Torn Apart

by M A Comley

  The leader held his gaze for a split second, then dropped his arm to let them pass. They left the house and jumped in the car, and neither of them spoke until they were a couple of roads away and out of harm’s way.

  “Can you pull over?”

  Hero stopped the car, and Julie’s car door shot open. She thrust her head out and vomited in the road. He handed her a tissue to wipe her mouth after she’d closed her door again. “Bloody hell! I’ve never been so scared in my entire life.” Julie ran a trembling hand through her hair.

  “Too bloody right. I thought we handled it rather well, don’t you?”

  “I have to admit, you called his bluff well, come the end, sir.”

  Hero had to admit that this encounter with the gang had gone his way for a change, but he doubted if their next meeting would go as smoothly. Maybe the Krull Gang’s guard was down after learning about Barrett’s death.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  During the trip back to the station, Hero decided that the time had come to start rounding up the other gang leaders in the area for questioning.

  He gathered the team around the minute they got back to the incident room. “Listen up, guys. It’s about time we started digging deeper into this gang-rivalry lark. Foxy, let me have the list of gangs we pulled up the other day, will you? Any luck with the CCTV footage from last night, by the way?”

  Shaking her head, Foxy searched for, then handed him a file from the pile on her desk. “No good on the footage. Most of the cameras in that area were broke. Was that intentional? I’m not sure yet. I’m looking into it further.”

  “Bugger, I was kind of relying on that to verify what we suspected already. I’m still keen to go down the gang territory route. Let’s start pulling these guys in. Leave the Krull Gang. Julie and I have already had a word with them this morning. They were cagey about what Barrett was up to last night. The leader told us he was working but refused to say what he was actually doing. I’m really not sure what else we can do at the moment, except interview the other gang leaders. Start rounding them up and pull them in. Someone might crack and shed light on who this damn girl is. She’s the key to all this, the prostitute murders plus Jez Barrett’s murder.” Hero walked over to study his notes on the board. He picked up the pen and added Jez Barrett’s name to the list of victims. “Who is she? And why the bloody hell is she proving to be so elusive?”

  Powell cleared his throat. “How do you want us to go about this, sir?”

  “Care to clarify that, Powell?”

  “What I meant was, do you want the gang members in here at the same time, staggered interviews, or what? Also, can we ask uniform to help us pull these guys in? My thinking is that if we split up, we’re going to be spread too thin. We’ll need backup to bring them in for questioning. I doubt they’re going to come peacefully.”

  “Good point. I’ll organise it with the desk sergeant right away. Now, how many people are we talking about here?” It was a rhetorical question, and he flicked through the file. Three other gangs competed for control of the area. He instructed Powell, Foxy, and Coltman to tackle the lesser gang leaders and told the team that he and Julie would deal with the leader of the Tidy Gang.

  “We’ll pull them in together. Reception might not like it, but tough. While questioning the gangs, don’t come right out and ask about this girl. Do it craftily. Use the information Foxy has collated about each gang and try and get out of them the lengths they would go to in order to gain territory. I doubt they’ll come out and say what their intentions are, but gauge the interview. Tease and prod the information out of them. Under no circumstances mention this girl. See if they do. Have you got that?”

  “Yes, sir,” the team responded as one.

  “Any problems, or if anything piques your interest that you think I should know about, contact me immediately, okay? Right, let’s get this show on the road.”

  In his office, the phone rang, and he sprinted into the room to answer it. “DI Nelson. How can I help?”

  “Have you caught my wife’s murderers yet?”

  That was an opening line he hadn’t been expecting. He recognised the man’s voice, but didn’t let on.

  “I’m sorry, to whom am I speaking?”

  “Oh, come on, Inspector, we both know you’re not stupid,” the man responded with a slur.

  Hero checked his watch. Rupert Hartley was already drunk at half-past eleven in the morning.

  “Mr. Hartley, I was going to ring you today with an update.”

  “Sure you were,” Rupert replied tersely.

  “It happens to be the truth. Thanks for saving me the trouble. We’re still no further forward with the case, I’m afraid.”

  “That’s unbelievable. It’s been almost two weeks now. If I have to take it to your superiors, Nelson, I will do.”

  In some ways, Hero was hoping he would carry out his threat. It might give him the go-ahead to pick up the gang with an armed response team in tow. On the other hand, it would also give his superiors ammunition to fire him for not being able to bring the family’s known killers to justice.

  “As it happens, my team are starting to interview suspects today.” It was a half-truth, but Hartley didn’t need to know that.

  “Oh, how convenient, Inspector. In that case, I better let you get on with your interrogations,” Hartley slurred before he rudely hung up.

  Hero looked down at the phone and muttered, “You better had.”

  Before leaving his office, he decided to give Dave Wheeler a call. “Wheeler? It’s DI Nelson.”

  “Ah, the Inspector calls. With good news, I hope?”

  “Not exactly. More for tapping you up about any news you might have heard on the grapevine.”

  “About anything in particular?”

  “Anything that has happened in the last twenty-four hours.”

  “You’re talking in riddles, Inspector. Give me a hint on subject matter, and I’ll give you an honest answer.”

  Hero drew in a breath and let it out slowly. “Another murder perhaps.”

  “Another prostitute murder?”

  The journalist seemed surprised by the revelation, which helped to put one of Hero’s other theories to bed. He’d suspected Wheeler had carried out a revenge attack on behalf of Hartley. But if he didn’t know about Jez Barrett, he couldn’t be the murderer. Unless he’s pretending to be confused.

  “Nope. One of the Krull Gang was murdered last night.”

  Wheeler was silent on his end of the phone line for a second or two before he let out a long, low whistle. “You’re pulling my leg, aren’t you?”

  Hero frowned. “Why on earth would I do that, Wheeler?”

  “Never mind. How did it happen? And no, I haven’t heard anything from my snitches about this. I’m surprised about that as much as you.”

  “He was stabbed, close to the estate.”

  “Well someone had guts, to cut him down on his own doorstep like that. Any evidence left at the scene, DNA maybe?”

  “Nope. You wouldn’t be fooling with me, would you, Wheeler?”

  “I’m not sure I understand what you’re getting at.”

  “I’m talking about what my partner and I overheard you and Rupert Hartley talking about at the funeral. Some kind of revenge scenario.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, man. You heard nothing of the sort. I’m sure if you turned up at any funeral of a murder victim, you’d hear the same kind of conversation time and time again. It doesn’t mean we’d act upon it.” Wheeler sounded genuine enough, almost offended, in his retort.

  Appeased, Hero said, “I’m sorry. You understand my asking the question, don’t you?”

  “I suppose so. But please be assured that I am not in the business of vigilantism, although I can quite understand why people do it. Have you been in touch with Rupert lately?”

  “As it happens, he just rang me. He was, um, how shall I say this, a little worse for wear, perhaps.”

  “What? He was drunk? A
t this time of the morning? Damn, I better call round there later to show him some support. I’ve been neglecting him, pressure of work and all that.”

  “Thanks. I’ve got a busy day ahead. Otherwise, I would have called around to see him myself. I better get on, witnesses to question, et cetera.”

  “I’ll get in touch if I hear anything, although you never know, someone might be doing your job for you and knocking the gang off one by one.”

  A thoughtful Hero hung up the phone and glanced out the window at the Manchester skyline. Maybe Wheeler is right. Normally, when a civilian in a group was targeted, his task would be the safety of the rest of that group. So why not now? What’s making me hesitate? The fact that the gang was the absolute pits caused him to rethink constantly. He could just imagine the outcry if news ever got out into the public domain that he was protecting the gang. He couldn’t have that. They were tough enough and ugly enough to look after themselves, and maybe getting a piece of their own medicine for a change would put a stop to them setting out to make other people’s lives miserable.

  He shook his head, disagreeing with his inner voice, and mumbled as he stood up to leave his office, “Yeah, and that’s a pig with wings just passing the window.” He stepped back into the incident room. “Where are we at? Have you got all the names and addresses sorted out? Everyone know who they’re bringing in?”

  His team nodded and showed him their thumbs after each question.

  “Okay, people, let’s haul their arses in. Don’t forget—don’t mention the girl. If either one of them mentions her, let me know immediately.”

  Chairs scraped as the team stood up to put on their coats. Hero scanned their faces. Most of them were painted with a reluctant determination that made him proud of his team. “Come on, Julie, let’s go and pick up Trevor…what was his surname again?”

  She hitched her handbag strap over her shoulder and shook her head at him. “Munroe, sir. I hope you’re going to take that metal bar with you. I think we’re going to need it.”

  “Oh, ye of little faith. It’s the Tidy Gang we’re dealing with this time, not the Krull Gang.”

  Julie turned her back on him and headed out of the incident room. Under her breath, she replied, “Yeah, it’s the second notoriously nasty gang in Manchester we’re dealing with, not the first, this time. That’s all right, then.”

  Hero caught some of what she prattled and smiled as he followed her out of the room. She wouldn’t be Julie if she weren’t complaining about something.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  When they arrived at the Tidy Gang’s hangout—the estate they ruled, at least—Hero and Julie found Trevor Munroe sitting alone, looking subdued, on one of the kids’ swings. He didn’t seem to hear Hero and Julie approach.

  “Trevor Munroe?”

  The man, who was in his early twenties, glanced up at them, shielding his eyes against the ray of sunlight angled at his face. “Who wants to know?” It was a far gentler enquiry than they’d been expecting from him.

  Hero had a feeling the task they had been dreading on the journey over was going to be far easier than either of them had anticipated.

  Hero flashed his warrant card then put it back in his jacket pocket. “DI Nelson and DS Shaw. We’d like to ask you a few questions down at the station.”

  “About what happened the other day to little Ken?”

  Is that why he appears subdued? Because of his mate being torched? Or is his mood something to do with Jez Barrett’s murder? Hero had an inkling that the man’s demeanour was to do with the former scenario rather than the latter.

  Munroe scratched his shaven head and moved down to the stubble on his chin in thought before he stood up and followed them to Hero’s car. Julie held the back door open for the young man, and he got in.

  As he drove back to the station, Hero constantly checked on Munroe in his rear-view mirror. Something about the man’s mood told him not to expect much when they got back to the interview room.

  The desk sergeant acknowledged them when they arrived and pointed at Interview Room Two when Hero asked which room had been assigned to them.

  “This is being noted down as an informal chat,” Hero told Munroe. “You can have a solicitor present if you want one.”

  “I don’t think that’s necessary. Do you?”

  “Then let’s get started.”

  “All right if I tape the conversation?” Hero asked.

  “No problem with me.”

  “Mr. Munroe,” Hero began after he’d given the tape the usual information of who was attending the interview, the date, time, et cetera. “Is it right that you are recognised as being the leader of the Tidy Gang?”

  Munroe nodded.

  “Sorry, for the tape’s benefit, a nod isn’t sufficient. Please answer the question.”

  “Yes, I’m the gang’s leader.”

  “And your rivals are the Krull Gang. Is that correct?”

  Munroe nodded before he realised his mistake. “Yeah, that’s right.” His lip turned up as he spoke.

  “Maybe you can tell us how long this turf war has been going on between the two gangs?”

  “Like forever.”

  “Is it true to say that things have escalated recently?”

  “Yeah, on their part, anyway.” He shook his head sorrowfully.

  “I take it you’re referring to the incident which occurred last week, the one where one of your gang members unfortunately lost his life.”

  “Little Ken did nothing to no one. Yeah, he had a big mouth on him, but you show me a little guy who doesn’t try to make up for his size. Every small guy I know has got a bigger mouth than the rest of us. He didn’t ask for that, though. They fuckin’ torched him. They’re sickos. That’s what they are.”

  Hero nodded, “They are. This rivalry you have, if something like that happened to one of my friends, I’d want some kind of revenge. Is that what last night was about?”

  Munroe’s gaze met his, and Hero could see by the confusion that settled in the other man’s eyes that he didn’t have a clue what he was talking about.

  “What?”

  “Unfortunately, one of the Krull Gang members was killed last night. Do you happen to know anything about that?”

  “Good, I hope he suffered as much as Ken did, but I know nothin’ about it. I swear I don’t.”

  “Okay, what about these prostitutes who have been murdered over the last couple of weeks? What do you know about them?” Hero asked.

  Munroe shook his head. “Nothin’. I wouldn’t put it past the Krulls to be killing off their own girls, you know, to get others in trouble like.”

  Hero’s eyes creased up as he pondered the idea. Would they really do that? Wasn’t that cutting their own noses off? “I can’t see that happening. They’d lose money from the girls.”

  Munroe shrugged. “I say it’s possible. They’re sick shits, and girls these days are easy to pick up and turn into hookers, once you get ’em hooked on drugs.”

  “Thanks for that insight. Do you run any girls?”

  “Nah, not worth the aggro. To be honest, after what happened to Ken, I’m pulling back a bit.”

  “Really? You’re thinking of going straight?”

  “Yeah, that’s right. The fun has gone out of it since those fuckers arrived on the scene. No one stands a chance against the likes of them. They’re insane, man. I bet if you asked the other gang leaders in the area, they’d say the same thing.”

  “That’s what we intend to do. Congratulations if you do give up the gang. It’s going to make our lives much easier.”

  Munroe snorted. “Yeah, but there’ll always be some sickos, like the Krulls, startin’ up, thinkin’ they can rule the town. Is that it? I’d like to get on with the rest of my life now, if that’s all right with you?”

  “Yep, that’s it. It was just an informal chat. I’m sorry about Ken. We’re doing all we can to stop the Krull Gang. Look, if you need any help getting back into the swing of norma
l life, we’ve got people who can help you.” Hero handed him one of his cards. “Give me a call, and I’ll put you in touch with them.”

  Munroe stood up, picked up the card off the desk, and shoved it in his pocket. “Thanks, I doubt I’ll be needing it, though. My brother’s got a building firm. He said if I’m willing to put in the hours and some hard work, he’s willing to show me the ropes.”

  “That’s great. Good luck with that.”

  The three of them made their way out of the interview room. In the waiting area, a few of the other gang leaders had gathered. Hero cringed, expecting things to kick off, and was very surprised when each of them simply acknowledged the other with a wary glance. Hero showed Munroe out to the car park. “Need a lift back to the estate?”

  “Nah, my brother’s working on a house not far from here. Think I’ll surprise him, see what’s goin’ on.”

  “You take care, Trevor, and for what it’s worth, I think you’ve made the right decision.”

  He watched Trevor Munroe walk away, wondering if the man would live up to his word. He had a feeling he would.

  Hero joined the rest of the team, and they compared notes on what the gang leaders had divulged during the informal interviews. The grand total amounted to a big fat zero. No one had even mentioned the girl whom they suspected of murdering the prostitutes. All the leaders said the same thing—the Krull Gang was in a league of its own. All the heinous crimes committed in the Manchester area could invariably be attributed to Paul “Crabbie” Crabtree and his gang. So who killed Jez Barrett?

  • • •

  The Audi drew up alongside Trevor Munroe as he neared the gates of the playground on his estate. Even before he glanced out of the corner of his eye, he knew whom the car belonged to. He carried on walking, ignoring the noise of the car door being slammed and the footsteps coming up behind him. He didn’t need long to work out that his fate lay in the hands of others.

  “Oy, tosser! Don’t fuckin’ walk away from me.”

  Munroe bowed his head, watching one foot step in front of the other, in a kind of daze until an arm grabbed his and yanked him around to face his aggressor.