Brutal Pursuit

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Brutal Pursuit Page 8

by Diane M Dickson


  But what if they made her go back? What if they made her show them the caravan and the house? Then everyone would know it was her. Maybe the way they were being kept wasn’t illegal here in this country. She had no rights, she’d been told that. They couldn’t go to the police or complain to anyone at the factory because they had no rights. They had signed a contract with the agency back at home, handing over all responsibility, and that was all they had.

  Now they must do as they were told and work to pay for their expenses and only then would applications be made for their documents. Only after that would they be legal. As time had gone on, she had seen this for the lie that it was. By that time, it was too late to do anything about it. She was involved with all the others, and their fates were entangled. Now, bundled into a blue van and taken to the police station, she was frightened into total silence. She didn’t know who it would be safe to speak to, and there was no one to help her. They were polite, they didn’t beat her or strip her, as she thought they might. They left her alone in a small, bare room with a table, three chairs, some electrical equipment against the wall, and with a cup of tea in a plastic cup in front of her. The door was locked, and she was alone except for a silent young man in uniform who seemed embarrassed to look at her.

  Chapter 26

  Steven Traynor had been shown into an interview room; they kept him waiting, winding up the tension.

  “What the hell is this about now? Why have I been brought down here?”

  He was angry… she wanted him angry. Angry people spoke carelessly.

  “Mr Traynor.” Tanya placed a thin file folder on the table in front of her. “You’re free to leave at any time, you do understand that?”

  He glared at her. “I’ve answered your questions. I have nothing to do with that body. I was as shocked as everyone else about all that. What the hell.” He stopped and began gnawing at the skin around his thumbnail.

  Tanya flicked open the file. The crime scene images were horrible. If she showed him, then he would have them imprinted forever in his mind. On the other hand, if he was guilty of anything to do with the murder, then he may already have a good idea of what the inside of the hut had looked like. She shifted the folder in front of her, spun it on the table top and laid two separate images side by side.

  He glanced at them briefly, gave a strangled gasp, covered his mouth with his hand and screwed his eyes tightly shut. “Shit, what the hell. Put it away, Christ.” He opened his eyes now but turned his head so that he didn’t have to look at the pictures.

  Tanya slid the papers together, flipped the cover closed and laid a hand on top of the file.

  “I didn’t need to see that. Bloody hell. That’s enough. I’m leaving. I’m going to the papers about this. You’ve no right. No right to do that,” he snarled.

  “I’m sorry, Mr Traynor., I know the images are distressing – they are distressing for all of us. I would like you to have a look. It’s possible you might recognise something, the build of our victim for example. Could you just have a look?”

  He pushed his chair away from the table. It tipped and clattered backwards onto the tiled floor. The constable standing near the door stepped forward. Tanya held up her hand.

  “No, I won’t bloody look at it. What are you playing at?”

  “We’re in the middle of a serious enquiry. I would have thought you’d want to help, want to do anything that helps to move things along.”

  “Of course I bloody do, but no, not that. I don’t want to see, that.” He pointed a quivering finger towards the table. “I can’t be asked to look at that.”

  “Okay.” She pulled the file closer.

  Sue Rollinson picked up the chair and stood beside it while he lowered himself back to the seat.

  “I apologise if you found that distressing. Perhaps you could just go over some details for us. Do you want a drink, a glass of water?”

  He shook his head but pulled the chair nearer to the table. Now that she had covered the images, she had brought him over to her side. Taking away the cause of upset made him feel that she had done him a favour. He was breathing more steadily. He had calmed down and leaned a little towards her.

  Again, they went over the staffing of the club and the events of the week leading up to the discovery. All things they already knew but done on the off chance he had remembered something else or in case they could pick up on anomalies or contradictions. She assured him that they were re-visiting all the witnesses. He would know that anyway because she was sure, though the course itself was off limits, the bar and clubhouse were not, and gossip would be rife.

  After another half an hour she stood and held out her hand. “Well thanks so much for coming in, Mr Traynor. I’m sorry for the inconvenience and really do apologise for the unpleasantness.”

  He touched her outstretched fingers briefly. “Well, I hope that’s the end of it.”

  “I wish it was, but we are still working to find out just what happened, so I can’t make any promises.”

  “Oh yes, of course. Well, I realise that, don’t I? What I meant was the end of dragging me down here, asking questions and more questions about things we’ve already gone over, and that.” He pointed at the file. “I never want to see anything like that again.”

  “He seemed really rattled, didn’t he?” Sue said as they walked back up the stairs and down the corridor to the incident room. “He was completely shaken. I don’t think he had any idea.”

  “Well, either that or he’s a bloody good actor. But no, I think you’re right. They are pretty gruesome.” Tanya lifted the hand holding the folder. “If he’d seen it before I don’t think his reaction would have been quite so strong. I don’t know though, Sue. I still think there’s something off about him. It’s just a feeling.”

  Chapter 27

  Tanya stared at the printout. In the other corner of the office, she could hear the click of Brian Finch’s mouse and the occasional clatter of his keyboard. On top of everything else, the bloody man was a touch typist. He could have his reports and emails accurately finished before Tanya had put together a few paragraphs. She glanced up. Was there nothing that he wasn’t brilliant at?

  He had taken over the briefing while she had interviewed Traynor. He had followed that up by fielding an anxious call from DCI Scunthorpe who needed something to tell the Chief Constable. He had received complaints from ‘friends’ who were champing at the bit not being able to play golf. He had smoothed the ruffled feathers without committing the team to anything impossible to achieve.

  When she came back into the room, irritated and frustrated, it was to find the team at their desks and monitors, the board updated, and the DI in conversation with Dan Price, who was chatting happily, sharing a laugh, something she had rarely seen from the shy and diffident detective constable. He obviously had a knack with people, on top of everything else.

  “Have you seen this, Brian?” She waved the A4 sheet at him.

  “Yes, I’ve got it here on my tablet. She was pretty.”

  “Hmm.” Tanya looked at the dark-haired woman. They had given her brown eyes, in keeping with the tone of her skin and hair. But the artist stressed they could be off with that, they could have been green, hazel or even blue and there was no way to tell. When the DNA results came back, they would have a better idea. She had a heart-shaped face, a wide mouth and a small, straight nose. She was indeed pretty, and they had photoshopped her long curling hair, so different from the bedraggled rat’s tails Tanya remembered. With the sheen on her curls and the light in her eyes, she looked alive, real, and heartbreakingly hopeful staring out from the image. Had they deliberately given her face that expression? Maybe so – hoping it would make people more likely to sympathise, keener to want to help.

  “It’s going on the news bulletins, the rolling twenty-four hour and the regional. We are putting up posters, and we’ve got bods on the ground, doing door to door in the nearest houses. Not that there are that many. I don’t know, Brian. If you h
ad a head and hands in a bag you wouldn’t get rid close to home, would you?” Tanya said.

  “Probably not, no.”

  “So, are we looking at two crimes, completely separate? In which case we have to put the call out nationwide. Kate Lewis has been updating HOLMES already and looking at the posts. She’s trying for matches and we’ve got to hope for the best there. We need to find out if there is anyone with a body and no head; come to that, we need to find if there is anyone with a head, hands and no body. In reality, though, they’ve got to be related, haven’t they? I mean what are the chances of two murders, two dismembered corpses in such close proximity?”

  “Seems rather unlikely. What do you reckon about this van?” Brian said.

  Tanya shrugged. “A van, a white van. I wonder just how many thousands there are in this area alone. It could have been anything, a perfectly innocent punter lost, a courting couple looking for somewhere quiet to have sex. It could have been one of so many different things.”

  “And, yet, the number plate was obscured, it was in the right area, and it’s all we’ve got.”

  Tanya lowered her head to the desk. “You’re right. Shit. Anyway, it’s getting late. No point hanging around now. I’m going to go home and get my occurrence book in order, go through everything again, away from the phones and what have you, and look for a thread to pull. I’m going to have fingers and toes crossed that something comes of this.” She waved the picture again. “There are plenty of people manning the phones and I’ve asked the team to hang on for a while, just a couple of hours and then back in the morning early.”

  “Right, I think I’ll stick around for a while, help with the calls just in case anything interesting comes in,” Brian said.

  She stared at him for a minute. Now he’d made her feel like a slacker. She had sat up half the night going over it and over it and knew that tonight would be the same, but he made her feel that she was skiving.

  “I’ll call you straight away if there’s anything you need to know about. You look done in.”

  He’d left her no choice now but to leave him to it, if she changed her mind, she’d look flaky. Bugger the man, he was really getting under her skin.

  Chapter 28

  Cheese on toast and a glass of whisky was Tanya’s choice of comfort food. She ate the stodgy, greasy snack and enjoyed the fire in her throat from the single malt. Something would click soon; she just had to keep going.

  The house was quiet, and she remembered just how much she used to like that. However, it was strange getting used to it again. The discovery of the body, getting back to full-time work, had coincided with Serena leaving. Perhaps that was why it was hard to adjust – too many changes on top of each other.

  Surely, this was good; it was what she wanted.

  She couldn’t shake the sense of foreboding though. Finch was unsettling her, and not for the first time she wished for Charlie back. As if he knew, the mobile rang and his ID flashed onto the screen.

  “Hiya. How are you?” she said.

  “I’m good thanks, great. You?”

  They went through the preliminaries. Carol was getting better all the time and it seemed that she was emerging from the fug of post-natal depression. Joshua was trying to walk and was already talking. Tanya made the appropriate responses, but when he asked her how she was feeling, she couldn’t speak. Her throat had closed. She coughed. What the hell was that?

  “Actually, I’m fine, thanks. Busy, really pushed at work.” She gave him an outline of the cases and they tossed a few ideas around. It was good to remember what it used to be like.

  It was Charlie who changed the subject. “How’s Serena? Still driving you mad with her music? Have you sorted out college for her?”

  “Actually no. She’s gone back to her mum.”

  As she spoke, Tanya felt awkward and embarrassed, as though she had something to be ashamed of. His reaction didn’t help. Silence followed by a non-committal grunt.

  She filled the space. “It’s for the best. She needs to be with her family.”

  “Well, you’re family,” he said, “and at least you’re calmer than your dibby sister. I thought it was a good idea, her being with you for a while. Until she got over everything. I know she didn’t remember much about it, but gang rape isn’t something you’re ever going to be able to accept. It’s very early days. That’s what family is for, isn’t it? You know, helping each other.”

  “Yeah, well she’s gone.”

  He caught the tone and changed the subject, but Tanya reached out for her glass and took a big gulp of whisky.

  “So, how are the team? It must be great for you to have them all together on this new case. Well, cases as it turns out.”

  “Yeah, it’s good. Everyone’s fine. Bloody Sue is up to her old tricks though.” She winced as she spoke. Of course, it had been Charlie that Sue had set her sights on. She didn’t know how he would feel being reminded. In the event he was typical Charlie.

  “She’s a predator that one. It’s a shame because she’s got the makings of a good detective, but she’s not going to go the distance, is she? I reckon she’ll snag a man and that’ll be that – career stalled. Pity. Anyway, who is she stalking now, not Dan?” He laughed.

  “No, we’ve got a new bloke. A new DI actually.”

  “Oh right, my replacement.”

  “Ha, you know they can’t replace you, Charlie.” Tanya’s mood lifted as she heard him chuckle.

  “Well, of course not. No, come on, who is it, do I know him?”

  “Brian Finch. About your age, I guess. A bit dapper, seems pretty clued up. Computer whizz, apparently, though he hasn’t been tested on that yet. We’ve got so little to go on, there’s been nothing to compute.”

  “Ah. Finch. Tall, dark-haired, good looking.”

  “I guess.”

  “He was just behind me at Hendon,” Charlie said

  “So, did you know him at all?”

  “Not so much. He’s from a different background and he wasn’t on my course anyway. Family’s rolling in it apparently. Father’s a banker I think, mother’s something legal, a solicitor or maybe even a silk. I remember him being fast-tracked and sent off for computer courses. Oh yes, and there’s an uncle – an ACC somewhere – I think that’s why I remember him.”

  “He seems very… capable.” Tanya struggled to find the right word.

  There was a silence, she could hear him breathing. “Look, Tanya, you know what it’s like in places like the college, and I don’t know anything specific but …”

  “What?”

  “Well, just watch your back, you know.”

  “Charlie, come on. You can’t say that and leave me hanging. What the hell do you mean?”

  “No, I won’t repeat rumours and gossip, anyway people change, mature and what have you. But you’re my mate so, well as I say, just watch your back. Look, I need to go, Carol’s out and the baby’s crying. I’ll ring again soon. You should come up and see us. I think you’d like Liverpool, it’s buzzin’.”

  “Just before you go though, Charlie. I wonder if you could do me a favour?”

  “Course I will. If I can.”

  “It’s just you mentioning Liverpool. Can you have a root around, see if there is any mention of a bloke called – hang on – ah! Mulholland, first name Jamie? See if anyone recognises the name or whatever. I think he’s from up there. Young, probably about late twenties, dark blonde hair, fit; not sure I can tell you much more. Hm… it’s not much, is it? That’s what this bloody case is like.”

  “What are you looking for?”

  “Well, nothing specific, it’s just that it was mentioned he was from up there. He works at the golf club, you know, where we found the first body. I don’t feel happy about the manager and… well, just ‘no tern unstoned’ as they say.”

  She heard him laugh again. “Yeah, okay got that – I’ll let you know. Take care, Tanya.”

  “And you, Charlie. Say hi to Carol. I’m glad she’s
getting better.” And he was gone, the night was quieter and the strange feeling of something like loneliness deeper. She shook her head, logged out of the computer and went to bed.

  Chapter 29

  Ana wouldn’t speak; not at all. When the PCSO couldn’t make any progress, they brought in a more experienced female officer to talk quietly and gently; then a young man, and then an older man who they thought might seem a father figure. Nobody could break through the barrier. They told her there was no need to be afraid, tried several different languages; dredged the whole of the station for anyone who could put a sentence together in anything other than English. But she said not a word. She cried, constantly and silently, dabbing at her face with a succession of crumpled tissues. She shook her head, but she did not speak.

  In the end they had no option but to take her to the cells which meant they had to go through the whole routine, take DNA samples, fingerprints and photographs.

  “It’s bloody ridiculous,” the custody sergeant grumbled, “it’s an ancient old phone, it makes no sense.”

  “I know, but the old biddy’s got stitches in her head and is suffering from shock. They’re keeping her in for observation,” the PCSO told him. “Well, she is knocking on a bit and you can’t be too careful. From what I’ve gathered, it wasn’t much more than a bit of a push and shove resulting in an accident, but she wants to make a fuss. Says she can’t remember any of the conversation because she was so frightened. She’s old so it’s not that surprising but she has confirmed the girl’s a foreigner. Said that she wanted to ring home and it was one of those countries with a funny name, Arab she thought. She said that she had nothing against foreigners but maybe they’d be happier if they went home. No prejudice there then. I think the old woman is enjoying the attention. This poor girl seems more upset.”

 

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