The Lies They Told

by Jay Nadal

  Karen began by explaining how she and Jade had reviewed CCTV footage of the Copthorne estate, and how they had witnessed a serious altercation between Darren Finch and Jack Taylor just hours before Taylor’s murder. She went on to explain how Finch and his gang had met less than an hour prior to when Taylor had been murdered, continuing to add that the very same group returned shortly after that two-hour window.

  “We know from past intelligence that Finch and his gang have used violence and firearms, and it’s highly likely that Finch may still be in possession of a firearm. We need to bring Finch in for questioning in relation to the assault and see if he can shed any light on why Taylor may have been murdered.”

  Brad waved his pen in the air. “Boss, can we assume that Finch may have had wanted revenge for being attacked by Taylor?”

  Karen nodded. “We can’t be certain, but it’s plausible. And I think it’s worth giving Finch a tug to see what the scrote has to say.”

  “Any news on the ballistics from the bullet recovered from Macholl?”

  “Not yet, Steve. But it would be great if you could chase up for me, since ballistics have had it for nearly twenty-four hours already.”

  “So what’s our next step?” asked an officer.

  “We will execute a search warrant this evening. It could turn volatile, and there’s a possibility we may find firearms on the premises which is why I’ve arranged for aerial support, and SCO19.”

  A wave of murmurs rippled amongst the group as officers exchanged looks, and a few eyebrows raised in a mixture of surprise and excitement.

  “When are we going in?” another officer asked.

  “As soon as we’ve got the resources in place. A search warrant is being prepared at the moment, and as soon as this briefing ends, I’ll be organising all the extra resources and then we’ll go, so don’t make any plans to leave for the time being.”

  Karen made her way back to the office as soon as the briefing ended, a busy night ahead of her. First she organised the team she needed for this evening. She couldn’t afford to mess up, so made sure she picked the right people for the job.

  With a few moments to spare whilst she waited for confirmation on the search warrant, Karen looked over the top of her computer screen to make sure that the coast was clear before she logged in to one of the many databases that they had access to. Ever present was her need to go over case files and intelligence dating back eight months and beyond. The ambush was never far from her mind, and whilst she got on with the day job, she spent some of her time trying to find the missing pieces that would allow her to put that difficult period in her career to rest.

  There was a someone she was looking for, but strangely wasn’t sure exactly who it was, only that the intelligence held on the HOLMES2 system could help her find it. She checked out Finch’s connections and drew a blank. She did the same with Taylor and again hit a dead end. She moved on to looking at the connections and intelligence gathered on the Connells. The information they had on the system was sketchy. The Connells were far too clever to leave much of a footprint. But if anyone had access to firearms and the muscle to pull this off, it was the Connells. It was widely known in police circles that the Connells distributed guns through their network and connections.

  After Karen flipped back and forth from one record to another, a half an hour of searching gave her the name she needed. She scribbled it down along with an address before slipping the note into her back pocket.

  Karen had one last call to make. She felt a pang of guilt race through her as she got through. Following a short conversation, Karen confirmed that she would be along later that evening although she couldn’t confirm the time as she was in the middle of an operation.

  Night-time twisted back around again. Children were tucked in, and the homeless walked the streets looking for food and doorways to sleep in. Darkness brought the primal nature to the fore, a heady trance for those men who craved dominance and power. They stalked amongst the thrill seekers, the partygoers, their faces set to an underscored snarl. After sunset each person morphed into either a player or a nobody.

  Skelton didn’t want to be a nobody. The streets were his. He had spent most of his life around here and knew the area like the back of his hand. He knew where the druggies went to score, and where the working girls took their punters for a quick blow job or a fuck against the wall, and he knew where there was no CCTV.

  Skelton waited in an alleyway, checking his watch. He didn’t need to emerge from the shadows because they knew where to find him. He dragged hard on his cigarette, enjoying the buzz as nicotine flooded his system. The smoke drifted out of his mouth and up towards his eyes, the familiar sting making his eyes water. Despite telling Karen to stop snooping for dirt on the Connells, the HOLMES2 system reports confirmed multiple searches and cross-checks on the Connells and their associates. Karen had trawled intelligence reports, looked at the profiles of anyone with links to the Connells, and had put in requests with the NCA for further information.

  He couldn’t afford to have a loose cannon interfering in his business. She was getting too close. She was like a terrier that had been trained to sniff out badgers. If she picked up anything, she wouldn’t let go until she found her prize.

  Yes she’s a liability and sooner or later I won’t have any choice but to make sure she no longer poses a threat.

  He heard the loud purring of an engine as a vehicle cruised up the street. It turned right into the alleyway and pulled up alongside him. The blacked-out rear window of the slick, black Range Rover slid down. Sally Connell’s face appeared from behind, her bleach-blonde short bobbed hair stood out in the darkened cabin. Her sharp features and high cheekbones added a coldness to her face.

  “Well done the other night. The distractions helped to keep the coast clear for us. You’ve been a good boy. I’ve got work to take care of now, but drop by in an hour and I’ll give you something which I’m sure you’ll enjoy.”

  Like a little puppy that had been praised for not shitting on the carpet, Skelton felt pleased with himself. He afforded himself a smile as his breath quickened and his groin ached at the prospect of having Sally again.

  “So what did you want?” she asked, waving her phone in reference to his text message.

  “Heath is organising a raid over at the Copthorne this evening. I wanted to warn you so that none of your outfit were in the area dropping off goods.”

  Sally remained silent for a few moments as she pursed her lips, not averting her gaze from Skelton. “Who is she after?”

  “That toerag Finch. She thinks he may have been involved in the Taylor murder, so she’s going in heavy. Heath has intel on the ground confirming that Finch is holed up there at his girlfriend’s place. Just be careful.”

  Sally said nothing as her face disappeared behind the black window. The Range Rover rumbled down the alleyway before turning left and disappearing into the next street along.

  Skelton pulled up the collar on his jacket. He had just enough time to go home to grab a shower and pop a blue pill.

  33

  Waking up was no longer the pleasure it was as a child. There was a fleeting moment when she felt whole again but it evaporated faster than summer rain off the dry, hot earth. Eyelids that were drooping and leaden with sleep snapped open as violently as if the wailing sirens had woken her. Molly squeezed her soft, lumpy pillow as she let the tears roll down her cheeks.

  With nothing to do during the afternoon, Molly had gone to bed and slept for a few hours.

  Waking up could be harsh, especially if her dreams were better than her reality, and most of the time they were. The saddest part was that the memory of her dreams faded – even if she was lucky enough to remember them. Once they’d evaporated, she was left with a lonely feeling of detachment, left to explore the empty void in her emotions.

  Molly dreamt of a life away from here, away from the drugs, violence, her mum and Finchy. She’d had very little to start with in life, and knew th
at if she continued to stay here, that pattern would continue throughout adulthood. She didn’t want to be like many of the mums on the estate, single, with kids in tow, living off donations from the food bank. Molly wanted to be far away from here in a small village in the middle of the country where no one knew her and no one could hurt her. She imagined walking along quaint, narrow cobbled streets where people smiled as she walked past, where local residents gathered at the church to support each other as a community, and the smell of freshly baked bread wafted from a bakery.

  But for now, it was just a dream, nothing but a dream. She snuggled into the soft duvet and closed her eyes as it caressed her cheek. It still smelt of her grandma’s house, that floral scent taking her back to Sunday afternoons knitting with the old lady. Molly hugged the duvet a little tighter and rolled over so it enclosed her in warmth.

  That moment of peace and tranquillity was shattered as thoughts drifted into her mind of this afternoon. Hearing Finch and her drugged-up mum having sex in the next bedroom. He’d been aggressive, loud and forceful. Molly shuddered and tensed as she imagined what had unfolded in there. Her mum had stayed silent, and for her mum’s sake, Molly hoped she’d been out of it and unaware of her body being violated. Molly felt her stomach twist and turn. Her heart raced as the realisation dawned that if she didn’t do something soon, she would be next. With two women to use and abuse at his pleasure, he’d have no reason to leave the apartment. He had already threatened her and insinuated that her time would be soon.

  Does he mean days, weeks or even months?

  Molly felt the clamminess moisten her skin, the throbbing of her eyes, and the ringing screams vibrating in her ears. Molly’s fingers curled into fists, her nails digging into each palm. She felt trapped and scared. Without Harry she’d be alone in this world.

  Molly reached for the small mobile phone she kept hidden under her mattress. It was a cheap throwaway pay-as-you-go phone that Harry had given her to keep in touch with him. She only had one number stored… Harry’s. She punched out a message.

  Please come and get me… xx

  Molly pulled herself from under the protection of her duvet and opened the door just a few inches as quietly as she could and peered through the small gap. She held her breath and listened. If Finch was still around, the last thing she wanted was for him to see her in just a T-shirt and a pair of knickers.

  Certain the coast was clear, she tiptoed into the hallway and made her way towards the lounge. From the doorway, she could see her mum in her usual place, flopped on the sofa, dressed in nothing more than a dressing gown. The flimsy material gaped open, revealing that her mum wore nothing underneath. It didn’t faze Molly, she had got used to seeing her mum like that. Her mum’s face was washed out, wrinkled, and gaunt. Her mouth gaped open, and drool dribbled from one corner and dripped off her chin. Molly’s eyes were drawn to the half used spliff on the small table beside the sofa and the empty bottle of cheap wine. The air was thick with the sickly sweet smell of weed.

  “Mum.”

  “Mum!” Molly said again.

  Her mum was out for the count. Molly suspected her mum wouldn’t even know what day of the week it was, let alone what time it was. It was how her mum was most of the time.

  Molly’s stomach growled, and it was only then that she realised she hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast this morning, two stale bits of toast and a glass of orange squash. She made her way to the kitchen and sighed at the mess. Discarded biscuit wrappers and empty tins littered the work surface, and plates and cups jostled each other for space in the sink. Molly tried at least once a week to tidy up after her mother and Finch, but fought a losing battle. She scrunched up her nose at the smell of rotting food and stale air.

  Each cupboard she opened was bare. A few cheap tea bags, and half a bag of sugar were all she could find. She would have to settle for a few spoonfuls of sugar for energy to get through the rest of the evening.

  She dipped back into the hallway and made her way back towards the bedroom, but froze when she heard snoring coming from her mum’s bedroom.

  Finch, shit.

  She needed to make her escape before Finch woke, but she needed money and she knew where to get it.

  But before that, she rushed to her bedroom and dressed, throwing off the bed T-shirt and slipping on her bra, Nike T-shirt and hoodie before slipping into a pair of skintight jeans, and lacing up her Converse trainers. If she had to run, she needed to be prepared to not look back or need anything. Harry would meet her around the corner, so she needed to move fast.

  Molly turned the handle on her mum’s bedroom door and pushed it ajar, being careful that the door hinges didn’t squeak. As she peeked in, the smell of stale sweat, beer and more weed hit her. Bile rose as she bit down hard on her lips, the acid scorching her throat. She wanted to step away, but willed herself to push on and find what she needed. She tiptoed around in the darkness, her feet catching on discarded clothes and trainers that littered the floor.

  Ever so gently, she pried open each drawer looking for the things she had seen when she had snooped around their bedroom on a previous occasion. There was nothing.

  Has he taken it all away?

  She glanced over her shoulder to check on Finch, her hands trembling. Her heart pounded so loud, she worried he could hear it. Molly licked her dry lips as she shivered. Tightness gripped her chest as if someone had their hands clasped around her throat.

  Molly tiptoed towards the only wardrobe in the room. She tried to open the door, but it stuck, so she tugged again. It took a few moments for her to realise that clothes on the floor had caught beneath the bottom lip of the door. She pushed them away with the tip of a foot. The darkness made it hard to see much other than silhouettes of hanging clothes. She patted them down to see if there was anything stuffed in the pockets before dropping to her knees and rummaging around in all the bags thrown in the bottom. The plastic bags rustled as her hands brushed against them. She gasped and craned her neck around to see if he had heard her.

  Another snore rattled deep inside Finch’s throat. Then she found what she was looking for, a sports holdall with the zip undone. She plunged her hands into the bag and felt around, pulling out a large bundle of notes neatly folded in half. She grabbed as many as she could, stuffing them down the front of her jeans and into the pockets of her hoodie. There was more that she could feel, small squidgy bags, and then the cold kiss of metal which made her jerk her hand away.

  Guilt flashed through her for a moment as she thought about the repercussions, and how Finch would take it out on her mum. She knelt what seemed like minutes undecided. Part of her wanted to leave the cash and run. But more of her wanted to take the money and create a new life with Harry. It would be enough to get them started and maybe rent a small flat whilst she looked for a job. She wasn’t fussy. She would take anything, a cleaning job, working in a local Aldi or Lidl, or even distributing leaflets. It was the freedom she wanted more than anything else.

  Her mind was made up. She would stick to her plan, and call the authorities once she’d gone so her mum would be released from a life of misery under Finch’s control.

  She retraced her steps out of the room, not looking back as she unlocked the front door and stepped out into the coolness of the evening. It wasn’t until she was outside she realised that she’d been holding her breath for what felt like minutes. Her body felt drained, exhausted, and terrified. She was out here alone, destination unknown as she ran along the walkway and down the steps as fast as her legs would take her.

  As she reached the bottom of the stairwell, she stopped, looking over her shoulder one last time. There was no turning back. It was time to take control of her life, and Harry had reassured her that he would take her away from all the pain and sadness that had blighted both of their lives. He reassured her that no one would ever hurt them again.

  Molly made her way around to the side of the apartment block and made a break for freedom, heading towards the main
exit of the estate where Harry would be waiting for her. She ran as fast as she could until she reached the main road. Just as she arrived, she froze on the spot as a convoy of police vehicles stormed past her and through the main entrance to the estate.

  Hopefully they’re there to take all the nasty scum off the estate, she thought as she walked away.

  34

  The element of surprise was more important now as Karen and the rest of the team pulled up close to the apartment block. Darkness brought with it a blanket of fear and vulnerability. The estate took on an icy chill despite the warmth of a June evening. Shadows were longer and darker, sounds were louder and clearer as the hum of background traffic had quietened to a faint murmur. The sound of a dog barking echoed around the buildings.

  A group of youths, silhouetted in the dark, loitering close to the playground dispersed in random directions when the first car came into view.

  They can well be part of Finch’s gang, or lookouts, Karen thought.

  Karen, Jade, Steve and Brad exited the first car. Two BMW X5 ARVs from SCO19, the specialist firearms command, split in different directions. One unit remained with Karen, whilst the other circled around towards the back of the apartment block to cover the rear exit. A personnel carrier followed towards the rear carrying eight officers dressed in dark overalls, body armour and protective helmets. It was an intimidating show of force, deliberate on Karen’s part, to ensure Finch could be identified and secured safely. The extra officers would also ensure that any secondary disturbance could be quelled quickly and efficiently.

  Several residents had gathered in the walkways of other apartment blocks. Some looked on in curiosity, others laughed and joked, and a few pockets of spectators jeered and heckled.

  Karen knew their presence wouldn’t be welcome, and the air was brittle with tension. Often raids of this nature created further friction between local communities and the police, but in Karen’s eyes they were a necessity. With gang and knife crime so prevalent in London, the number of victims had grown exponentially. She knew some boroughs had council estates that were no-go areas for the police, or too unsafe and dangerous for any police officer to enter on their own or even twin crewed.