‘So how did that happen?’
‘You’re the detective. You work it out.’
Chapter 30
‘We need to talk.’
Trish sounded like a troubled character from a daytime soap opera. She stood in the kitchen doorway, staring at me, arms folded, deep creases on her forehead.
‘What’s going on, John?’
Where to start? I had four murders to investigate, three of the bodies had had their tongues cut out, and I had a brace of do-gooders competing for a place in the shortlist of the next-to-die. Before I could think of how to reply Trish continued.
‘You don’t answer my texts.’
I didn’t answer my mother’s texts.
‘And I just feel that you’re pushing me away.’
I pressed a switch on the Gaggia and watched the light flickering. Trish walked into the kitchen and sat down by the small table.
‘Look Trish. I’m really busy,’ I turned up the palms of my hands, hoping it would placate her.
‘Too busy to send me a text.’
Now I folded my arms across my chest.
‘Look, once this case is over things will get back to normal.’
‘What is normal for you, John? You’ve got to find time for me. Or for us. It’s never us, is it? It’s always what you’re doing. What you need to get finished. You’re never thinking about what we could be doing. What our future might be.’
It was the sort of statement that had no simple reply. I didn’t want things with Trish to be the same as they had been with Jackie and I was trying my best to find the right thing to say. But I kept thinking about Dagmara and Maria and Anna, their certainty and defiance infuriating me.
‘Are you listening, John?’
‘Yes, of course.’
‘Then why don’t you say something?’
‘I’m in the middle of a murder inquiry. I haven’t got time for this now.’
I reached for the coffee from a cupboard and after spooning the grounds into the cradle I snapped it into the machine. I flicked another switch.
‘You didn’t get back until after midnight last night. Surely you can spend some time with me this morning?’
I stood, leaning over the Gaggia, waiting for the hissing sound and the smell of fresh coffee.
‘You know what it’s like in a murder investigation. It’s round-the-clock stuff. I can’t simply decide to be late this morning.’
‘That’s typical of you. I know you’ve got to go to work. But sometimes why can’t you just stop and make time for me?’
‘There’s the weekend and Uncle Gino’s party. Why don’t we do something with Dean?’
I took my coffee, sat down by the table, and touched Trish’s hand but she pulled it away and glowered through tightly stretched lips.
‘It’s not the same John. All your family will be there.’
Trish was staring at the floor. Coffee started to dribble into a cup.
‘It would be good for you to be there as well. With Dean and me.’
‘I don’t know, John.’
Trish got up, pushed back the chair and stopped at the doorway as she left the kitchen.
I listened to Trish rummaging in the bedroom, dropping shoes onto the floor, trying to find the right pair while I switched off the Gaggia and took the first sip of the espresso. Eventually, there was a silence and I guessed she was doing her face.
I was still sitting at the table when Trish paused at the doorway and narrowed her eyes.
‘I’ll text you later. Promise,’ I said.
Her expression didn’t change. ‘Maybe I’ll stay with Mum tonight. I haven’t seen her for a while.’
And with that she turned and left. I tried to make sense of why I felt annoyed with myself and irritated with Trish. I didn’t want to have a repeat of Jackie. Maybe I needed a transfer out of CID. What I probably needed was a long holiday.
* * *
I stifled a nagging feeling that I should have said something else to Trish, as I pulled my car into a vacant slot in the car park at the rear of Queen Street. I’d just locked the car as a text message came through. It was lucky for Boyd that the Wales Police Service didn’t audit text messages; if they did he’d have some explaining to do about his warning that Detective Inspector Hobbs was waiting to see me.
I took the stairs up to the second floor at a leisurely pace and the words of Superintendent Cornock echoed in my mind, telling me that I had to cooperate with Dave Hobbs, something about the value of teamwork and corporate responsibility. I wondered how much teamwork had gone into killing Leon, dismembering Michal and drowning Maria. I reached the top of the stairs and before opening the doors to the Incident Room I stood for a moment, straightening my tie and buttoning my jacket. As I pushed open the door I thrust my mobile to my ear and started talking loudly. I marched through the Incident Room, making straight for my office at the far end and noticed Boyd glancing over his shoulder.
I stood behind my desk, the mobile still at my ear, as Dave Hobbs entered my room. I muffled the microphone with the palm of my hand and looked up at Hobbs.
‘Super wants me to talk to you,’ Hobbs said, drawing his tongue over his lips. ‘About the burglaries and—’
‘Will it take long, Dave? Only this is an important call.’
Hobbs walked forward and sat down, tugging at his trouser material before crossing one leg over the other.
‘I’ll need to call you back in five minutes,’ I said.
I sat down and, looking at my desk, felt vaguely pleased that there was a semblance of order, with only two bits of paper cluttering the top.
‘Coffee, Dave?’
Dave Hobbs narrowed his eyes until they became two black slits.
‘I’ve read your file about the burglaries,’ he said, measuring every word as though he had something important to add. ‘Seems straightforward enough for me. Brown is in the frame. He’ll go down, of course.’
‘I don’t think Jason Brown was involved.’
Hobbs jerked his head at me and blinked quickly a couple of times. I always enjoyed dropping something unexpected into conversations with Dave Hobbs. He had a mind that ran on straight lines, simple and uncomplicated.
‘The Super wants me to review the whole file. From top to bottom, beginning to end. He wants me to do a complete reassessment of where we are. If, as you say, Jason Brown isn’t responsible then we’ve been doing a lot of work for nothing. And there’s a neighbourhood watch meeting.’
‘Of course, Air Commodore Bates and his charming wife will be present.’
‘You’ve got no idea, have you, Marco?’ Hobbs pressed his lips together and made a narrow smile. ‘You can’t afford to antagonise people like that. And he’s a Wing Commander.’
I picked up my mobile from the desk and turned it in my fingers. I wanted so much to slap Hobbs around the face that containing my irritation stretched my self-discipline.
‘You’ve only got to talk to Brown to see what he’s like. He’s homeless, a drunk and he thrived on the attention being in the spotlight for burglaries in Cyncoed. He may be a sneak thief and perhaps he’ll cough to pinching a handbag from a kitchen table through an open door but you put him to court for the sort of burglaries we’re talking about and the likes of Glanville Tront will tear you apart.’
‘That may be—’
‘Guaranteed, Dave. I’m sure you wouldn’t want the fallout from a prosecution that falls over in court. You know how it is. Who was the officer in charge? Why was the decision made to prosecute?’
Hobbs moved awkwardly in the chair, uncrossed and then recrossed his legs. But he kept staring at me; he was good at staring at people.
‘The Super wants this case handled with care and precision. There are a lot of people involved and he wants to make sure that nobody could possibly feel that we hadn’t given the case the most thorough attention. That’s why he wants me to take the case, of course.’
‘When’s the neighbourhood watch meeting?�
��
Hobbs’s eyes widened a little and he puckered his lips before I continued.
‘I should be there. You know, Dave, to provide the logistical support and backup that you need, bearing in mind that I was the SIO at the house of Wing Commander Bates.’
Hobbs tried smiling, but widening his lips proved too much of a strain and his mouth collapsed back into a tight, thin line.
‘I don’t think that will be necessary.’
I felt like telling Hobbs that I even had a suit for the occasion. Then I looked at his suit. A fine check pattern ran through the dark material and I noticed the row of buttons at the sleeve. His shirt was white and the tie a dark-blue – Cornock would approve.
‘Least I can do.’ I smiled at Hobbs, who didn’t flinch.
I picked up the mobile and gave it a long hard look, as though I were willing it to ring.
Hobbs fingered the papers on his lap and flicked through the first few pages of statements before looking at me. ‘We’ll need to go through all the evidence and statements carefully.’
‘Look, I’ve got to return a call. Can this wait until some other time?’
Hobbs managed a smile that said leave-it-to-me and then got up and left.
Seconds after Hobbs had left Boyd stood at my door and I waved him.
‘Did you get my text, boss?’
I nodded as he sat down.
‘He just appeared at my desk. Began asking questions about you. Why were you late? And how often were you late getting into work? And if things were going all right in the inquiry. Guy gives me the creeps.’
I was surprised when the inspector in me started composing a reminder to Boyd that Hobbs was his superior officer. But it soon passed.
‘Hobbs is taking the burglaries as there’s been another in Cyncoed. Super’s instructions. He doesn’t want us distracted from the murder investigations.’
Hobbs had left me nursing an attitude that wasn’t good for my blood pressure, but then the telephone rang and when I heard the colonel’s voice I knew that things weren’t going to improve.
‘I have news,’ he said.
‘OK, good news I hope.’
‘Janek Symanski is home in Warsaw and police are going to speak to him about—’
‘We really need to speak to him first. They can’t possibly know what to ask him. And they might ask all the wrong questions.’
‘We can try and help; that is all.’
‘Who’s dealing with it there?’
‘I find name.’
‘Just tell him to keep Janek under observation.’
‘I do what I can.’
‘And what about Lech Balinski?’
There was a pause and a wheezing sound like the chest of a heavy smoker.
‘Lech Balinski is very dangerous man,’ he said slowly. ‘We have much to discuss with him if we have evidence. But no one will talk about him. If you have witnesses then we would be happy to see Lech in court.’
I drew a hand through my hair, then over my mouth and wondered when our luck would turn. Or whether it ever would.
‘So why do you want to talk to Lech?’
‘He is involved with Russia Mafia and then with many bad men who bring drugs into Poland and—’
‘And they bring underage girls over as prostitutes.’
Another pause as his chest made a rasping sound.
‘It is very sad.’
* * *
We spent the rest of the day working through the statements and reading the reports from forensics. The analysis of the tongues that had been amputated from the various animals didn’t take the investigation any further. The evidence linked Frankie Prince to the house in Splott and then to another thirty properties full of Eastern Europeans working in the factories around Cardiff. I thought about Maria and the prospect of having to confront yet another Polish family with their loss. A sense of frustration was nagging at my mind that somebody on duty in the Bay must have remembered which boats had gone through the barrage. But the statements said simply that the barrage was opened every half an hour for boats and yachts to pass through. I walked out through into the Incident Room and stood over Boyd’s desk.
‘Was there CCTV at the barrage?’
‘Don’t know, boss.’
‘Well, find out.’
The telephone rang in my office and I picked it up after the fourth ring and heard Cornock’s exasperated voice at the other end.
‘Get over here, now.’
* * *
Cornock had the door of his office open and I could hear the sound of the television blaring. He stood behind his desk, legs slightly apart, clutching a remote control in his right hand.
‘Just look at this,’ he said, pointing the remote at the television.
The sound increased and I watched the familiar face of a television reporter speaking to the camera. It looked like a hotel conference room with rows of seats facing a table.
‘I’ve just had a call from the Public Relations department. Apparently Janet Helm is organising a press conference. She’s going to be making some dramatic statement about the Polish murders. I knew she was bad news…’
The reporter on the screen fumbled over his words, fidgeted with his earpiece, and then turned to look behind him as Janet Helm entered the room. As I watched Helm walking towards the table I didn’t notice, at first, who was walking by her side. I took a step towards the television once I’d realised that I recognised the face and the tell-tale scarf, scarcely believing that Anna would be there with Helm.
‘Who is that with her?’ Cornock asked.
‘That’s Anna. She was with Helm when you met her.’
‘Of course. Of course.’
‘I’ve got a bad feeling about this.’
‘One of the television stations asked if we wanted to be present.’
I stared at Cornock. ‘Do you know what they’re going to say, sir?’
Before Cornock could answer, the screen filled with the image of Janet Helm sitting at the table. Her hair was neat, her clothes sharp and she seemed slimmer than when I’d seen her face to face. The make-up was evident, but it couldn’t hide the wrinkles around her eyes and above her mouth. The camera panned away and showed Anna loosening the scarf around her neck and I noticed the deep black bags under her eyes. Helm pulled a microphone towards her, then cleared her throat.
‘Recent tragic events have only highlighted the inadequacies of our policing service when it comes to dealing with human trafficking and what can only be described as modern-day slavery…’
Before Helm said much more the telephone rang on Cornock’s desk. He almost knocked it over picking up the handset. He clenched his jaw as he listened to the message.
‘Yes, sir. I am looking at the television.’
Cornock listened, occasionally confirming details. Once he’d finished he turned to me. ‘That was the Chief Constable. He wants to see us.’
Chapter 31
Almost a week had passed since Janet Helm’s press conference and the atmosphere in Queen Street had changed. Staff from Public Relations had been in Queen Street every day, poking their noses into every part of the investigation. When one of the tabloids ran an exclusive about the current state of the investigation, things got really bad. The rumours about leaks made everybody tense. Even Terry sent me a text telling me that things had ‘gone to shit’ and for me not to contact him. I wore a suit to work, not my best suit – that one I’d bought specially for Uncle Gino’s party – but a cheap grey suit I’d bought years ago. It had a musty smell when I pulled it from the wardrobe, and had Trish been staying she’d probably have taken it to the dry cleaners first.
I’d spoken to Dagmara on the telephone and each time we stumbled over finding the right things to say. There were silences and she started but didn’t finish sentences. Boyd gave me odd looks when I closed my office door to speak to her. Once the calls were over, all I could think of was seeing her again and watching her smile at me.
; It had been barely a year since policing and justice had been devolved to the Welsh government and the Chief Constable had kept reminding us, during our meeting after Helm’s press conference, that a lot of the right-wing press didn’t think that Wales could run its police and justice system. Someone should tell them that small countries in Europe ran police forces without their bigger neighbours complaining.
I didn’t much care for politicians. I knew Helm didn’t really care about the murders and that all she really worried about was advancing her own career.
I had spent half an hour on the telephone the previous evening listening to my mother telling me about the arrangements for Uncle Gino’s party and getting me to confirm for her that I understood when and where everything was taking place.
My mobile was on the table with my half-finished breakfast bowl and I glanced over at it, thinking that I should call Trish. After our argument over breakfast she’d stayed with her mother for one night and then she’d gone back to her own flat. I’d been as good as my word and I’d sent her regular texts telling her what was happening. I scrolled through the phone for her number.
‘Hello John.’
‘How are things?’ There was a pause and I continued. ‘It’s Uncle Gino’s party tonight.’
‘Of course. I remember. I was beginning to wonder if you’d forgotten.’
‘You’re joking; my mother has rung every night this week. Last night I was on the phone for half an hour. She asked after you.’
‘And what did you say?’
‘I told her you were all right. You know, looking forward to the party.’
‘Yes, of course.’
‘Do you want to come with me to collect Dean?’
She didn’t sound enthusiastic. ‘Yes. I suppose.’
We fixed a time to meet and then she cleared her throat. ‘I hear things are a bit tense in Queen Street.’
I managed to get more aggression into my reply than I’d intended. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, that business with Janet Helm.’
‘What have you heard about it?’
‘No need to get defensive, John. Everyone knows how much pressure you’re under to get a result.’
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