Dead of Night

by Deborah Lucy

  And yes, Temple had been expecting to do some kind of mass screening now they had isolated a DNA profile. But Buller was closing it down. They weren’t even going to bother running DNA tests on a number of drug dealers that Temple’s own enquiries had thrown up.

  Ignoring his warning, Temple left Buller’s office, went straight to the custody unit and picked up some DNA kits.

  Chapter 7

  Temple shook off the anger of his meeting and watched the video interview of Amy Davidson. He’d quickly briefed the two female detectives and they interviewed her in the company of her mother, Linda. At the start of the interview, they told Amy where the camera was and every now and then, Amy looked directly at it. He watched as Amy sat at a desk opposite the detectives, still in her uniform, with her mother beside her, telling them of her last sighting of China Lewis three days earlier.

  China had regular extended sleepovers at the Davidsons’ as the two girls were at school together. They had been friends since infant school and China was always welcome at the Davidsons’. Amy didn’t stay at China’s house as it was a chaotic household and Linda Davidson didn’t like Barbara Lewis on account of her drinking problem and lifestyle.

  Linda said that China didn’t say too much about things at home to her, but it was obvious to Temple that Amy knew much more than she let on to her mother. The reason China spent so much time at the Davidsons’ was because she hated going home. Amy said this was because of her brother, Gary Lewis.

  He had a nasty reputation in the community, she said. He was known to carry a knife and not be afraid to use it to protect himself and mete out summary punishments to anyone he thought crossed or slighted him. It was well known, she said, that he was a dealer who had graduated from selling drugs at school gates and street corners. She said that, from a young age, China had been used by Gary Lewis as a drugs mule, getting her to take ‘packages’ to people in and around Swindon, even sending her on trains when his dealing went further afield. As China got older and realised what it was that she was carrying, she refused to do it. Gary had to resort to threats and violence to make her do his bidding.

  Amy cited an occasion when China was eleven years old and had refused to take a package across town. She’d woken the next morning to find that Gary had entered her room during the night and had spitefully cut off her beautiful long hair, leaving it on the pillow. She had been distraught at this and had kept her hair cut short ever since. Amy told of how he would burn China’s arms with cigarettes and punch her so she did what he asked.

  She said China had felt protective towards her younger brother Tommy and had tried to look after him, as Barbara Lewis spent most days out of her head on vodka and cider cocktails. But China had lost the battle for influence with Tommy and he was rapidly heading the same way as Gary. This was when she started to have extended sleepovers at the Davidsons’. She liked it there. It was a proper home. Linda Davidson smiled at the compliment.

  Amy said that China would still ‘run errands’ for Gary but that she had become more secretive about what these were. Sometimes she would go and Amy would have no contact with her for twenty-four hours. She wouldn’t answer her phone or text messages. When she saw her again, it would take her a couple of days to get back to her ‘old self’, as if she’d been somewhere and it had taken its toll on her.

  She also said she smelt of chlorine when she returned. She told Amy that she couldn’t or wouldn’t take a bath at home, and would go to the local swimming baths as it was somewhere she could stay for hours and use their showering facilities.

  Rumour had it around Swindon that Gary Lewis had quietly managed to climb higher up the pecking order and was now making a lot of money. Asked if she knew anything about China being seen around Swindon, as Gary Lewis had told Temple, Amy was adamant that if anyone was going to see China, it would be her, and she hadn’t seen her. When asked if she knew about China taking money from Gary, she said she often took £10 or £20 from him for going on errands, but nothing larger.

  As Amy spoke of her friend’s hardships and abuse for the first time, she became increasingly angry and tearful. She was scared for China. She wasn’t answering her calls and this just wasn’t like her. The interview ended with her shouting at the police officers and looking directly into the camera, demanding to know what they were going to do to find her.

  Temple had already confirmed Gary Lewis had a conviction for drug dealing five years ago, but Amy alluded to much more than a one-time possession of drugs. And there’d been no fresh intel recorded on Lewis. How could all this be known about him on the streets and not be recorded on intel records? This was what happened, Temple concluded, when detectives became office-bound – there was no one out there walking amongst this lot, talking to them and bringing back the information.

  Temple recalled the lock he had seen on China’s bedroom door. He had no doubt that Amy knew exactly what China did when she went missing, and suspected Gary Lewis of more than using his sister as a runner. The condoms he’d found served the dual purpose of secreting the drugs, and going to the baths was probably her way of washing the filth off her. But if Amy had said as much in front of her mother, China probably wouldn’t be let through the door of the Davidsons’ again. Temple had to speak to Amy without her mother being present.

  The officers retrieved China’s mobile number from Amy’s phone. It matched the one Temple had got from Barbara Lewis. The poor kid was in deep and now no one seemed to know where she was.

  He looked through the command and control system on his computer. He scrolled through, making a list of teenagers who had been reported missing in the last few days in Swindon. China had been one of twenty-three reports of missing people in the last three days, ten of whom were of similar age. Four of the ten had returned home within one to two hours of being reported, a further three had returned home between two and three hours after the report. The other three reports were one male and two females, thirteen to fifteen years old, who had returned home between 10 p.m. and 1 a.m. in the morning.

  Temple made a note of their addresses, all local to Swindon, one of which was a children’s home. Checking their names, the girl from the children’s home, Molly Wicks, aged twelve, had been reported missing on nine previous occasions in the last few months. She was close to China in age and he had an idea she would be worth seeing, as she may know of China and her whereabouts, having been reported missing so frequently in Swindon.

  But speaking to Gary Lewis again was now his priority. He grabbed a set of handcuffs from his drawer. It was clear China was being exploited and he had to find her fast to get her the help she needed.

  Chapter 8

  Paul Wallace had had to look on a map to see exactly where Swindon was. He had arrived at Swindon railway station earlier that cloudy morning and had been walking around Old Town, trying to familiarise himself with the surroundings. He’d walked along Station Street and onto Corporation Street, looking at the various small businesses in jerry-built disparate-looking low-level buildings. The place seemed run-down, in a stuck-in-time sort of way. He then turned onto Fleming Way and eventually found himself in the Parade Shopping Centre.

  As he walked along, he tried to imagine Megon here and looked for her in the faces of the young girls that passed him. He heard the thick West Country lilt of their chatter as he walked close behind them, talking about their boyfriends, shopping, things he knew Megon would talk about and find interesting. He kept his ears open for any snippets that might help him track her down. They mentioned another shopping centre, the designer outlet – he would need to find that too.

  Like most teenage girls, Megon loved to shop, and if he were to see her anywhere, he knew it would be where shops were. He stopped himself thinking about where she might find the money to go shopping – she would probably be stealing, like Mitch had been back at King’s Cross station. Anything more than that he couldn’t contemplate. She was only thirteen and the thought of her having to fend for herself on the streets li
ke some kind of feral cat or dog, hurt him. What had they done as parents that was so bad that she would prefer running away and living on the streets to being at home with them? Suddenly, emotion caught in his throat and tears stung his eyes. That was how it crept up on him; one minute he was fine, the next he would have to wipe tears away.

  He was used to pounding the streets and covered a lot of ground in just a few hours. He walked through the Brunel Shopping Centre and across to the modern designer outlet, all the time looking around him, scanning faces, familiarising himself with the surroundings. He had run out of posters and would need to ask Missing People for more so that he could put them up around Swindon. But he was able to brandish a photo of Megon on his phone and he approached a number of shop assistants and security members asking if they had seen her. They hadn’t.

  He couldn’t stay in Swindon overnight. His return train ticket was timed for 8.20 p.m., and it would take just over an hour to get back to Paddington; this would give him time to get home and see the girls before they went to bed. The evenings had started to draw in early and it was dark by 5.30 p.m. He allowed himself to stop briefly for coffee in a small café; he couldn’t afford the likes of Caffè Nero or Starbucks. He’d be sitting down all the way home so he didn’t need to rest, he just needed a coffee to keep him going.

  Looking out the window of the café, Paul Wallace noticed how different the atmosphere was on the streets as soon as it went dark. It was the same in London. It was as if there was a shift in gear; the environment put on its evening face and changed pace. It was this time in the evening that he liked. The change in tempo from day to night recharged him; he felt the energy of the movement of the night-time economy, people going to and from the pubs, the clubs, the restaurants.

  Again, he felt that early evening was another time when he was likely to see Megon. It was funny and he couldn’t explain it, but he had a good feeling about Swindon. It was almost as if he could feel her, sense her near. He hadn’t felt that lately back home in London. It was almost as if she was calling to him, ‘I’m here, Dad, come and find me. Come and take me home.’ She had to be here.

  * * *

  Just across the town, Temple pulled up outside Gary Lewis’s two-bedroom luxury flat in Eastleaze. It was dark by now and the cold meant the street was quiet. Outside the communal entrance, Temple found the intercom and the flat number and kept his finger on the buzzer.

  ‘Who is it?’ came the gruff response.

  ‘Police, Gary. DI Temple – we met earlier. I need to speak to you.’

  ‘Fuck off, filth.’

  The intercom went dead. Temple applied the buzzer again.

  ‘I said fuck off.’

  ‘I’m not going away. If you don’t speak to me now, I’ll get on the radio and bring the response group down.’ Temple knew the shift was stretched to breaking tonight and that only two response cars were available for the whole of Swindon and outlying areas.

  There was no chance of them responding any time soon to any request he might make. He’d be lucky if they turned up within the hour for a shout for immediate assistance.

  ‘I’m trying to find China and I’m concerned for her safety. Now, you can do this nicely or I can get a van down here and we’ll take you in. They’ll be here in two minutes. Your choice.’

  ‘Wait.’

  Lewis left his flat and came out of the door of a communal hallway to meet Temple on the street outside. It was dark and the only light was from a street lamp across the road.

  ‘Make it quick,’ Lewis demanded. Temple was struck again by his rat-like features. He also adopted the same arrogant stance of looking at Temple with his head tilted back.

  ‘That’s not how this works, Gary. I need to find China and you told me that she had been seen by people. By who? I’ve only got your word. You haven’t seen her and can’t find her. So where is she?’

  ‘I told you she’s not missing. Are you fucking deaf or something? She stole money from me and she’s keeping her distance.’ Gary Lewis had to get rid of this cop. He didn’t want him turning up here and he wanted him off his back.

  ‘Who told you they’ve seen her? Give me their names, who are they?’

  ‘I can’t remember.’ Lewis was shifting on his feet.

  ‘I know you’re lying, so either you remember who told you she’s been seen, or what you said was a load of bullshit.’

  ‘I asked about, asked people if they’d seen her and they told me they had.’

  ‘So, who are the people? Names?’

  ‘No names, just lowlifes.’

  ‘When was the last time you saw China?’

  ‘Can’t remember. I’m going.’ This cop was now becoming a fucking nuisance.

  Temple ignored him and continued. ‘She was last seen three days ago. Did you send her on one of your errands?’

  Lewis momentarily looked down at the floor. He was sick of answering questions.

  ‘What’s happened to China, Gary?’

  ‘I don’t know. But you need to leave it alone. She’s not missing.’

  ‘I’m not going to stop looking for China until I find her. Have you got her in your flat?’ Temple could see Gary Lewis knew more than he was saying.

  ‘What? No. When I say I don’t know where she is, I’m telling you the fucking truth. Now, you need to leave it, filth. Go and investigate something else.’

  ‘Why do I need to leave it, Gary, eh? I found condoms in her bedroom, loads of them. Why would a fourteen-year-old need so many condoms? What errand did you send her on? She hasn’t come back, has she? You’ve sent her off with a load of drugs and you’ve lost her. You’re pimping her too, aren’t you? She’s your mule, isn’t she? Got her on crack too, have you, Gary? You’re coming to the station with me.’

  ‘I’m going nowhere, you fucker.’ Lewis moved swiftly, putting his hands behind him and swinging them back round.

  Suddenly, Temple saw the flash of a long blade with a curved end and instinctively jumped away. Lewis was waving the long-bladed knife in his direction and as Temple held his hands out in a bid to keep him at a distance, the curved edge sliced into one of Temple’s fingers. The pain of it made him take a leap back.

  With Temple distracted, Lewis fled, running down the road. Temple wondered what had happened and with a stinging injury to his finger, he was suddenly dripping blood all over the pavement. He instinctively clamped his fingers around the source of the pain. Looking on the pavement and satisfied that he wasn’t missing part of his finger, he berated himself for letting it happen.

  He couldn’t understand where the blade had come from. Where the fuck had he been hiding that? His hand quickly filled with blood as his fingers failed to stem the bleeding. Holding his hand out away from him, Temple went back to the unmarked police car under the street light. Standing by the side of the car, Temple held out his right hand to look at it. There was a deep slice down the middle finger. With his left hand, he pulled at his clip-on tie and wrapped it tightly around his injury. He then contacted the control room and asked for obs to be put out for Gary Lewis for his immediate arrest for assaulting a police officer.

  Chapter 9

  It was imperative that Brian Porten kept the slaughterhouse meticulously clean. Not least for public health reasons and to increase the length between visits from the Food Standards Agency. He liked cleanliness. Cleanliness and order. Porten & Sons was a small but long-established concern, where he’d started as an apprentice to his cousin Tom, a small, older man who, in hindsight, was a lot like himself. He’d taught Brian all he knew, and as Tom was the last of the ‘Sons’, he had been pleased to have Brian alongside him.

  A loner, old Tom had taken him under his wing when Brian’s mother had asked Tom to find him a job at the abattoir. They’d worked together for years before Tom’s death three years ago at the age of sixty-nine. At the time, Tom had recognised a lot of himself in the lad; Brian wasn’t stupid, he just wasn’t a socialiser.

  Like Brian, Tom hadn’t
been much of a talker, but they both shared an interest in what was in the news and what was around them. When Brian’s mother died, it was Tom who quietly organised him, moved Brian in to share his two-bedroom bungalow not far from the abattoir. They’d lived there together for years. Yes, Tom had looked after him, and but for the twenty-year gap in their ages, they could have been brothers. So they had lived together and worked together and had never really had a cross word between them either.

  When Tom died, Brian took it hard. The business hadn’t been the same since; it wasn’t the same without Tom. It couldn’t be. He missed Tom dreadfully, missed his steadying influence, and since then he had withdrawn more into himself. Into his project.

  Brian had had to reduce the workload; there was only so much one person could do, and without Tom, he had to acknowledge his heart wasn’t in it to the same degree. Killing days were now just once a week, on a Tuesday. That meant he only had to have a vet and inspector on site for one day and so everyone knew Tuesday was when they brought their animals. It kept things simple and allowed him to focus more on the task at hand.

  The last FSA inspection had been a month ago – that’s why now was a good time to take some more people off the streets because they wouldn’t do an unannounced visit in such close proximity to the last inspection. No, he knew he would have a good run now. And he had to be careful. The reason he had removed so many already so successfully was because he was careful.

  That and the fact that nobody actually missed these people. Who would? Who would miss a beggar? No one. They were a public nuisance. The more he could get off the streets, the better society was for it. But for every one he removed, it seemed another took their place. That’s why he had to keep going until that stopped. It had to stop. His heart started to pound in his chest.

  He decided he would try again tonight. One more homeless person should do it, then he could release the meat to his customers.