Death and Deception

by B. A. Steadman

  She had scanned the reports from Interpol. Nothing concrete. The woman, Irina Akis, was known to them and wanted in connection with prostitution, but all had been quiet for several years and she was not a top priority. The one in hospital had been a well-known boxer on the European circuit. Whatever this gang was up to, it was either happening within the confines of their little Baltic country, or they were very clever indeed to have escaped detection. Oliver tended towards the latter interpretation.

  As she entered the room, Oliver thought Grigor Pelakais was the walking cliché for ‘tall, dark and handsome.’ He had removed the fake doctor’s coat he had been wearing and was sitting in a silk shirt, expensive looking trousers and rubber clogs. She introduced herself and Sally, and they stood near the door. Two officers stood just outside.

  ‘I believe you wish to speak to me about the murder of Detective Chief Inspector Gould, Mr Pelakais?’

  Grigor was at a loss. He didn’t know how to address this woman, and he needed her to listen to him urgently. He rose, intending to show respect for her seniority. The officers responded with frightening speed. One shoved Pelakais back onto the concrete bed base and towered above him, baton raised. Both women were simultaneously yanked out of the cell and placed behind the other officer.

  ‘Please,’ Grigor said, hands up in the universal sign of submission, ‘I will not hurt you. I want to help. I have information to give if you will help me and my friend, Filip Sarkov.’

  Oliver hated it when her officers over-reacted, but she guessed that they were all a bit jumpy at the moment. She rolled her eyes at Sally and resisted muttering ‘Boys,’ as she entered the room for the second time.

  ‘Just take your time, Mr Pelakais, and stay seated. What do you want to say?’

  Grigor spilled the whole story, from his lowly beginnings in rural Latvia to the sordid mess that was now his life, and the ‘warning’ that had gone so badly wrong the previous night. Sally interrupted, ‘So, if we help Filip Sarkov in his trial for murder, you will tell us what Irina Akis is doing here in Exeter?’

  ‘Yes, and I wish to claim asylum for myself and my friend.’

  ‘We’ll see about that later,’ muttered Oliver. ‘For now, tell me what you are doing here in Exeter.’

  Grigor thought hard. It was important to give the correct information and to make them see how important it was that they should listen to him. ‘We are making pornographic films for sale in Europe.’

  Oliver glanced at Sally, a question wrinkling the skin between her eyebrows. Why come all the way to Exeter to make a porn movie?

  ‘I thought they were made in Eastern Europe and exported to England,’ said Sally, ‘not the other way round.’

  ‘These are special movies. They are made with children. Sometimes little children. Sometimes the children do not live.’ He felt tears come to his eyes and focussed his gaze on the concrete floor. Perhaps it was now time for him to grieve for the lives he had helped to ruin. ‘Irina, she cannot do this in Latvia anymore. She met Jed Abrams and they agreed to make the movies together. Filip and I, we are the muscles. We handle distribution and any problems. Abrams finds the children.’

  ‘How many?’ asked Oliver. ‘How many times have you been here? How many films have you made?’

  ‘We come every three months, for three years. Twelve films. Today will be the thirteenth.’

  Oliver took a step forward. ‘What do you mean, today?’

  ‘We are filming this evening.’ His eyes skittered between the two women. ‘If you guarantee us safety and a fair trial, I will tell you where it is happening.’

  Oliver turned to the Police officer standing outside the door. ‘Get this man a drink and some food, and tell the Sergeant to organise a solicitor for him.’ She turned back to face the prisoner. ‘I will call a meeting of the detectives involved in the case.’ She paused and glared at him. ‘You had better not lie to me, Mr Pelakais.’

  ‘No madam, I will not. My life and the life of my family and friend depend on it.’

  Oliver found Dan with his nose pressed against the glass of the Interview Room, trying to lip-read what was happening inside.

  ‘Jamie said he would talk to his mother and Sergeant Larcombe if I wasn’t there,’ he said. ‘I didn’t like leaving them but it seems calm enough, and he is talking to the solicitor and his mother, although you could stuff a mattress with the number of tissues they’ve got through in the last half hour.’ He noticed the expression on Oliver’s face and stopped talking. ‘What?’

  ‘We’ve got Grigor Pelakais, the other male Latvian in custody. They’re involved in child porn with Abrams. That’s why they’re here, and it’s going down tonight. He’ll help us in exchange for a fair deal for him and the one you almost did for, who’s called Filip Sarkov. Put Sally in the Jamie May interview and get to my office in fifteen minutes. I’ve got an idea.’ With that, she turned and was gone.

  Dan allowed himself a moment of panic. It was all happening very fast. He looked back in through the window. Jamie was listening and nodding. He was talking, too. It was the breakthrough they wanted. He wanted to get back inside and make the little git tell him what he knew. On the other hand, he needed to solve the murder of his colleague. He had known all along there was something bad about Jed Abrams, and it was no surprise that it was child pornography.

  Sally was in the main office, taking a call from the front desk.

  ‘Boss, we’ve just been informed that Miles Westlake has escaped from hospital. In all the fuss over Grigor Pelakais, they didn’t notice he’d gone until the nurse went in to check on his drip.’ She listened again. ‘He could have been gone up to an hour.’ She put the phone down, ‘Do I put out a shout for him?’

  Dan stared at her. Could this case get any worse?

  ‘Just what we bloody need. He’ll probably go home. People generally do. Adam Foster and the Forensic guy are there at the moment going over his car, aren’t they?’ Sally nodded. ‘Get in touch and ask them to keep an eye out, and bring him in if they see him. And put out a general shout to detain and bring him in. If he’s fit enough to leave the hospital, he’s fit enough to come here and be charged.’

  ‘I’m more worried about him trying another suicide attempt before we get a chance to interrogate him,’ Sally said.

  ‘Well, I can’t worry about him at the moment. Get in to the Jamie May interview and see how things are going. DCS Oliver wants me in a meeting in a few minutes. I think we may be going after Jed Abrams and the Latvian gang.’

  Sally raised her eyebrows. ‘Action? Count me in, boss.’

  ‘Thrill-seeker. How’s Abrams been this morning?’

  ‘Complaining about everything. He’s just asked for a solicitor. Must have dawned on him that this might be serious. Ben’s with him now, listening to the complaints. We’ve got him until midnight tonight before we need to charge him, so I suggest we leave him to stew for a while and let his brief take the complaints.’

  ‘Fine. Try to find out what Jamie’s hiding, Sally. He finally seems to be talking, now that I’m not in the room. And interrupt my meeting if you have any news.’ He turned away then swung back. ‘Can you make sure Claire Quick gets home safely, too? I’ll be in Oliver’s office. Good luck.’ He smiled at her before striding towards the door.

  He felt a flutter of excitement in his gut as he headed up the stairs to the top floor. They were getting somewhere.

  A perk of Julie Oliver’s senior position was that she had room in her office for a conference table with ten seats. As the meeting began at 2.30 p.m., eight of them were occupied.

  Present in the room were DCI Tom Garrett and DS Duncan Lake, members of the Special Operations Armed Response team, DS Alison Yelland and DC Geoff Short from the Child Protection team, DS Carl Manley from Vice, DI Dan Hellier and Oliver’s secretary, Stella.

  Under guard, Grigor Pelakais sat on a chair outside the office in handcuffs, outwardly calm and composed, but inwardl
y panicking. He had no idea what was happening, but he could see that the people going into the room were not ordinary English Bobbies. They were going take notice of what he said, and for that, he was grateful, and hopeful.

  In the office, they all stood as John Pallister, Assistant Chief Constable in charge of Operational Resources, entered the room and took a seat. If there had been any doubt in Dan’s mind about the level of the meeting to which he had been called, he felt no doubt now. The big guns were out.

  Oliver summarised the conversation she’d had with Pelakais earlier in the afternoon. Dan found himself subject to close questioning about the events of the night before and Ian’s death. ACC Pallister’s jowly glare pierced Dan. He could see that the Chief was angry for the loss of his officer, but mostly, he suspected, for the expense he was about to agree to if they went ahead with Oliver’s plan.

  Grigor was called in to say what he knew. The films were made in the recording studio, but because of the Police interest, Irina had made him agree to do this one at Jed Abrams’ parents’ home on Church Hill, near Poltimore, on the outskirts of the city. The ‘actors’ would arrive early evening, and it would be over in time to get the children home before parents asked questions.

  Dan interrupted, ‘From my records, it appears that Abrams has a flat in the city. Would his parents agree to letting their house be used like this?’

  Pelakais raised his eyes to look at Dan. ‘The parents are away on holiday. They know nothing.’

  The Sergeant from the Child Protection team, Annie Yelland, asked if the children knew what they were going to do when they got there. Grigor could feel the tears welling up again. He looked at the floor when he answered, ‘Not at first. Irina gives them Ecstasy and alcohol and sweets, sometimes heroin, so they relax. Just tiny amounts at first, she is very skilled.

  ‘Some of the older ones help to find the younger ones. They want the money, the attention from the pretty lady. She makes them feel special. That what they are doing is right. And, of course, she gets me to take pictures of their families, as she has of mine. If they tell, she says she will kill their mother, or their father. It is simple. They come back again until they are too old and not needed anymore. By then they are ruined, or dead.’

  Grigor paused as he heard clothes rustling and felt the atmosphere in the room change. ‘By the time the filming starts, they are unable to put up a fight.’ He looked up and stared at Oliver. ‘It is very bad. I have been very bad to do this. It must be stopped. She must be stopped. Please.’

  ‘That’s what we’re here for, mate,’ put in the Vice Officer, Carl Manley, ‘and you are going to be stopped. Permanently, if I have anything to do with it.’

  Julie Oliver intervened. ‘Yes, thank you, DS Manley. Mr Pelakais is co-operating fully, so there’s no need to threaten him. This is not a Vice case. You’re here out of courtesy.’ The officer held his tongue, but the atmosphere in the room changed as she stared him out until he dropped his eyes. Keeping hold of this lot was going to be a challenge, she thought.

  The CP officer asked another question, ‘What about the adults in the films? Do you take those parts yourselves?’

  Grigor looked shocked. ‘No, I could never…’ he controlled himself. ‘No, they are friends of Abrams. They pay lots of money to Irina, and Abrams gets his share. They will arrive later, around 7.00pm, when the children are ready...’

  There was a hot, sick silence in the room. Dan wondered if the others felt like he did, that a swift left hook to the Latvian’s face when he was led from the room and seated back out in the corridor, would make him feel a whole lot better.

  ‘You do realise that if they’ve made twelve films, there are potentially dozens of abused children in the local area? Children who desperately need help, but are too frightened, or too messed up, to tell anyone.’ Oliver put her hands over her eyes.

  ‘Abrams uses his singing competitions as a front for grooming, doesn’t he?’ asked Dan. ‘All those youngsters keen to do anything he wants them to.’

  Pelakais nodded.

  Oliver’s mouth dropped. ‘The scale of this operation is shocking. But what’s more shocking is that we knew nothing about it. Nothing at all. How can that be?’

  ‘It’s a secretive world, Ma’am. Very few people manage to penetrate it, and with the rise in on-line porn, it’s even harder to track them down,’ said DS Yelland

  ‘Right. Dear God, I despair of humanity sometimes. Well, we know the time and place. Now we need to plan. Please escort Mr Pelakais outside, PC Short, and then come back in. We may need him later.’

  The ACC spoke before the door had even closed on Pelakais.

  ‘Superintendent, I shall expect your written strategy on my desk in an hour, before you do anything at all. Understand?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘You can have all the resources you need, but after last night’s fiasco, if we’re going to catch these bastards at it, it must be done by the book.’ He stood and moved towards the door, his eyes issuing a warning to Dan that his role would be “Advisory capacity only.”

  ‘Thank you,’ he said to the room, ‘don’t get up,’ and he was gone.

  Oliver suppressed a sigh of relief. At least they had convinced him it was a goer.

  ‘Right, ladies and gentlemen, as I said, we know where, and we know when. Let’s see if we can work out how to catch them. We have,’ she checked her watch, ‘two and three quarter hours to get into position, so don’t promise me what we can’t have, give me what you’ve got.

  ‘Dan, get your team organised. I want Uniforms and cars ready in one hour. Get Bill Larcombe onto it. Also, we need good quality maps of the house and surrounding area and Traffic need to arrange to block the road on my command. Straight back to me.’

  Dan strode from the room, heart hammering.

  ‘DCI Garrett, we need an Armed Response Vehicle and at least two long-distance rifle operatives.’ Garrett nodded once and took out his mobile phone as he and his Sergeant, Duncan Lake, moved to the rear of the room. Special Ops teams were always ready to be called for terrorist threats or major incidents such as this one. He just had to give the signal.

  ‘DS Yelland, I need a couple of people who can come with us tonight. We may have several traumatised children.’

  ‘That will be me and DC Short, Ma’am,’ replied Annie Yelland,indicating her companion, a broad, sandy-haired officer with a genial, open face. ‘We’re on duty. Just tell us where you want us.’

  ‘Ok.’ Oliver let out a long breath, aware that the decisions she made now were crucial. But that’s what they paid her for. She looked around the table and felt confident. It was a good team. ‘Let’s decide exactly how we’re going to do this.’ She turned to her secretary, who so far had stayed quietly in the corner.

  ‘Stella, we’ll need coffee and sandwiches, up here and in the Incident room, as soon as is humanly possible, please. Then I need you to write down everything I say during this planning session and use your magic to transcribe it into proper sentences for our Lord and Master up at the big house.’

  Stella smiled her assent, scuttled from the room and met a pink, puffing Bill Larcombe on the stairs, carrying an arm full of maps and print-outs.

  ‘All go round here, isn’t it?’ she said, and twinkled a smile at him as he gasped for breath on the landing.

  ‘I think I’m a bit past rushing about, Stella, to be honest, but I want the bastards who did this, so I’ll do whatever it takes, even if I have to shoot the buggers myself.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t think it’ll come to that, Bill, love. Madam’s got everyone running around and jumping when she squeaks in there.’ She cast a backward glance at the door. ‘Best get going, or I’ll be in trouble, too,’ she said and skipped down the stairs like a woman half her age.

  Chapter 34

  Date: Wednesday 26th April Time: 15:28 Miles Westlake

  The journey from the hospital felt much further than the couple of
miles it actually was. Miles felt weak and strangely light, like he had left most of his real body behind in the bed and had been left with the little bit of skin, flesh and bone he needed to complete his task before he could let it all go, forever. He struggled to focus, to bring himself back to the mundane task of placing one foot in front of the other.

  A group of children from the local primary school charged past him on their way home, laughing and giggling, and he had to lean against a wall until they had gone. They shouted at him, ‘Alright, mate? Had one too many, eh?’ and laughed in his face. Their noise was too much for him to bear. Pedestrians flashed him curious looks as they rushed past. His senses on fire, his skin hot to the touch, his eyes burning, Miles watched them go until there was some quiet once more.

  Clutching walls and hedges for support and ignoring the stares and comments, Miles Westlake stumbled onwards.

  PC Adam Foster was on the phone to DI Hellier. Westlake’s car was providing a wealth of evidence that Carly had been in it.

  ‘Sir, the Forensic guy has found long, dark hairs which might be Carly’s, and a whole pile of prints which are less helpful. Westlake’s wife is here and she’s blonde, so is the baby. I found her in the kitchen washing up. Forensics haven’t even started on the other rooms for evidence in the Claire Quick case, so I’ve banned her and told her to go back to her mum’s for the time being.’

  ‘OK, Adam, get her out of there as soon as you can. We’ll bring the car in for Forensics to have a go over. Any sign of Westlake himself?’

  ‘No, sir. He’d be a bit mad to show up here though, we have quite an audience in the street and there’s a fair bit of chat about what the local kids think happened. I reckon they’re getting pretty close, too. The kids knew he was having an affair with Carly, even if his wife didn’t.’