Anna pictured Dave’s smiling face. In many ways she hoped she would not be shown a photograph of him. From her point of view, he was a nice man who had helped her get into England. He would not be involved in Rashida’s murder, she was sure of it. Ken on the other hand, she hoped very much to be shown his photograph. He was a nasty man.
It took ninety-five minutes for Anna to tell her story in the detail DC Armstrong was looking for. Afterwards, Armstrong took her to the canteen and bought her a cup of coffee and a doughnut. And then it was back to the room to look at the photographs.
It was lunchtime when Anna emerged from that room with blurry eyes that were struggling to focus on distant objects. There were a few mug-shots that could have been Dave, and a lot that could have been Ken, but she was unable to identify either of them with an appropriate degree of certainty. Anna had asked how many men called Ken lived in Glasgow and worked in London, but was told it was probably not his real name. DC Armstrong was not a happy lady, but she remained professional throughout.
Collins and Doyle arrived in Harringay an hour before Dr Askew’s surgery was due to start.
“Hello, madam. You spoke with my colleague yesterday.”
The receptionist stopped halfway through tapping in a number and replaced the telephone into its cradle. “I thought the door was locked.”
“I don’t think it was,” smiled Collins. “Was it locked DI Doyle?”
“No, sir, definitely not.” He slid the old credit card back into his wallet.
“Did you lock it behind you?”
“It locked itself I think,” replied Collins.
“So gentlemen, how can I help you?”
“Perhaps you could tell me about your special surgery on Wednesday nights.”
“They are not my special surgeries. They are Dr Askew’s surgeries. And I would like to remind you that it was I who gave the other detective the name of a Rashida who has attended it on two occasions.”
“Does he tend to take longer with the female patients than the male ones?”
“No, most appointments are a strict ten minutes, unless a patient requests a double appointment. Five minutes for morning emergencies, or should I say, what patients call emergencies.”
“I am referring to Wednesday nights.”
“I cannot help you there. Dr Askew does those totally on his own.”
“Can I mention something to you madam? You are in the habit of making appointments for the unofficial Wednesday night surgery. You are in this up to your neck.”
“Then so be it. God will forgive me. Are you suggesting we should leave those poor people without medical care?”
Anna’s image shot into his mind. “And would God forgive you for how much you charge these ‘poor’ people.”
“I beg your pardon. It is entirely a charitable action on behalf of Dr Askew and myself. All we are guilty of is not reporting them.”
“Are you serious?”
“Where did you get the idea that they were charged from?”
“I got it from one of your Wednesday night patients.”
“No, I do not believe you. Dr Askew is a kind charitable man. We use the money from the charity box to pay for their medicine.” Her eyes settled on a ‘guide dogs for the blind’ charity tin. “It is a bit misleading I know, but it goes to a good cause.”
“You are about to find out different. Dr Askew is still due to take his afternoon surgery, I take it?”
“His first appointment is at fourteen hundred hours, yes.”
“When do you expect him to arrive?”
“He will be here at thirteen-fifty-five.”
“He takes his work seriously then?”
“Dr Askew is paid for his intelligence, knowledge and skill, not the number of hours he works.”
“Did he spend last night in your bed?”
“I beg your pardon.” She turned bright red and fiddled with a bunch of keys on her desk.
“I will take that as a yes. Now, cancel his first six appointments, and be ready to cancel the rest.”
“I am not sure I like your tone.”
“I am a detective chief inspector, not a singer. DI Doyle, I am going to wait over there and make a few calls. Would you mind grabbing a chair and joining this lady behind the desk. Make sure she doesn’t contact Dr Askew in any way: text message, email, telephone, or carrier pigeon.”
“My pleasure, sir.”
“Sorry Freddy, they would not let me contact you.”
“Who are these people?”
“DCI Collins and this is DI Doyle. We are with the Metropolitan police. Now sir, I was going to talk to you here, but maybe it is better that you keep your coat on.”
“Can you explain what is going on?”
“Okay sir, let me outline the basics. You run a surgery for illegal immigrants on Wednesday evenings.”
“I do, and I knew I would have to explain myself one day. They suffer many anguishes, I see no reason why they should suffer with their health as well. I do what I can for them.”
“And how do you think they find the money to pay your extortionate fees?”
He looked over to his receptionist.
“We have a witness who has told us all about your operation. And just to let you know, I plan to park a DC outside this building next Wednesday night, to round up a few more witnesses.
“Freddy, tell me this is not true.” The receptionist looked genuinely horrified.
He did not reply.
“Now the other thing is; one of these patients is called Rashida. My guess is that it will be the same Rashida that is lying in a Bedfordshire mortuary.”
“Rashida is dead?”
“Murdered, Dr Askew, murdered.”
“Oh, no, I can explain. That has absolutely nothing to do with me.” He looked over to the reception desk. “I am so sorry.”
“Shall we go, sir?”
“Yes, I understand now. You may want to seize my car as well.”
“You are ahead of me, sir.”
“The Rashida I know has been in my car on a number of occasions. I don’t want to hide anything from you.”
“Do you have a diary?”
“I have a Blackberry in my bag. Am I going to have to account for my movements?”
“Indeed you are, indeed you are.”
“Okay Dr Askew, let’s see if we can unravel the truth. The primary reason for interviewing you today is in relation to the death of Rashida Nehme, but the tape may be used in evidence against you on other matters. Do you understand that?”
Dr Askew turned towards his solicitor, who nodded his way. “I understand.”
“Can I start by asking you to confirm this is the same woman who attended your surgery?” He took a digitally cleaned up photo of Rashida out of a folder and placed it in front of Askew.
Askew’s tongue curled up round his top lip. “Yes, that is Rashida. Which also means you will find forensic evidence from her in my car.”
“Do you drive any other vehicles, other than your Volvo?”
“No, I have always bought Volvos.”
“Have you hired another vehicle in the last two weeks?”
“No, I have not.”
“Can you tell me your whereabouts last Wednesday and Thursday?”
He breathed out heavily. “Last Wednesday morning I had breakfast with Mrs Watts, my receptionist.”
“Was this at her house?”
“It was, yes. And to help you understand, her husband spends a lot of time in China. His company are trying to establish themselves there.”
“Carry on.”
“After breakfast we both travelled by bus to the surgery. I covered the morning emergency surgery and an additional hour between eleven-thirty and twelve-thirty. I am sure Mrs Watts will be able to give you a list of the patients I saw. If you contact them, they will confirm what I have told you.”
“Give me a moment. What did I do in the afternoon? I think it was Wednesday that I did my weekly sh
op at Sainsbury’s. Yes it was. I always pay cash but my Nectar card will have been swiped, and no doubt the receipt is in the bottom of a bag at home somewhere. And in the evening, well, you know what I do on Wednesday evenings.”
“For the benefit of the tape please.”
“Last Wednesday evening I conducted my unofficial surgery between six o’clock and eight o’clock. Again, I am sure you can check this with some of my patients. After evening surgery, I had two pints in the Badger’s Tale, tale as in story. And then I walked home and watched a bit of a video.”
“Dr Reynolds covered emergencies on Thursday, he always does Thursdays. I will have done a bit of tidying and the like, had some lunch, and gone into work for the afternoon surgery. Two until six, that one is a real killer. Mrs Watts and I then went to Pizza Express for a bite to eat, and back to her house for coffee.”
“Please explain what you mean by coffee. For the tape please, Dr Askew.”
“We had sex and then I went home. I can’t be sure, but I may have watched the BBC news before going to bed. Yes I did, that was the first day of the Test Match wasn’t it?”
“Can I also add; my Blackberry is yours to analyse as you wish.” He slid it across the table. “You will find I regularly logged on to my Facebook page to pick up and send messages. I assume you can follow my movements around North London from those. They will fit in with what I have just told you.”
Collins had more or less ruled him out already, but had to complete the job. “When did you first meet Rashida?”
“Probably three months ago, maybe not quite that long.” He then went quiet.
“Where did you meet her?” Collins prodded him along.
“I met her at the surgery, on a Wednesday night.”
“It would help if you just told me, rather than me having to keep asking.”
“She was in a bad way as a result of her journey. Dehydrated, stomach cramps, vomiting, diarrhoea, early signs of eczema. She needed a course of injections and would not let me do a home visit. We met in my car. I gave her the injections in there.”
“Did she pay you for these injections?”
“The look in your eyes tells me you know the answer to that question.”
“I think I do, but I would like you to tell me.”
“Despite what I have done, I do not like to see people suffer, particularly women. Women have always been my downfall. I treated her free of charge at first, but the third time we met, about two weeks later, it was obvious to me she had come into a little bit of money. It was also obvious where she was getting it from. She paid me in kind.”
Collins breathed in sharply.
“Rashida gave me a blowjob, in my car. After that…”
“Please continue, Dr Askew?”
“I paid her for sex. I am not a well man, I’m addicted. I blame my job.”
Collins exchanged glances with Doyle before speaking. “Go on.”
“People like Mrs Watts think being a doctor is such a glamorous job, a pillar of the community, and such like. In truth, it is exceedingly boring, or I find it so anyway. I don’t know how many times I must have explained to patients, you can’t treat viral infections with antibiotics. And maybe I am getting too old, but pregnant women and young children, well I don’t know. They all think they are so special, but the reality is, they are so routine, so boring. Anything remotely interesting that comes along; you have to refer straight to a hospital. And the way things are nowadays, I have to have my patients in and out in five minutes, ten minutes tops. It’s like a bloody conveyor belt.”
“You don’t enjoy your work then?”
“It depresses me. That is why I wanted to reduce my hours. When the opportunity to share a one-room surgery with Dr Reynolds came my way, I jumped at the chance. Inevitably the money got tight, but Wednesdays bridge the gap for me a bit. I still find it depressing though, I take more pills than half my patients do. Sex is an escape for me. It is the only thrill I get in my otherwise boring life. That is why I paid Rashida for cheap thrills. That is why I have sex with the likes of Mrs Watts. She is not a particularly attractive woman as you can see, but she puts it on a plate. I am a sex addict. I can’t turn my back on it. I am habitually checking my Facebook messages. I promise you, I will get help. I know I need a counsellor.”
“Where did this sex take place? Did you eventually visit either Rashida’s home or her place of work?”
“No, I got my cheap thrills late at night in supermarket car parks, dark lanes and even on a brightly lit residential estate at one in the morning.”
“You must have had a method of contacting Rashida.”
“Well, of course, we used our mobiles.”
“By mobile, you mean this Blackberry?”
“Yes, Rashida’s number is in there under ‘dirty cleaners’.”
“Dirty cleaners?”
“I know I’m pathetic. I didn’t want to make it obvious if I left my Blackberry somewhere, so I saved Rashida’s number under ‘dirty cleaners.’ Originally it was ‘dry cleaners’, but then I amused myself by adding the extra two letters. That’s how bloody bored I get.”
“If we assume you were in no way connected with Rashida’s murder, have you any idea where we should look?”
“No, I don’t think so. No, I definitely have no idea.”
“Somebody must send the illegal immigrants your way.”
“Oh, I see how your mind is working. It wasn’t like that. A few turned up a number of years ago. At first we sent them away. Eventually Mrs Watts’ conscience got the better of her, and I agreed to see the odd severe case after hours. It sort of grew by word of mouth from there. They may not pay taxes, but a lot of them are not short of a few bob.”
“And it provided you with a tax free revenue stream?”
“I pay enough tax one way or the other.”
“And it also fed your little penchant for looking at young, naked women, in the flesh rather than on a computer screen.”
“I have dealt with that problem.”
“But maybe replaced it with another?”
“That may well be true, but not in my surgery.”
“I have a witness who has a different view on such matters.”
“Well, I deny any such accusation. False accusations are not uncommon in my profession.”
The solicitor intervened. “DCI Collins, if you are accusing my client of improper conduct, then would you do so less obliquely.”
“I would like you to remain in custody pending further investigations.”
“DCI Collins, you cannot possibly hold my client on a charge of tax evasion, a charge that you have not yet brought.”
“Tax evasion is not my thing. I am more into having forensics check his car for blood, or other forensic evidence that does not fit with your client’s version of events. I also happen to be more interested in potential sexual assault charges. One allegation has already been made; maybe others will follow if we dig a bit deeper. Shall we leave it at helping us with our enquiries for now?”
“How long will I need to stay?” asked Askew.
“As long as it takes.”
“Okay. Is there any chance of a cup of tea and a cheese sandwich?”
“The tea is good. The cheese sandwich will come with cheap mayo and tasteless tomato in it.”
“Just a tea then.”
“Chas, you can work these things better than I can. Find the number for ‘dirty cleaners’ for me.”
“Give us it here, sir.” He took hold of Askew’s Blackberry. “Dirty cleaners… Here you are. Should I call it?”
“Why not? If it has been passed on to another Tom, book yourself an appointment.”
“Are you serious?”
“Of course I am. You can make your excuses and leave before you catch anything, but I would love to know where Rashida plied her trade and who her pimp was. In case you don’t realise it, we are on the verge of tracking down a serial killer here, and bringing down a trafficking empire whil
e we’re at it.”
Harrington pressed a button and put the phone to his ear. “It doesn’t sound promising, sir. No, it’s saying the number is unavailable.”
“Ah well, it was worth a try. It’s probably in the bottom of a river by now. Take that thing down to Louise for me. I want a print out of every phone call, email, text message, well, everything it has done in the last four weeks. And I also want to know where it has been. And I want everything there is to know about that ‘dirty cleaners’ number.”
“I get the general idea, sir.”
“Well, get to it.”
“How long do you think it will take?”
“I don’t know, Anna. I doubt the police will know either. Don’t worry about it though. You can stay here for as long as it takes.”
“I thought I was going home.”
“You will be going home, babe. Just not next week, that’s all. My advice is to enjoy London while you can. I can give you an allowance of four hundred a week, and free board and lodgings for at least five more weeks. Enjoy it, that’s what I say.”
“You must not give me your money.”
“Half of it is yours.” Jonathan lifted a beer can to his mouth.
“I have no money.”
“You do now. Well, five grand max.”
“You are like the man in your Batman film.”
“The Riddler?”
“Yes, the Riddler.”
“It’s time to come clean Anna, but please don’t get upset. Kevin donated five grand to your repatriation fund, and five grand to my expenses account. The two gorillas cost a pony each, and then there was the cost of hiring the car.”
“Kevin gave us money?”
“Well, perhaps ‘gave’ is not quite the correct word. Perhaps it’s best to describe it as an insurance investment, but keep it under your hat. Whatever you do, don’t mention it to your copper friends.”
“Jonathan, you are a good man. But I think sometimes you are a bad man.”
“A Robin Hood, that’s how I like to think of myself.”
“Robin Hood was a good man.”
Down in the Woods Page 26