by Jay Nadal
Johnny: Just seeing
Lucy: I know but I’m still a child and ur an adult, is that ok?
Scott had read enough.
“That’s quite a telling conversation,” he said reading that short extract again. “Any feedback on the IP address Johnny was using.”
Tim shook his head, “I’m afraid not, I’m still looking into it but from what I can see, multiple IP addresses are used.”
“Meaning?”
“Well it’s quite possible that Johnny was tapping into Wi-Fi hotspots, so he wasn’t static in one place. Each and every time you log into a laptop or PC, your internet service provider gives you a one off IP address which they call a dynamic IP address.”
“Any facials stored on the computer?”
With a shrug, “No. A few pictures on male genitals, female breasts, and harmless pictures of lots of teens hanging out together in and out of school. Most are mobile phone downloads but nothing else. If you were hoping for a facial shot, your man was too clever.”
“Anything on the second laptop that corresponds with the first?”
“Sorry, there’s nothing on there at all in relation to online chat histories, images, emails nothing, it’s as clean as a whistle. It’s got the usual stuff on there like web page history of sites like pornhub, but the pages he visited were not teen related, it was stuff that most men look at.”
That wasn’t what Scott wanted to hear. He desperately needed to prove in his own mind that the Johnny in this online conversation was the same Johnny that they had in the custody suite downstairs. “Okay keep me posted if you extract more information.”
With that, Tim turned back to his workstation, and busily scanned through a page of what looked like numbers to Scott. No doubt, they meant something far more interesting to those more IT savvy.
***
Scott sat at his desk sipping more stagnant coffee as the evening wore on. He couldn’t understand why he kept helping himself to the station coffee machine when it produced pond water in his opinion. His mouth felt dry through lack of water. He had been on the go constantly and hadn’t had time for a bottle of water on his travels. If he were to grab a quick run on the seafront later, he’d need some fluids soon and need them quick, as the first signs of a headache were fast looming.
The cases were bothering Scott for multiple reasons. He hated loose ends. His job was to gather evidence and tie up those loose ends. It was the legwork in-between that frustrated him more than anything else. On a notepad, he’d sketched out the case, the names of the girls, the names of those arrested, he was busily making connections between them all. There were still a few pieces of the jigsaw missing. He was sure they had taken out a few key players in the ring, but the ringleader, Korab Gashi was unaccounted for.
More importantly, Rishi Mehta was still out there somewhere, and who knows what condition she was in. Had she endured the same fate as Sabina or Kelly? What stage of the process was she at? Were they too late? Was it a matter of finding her body? He stared blankly at his screen and accepted the possibility that a few others were still unaccounted for. The sad fact was he was no nearer to finding them. He needed to lean on those he already had in custody. He was certain that Renshaw knew nothing more, Gashi wasn’t about to squeal on his brother. Intelligence from other cities had drawn a blank, which left another weak link in the chain … Johnny Wright.
Now there was a new stream to his investigation, Lucy and Christine Newland.
Was Johnny grooming Lucy, or was the name a coincidence. Did Christine meet her fate at the hands of Johnny?
He shook his head; Johnny needed to be his next port of call.
Chapter 18
Scott was just about to head back into the interview suite to grill Johnny again when Raj raced towards him along the corridor. The day had been a long one. Scott paused for a moment. The incessant last few days beginning to take their toll as he leant against the wall outside the suite, tiredness kept at bay by adrenaline that spurred him on. “What’s up?”
“Just had a call from uniform. They stopped a blue Fiat Ducato van on a routine pull for a broken tail light, which turned out to have defective tyres too.”
“That’s a traffic offence, what’s that to do with us?”
“It’s not the van that’s of interest to us Guv, it’s what they found inside that is, and who was driving it.”
Scott shot him a curious look.
“It’s Robert Shaw. Uniform could smell cannabis on him and inside the cab of the van, so they searched it. Officers called us in when they found a bloodied chair leg in the back, and what appears to be bloodstained towels and blankets.”
“Human blood?”
“Don’t know, Guv. The van’s been impounded and they’re awaiting other officers, the van and driver are coming back here.”
“Okay, keep me posted, I’m just about to have a quick chat with our man Johnny, but get SOCO on standby, and have a look over the contents when it arrives here.”
With that, Raj was off again, excited at getting stuck into some action rather than being the officer tasked with manning the phones, which he always seemed to end up doing.
Although he’d spent time in a small cell with just himself for company and time to contemplate the charges brought against him, Johnny Wright appeared unaffected, maintaining an unfaltering cool, calm exterior as he sat opposite Scott, a duty solicitor the only other person present.
Scott took a moment to observe Wright. He was leaning back in his chair, his arms draped by his side, nonchalantly slouched low as so many of his generation would do in normal circumstances. Scott thought he was a superb actor or just plain stupid.
“Johnny, we need your help,” Scott started, “We’ve got at least one girl missing and we need to find her. Do you have any idea where Ardit could be keeping her or any other girls?”
A derisory smile broke slowly as Johnny sat up his chair. Locking both hands and resting them on the table, he paused, looked up at the ceiling and then replied, “Now why would I want to help the filth?”
“Because there’s a young girl missing, she has a family, a mother and father who want her back.” Scott knew that probably wasn’t the case, but he needed to try any angle to get the information he needed.
A slow sarcastic shake of the head was the only response Wright offered willingly.
“Johnny, there’s nothing left now, everyone in the ring is under arrest. Renshaw is in another room singing his heart out. He’s dropping you all in it. There is no loyalty; it's every man for himself. He knows that helping us now could work in his favour with a lighter sentence in the long run.” Scott let that hang in the air as he twiddled a pen around his fingers.
Johnny shrugged, silence in the room leading to a tense standoff as the day-to-day noise of station banter and footsteps in the corridor permeated the room.
“Jenna loves you, you do know that?”
The change in direction caused a flicker in Johnny’s eyes. She was just another pawn in a game, a vile business, but perhaps Jenna was different, did he like her, or was she unfinished business. “Give her some closure; let her get on with her life.”
“Oh don’t worry, she’ll get closure alright, sooner than she thinks,” Johnny fired back, his face animated for the first time during this interview.
“What does that mean? Is she in danger? If she meant anything to you, now’s the time to man up.”
Johnny seemed to realise the fruitlessness of his defence. He looked down at the table, in deep thought, no doubt having an internal duel. The realisation dawned on him; he was trapped between the devil and the deep blue sea.
His shoulders drooped. “Listen, all I know is that they used to keep the girls at an address in Twyford Road and exchanges took place in Freshfield Way. The next swap is within the next two days. That is all I know. The less I know the better.”
Scott breathed a sigh of relief, “You did the right thing.”
***
Twyford R
oad was situated on the northern most reaches of Brighton, close to the University of Brighton Halls of Residence in Stanmer. From the outside, the inconspicuous address offered no hint to its real identity as a holding house for girls trafficked and forced into prostitution. A generic semi-detached house, blended into the background, offering no cause for concern with the neighbours.
Scott knew the area well having stayed at the Varley Halls of Residence whilst studying at the University. The halls weren’t far from the location they were heading to.
Scott and Abby together with the tactical entry team approached the house at speed, screeching to a halt in the evening darkness. Ten pairs of boots bailed out, thundering along the pavement.
The door offered little resistance as it yielded to the mighty red enforcer being carried by a large uniformed officer. He quickly moved to one side as the remaining officers raced in shouting, “Police! Stay where you are.” A cacophony of sounds echoed through the house and out onto the street alerting the neighbours, bringing them out, curiosity getting the better of them.
As the officers raced from each room to the next, illumination from their large torchlights cast ghoulish shadows that bounced off the walls. It soon became clear to Scott that they were too late. The property was unfurnished apart from one front room that had four make shift mattresses haphazardly arranged on the floor with loose and dirty bed coverings. Temporary floral curtains hung from the wall shielding the outside world, empty pot noodle cartons strewed the kitchen floor.
“They lived in pretty basic conditions, Guv,” Abby said as she joined his side.
“Hmm.”
“The kettle is still warm, so someone was here until recently.”
Chapter 19
Scott was enjoying an early run along the seafront. The morning sun was still hiding behind thin, wispy cirrus cloud, leaving coolness in the air. A low hum of busy commuter traffic along the Kingsway drowned out by the sound of music pumping through his headphones as he made his way back from Palace Pier. The demands of the job, and irregular hours took precedence, making it increasingly difficult to switch off and enjoy the down time. He relished these moments.
With a cool breeze on his face, the repetitive beat of his feet pounding the pavement reverberating through his body, the tension drained from every pore.
He’d grabbed a couple of chicken shish takeaways last night, after Cara had called him late, asking if he fancied company, an offer he didn’t hesitate to accept. Despite the lateness, they’d enjoyed their meal amidst an atmosphere of slight coyness after their night together. Their hunger for each other led to passionate lovemaking right there on the dining table, before they both collapsed in bed, falling asleep in each other’s arms in a matter of moments.
A smile broke on his face as he recalled the uninhibited and spontaneous moment between them. The fact that they’d had little opportunity to undress made the moment even more intense. He felt alive and excited at the prospect of seeing more of her. She had offered to keep the bed warm for him on his return, which he had begrudgingly declined, with a promise of holding her to it next time.
Scott’s moment of freedom was interrupted by an incoming call. He glanced at the screen belted to his bicep as he slowed his pace to a gentle jog. It was Abby. Stopping by the side and perching one heel on the promenade railings to stretch his hamstring, he answered.
“Can’t you survive one morning without me?” he teased.
“In your dreams,” she said, before her tone changed. “It’s Jenna Wade… she’s been abducted this morning leaving Benedicts on her way to school, She was bundled into a car.”
“Pick me up from mine in fifteen minutes,” he replied with a sense of urgency in his voice.
***
As Abby pulled up at the unit, Scott has wished he had driven. Abby seemed to have missed vital parts of the Highway Code if her driving was anything to go by. “Remind me to drive next time,” he insisted. Abby casting him one of her piercing glares.
“You have as much road sense as a blindfolded tortoise. A passenger in your car needs to take out extra life insurance,” she said casting him a disparaging look.
“Less of that Sergeant, don’t forget I’m still your boss!” he shouted back as she walked off ahead of him.
Abby knew she’d wound him up. He hated being criticised for his driving as most men did. Even though it was harmless banter between them, she smiled to herself knowing she’d chalked one up over him.
They found Jean Temple, the residential unit manager, being tended to for a minor head injury in the back of an ambulance.
Scott rested one foot on the footplate at the rear of the ambulance. “Are you okay, Mrs Temple?”
“Yes, I’ll live,” she replied a little shakily.
“What happened?”
“When I last looked, Jenna was outside having a cigarette. I was in the office. I heard some shouting and a few screams. By the time I ran outside, she was already being bundled into a car by two men. I tried to intervene but one of the guys punched me and pushed me to the floor. I tried to stop them but the driver just sped off and caught me with the wing mirror.”
“Any idea on the car?” Abby asked as she was making notes.
Jean Temple grimaced as a sharp pain shot through her side, “It was a dark Audi, that’s all I can remember, it happened so quickly.”
Scott nodded in sympathy. “What did the men look like?”
Jean paused for a moment trying hard to stir her memory into action. “They were darker in appearance, certainly not English by the way they were shouting, more foreign sounding.”
Scott and Abby exchanged a nervous glance.
“Okay that’s helpful, anything else?”
“Jenna was screaming what’s going on, she was trying to resist, but they were dragging her into the car, she said where are you taking me?
“And what did he say?”
“One of the men just said he would get rid of her.”
***
Scott rallied the team together in the briefing room as a matter of urgency. “We’ve got a situation. Jenna Wade was abducted this morning. From the witness statement, there’s a suggestion that some harm will come to her. It’s a priority to locate her. I’ve got extra uniformed patrols combing the area for a dark car, possibly an Audi.”
Sian interrupted having just put down her phone, “Guv, Murat Ahmeti whom the Manchester officers have identified as the ring leader has disappeared off the radar and gone to ground. Local intelligence suggests he’s on his way down to Brighton to do a swap. We’ve got no idea how many girls are with him or whether a swap will actually take place. For all we know he could be heading up the A23 into London. Or even meeting halfway somewhere. Perhaps Jenna’s earmarked for the swap?”
Mike nodded, “What better way of getting rid of her than switching her with the gang in Manchester, by the time she gets up there, she’s indoctrinated.”
Scott paused as he looked at the whiteboard. Jenna Wade’s piercing light blue eyes and jet black hair hauntingly stared back at him. He knew that time was fast running out for her. He was annoyed with himself. They should have placed her in a more secure accommodation. He’d fucked up for not taking the threat to her seriously enough. Was she going to pay the price for his misjudgement?
“Yes, but why Jenna, though, she’s not far enough down the process. Why take her before she’s ready?” Raj questioned.
“Because she’s a liability, Johnny said as much in the interview. Or maybe Ardit Gashi’s associates needs to take an extra girl because we’ve rescued two other girls at the property.”
“But if you know we’re on to you, why go ahead with the swap?”
“From his record, the character in Manchester is a serious player. The Brighton connection wouldn’t want to let him down or get on the wrong side of him. Maybe it’s too late to call it off?” Scott concluded.
“So what next, Guv?” Mike asked.
“I wish I knew … we
play a waiting game now. Johnny gave us a location for where swaps have taken place before. We stake out that location.”
***
Abby stood in the corridor; she’d stopped on the way to her desk … troubled deeply by her dark thoughts. Scott caught up with her, grabbing her arm.
“Abby, you okay?”
“Can’t believe she’s still just a kid. It’s like she’s lived her whole life already,” she said harshly. Abby was fighting to control the anger simmering inside, feeling her own frustration that she’d let Jenna down.
“Listen, you couldn’t have done anything more, this isn’t your fault. You brought her in, you tried to warn her off …”
Abby cut him off, “Yes, but I didn’t try hard enough.”
“Listen, Johnny did a good job on her. He made her fall in love. He showed her affection and approval that she never had before from anyone else. Jenna’s fourteen, and she thought this cool eighteen-year-old with cash and charm who could have been with anyone, wanted her. You can’t compete with that.”
Abby shrugged knowing he was right. Scott was always right.
“I wish I could have shown her where it was all heading. Maybe we needed to go a little heavier on Jenna. Nothing horrible, but we should have made her see how it ends, we needed to show her what happened to Libby Stephens. Maybe that could have got through to her.”
“Hindsight is a wonderful thing Abby, but we don’t have time to do the what ifs.”
***
By the time Scott had briefed the DCI and got back to his desk, an email from forensics turned the screw even further. Opening the email and reading the contents, Scott sat back in his chair, a mixture of relief and sadness washing over him as he read one important line.
The laboratory analysis on blood samples found on the cellar floor in the Unicorn pub and the traces of blood on one pair of pliers found in the same location match those of Libby Stephens.
Chapter 20
Scott was encouraged by recent developments, feeling the boost he needed to keep pushing, to keep seeking justice. He finally felt closer to wrapping up the Libby Stephens case. The vile crimes committed against her in the final few hours of her life had become clear. He was desperately hoping against all odds that her death had been quick, just to ease his own conscience. However, with the evidence staring back at him from the computer screen, his hopes had faded into a dark quagmire.