by Rachel Lynch
‘Your friend the detective should be here soon, little one, and then I think I’ll let my charge here have his fun.’ Marko thought about the detective.
He didn’t care about her fancy badge. It was just a title. People in this country went crazy over the death of a police officer, but to Marko, it didn’t make any sense. Anything that happened to them, they brought on themselves. For him, harming a law enforcement officer was a treat. A rare treat. He left to go and find Teresa. Gabriela’s head slumped to her knees.
Upstairs, Teresa paced up and down.
‘I disagree, Marko,’ she said. ‘If they catch us, it’ll be life, no question. I won’t have anything to do with it.’
‘You’ll do as you’re told, Teresa. This is your fault, remember, hiring that cool drink of water downstairs in the first place.’ Marko was angry and needed to vent.
‘Bullshit! This is about that worthless piece of shit you hired to tidy things up. Beckett forgot about a body! I won’t have anything to do with it. I’m out of here.’ She went to make her way to the door, but Marko blocked her.
‘Sit down, Teresa.’ He stood over her and her eye twitched.
‘I never signed up for kidnap,’ she said. ‘What’s going to be next?’
‘What did you think we’d do with her? Give her cake? Besides, you led us right to her, so you’re involved whether you like it or not. Sit down,’ he repeated.
‘Let me go,’ she said firmly, and tried to go around him again. The back of his hand struck her on the cheek and the force of it knocked her sideways. She fell with a thud and Marko stood over her with his hands on his hips. He opened the door and shouted for Curtis to come up.
‘Take her to the other room,’ he ordered. ‘Watch her like a hawk and don’t let her leave.’
Curtis didn’t hesitate. He picked the woman up by the arm and dragged her out. She tried to fight back, but he was far too strong for her to have any effect whatsoever. He bent her arm around her back so forcefully that she squealed. She shot Marko a look of hate and they stared at one another until she was out of sight. Marko went back downstairs, checked on the girl and beckoned Sasha into another room.
‘Folkestone?’ asked Marko.
‘Done,’ replied his son.
‘Penrith?’
‘Done.’
‘Ullswater?’
‘Done.’
‘Rydal Water?’
‘Done.’
‘Good. What about Crawley?’
‘He was taken into custody this afternoon. They’ve charged the old bastard but apparently he’ll be dead in a week anyway, so he shouldn’t talk. The cops got Workington and a few others.’
Marko nodded. ‘There are too many loose ends,’ he said. ‘We have to leave.’
He stared out of the window while his son waited for his next instruction.
‘We can’t stay together, Sasha. And you shouldn’t take anyone else. Understand?’
‘Yes, Papa. Where will you go?’ The port in Workington was too risky now, but there were other options.
‘I don’t know yet. You know what to do, and where the money is, right?’ Marko said. He looked suddenly older.
Sasha nodded. ‘Let’s just leave now,’ he pleaded. ‘We could be out of here in twelve hours.’
‘No. I can’t. I won’t walk away until I’m satisfied. But you must go, Sasha.’
‘Yes, Papa.’
The two men embraced.
* * *
Sasha walked outside and got into his car. He didn’t look back. In the boot was a bag full of personal items and the keys to safety deposit boxes in and around the Manchester area. By the time he’d emptied them, he’d be a very rich man. He knew his father wouldn’t make it. He was too stubborn. They couldn’t both get away, and Marko had chosen to save his son.
He pulled away from the cottage and drove to the end of the gravel driveway. The local radio news was appealing for information on a Mrs Teresa Joliffe, who was thought to be associated with the haulage company trafficking people from Europe.
Sasha smiled. He knew that every trail led to Teresa; they’d made sure of it. Even Tomb Day. At four p.m. he’d call the police like his father had told him and give them the address. That gave Marko six hours to decide what to do with her. He also had the number for the detective.
Chapter 52
At the end of another long day, Kelly drove back to Penrith. She’d had to let Johnny down again, but he’d understood when she told him that she was at a crucial point in the case. Johnny had hinted in their short time together that being away for months on end serving his country and disappearing with only twelve hours’ notice was what had ended his marriage. He didn’t want her feeling stifled. Kelly smiled; there was nothing she’d like more than to hide under his duvet for the next twenty four hours. She hung up and took a call from her mother.
‘Kelly, what’s going on with the Crawleys? What have you done?’
‘What, Mum?’ She didn’t know how much her mother had heard.
‘Nikki told me. Katy is inconsolable. Did you know that Barry is gravely ill?’
‘Mum, hang on. What are you talking about?’
‘Nikki told me that you’ve got Dave and his dad in trouble. I hope it’s not true. Pat Crawley is a lovely woman.’
‘What else did Nikki tell you?’
‘That the police dragged poor Barry off his deathbed and Dave has been arrested. Why would you do something like that, Kelly? Is Nikki right? You’ve done it because Dave didn’t marry you?’
‘Oh Christ, Mum! How could you believe such bullshit? You were married to the force for Christ’s sake!’
‘Don’t swear at me!’
‘I’m not swearing at you! Nikki is full of shit. The Crawleys are in trouble for good reason. Reasons I can’t go into. I’m a policewoman, you know that. Didn’t Dad ever piss anyone off?’
‘You must have got it all wrong. I can’t imagine what Pat is going through.’
‘Her husband should have thought of that,’ Kelly muttered.
‘What?’
‘Sorry, Mum, I need to go.’
She hung up and took the waiting call. This one was from Ambleside police. A distraught guest at the Troutbeck Guest House had discovered the male receptionist locked inside the office, dazed and bloodied. Initial enquiries had elicited that Mrs Teresa Joliffe and two unknown males were responsible.
So now the woman was wanted for assault. What are you up to, Teresa Joliffe? Kelly asked herself.
‘Do you have descriptions of the two males?’
‘Yes, guv.’ One matched the details they had for Marko Popovic.
Kelly was almost at Penny Bridge, so instead of carrying on to the M6, she turned onto the A5092, north to Ambleside. She had nothing to go home for and she certainly didn’t want to see her mother. Her last conversation made her want to stay the night at Johnny’s even more. On the way, she called Eden House for an update. She’d checked her iPad several times and kept up to date with inputs, but nothing beat real-time. They had a steady stream of charged suspects coming in all over the Lakes, and she was pushing everyone to dig deep until they found the pin holding everything together.
‘What’s the progress on the paperwork, Will?’ she asked.
‘Guv. We’ve traced the money to an umbrella company in Jersey.’
‘Jersey?’
‘Yes, guv. There’s several offshore accounts paying three owners of Tomb Day via the Isle of Man. We’re still fitting everything together, but this accountant we’re using is a machine. I don’t understand the links, but he’s working on the exact routes. Incidentally, the numbers in Colin Day’s office were bank accounts. Christine Day is a signatory on all of them.’
Kelly had the best people she could get in cyber-crime working on the two laptops – Colin Day’s and his son’s – but so far they had failed to get into the closed files on either.
‘I’m stopping off in Ambleside, Will. Mrs Joliffe had her receptionist b
eaten up and she’s gone AWOL, but I’ll be back around six.’
The information surged around Kelly’s head and she felt overwhelmed. One step at a time, she told herself. She had more questions than answers, and one of them was why Christine Day had so willingly handed over all the information in her husband’s office if she was herself involved. The only explanation she could come up with was that the woman was genuinely livid that he’d been caught with a prostitute, as well as pilfering her mother’s ring. Hatred could affect judgement and even override self-preservation. Maybe she hadn’t expected Kelly to get the bottom of it all and was regretting her impulsiveness now.
Kelly parked outside the guest house and found two uniforms inside reception. George had already been taken to hospital. The hotel seemed to be operating normally, but the guests Kelly saw looked worried and uncomfortable. As well they might. A few local journalists had got hold of the story and had to be prevented by the uniforms from harassing guests. A few customers were demanding their money back at reception, and the girl behind the counter looked as though she had absolutely no idea what she was doing.
Kelly flashed her badge and climbed the stairs to the third floor. Gabriela’s door was open, but there was no one inside. She looked around. Next to the door there was a small chest of drawers, and beside it, on the floor, was an overturned glass, liquid staining the floor around it. Gabriela’s room was otherwise spotlessly clean and tidy. She wouldn’t leave a glass on the floor like that. Kelly ran down the three flights of stairs and pushed breathlessly to the front of the reception desk queue.
‘Gabriela, where is she?’
The girl looked overwrought; her day was going from bad to worse. ‘She left with Mrs Joliffe.’
‘What?’ Kelly slammed her hand down on the desk and the reception area fell quiet. ‘Did you see her leave?’
‘Yes.’
‘Was anyone else with them?’
‘Two men.’
‘Oh Jesus.’ Kelly ran out and leapt into her car, calling ahead to get Phillips to put out a description of Gabriela to all units. ‘Her name is Gabriela Kaminski, she’s a Polish national and she’s nineteen years old. It’s time to release details of Mrs Teresa Joliffe too. Put it in the PNC.’
‘Yes, guv.’
‘I want the Troutbeck Guest House closed. There are two uniforms there on their own; they’ll need help. There are a few journos hanging around too.’
‘Yes, guv.’
A previous background check on Teresa Joliffe had revealed that she was the owner of three cars and four hotels, but no address and no record had showed up. They did however have a photo: it was from an article published in the Westmorland Gazette two weeks before Colin Day’s death, a promo piece for the local secondary school, where Teresa Joliffe had spoken to the students about woman in business. It was a good photo, and Kelly would make sure it made the evening news.
Chapter 53
Kelly took a deep breath.
On the other side of the interview room door, Dave Crawley was sitting waiting.
She could have run it past her DCI. She knew that he would have allowed her to step aside; to get someone else to interview him, but she wanted to look him in the eye and ask him why.
She took a deep breath.
‘You all right, guv?’ DS Umshaw asked.
‘I went to school with him.’ It was only slightly bending the truth.
‘Do you want me to do it? I’ve plenty of experience.’
‘I know you do, Kate. I absolutely know you could nail this, but the fact that I know him makes me want to do it more.’
Umshaw nodded.
They went in. Dave shuffled in his seat.
‘David Crawley, for the record, my name is Detective Inspector Kelly Porter, and—’
‘I know who you are.’
He caught Kelly off guard. His voice was different, as were his eyes.
‘As I said, for the record, I am Detective Inspector Kelly Porter, and I am with Detective Sergeant Kate Umshaw. We will be conducting the interview of David Barry Crawley today, the twenty-ninth of September 2017. David Barry Crawley, of number five, Mosedale Mews, Penrith, can you confirm your date of birth?’
Kelly had started laboriously on purpose. She wanted to disarm him, she wanted to settle her own nerves, and she wanted to make him think that she was amateurish. Now she knew why he’d never liked her being a copper. She wondered what he really thought of her father.
‘Do you know why you are here, David?’ She had to keep this formal.
‘I guess it’s about those two lorries that were stopped. I had no idea, and no one I know of at the firm did either.’
‘If that’s the case, why is there an intricate paper trail of accounts, all signed off by you or your father, travelling through Jersey and the Isle of Man, making you very rich indeed? For the benefit of the tape, I am showing the suspect accounts from Crawley Haulage showing the discrepancies mentioned. I don’t believe your father acted alone.’ She placed photocopies of accounts containing the signatures of both Crawleys, father and son, in front of him on the table. She looked him in the eye. He looked away.
‘I don’t know anything about foreign money. I didn’t know our lorries were being used like that.’ He was making it hard.
‘Is that your signature?’
He didn’t answer.
‘Both drivers said they took instructions from you.’
Again no response.
‘Did your mother know about any of this?’
He looked down at his hands.
‘Let’s try something else, shall we? How well did you know Colin Day?’
‘Not at all.’ Dave held her gaze.
Kelly took a deep breath, she looked into his eyes looking for a hint that he was telling the truth, but she knew he wasn’t.
‘Were you aware that your father is on the sex offenders register?’
Without warning, he was over the desk and on her, his hands around her throat. Umshaw shouted for help. Two uniforms rushed into the room and restrained him. Kelly held her throat and gulped for air.
‘You fucking idiot,’ she said. ‘Was it worth it?’
She got up and left the room. Umshaw followed her.
‘Christ, guv, you OK? He’s a lunatic!’
‘Fucking arrest him.’
‘On what charge?’
‘Assaulting a police officer. As well as all the other shit. I’m going to see Teresa Joliffe’s ex-husband as planned.’ Kelly calmed herself and straightened her blouse.
‘Don’t you think you need to—?’
‘No. I don’t. I’m fine. I’ll be back in an hour.’
She walked out of Eden House and towards her car, rubbing her neck. Once she was in the driver’s seat, she put her head into her hands and cried.
Chapter 54
The man who opened the door was handsome and well dressed. He also had impeccable manners. Kelly had hastily wrapped a scarf around her neck, which had turned red and blotchy. It stung.
‘Do come in. The boys are at college. So you’re trying to find my ex-wife? Why on earth would you want to do that?’ Jacob Joliffe’s eyes twinkled playfully. ‘I’m sorry, is that crass? Personally, I wish she would disappear. The boys wouldn’t notice and it’d give my bank balance a rest. Can I make you a cup of tea or a coffee? I never used to like coffee, but I went on a trip to Italy and came back in love with the stuff. Look, this is what I treated myself to.’ He showed off his De’Longhi proudly.
‘Do you know where your ex-wife lives now? I can’t seem to find a home address, just businesses.’
‘Well, I can only tell you what the boys tell me, but I believe she still lives in the house I bought for her near Dockray, on the Grizedale Road. Very smart.’
‘Grizedale Road? What number?’
‘There are no numbers on the Grizedale Road, just names. It’s very pretentious. The house is called Greystone.’
‘Can you tell me about the hotels, Mr Jolif
fe? We have evidence that she was employing illegal workers, and at least one hotel was used as a brothel.’
‘Ha! Well bugger me – not literally, obviously, please excuse my language. Is that so? No wonder she could afford to keep the house. Just heating the damn thing costs a fortune. Bloody hell, you’ve stumped me on that one. I’d like to help, but I had no idea. Crikey.’
‘It sounds like you were very generous in your settlement. Why did she keep your name?’
‘Her maiden name is Smith. She liked the sound of Joliffe. When we were married, she called herself Joliffe-Smythe. It was most embarrassing.’
‘I’m getting the impression that your ex-wife likes money,’ Kelly said.
‘That’s an understatement. She’d do anything and climb over anyone for the damn stuff. It all stems from the fact that when she was growing up, her family had nothing. She was blessed with only one thing: her willingness to climb from one bed to another, taking what she could and moving on when she got bored.’
It was a scathing portrayal, but went some way to understanding the motives of a woman who would trade men, women and children for profit.
‘Do the boys have a recent photograph?’ she asked.
‘I’ll go and see. Their rooms are a mess, I don’t usually go in, but you might be in luck. I know there’s a box of photos on the shelf in the study. In my haste, I might have forgotten to burn them all.’ His eyes glinted as he left the room, and Kelly couldn’t help smiling.
He came back with a photo. Kelly looked at it and shivered. Teresa’s smile was broad, but her eyes were dead. It must be exhausting keeping up the pretence, she thought.