He was holding a cup of tea and a cigarette burned almost down to the filter. As Nell and Paul approached, he pulled out another, lighting it from the first, before stubbing the first one out in an old coffee cup already overflowing with fag ends.
‘I don’t suppose you’re going to do me for smoking in my own shop, not with –’ Terry gestured to the ceiling with his cigarette, ‘– that up there.’ He took a long drag and it was only as Nell took the seat next to him that she saw he was shaking.
‘It must have been quite a shock, finding him like that.’
Another drag. ‘Yeah, you could say that.’
She picked up the packet of cigarettes and tapped one into her hand. ‘May I?’
Terry paused, then leaned over and flicked open his Zippo. ‘Sure.’
Nell took a drag and waited for the nicotine to hit. ‘What made you go up and check the flat?’
‘I’m the caretaker and the woman renting rang and asked me to look at her window catch. Broken, she said.’
‘It isn’t?’
‘Didn’t get a chance to look. Got a bit distracted by the dead body in the middle of the floor.’ He attempted a laugh but only managed a fit of coughing. Nell blew smoke towards the ceiling and waited until he’d finished.
‘And the name of the woman who rents the flat?’
Terry frowned. ‘Shit. Can’t remember.’ When he looked up, he seemed lost. ‘I only spoke to her yesterday as well.’
‘Do you have the name written down anywhere?’ Nell gestured to what seemed to pass for a desk.
‘Oh, yeah. Course.’ He stood, and Nell noted the beer belly and sweat marks under his armpits. Her stomach churned.
‘You’ve met her then?’ she called after him as he went to the desk.
Terry shook his head as he dug under paper and discarded cups and plates. ‘No. Heard her on the phone and seen her on CCTV.’ He suddenly held up a piece of paper. ‘That’s it. Benote,’ he said. ‘Her name is Gloria Benote.’
Nell glanced at Paul, then asked, ‘You sure?’
‘Yeah, says so right here.’ He waved the paper to make his point.
‘Did she have anyone staying with her? A child maybe?’
He shook his head. ‘No, it wasn’t that kind of flat, if you get my meaning.’
Nell’s look told him she didn’t. Stubbing out the cigarette on the nearest plate, he shrugged. ‘It’s a bit more of a use-by-the-hour sort of a job.’
‘Gloria’s a prostitute?’
How the hell had Carla missed that? Unless Gloria had never been picked up, in which case there’d be no trace of her on the system. But Nell doubted Gloria would have avoided all police contact; Oxford was small enough for cops to know most sex workers by name, so something would have been logged, even if it was just an intel report. Maybe Carla just hadn’t looked?
Terry fell into another fit of coughing and sat down behind the desk. ‘As far as I could tell,’ he said when he’d cleared his throat. ‘Didn’t ask, of course, not the gentlemanly thing to do.’ He winked at Paul, whose face remained the same, making Terry shuffle awkwardly in his seat. ‘Anyway, not my business, is it?’
‘Not your business if someone is breaking the law over your shop?’ It was fine not to want to be involved, but Nell knew betting shops got enough visits from police without adding a resident prostitute into the mix. So why not shop her? Unless Gloria was giving sexual favours in return for his silence, which was possible; given the state of him, she imagined he’d be hard-pressed to get it any other way.
When he didn’t answer she asked, ‘And when did you last see her?’
He paused. ‘Maybe about ten yesterday morning.’
‘Is that normal?’
‘Normal?’
‘Is it the time you usually see her?’
Terry thought. ‘No. She usually comes round about eight in the evening. So I suppose it was a bit unusual.’
Nell nodded. ‘And O’Brian?’
Terry stared at her. ‘I didn’t really get a good look at the bloke, seeing as most of his head was sprayed all over the carpet.’
He had a point.
‘OK, so have you noticed anyone hanging around? Anyone who doesn’t look like a punter?’
Terry considered this for a second. ‘Well, there was this bloke who popped up every now and again. He’d come in for a bet, then would disappear about the time the woman turned up. Always had the same overnight bag. That’s what made me notice him. You don’t usually carry an overnight bag for an hour’s knock-up, do you?’
Nell had no idea what men took with them when they went to a prostitute and she couldn’t say she wanted to. But Kelly-Anne had mentioned O’Brian’s overnight bag and his regular absences, so that fitted. O’Brian had been using Gloria as his escape route and she’d obviously welcomed him.
So why kill him? Revenge? Frustrated, Nell pointed to the television screens. ‘I assume you have CCTV and it’s working?’
Terry nodded, heaved himself out of his chair and walked slowly behind the counter. ‘Inside and out. Want both?’
Paul nodded, following him across the room as Nell took out her phone and headed outside.
Lighting a cigarette in the alley beside the betting shop, she dialled the office. ‘Carla? Nell. Gloria rents the flat O’Brian was found in. Can you run a check on her, a proper one? Known addresses, vehicles, the usual. See if you can find her for us.’
Carla was silent for a moment and Nell’s irritation grew. What was it with Carla and this Gloria? They all had one victim who stuck with them; why the hell did Carla’s have to be on her case?
‘A proper one?’
‘Sorry?’ Nell blew smoke towards the bright blue sky, feeling the sweat under her armpits start to spread to her ribcage.
‘You said a proper one, as if I haven’t done a proper job on Gloria before. If you’re suggesting I’m deliberately protecting her, I’d rather you just said.’
Nell rolled her eyes. ‘Sorry, no, I’m rushing. I just meant a thorough one.’
‘So I haven’t been thorough?’
For God’s sake. Nell stamped on her half-smoked cigarette and turned to go back inside.
‘Can you just check it out, please?’
‘Is she a suspect then?’ Carla clearly wasn’t going to let it go.
‘You don’t think she’s viable?’
‘I just can’t imagine her having the balls to do it. She was …’ Carla searched for the right words, ‘… addicted to him. Why would she kill him?’
‘Jesus, I don’t know – jealousy, love? Pick any of the emotions women say makes them kill.’
She heard Carla sigh.
‘OK, I’ll do some digging then.’
Her tone let Nell know she thought it was a blind alley, but what the hell else did they have to go on? O’Brian had been murdered in a flat Gloria rented. Did Carla expect her to gloss over that because Gloria had once been his victim? If anything, it made it all the more likely.
‘Thanks. And can you send me over a screenshot of Gloria. We’re about to go over the CCTV and I want to know who I’m looking for.’
‘Sure, will do.’
Nell hung up. The pain in her right eye had got worse and all she wanted was Carla to do her job – plus a paracetamol and a bottle of Coke.
As she made her way to where Paul and Terry sat, engrossed in CCTV footage, her phone pinged. Opening the text message, she saw a picture of a young blonde – no more than twenty-one – looking at the camera as if it were about to attack her. Victim shot, Carla had typed, then underneath, just after O’Brian broke her arm.
Ignoring the passive-aggressive tone, Nell scrolled down, seeing pictures of the injuries Carla had pointedly added to the message, noting the slim build, the skinny arms. Could she have lifted a heavy object and brought it down so hard it made O’Brian’s brain explode out the other side? The final picture was one of Gloria and her son, both smiling at the camera, Gloria’s arms wrapped tightly aroun
d the little boy, hugging him close.
‘Jesus,’ Nell muttered, shoving it back in her pocket. She knew why Carla had sent that one – make the victim a real person and it increased your desire to help them. But Gloria wasn’t a victim, she was a suspect, at least to Nell anyway.
‘Got anything?’ she asked as she joined the two men.
‘Yeah – see.’ Paul pointed to the screen. ‘Got her coming and going over the last month, mostly at the start of the week. Don’t think she sleeps here, mind. Seems to arrive, followed by a steady stream of men, before leaving at about midnight most nights. Last time seen, yesterday, 23:54 hours.’
‘What time does she usually arrive?’
‘About 20:00 hours.’
Nell nodded and dragged a chair over. ‘Show me.’
Terry showed her two weeks’ worth of footage, then rewound the previous night’s tape until a tall woman appeared. Pausing, she looked right and left before running across the road and approaching the flat door, taking a quick look behind her before she disappeared inside.
‘Can you rewind that again?’ Nell leaned closer to the screen, noting the dark brown hair and thick legs. Nell watched the woman again as she crossed the road. ‘Have you got a close-up of her face?’
Terry loaded another cassette and up sprung Gloria’s face, looking at the flat door as she keyed in the entrance code.
‘What’s the date of that image?’
‘One week ago.’
‘And last night?’
‘I can’t get a close-up for that.’
Nell pointed to the close-up of Gloria a week earlier. ‘How long has that woman been renting this place?’
‘Dunno. About six months. Not long.’
Nell could see from Paul’s expression he needed an explanation. She gave the woman’s face one more look, then nodded for Paul to follow her.
‘What is it?’ Paul asked as they walked to the far side of the shop.
‘That woman, the one in last night’s CCTV, isn’t Gloria Benote. The build and colouring are all off.’
‘I don’t understand. There are two women?’
‘Looks like it, yes.’
Paul glanced back at Terry. ‘So Gloria was renting with someone else?’ He turned back to Nell. ‘Like a mini brothel set-up?’
‘I don’t think so, no. The only woman going into that flat has been Gloria. Except last night it wasn’t Gloria, it was someone else.’
‘Do you think Gloria knows who that was?’
Nell looked up at the blackened window behind which O’Brian’s body lay. Why would Gloria hide O’Brian and then let someone in to kill him? Why not just do it herself? And if she had given access to the flat to another woman, then who the hell had a better motive to kill him than Gloria?
‘We’re going to have to bring Gloria in.’
‘That’ll be two to interview then, we’ve still got Kelly-Anne waiting for us.’
Kelly-Anne. Shit, she’d forgotten about her.
‘Do you think Kelly-Anne might have been the one Gloria let in?’ she asked.
Paul took out his car keys and put on sunglasses. ‘Maybe they decided to work together. Punish him once and for all.’
Nell wasn’t convinced Kelly-Anne had it in her, but then she’d never met Gloria, so Paul could well be right.
‘OK. Let’s get back to the station and get Gloria in. One of them is going to cave and I’ll bet you a hundred quid it’s Kelly-Anne.’
Sixteen
Carla had woken to a cup of tea by the bed and a note from Baz telling her he loved her. She’d pulled open her bedroom drawer, taken out the contraceptive pills hidden there and swallowed one down, trying to ignore the guilt she felt every morning and the lies she told Baz every time he mentioned babies.
The bus ride into work had been consumed by thoughts of Gerry and his mysterious meeting and by the time she was at her desk she felt tired and irritated, so Nell’s thinly veiled suggestion she wasn’t doing her job well stung. Particularly as Carla was worried she was right.
On the day Carla gave evidence, Gloria had been standing in the court hallway with the family liaison officer and Carla had been struck by the woman’s youthful appearance, and how much this jarred with the child nestled on her hip. It was day two of O’Brian’s trial and Gloria was pleading with the family liaison officer to let her see him.
‘I just want to see him, just for five minutes – I need to say I’m sorry.’
Carla had stared at the bruise running down Gloria’s cheek and thought she wasn’t the one who should be apologising. The family liaison officer clearly agreed.
‘But Gloria, you do understand it’s not you who’s to blame, don’t you? That what he did to you was wrong?’
Gloria looked frustrated. Adjusting the dummy in the toddler’s mouth, she said, ‘You don’t understand. I made him cross and he couldn’t help himself.’
‘You didn’t make him cross, Gloria, you made him a dinner he didn’t like.’ The family liaison officer’s tone was flat and Carla wondered how many times she’d heard the same thing: women so beaten – emotionally and physically – they could no longer see a reality outside the one their partners had created for them.
Gloria had never been persuaded to blame O’Brian and when the judge sentenced him to jail, she’d wept in the gallery as he was taken down. Carla thought of that image as she opened up the intelligence database, hoping she wouldn’t find anything to tell her O’Brian had got his hooks back into Gloria and forced her into prostitution. Because Gloria loved her child, would never do anything to endanger him, the only person who could challenge that commitment was O’Brian.
The search came back clear – not a trace of Gloria on any police system. Carla leaned back in her chair, relieved. It didn’t mean she hadn’t been selling sex, but at least she hadn’t been caught. Yet. Carla tapped her pen on the table. She’d get hold of the landlord, confirm the tenant’s name, and work from there. Maybe it wasn’t Gloria at all and a check of who was paying the rent could tell her that.
A quick call to the Oxford City Council Tax department and she had the landlord’s number. Dialling, she tried to think of what could have made Gloria attack O’Brian. It didn’t fit with anything she knew about the woman. It wasn’t just her adoration of him, her general nervousness suggested she wasn’t the type to commit cold-blooded murder – unless it had been an accident? But Nell had been pretty sure it wasn’t.
‘Yes?’ The voice was deep, heavily accented and obviously annoyed at having been disturbed. ‘What do you want?’
‘Hello, this is Thames Valley Police. I wanted to check on a tenant you have living at 34 Rose Way?’
‘Where they found the body?’ He sounded so matter-of-fact Carla was taken aback. He filled in the gap created by her hesitation.
‘I told the officer I’d be in tomorrow. It will have to wait until then. I have matters I need to attend to.’
‘Of course, sir, yes, that’s for your statement to my uniformed colleagues. But we have an urgent enquiry that I was hoping you could help me with now.’
She heard him sigh heavily down the phone. ‘Well then, what is it?’
‘I just wanted to confirm the tenant’s name at the property.’
‘I said this. Gloria Benote.’
‘Yes, thank you. Do you recall who paid the rent? The name on the bank account details, for example?’
‘Isn’t what I’ve told you enough?’
‘No, sir. Your tenant may have registered in Ms Benote’s name, but the payment details would confirm this – or not,’ she added.
Another sigh. ‘Hold on.’
Carla heard metal drawers being opened, paper being rustled, before he came back on the line.
‘Gloria Benote. Banks with Lloyds.’
Shit. ‘OK, thank you, sir, that’s very helpful.’
‘And is that it?’
Carla had a thought. ‘Was Ms Benote renting any other property off you?’
&
nbsp; ‘Yes, she was.’ He sounded surprised, suddenly interested.
‘Can you let me have that address please?’ She took the pen lid off with her teeth and wrote down the details as he gave them. ‘Thank you, you’ve been really helpful.’
He hung up without a goodbye, but Carla barely noticed. The second property must be where Gloria lived with her kid while she used the flat for work. A bit like renting office space.
Bremer appeared at the door with two takeout coffees. He handed one to Carla and sat down next to her. ‘Have you spoken to Nell?’
‘Yeah, looks like Gloria was hiding O’Brian.’
Bremer stirred his latte with a wooden stick. ‘Nell wants to bring her in. Have we got an address?’
‘Just got it from the landlord.’
‘Right. Good work.’ He paused. ‘You know Eve’s the pathologist for the O’Brian murder?’
Carla didn’t. ‘Is that a problem?’
Bremer leaned back in his chair. ‘Not sure. But it doesn’t feel ideal.’
‘Because of the letter?’
He nodded. ‘I’m just wary of her being on the same case she’s been accused of tampering with. And I know,’ he continued, before she could speak, ‘it’s just a letter and there is nothing to link her to the case.’ He looked at Carla.
‘Nothing at all,’ she confirmed.
‘But I still think we’re treading a thin line.’ He took a sip of coffee and stirred it again. ‘You know her husband, right?’
‘Yeah, he was my first sergeant.’ She knew the next question so answered before it could be asked: ‘Straight down the line, not a dodgy bone in his body.’
‘Good.’
‘You want me to speak to him, don’t you?’ Carla wasn’t sure how she felt about that. It seemed a little underhand to use their friendship to get information on the case, but on the other hand, Eve had brought the letter to their attention, so it wasn’t a conflict of interest, not really.
‘It might be good to see what Gerry knows,’ Bremer replied, watching her reaction.
She smiled and picked up her notepad.
‘Sure. He’s on duty today so I’ll go and find him.’
When I Lost You Page 8