene of the first murder, can you dig out the still picture and bring it over, please?”

  Foxy located the picture she was after amongst the various files piled on her desk and handed it to Hero. He placed the photo in the centre of the board. Then, with the special marker pen, he drew lots of lines and circles over the surface of the board for the next few minutes. All the time, his gaze kept returning to the picture of the woman in the middle. Is a woman really capable of killing these girls? Why didn’t the girls put up any kind of fight?

  “Has anyone run this woman’s image through the facial recognition programme yet?”

  Foxy nodded. “Yes, sir. Nothing showed up, I’m afraid.”

  “Julie, any information on Polly Arnold yet?”

  “Nothing from the desk sergeant as yet, sir. He’s contacting the other stations within a twenty-mile radius of the area she worked to see if they’ve made any arrests. I’m waiting for him to get back to me on that.”

  “Okay, leave it five minutes, then chase him up again. I keep coming back to this woman.” He dotted the board beside her photo with his pen. “I’ve had a call to say that someone saw a woman kill the second prostitute. I’m inclined to think we should be trying to track down this woman. The question is how?”

  The group knew it was a rhetorical question. They left their desks and gathered around, knowing that once Hero started drawing his diagrams on the board, he was slowly starting to slot the pieces into place.

  “Why now?” Julie mumbled.

  “Sorry? Speak up, Julie,” Hero ordered, his eyes never straying from the board.

  “I said, why now?”

  Hero turned to look at her, his brow furrowed as he thought over the simple question. “Hmm…why indeed?”

  Foxy sat o
n the edge of the desk nearest to him. “Is it a vendetta? Another gang cutting off the Krull Gang’s income, or is it something more sinister than that?”

  Hero drew a couple of circles leading out from the Krull Gang. In one of the circles, he wrote Turf War, and in the other, cutting off gang’s income!

  “Anyone know how these girls are recruited by the Krull Gang?”

  “I suppose it’s the same old scenario that these girls are desperate for money. They must be, mustn’t they? Isn’t that what prostitution is? A form of desperation? No one does it for the enjoyment factor, do they?” Foxy said.

  “You have a point there. Anyone an expert on gang culture?” Hero scanned his team, but all of them shook their heads.

  “I can do some research for you,” Julie volunteered, always keener to sit at her desk searching the net than to go out and about as his partner, getting involved in real police action.

  “You do that, Julie. I want to know what we’re dealing with here before we go in heavy-handed.”

  His partner frowned. “I thought you were talking about getting an ART unit involved, sir?”

  “I’ve discussed it with the chief. I’m still awaiting a response. Let’s try and get into the minds of these people, see what makes them tick.” Hero noticed Foxy’s concerned expression. “What’s wrong, Foxy?”

  “I don’t know, sir…” she started, dubiously. Hero smiled, encouraging her to proceed. “Well, I just don’t think we should throw all our resources at trying to figure out the gangs. You said yourself, this woman seems to be the key to the murders. How do we know she is connected to a rival gang?”

  Hero thought over her suggestion for a second or two before he responded. “You’re correct. We don’t. But to think that she is carrying out these murders off her own bat is unthinkable, isn’t it?” The group shrugged in unison. Out of frustration, Hero turned on one of the male members of his team. “Powell, give us some insight into your thoughts on the matter.”

  The chubby man shuffled from one foot to the other, and Hero could see the wheels turning as he tried to come up with something useful to say. “I’m inclined to agree with Foxy on this one, sir.”

  “Well, don’t stop there, man,” Hero said, his voice rising a little, betraying that his frustration was turning into annoyance.

  “Maybe we should take it in turns to do some overnight surveillance, sir.”

  Hero raised an eyebrow. “Are you looking for overtime to pay some bills, Lance? Or has the wife relegated you to the spare room again?”

  The tension eased, and the group laughed—everyone except Powell. His plump cheeks had reddened, and he looked more uncomfortable than he had when Hero had first asked for his opinion. “Sorry, sir, I thought it was a good idea, but you obviously think otherwise.”

  Hero shook his head. “One of these days, you’ll get to understand my warped sense of humour, Lance. Maybe you’ve come up with a good idea, after all. I’ll have to run it past the chief first. Any volunteers?”

  As Hero expected, Powell raised a hand, as did Jason Coltman. “Good. All being well, I’ll see if we can set something up in the next day or two. Anyone else got any suggestions in which way the case should be heading?”

  Foxy pointed at the board. “What’s that about vehicles being burned, sir?”

  “Ah, yes. Wheeler just informed me that there was an incident last night regarding some vehicles being torched. That’s all I have so far. Can you see what you can dig up for me, Foxy?”

  “I’ll get on it right away.”

  Hero clapped his hands together and shooed them back to their desks. “I’ll go and bend the chief’s ear while you lot get on with the tasks I’ve set you.”

  Hero rang the DCI to see if it was convenient for a chat and went to get the all-clear in person. He returned ten minutes later, feeling relieved and jubilant at obtaining the authority to put in an overtime bill at the end of the week. The chief had reluctantly agreed to only one night and had issued the words “use it wisely.” As if I would do anything else?

  By the end of the day, he was mentally exhausted. The results from the fire enquiry were inconclusive. The reports suggested that some of the homeowners were livid that their vehicles had been vandalised, but Hero found it strange that no one was willing to tell the police what they’d seen. Someone had obviously seen something that night. Hero was certain the Krull Gang was involved. Exactly what have they threatened these people with?

  Before the end of his shift, Hero arranged for Powell and Coltman to stake out one of the prostitute patches. He’d gambled on one of the areas that the woman hadn’t hit yet. There was little else left for him to do but go home and be with his family. He had to fight the temptation to stop off at the pub on his way home. However, the warm welcome he received from his son and the dog and the early night he and Fay enjoyed more than made up for his abstention.

  • • •

  The moped trundled down the road at less than ten miles per hour, then stopped close to a corner. The driver got off the bike and crept to the edge of the two-storey building. She could see four street girls seemingly twiddling their thumbs, waiting for another punter’s car to pull up. Two of the girls had a cat fight as they ran to an approaching vehicle, much to the punter’s amusement. The woman watching tutted her disapproval at the scene and shook her head. When she checked up the road, she spotted a parked vehicle with what appeared to be two men inside it. Her attention remained on the vehicle rather than the prostitutes for the next five minutes or so, until she came to the startling conclusion that the vehicle contained coppers. Then she returned to her bike and drove away.

  Are they on to me? Or were the cops staking out the girls for another reason altogether? As she drove, all she could think about was how close she had come to messing up. She had intended to kill another prostitute that evening. If she hadn’t noticed the coppers’ vehicle, she feared they would have caught her in the act. Then what would I have done? That’s it, I have to change things. But how?

  The minute she got home, she went straight up to her bedroom, where she carried out most of her thinking, and plotted her next move. Now, what can I do to get the gang members alone? She smiled a smile that even she considered evil when she saw her reflection in the mirror as a fresh, more intense plan gathered momentum and slotted into perfect place in her mind. For the first time in ages, she fell asleep without any effort that night. Maybe her late-night hunting visits had finally taken their toll on her already weary body.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Hero kissed Fay hard on the lips before he set off for work. Everything in his world seemed rosy, at least on the home front. Before he got in the car, he noticed the birds singing their morning chorus. He wondered if he had ever noticed that in the past, and he doubted it. On the journey to work, he took in the first signs of summer—the rose bushes with their freshly formed buds gently bending in the breeze—and he sighed deeply. Could life get much better than this? He responded to his own question when he came back down to earth with a bump. Yes, Hero, you could solve a few of these crimes today!

  His team had their heads down at their desks when he arrived. He shouted at Powell and Coltman to join him in his office and grabbed a coffee at the vending machine on the way.

  “Well, how did it go, boys?”

  Both men had large bags under their eyes from pulling the all-nighter. Powell folded his arms and leaned against the wall. “Not good, sir. Nothing really to report other than the girls picked up plenty of punters. Christ, I had no idea how many men still use prostitutes.”

  Hero couldn’t fathom what Powell was getting at. “Meaning what?”

  Powell straightened up and dropped his arms to his sides. His awkwardness was evident in his demeanour. “Umm…well…I guess I meant with girls being so easy nowadays, sir.”

  Hero’s eyebrows rose. The man had a point if Hero were to judge by what he’d witnessed down at the pub lately. Nonetheless, he still didn’t think a member
of his team should be voicing such opinions openly. “Maybe you should keep opinions like that under wraps in the future, Powell. We don’t like it when the general public tar all coppers the same, do we?”

  “Sorry, sir.”

  “So, you had a wasted evening, then?” Hero asked, disappointed.

  “Boring isn’t the word for what we had to endure last night, sir.” Coltman stifled a yawn.

  “All right. Go home, and get some rest. Come in after lunch if you feel up to it.”

  Powell glanced at Coltman. “We’ll be back in by two, won’t we?”

  Coltman’s face dropped, but he nodded all the same.

  Hero chuckled as the two men left his office, bickering like schoolboys. He dealt with the new post that had landed on his desk that morning then went out to the incident room and walked up to the whiteboard.

  “Everything all right, sir?” Julie called across the room.

  “Yep, just thinking. Hey, wait a minute…Foxy, your old man is part of vice, isn’t he?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Did you manage to ask him about the Krull Gang?”

  “I did. He couldn’t really tell us more than we already know. They’ve just been flagged up as being new pimps in the area. There’s some form of undercover operation going on, but he told me that the unit weren’t able to throw the necessary funds behind it at the moment. They’re a bit like us in that regard, sir, having to pick and choose their cases carefully.”

  “Right. This is what we’re going to do this morning. I want us all to concentrate on the gangs in the area for now. For all we know, this woman could actually be a gang member. I want a list of the known gangs operating within, say, a two-mile radius of the centre of Manchester. What was the name of the gang that torched bloke belonged to?”

  Julie looked through the papers on her desk. “The Tidy Gang, of all things.”

  “Right. Well, if we’re looking at a turf war situation here, we need to know what gangs have just been formed, maybe throwing their weight around. If we figure that out, it might just break something in the case. Have you girls got any other suggestions?”