Harry told Vinnie they should make sure they made friends, as there would no doubt be some local detective superintendents and inspectors not best pleased to have been side-lined by their own chief. But on the plus side, it kept them away from their own deputy chief back in Manchester. Jim Reedly had been heavily involved in the last job — as a potential victim — and Vinnie and Harry had not seen eye to eye with him.
The large man on Vinnie’s left rose to visit the lavatory, so Vinnie reclaimed the armrest; at least he would have it until his last coffee decided it wanted to make a reappearance. He glanced at Christine, who was still looking out of the window, and asked if she was OK.
‘Oh yes, I’m just taking the downtime to go over all that’s happened in the last few days.’
‘It all started with what we witnessed on the beach… and to think, we were going to stay by the pool that day.’
‘I know; last minute decision. But I’ve also been thinking what a great story there is in there.’
‘I guess you’ll never get chance to chase it now,’ Vinnie said, aware of the large man returning. He could hear him huffing as he banged his arm into Vinnie’s, but Vinnie held fast.
‘Not strictly so,’ Christine said.
Her reply intrigued Vinnie, and as he turned to face her fully, he momentarily lost concentration and felt his arm being pushed off the armrest. This guy was seriously trying his patience, but he was now more interested in finding out what Christine meant. So he asked her.
‘Well, it got me thinking. If we take all the facts we have learnt from Puerto Pollensa and extrapolate from it—’
‘Careful, you might start to lose me.’
‘As I was saying, extrapolate from it, I think it is safe to assume that we may, and I say may, have a similar problem in the north west.’
‘How come?’
I did some research on my phone in the airport, and we have quite a large number of Romanians living in Manchester. A significant proportion of those will be from the Roma community.’
‘Probably most are, I would think. But it’s still a large leap to assume they are into people trafficking.’
‘Granted, but it might be worth a look,’ Christine said.
‘Looking for your next scoop?’
‘There you go, mentioning the s-word; now I’ve got to take a look,’ Christine said.
Vinnie smiled, but it was soon spoiled by the man next to him, who muttered, ‘Can you two talk more quietly? I’m trying to get some kip here. Had a few too many for my lunch.’
Vinnie didn’t answer; just turned and grimaced at the lump of lard next to him. He checked his watch. Still an hour and a half to go. He glanced at Christine, who smiled back. She then turned to the window again and Vinnie picked up the in-flight magazine. Five minutes later, the fat man started to snore. Then the drinks trolley rolled up. ‘I’ll have a latte please,’ Vinnie said. ‘A large one.’
Chapter Nine
Vinnie was walking through the incident room in Preston nick at eight am the following day, and by the frenetic clatter and background chatter he guessed that there was a new job on. He always loved the first few days of a murder investigation, as everything clicked into place. There was an air of excitement and anticipation, not forgetting, of course, that someone had lost their life. Never forgetting that.
He reached the SIO’s office where Harry the senior investigating officer was already at his desk. Vinnie was his deputy. Normally, a detective chief inspector would be deputy but there weren’t enough to go around, nowadays.
Harry was on the phone when Vinnie walked in; he looked up and nodded as he carried on with his conversation. Vinnie was carrying two polystyrene cups of nuclear-grade coffee from the vending machine in the corridor, and put one on Harry’s desk as he ended his call.
Harry was ten years older that Vinnie, four stone heavier and with far less hair. His complexion was normally a bit rosé, moving up to a full claret in times of stress.
‘Job on?’ Vinnie asked as he tried to take a sip of his coffee.
‘We really must invest in a kettle in here; it’ll be next Wednesday before that coffee cools down, er, sorry, no… just pulling together some pre-trial stuff.’
‘Oh, right. When you rushed off the phone yesterday and I saw the hustle and bustle next door I just assumed…’
‘No, but I’m glad you’re here. There’s been a trial on at Preston crown while you’ve been away, a modern slavery job.’
‘Wasn’t the accused a local?’ Vinnie asked.
‘Yes, he had an illegal from Estonia working all hours for £2 an hour. He had her passport and everything. That was before the bastard forced her to become a prostitute, with others, in an old disused mill.’
‘What happened?’
‘They are all safe now and are being cared for by the social services in Manchester, and the shitbag, called Mohammed Sadiq, is due to be sentenced tomorrow.
‘And?’
‘He wants to trade for a reduced sentence. Wants a Piggott.’
Vinnie knew all about ‘Piggott Texts’. These occurred when a registered informant found him or herself in the soft stuff and wanted the sentencing judge to be made aware of all the good things they had done, in providing the police with quality intelligence prior to their arrest. The judge would take account of the value of that previous help as demanded by case law in R v Piggott 1994.
‘I get it, that if he had been an informant prior to his trial, as laid down by the appeal court he is entitled to a text to be supplied by the police through the prosecution.’
‘The old “brown envelopes,”’ Harry said.
‘Exactly, but this scumbag is trying to trade after the fact with stuff that will obviously be untested, just as he is, as a source of information.’
‘The fact that it has come to us, sort of proves that he has never been a registered informant.’
A good point by Harry, Vinnie thought, this would have gone to his handlers, if he had any. ‘And why has it come to us anyway, not those involved in the case?’
‘They probably want an unbiased approach. It would give it some transparency and as we don’t actually have a murder on the go, we are a resource to be used, I guess.’
‘I don’t like it, Harry. I think this Sadiq fellow should be sentenced and then we could perhaps visit him in prison and see if he wants to pass on any information as part of his civic duty. Might help show he is willing to be rehabilitated, when he eventually reaches parole board time.’
‘That’s one view.’
‘Anyway, do we know what he’s offering? This could all be bollocks,’ Vinnie said.
‘I know. His brief has said it concerns people trafficking.’
‘What, like he’s been convicted of involvement with?’
‘Yes-ish. But his brief says it is off the scale, and makes what he has done look like nothing.’
‘I’m sure that poor Estonian woman doesn’t agree. How long was she captive, anyway?’
‘About two years.’
‘Bastard.’
‘Agreed, but what do you think about the request?’
Vinnie had run an informant unit while he was a detective sergeant, and handled many as a detective constable. They had all been slippery to deal with and committed to their own agendas, it had been like trying to corral cats. He was glad he was out of that world now, but it was obviously because he had been in it, that it had come to them. No wonder Harry was glad he was back from leave early.
‘First up, as this bloke has not yet, or indeed ever, provided information to the police, he is not — in my view — entitled to a Piggott text as a matter of right. And even if we were compelled by a jittery judge to provide one, there would be nothing in it.’
‘That’s what I thought. But should we still see him, his brief says it’s big?’
‘My view, Harry, is no. Whatever he gives us, or claims to be giving us, can’t possibly be tested or evaluated in time to assist a sentencing
judge tomorrow.’
‘Granted, but his brief has said he could apply for an adjournment, to help us.’
‘Help his client, more like. No, even if the court agreed to an adjournment, how long would that be? Seven days, possibly ten. Still way too short. I say stuff him, it’s obviously a cynical ploy by a desperate criminal — who incidentally pleaded not guilty — and an even more cynical brief.’
‘I agree. But let’s have him visited in prison after he has been sentenced, just to give him the opportunity to talk to us… in the spirit of civil servitude.’
‘He’ll probably just tell us to—’
‘No doubt,’ Harry interrupted, grinning. ‘Should we run it past CPS first?’
‘I’ll speak to the caseworker from the trial. He or she will no doubt already be aware of the offer in embryo.’
‘Thanks Vinnie, it’s good to have you back. So tell me, how did the romantic holiday go? And why back so soon? I hope that’s not a bad sign, I like Christine.’
Vinnie took a deep breath. At least his coffee would have cooled by the time he finished his story.
*
Christine walked into her office in Media City, Salford. It was a new bespoke centre designed specifically for the media. The BBC and ITV had a big presence there, as did many independent TV production and broadcast companies.
Christine worked for NWTV, a regional outfit, which covered news and made some ground-breaking documentaries. Her last two big projects had come from her working relationship with Vinnie Palmer and she just hoped that, as their relationship had started down a personal path, it wouldn’t affect their professional dynamics. Time would tell.
She plonked herself down at her desk and started to log on to the systems. Although she had only been away a few days, she hated to think how many emails would be waiting. But what will be, and all that. Truth was, she loved working here. Like many, she had started her career in the print media and made the change some time ago. She loved the freedom and time it gave her to dig deeply into serious topics and stories. Sure, there were always deadlines, and sometimes they were crazy, but nothing compared to the manic bedlam that was a newspaper newsroom.
Her editor, June, was in her glass-walled office set at the head of the main room where Christine worked, and was quickly out and over to her.
‘So, how did the big holiday romance go? And why was it cut so short? Oh sorry, I should have asked how you are after that mugging or whatever, first.’
‘Typical June; you are chasing two stories here, but want the potentially salacious one first.’
‘Oh course, so give: did you?’
‘I’m not telling you, June, it would be all over the internet.’
June looked at Christine with the feigned expression of hurt she often used, and then said, ‘So that’s a no then. You need to get a grip, Vinnie is lovely.’
‘I’m fine now, after the attack,’ Christine said, grinning and avoiding June’s remark.
June raised her hands in defeat and said, ‘OK, for now. But why the quick return?’
‘Advised to, by the local police.’
‘And?’
‘And I think we can work it into a local angle; or should I say, it’s worth a look at. If you’ll let me,’ Christine said.
‘OK, now I’m interested,’ June said. ‘Canteen, now. You can tell me more over tea and toast.’
Chapter Ten
‘That’s one hell of a few days you’ve had in Majorca,’ Harry said.
‘Yeah, it wasn’t how I’d planned my first holiday with Christine, I can tell you.’
Just then the door opened and in walked the local CID DI, Jim Day. A man in his thirties like Vinnie, but unlike Vinnie in so far as he looked 10 years older than he was. Vinnie didn’t know him too well, but he seemed decent enough.
‘Vinnie, I’m so glad you boys and girls are based here now,’ Jim started. Vinnie didn’t like the sound of this. ‘I’m rushed off my feet, and an armed blag has just come in, so I’m knackered for all of today and most of the evening. Now, I know how you busy you lot can be, at times…’ Jim said.
Vinnie could feel the ‘but’ coming.
‘I’m after a massive favour…’
The ‘but’. ‘Go on,’ Vinnie said.
Jim then went on to explain that the intelligence unit had spent weeks putting a job together concerning the activities of a local brothel, which was being run from a disused mill on the edge of the city. They had gathered lots of evidence and had target packages against those running it.
‘Is this really a CID job?’ Vinnie asked. ‘Wouldn’t your local target team, or plain clothes department, deal with something like a run-of-the-mill brothel — no pun intended — rather than seasoned detectives?’
‘Normal brothels, as in the good old days, yes. But these jobs are very different. This involves trafficked women, like in the Sadiq case. A serious problem now. Too often in the recent past such investigations have been run badly, or not at all. People failed to make the distinction.’
‘Go on,’ Harry said.
‘These brothels are often staffed with trafficked women, held against their will and forced to prostitute themselves. I’ve little against anyone who chooses to sell their own wares, but this is a whole new world; and it’s spreading,’ Jim said.
Vinnie realised his mistake and thought of Rotherham, and other such places. These jobs should always be done properly, but were often misconstrued as he had just done. This was part of a modern scourge that he’d not previously dealt with.
He chided himself.
‘Sorry,’ Vinnie said, ‘I didn’t mean that they are not important. The old plain clothes departments or vice squads used to be brilliant at this sort of stuff, is all I meant. I hadn’t realised this was a modern slavery job.’
‘Hard to believe that such a thing exists today, in modern Britain, I know. But we all need to wake up to the threat,’ Jim said.
‘Enough said, Jim, just tell me — what you want?’ Vinnie said.
‘The main player is believed to be using enslaved women who have been trafficked into the UK from places like Estonia and Latvia. He is a level-three target criminal. He had been flagged to the National Crime Agency, but they gave up their primacy after months of getting nowhere near him.’
Now, Vinnie understood just how serious this job really was; even more so than others at a similar level. A level-three target is a national and international criminal of the worst kind.
‘How did the intelligence unit get on to it?’ Harry asked.
‘The initial investigation started as a result of community information, and to be honest, we were only brought in once it was known that the prostitutes were forced labour, who had been illegally trafficked into the country. No one knew who was running it until a few days ago. It was a huge bonus, I can tell you. The chief, Brian Darlington, is very excited now.’
‘I’m surprised the National Crime Agency hasn’t jumped back all over you,’ Vinnie said.
‘Trust me, they have, but this remains our investigation. We’ll ask for their help as and when,’ Jim said.
No wonder the chief Brian Darlington has been taking such an interest, he’ll want the job putting down as soon as possible, Vinnie thought.
‘How can we help?’ Harry asked.
‘Well, the raid to free the girls is to take place at midday today, and I was to oversee it.’
‘Why midday?’ Vinnie asked.
‘Well, they keep the girls in a disused mill 24/7, and the intel is that the main player will be there around noon. Plus, there will be no punters at that time, so no risk of collateral damage,’ Jim said.
Vinnie wasn’t sure whether the punters were worthy of protection from collateral damage. It must be obvious to them that the girls were not there willingly. As if reading his expression, Jim added, ‘We know who the regular punters are, all on surveillance videos, but the strategy is to use them as witnesses. Sure, they will be outed as punters, but the
ir choice will be to turn witness or be nicked for being part of the conspiracy to keep abducted women there.’
It’s a good strategy, Vinnie thought, it would be virtually impossible to prove in court that the punters knew that the women were enslaved, even though they must have known. Far better to use them as witnesses, underpinned with the threat of prosecution. Quite a sneaky plan. Vinnie liked Jim more and more. Much better in stopping the main target. Without a successful case against him, he would no doubt just disappear and set up afresh.
‘As serious as this job sounds, I hope you realise we could not take it on fully. We are tied to homicides,’ Harry said.
‘God no,’ Jim said, adding, ‘I was just hoping that Vinnie could run the raid, oversee the arrest of the main target, and keep an eye on it for me. All the interview teams are briefed and ready, as are the search teams. We also have teams who will be picking up the punters/witnesses at their home addresses, to take their statements. We can’t start the interviews proper until all of that has been done. The interview teams have been told to do a quick opening interview from this afternoon into the evening, to put allegations to those arrested and obtain their inevitable denials. We’ll hit them proper tomorrow, once we have the witness evidence.’
‘So you just want me to act as a bronze commander, overseeing the raid?’ Vinnie asked.
‘Exactly,’ Jim said, then handed Vinnie a binder full of papers. ‘It’s all in the operational order.’
‘Sounds interesting, and as I shouldn’t even be here, I’ve nothing else planned, so I’m up for it if Harry agrees.’
‘No problem,’ Harry said.
Vinnie knew it should be easy enough to do and would fit in with Harry’s strategy of making friends with the locals. And as an added bonus, it would keep the Lancashire chief, Brian Darlington, sweet. He quickly flipped through the OP order, he’d it read properly in a minute. He was looking for the target nominals page, and found it at the rear. Only one person was named, with photographs attached. She was the madam who ran the brothel. The main player’s details were missing, as was his or her photograph.
The Badge & the Pen Thrillers Page 58