Be Not Afraid (9781301650996)

by Ellis, Tim

  At twenty to five he switched the bedside light off, and let himself out of the room.

  ***

  Dee Cullen hated these early morning raids. She didn’t really join Chingford Social Services to knock down people’s doors at the crack of dawn, and snatch their children away. Oh, she knew it was sometimes necessary, and that she was in the right, but it didn’t make it any easier.

  DCI Debbie MacGregor from the Essex Child Abuse Investigation Team (CAIT) leaned towards her in the rear of the police van and said, ‘Remember, wait outside until we’ve got the children, and someone tells you it’s safe to enter the house.’

  ‘Are you expecting him to have a machine gun?’

  Debbie MacGregor was reasonably pretty. She had a high forehead. Her hair looked as though it had been pulled back into a braided ponytail by winch, and in the process she had lost her eyebrows.

  ‘He’s a senior policeman who’s involved his four children in satanic ritual abuse for God’s sake. Who knows what we’ll find in there? I hate paedophiles.’

  ‘Nothing has been proven yet. We’ve merely had an anonymous report supported by some circumstantial evidence.’

  MacGregor laughed. ‘Do you think we care about proof? He’s one of ours, and he’s been abusing his own kids. As far as we’re concerned, he’s lower than a snake’s belly.’

  A heavy-set constable sitting in the passenger seat put his head through the opening in the bulkhead and said, ‘The press are here, Ma’am.’

  ‘Shit! How did they find out?’

  Nobody answered.

  ‘Oh well, there’s nothing we can do about it now. Serves the filthy bastard right, anyway.’

  The van came to a halt.

  ‘Go,’ she said.

  The van doors opened. Twelve police officers – dressed in bullet-proof vests, wearing night goggles, and carrying Heckler & Koch MP5SFA3 semi-automatic carbines – piled out, and ran up the path to the front door.

  MacGregor nodded, and the door was smashed open using a hand-held battering ram.

  The officers rushed in shouting, ‘Police! Lie down. Put your hands behind your head.’

  They charged upstairs like a herd of elephants.

  The children were hustled downstairs one after the other. Hidden under blankets like criminals, taken outside, and bundled into the back of a second windowless van.

  Reporters were shouting questions, photographers were taking pictures, and the television cameras were rolling.

  Next, Kowalski, wearing a pair of handcuffs, was dragged out in his boxer shorts by six of the officers.

  ‘Someone call for an ambulance,’ one of the men shouted. ‘The bastard took three of us out before we could get the handcuffs on him.’

  Jerry Kowalski followed behind the officers who were dragging her husband out of the house. She wore a long silk nightdress, was screaming like a banshee, and kicking hell out of the two officers trying to restrain her.

  ‘Who’s the stupid bastard in charge?’ Kowalski asked.

  ‘I am. DCI Debbie MacGregor.’

  ‘Well, you can kiss your career goodbye, bitch. What the hell is this all about?’

  MacGregor signalled Dee Cullen to approach. ‘Tell him.’

  ‘An ex-parte application has been granted for an Emergency Protection Order in the case of your four children under Section 47 of the Children Act 1989, and you are advised to seek legal advice as soon as possible.’

  ‘Can’t you see it’s a mistake?’

  ‘And as if that wasn’t bad enough,’ DCI MacGregor said. ‘I’m arresting you on suspicion of sexually abusing your children, and involving them in satanic ritual abuse.’

  ‘You crazy bitch. You don’t honestly believe…’

  ‘What I believe is irrelevant, but I plan to find out the truth one way or another.’

  ‘Where are you taking our children?’ Jerry shouted.

  ‘Don’t worry, we’ll look after them,’ Dee Cullen said. ‘They’ll be taken to a secret location until such time as we can place them with foster carers.’

  ‘Foster carers!’ Jerry screamed. ‘Do something, Ray.’

  But Ray Kowalski was struggling to breathe, and had begun to turn blue.

  ‘Oh God,’ Jerry cried. ‘He’s having a heart attack. Ray! Ray! Don’t you die on me when I need you, Kowalski.’ She looked at DCI MacGregor. ‘If you stand there and watch him die, I’m going to come after you and watch you die, bitch.’

  ‘Get the cuffs off him,’ MacGregor said. ‘Anyone done the first aid course?’

  An officer stepped forward. ‘I have, Ma’am.’

  ‘Carry out mouth-to-mouth and that chest thing until the ambulance arrives. Hopefully, it won’t be too long. Shit! This is all I need.’ She looked up. The press were having orgasms. It had begun to get light, and sightseers were being drawn like moths to the light and the noise. ‘Move everyone back,’ she shouted to no one in particular. ‘Get the children out of here, and take Mrs Kowalski back to the station.’

  ‘I want to stay here with my husband,’ Jerry said.

  The van with the children inside pulled away

  MacGregor shook her head. ‘I’m afraid that’s not possible.’

  Jerry hung between the two officers like a rag doll, but her eyes were on fire. ‘After this is all over, bitch, I’m going to make it my life’s work to ruin you.’

  ‘Take her away,’ MacGregor said.

  The two officers pushed Jerry into a squad car, and she was driven away.

  The ambulance arrived, and the paramedics stabilised Ray Kowalski before taking him to King George Hospital.

  Chapter Six

  During the night a message had been left on her phone to say that the search teams had found the graves of three children in Reynkyn’s Wood.

  She scrambled out of bed, stripped off her pyjamas, and jumped into a cold shower before she chickened out. After reading about its health benefits, and how it was the secret of eternal youth she forced herself to wash in a cold shower every morning. To her mind, if the Spartans could do it, then she could as well.

  Crap! These people were heroes now. Nobody liked paedophiles. They were the lepers of modern-day society. And producing a website for the video confessions was pure genius. She’d checked it when she got home last night, and the thing had gone viral. Instead of a local crime, the whole world was looking in now, and they liked nothing more than to see filthy paedophiles get what they deserved.

  Now, she was in her car on her way to Stick’s to pick him up. Last night, she’d wanted to berate someone, so she’d persuaded him to leave his car at the station and given him a lift home.

  And on the news it was saying that Chief Kowalski had been arrested for satanic ritual abuse of children – the world was going crazy. She pulled up outside Stick’s house and beeped the horn.

  The net curtain in the bedroom moved as he came out of the front door. How weird was that?

  ‘Don’t you live alone?’ she asked when he shuffled into the passenger seat and fastened his seat belt.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘So how come the net curtains were moving in the bedroom?’

  ‘I have no idea.’

  ‘Maybe you’ve got ghosts. Is that it? Is the house haunted?’

  ‘Not that I’ve noticed…’

  ‘Or… you’ve got yourself… bloody hell, Stickamundo! You’ve got yourself a whore, haven’t you?’

  ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’

  ‘You know exactly what I’m talking about, and you’ll tell me all about it sometime, but not this morning. This morning you’re lucky that I have other things on my mind. Have you heard about Chief Kowalski?’

  ‘No, what?’

  She told him what she’d heard on the news.

  ‘That’s ridiculous,’ he said.

  ‘What’s ridiculous is that the Chief isn’t going to be taking the press conference.’

  ‘You’ll have to take it.’

  ‘Why
the hell should I? Super Bollock can take it.’

  ‘Except he doesn’t know anything about the case.’

  ‘That’s hardly my fault, is it?’

  Stick laughed.

  ‘Why are you laughing?’

  ‘I’d hate to get on the wrong side of you.’

  ‘Laugh away, dork. You’re always on the wrong side of me.’

  ‘Oh!’

  ‘When we get to the station, we’ll go straight up to forensics…’

  ‘Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t the Chief say that SDI Pollock was running the paedophile case, and that the Smith case was to be put on the backburner?’

  ‘What the Chief said last night isn’t relevant this morning, because he isn’t going to be around to enforce it.’

  ‘No, but the Chief Constable will send someone to replace Chief Kowalski. If I know anything about the way things work in the force I’d say that the Chief Constable must have approved the arrest of the Chief, and already identified his replacement. I wouldn’t be surprised if the new Chief was sitting in Chief Kowalski’s chair, and drinking his coffee already.’

  ‘Fuck’s sake! I hadn’t thought of that.’ She squinted through the rain-drenched windscreen. ‘Well, I can’t imagine that the old Chief would have told the new Chief about little ol’ me.’

  Stick laughed again. ‘They’ll lock us both up and throw away the key.’

  ‘Thanks for your concern. And I’d like to know how a lowly DC knows so much about the inner workings of the police force.’

  The corner of Stick’s mouth moved upwards slightly, but he didn’t say anything.

  Once they’d arrived at the station they avoided the people milling around in the squad room like zombies, and walked up to forensics.

  ‘Good morning, Sergeant Blake,’ Toadstone said. ‘I thought they’d replaced you with a DI.’

  ‘Well, Dr Genius Toad-in-the-hole-stone, you don’t need to worry about whether I’ve been replaced by a chimpanzee or not. What you need to worry about is your own job. Are we clear?’

  ‘Oil.’

  ‘I’m listening.’

  ‘That’s what I’ve got for you this morning. One of the swabs we took from the bottom of the victim’s feet came back with traces of oil on it.’

  ‘The world runs on oil, so how does that help me?’

  ‘There are different types of oil.’

  ‘I have a press briefing at nine o’clock, and I’d hate to appear in front of the television cameras with my hands drenched in blood.’

  ‘Commiphora myrrha,’ Toadstone said.

  Stick grinned. ‘Myrrh?’

  ‘Exactly,’ Toadstone nodded. ‘Myrrh is used as anointing oil in religious ceremonies.’

  ‘Very helpful. There are also a trillion churches, and…’

  ‘It’s imported from the Yemen by one company in the United Kingdom – FP Dupont Church Supplies located in Lowestoft, and they distribute it to all UK churches.’

  ‘I’m still not seeing how this helps us.’

  ‘Batch numbers.’

  ‘Ah!’

  ‘Once the company opens for business, we can identify the batch number this particular sample came from. They will then be able to tell us which churches they distributed that particular batch number to.’

  ‘Okay, I can see the possibilities, as long as we’re not talking about thousands of churches getting myrrh from the same batch number.’

  ‘You’re welcome, Sergeant Blake.’

  ‘Hey, don’t think I’m ungrateful. You’ve earned your crust of bread this morning, but let’s not get carried away, shall we? But… because I’ve had some good news this morning, and I can see you’re like a mongrel on heat, I’ll let you take me out for a meal tonight if you want to?’

  ‘I don’t know…’

  ‘Scared? No lead in your pencil…?’

  ‘Okay. What…?’

  ‘We’ll go from here. I’ll give you a shout later. Your job is to work out how much you’re willing to spend on me, and where we’re going to go. I like Italian by the way. Right, anything else?’

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘What about Di Heffernan?’

  ‘I thought she was coming to your briefing at nine o’clock.’

  ‘Tell her sorry, I can’t be in two places at the same time.’

  ‘Okay, I’ll let her know to go straight to Smith’s house. They have their work cut out there.’

  ‘Come on, Stick. And for God’s sake close your mouth.’

  They made their way down the stairs.

  ‘You’re going out with Dr Toadstone?’

  ‘Did you think I was going to save myself for you, you pervert? I’m single, a free agent, I can go out with whoever I want to, and a girl can’t stay a virgin all her life anyway. If you’re getting in whores like takeaways then I can go for a meal with Toadstone.’

  ‘Sergeant Blake, about time you got here. I’m DCI Miranda Colville….’

  Fuck’s sake! She hated working for women, especially thin women who looked younger than she did. How was this bitch a DCI when she was only a Sergeant? That was the problem with the system now, it allowed any Tom, Dick, or bleeding Miranda to come in as a trainee Inspector and get fast-tracked. No time served on the beat, no experience of anything worthwhile, and no frigging right to be bossing her about.

  ‘You’ve heard about DCI Kowalski?’

  The bitch had a mole on her top lip. It wasn’t a beauty spot, it was too big to be a spot – it was a hairy mole. She’d focus on that. Maybe it would take over her face.

  ‘Yes, Ma’am. Load of bollocks, if you ask me.’

  ‘I wasn’t asking you. Are you prepared to give the press briefing?’

  ‘Yes, I am. That’s why I’ve miraculously appeared.’

  ‘And don’t swear. Swearing is not acceptable in today’s police force.’

  Xena gritted her teeth. ‘It’s not the first time I’ve given a press briefing, Ma’am.’ Moleanda Colville, you graduate knob bitch.

  ‘I’ll be coming with you. Any questions relating to DCI Kowalski will be answered by me, is that clear?’

  ‘As Waterford crystal, Ma’am.’

  ‘Good.’

  She pointed to someone behind Xena. ‘I don’t think you’ve met SDI Toby Pollock…’

  Xena swivelled.

  SDI Bollock was tall, a good three inches taller than Stick. The round-rimmed glasses perched on his nose were far too small for his big head, and he had a smile like someone who inhabited another dimension.

  He offered an enormous hand. ‘DS Blake, I’ve heard lots about you, and DC Gilbert…’ He shook hands with Stick as well.

  When he spoke his eyes looked to the left of her, and she wondered who he was talking to – weird bastard. Where did the Chief Constable get these defectives? He was ugly as well. Never mind swearing, ugliness was the unacceptable face of policing.

  ‘I’ll join you in the press briefing, and then you can tell me everything you know about the case. I look forward to working with you both.’

  ‘I’m sure,’ she said, and headed towards the stairs.

  What had she done to deserve this? She was essentially a good person. Oh, she had a few minor faults – like farting in the bath to see how many bubbles she could produce – her personal record now stood at eleven – and thinking of George Clooney ravishing her when she masturbated. But other than those trivial behavioural anomalies she could have appeared on the cover of “Police Review” as “Sergeant of the Month”, so why was she stuck with these two naffing eggplants?

  ***

  Chapman Ryder wasn’t staying at the Jefferson, which made life particularly difficult. Due to the FBI conference, the hotel was bursting at the seams, so he’d booked into the Mountain Pass Hotel a couple of blocks to the north. It was the closest he could find to the Jefferson, but it certainly wasn’t going to stretch the DGIFC’s budget. It was small, had two single beds, a tiny kitchenette, and a hideous striped carp
et. Thankfully, he was only sleeping there. The rest of the time, he was pretending to be a guest at the Jefferson, so that he could keep a close eye on Parish.

  The trouble was, he hadn’t yet been to sleep. He had planned to catch a taxi back to the hotel when Parish and his wife had left the bar, but out of the corner of his eye he’d noticed the other man watching the group. He’d become curious, and decided to stay – just for a short while. Then, when the two young ladies had left, the man had followed them.

  Curiouser and curiouser, he’d thought, and followed the man back to his room via the ladies’ rooms. Now, he should have gone back to his own hotel then, but his gut had told him that all was not as it appeared.

  Sure enough, at around three o’clock, the man had left his room dressed as a woman.

  Chapman had smiled. What the hell was going on?

  He’d followed the transvestite up to the nanny’s room where the man had let himself inside.

  Chapman prided himself in being able to quickly work out what was going on in most situations, but he’d really had no idea what the hell was taking place.

  More curious than ever, he’d waited. At twenty to five the man reappeared. This time, he didn’t follow. Instead, he let himself into the nanny’s room, and at last understood what had been going on.

  He realised then that he had a serious problem.

  The hotel’s CCTV security system would become a matter of intense interest by the police, and he’d be clearly identifiable going into the dead nanny’s room.

  Crap! It wasn’t often that he made mistakes, but following the nanny’s killer was a stupid mistake – one that an amateur would have made.

  There were very few people about at five in the morning. As he was waiting for the lift he did see a woman in a towelling dressing gown and a pair of flip-flops and guessed she was heading down to the pool for an early morning swim. In the lift he pressed for the second basement level where he hoped to find the main electrical cabinet. Even in the confined space there was a camera recording his every movement.