Mrs Brown had explained their need for urgency this evening, as both had opted to go home to Romania — quite understandable in the circumstances — and their escort to the airport was due shortly. They already had their temporary travel documents, issued by their embassy in London. These had arrived by motorcycle courier shortly prior to Christine’s arrival.
Both women seemed excited to be heading home. Christine asked if they would ever return to the UK in the future, and Bob A said probably not, but Shoulder B said maybe London. Then there was a knock at the door.
‘That’ll be the escort,’ Mrs Brown said, peeping through the curtains as she spoke. ‘And I can see a car outside. I’ll go and let them in.’
Christine thanked the two women again and wished them both well as she packed her notepad and voice recorder into her handbag.
Then she heard Mrs Brown scream from the hallway.
Chapter Twenty
Christine jumped to her feat, initially unsure what was taking place. Both women stood up, grabbed their holdalls and held them close to their chests. Christine slammed the door to the front room shut, gripped the end of the settee and started to pull it across the doorway. Both women helped. Christine told the women to follow her as she rushed into the open plan dining room and through the second door, which led into a small kitchen. She was grateful there wasn’t a further door giving access to the hallway.
As she moved, she could hear Mrs Brown struggling with someone and shouting, ‘How dare you! Take your hands off me! You’re not coming past me until you show me your ID.’
Mrs Brown’s last sentence was clearly redundant; it was as if she was trying to warn Christine and the women. Christine felt terrible for not going to her aid, but she had to get the women out.
It had become clear to Christine, in the few seconds that had passed, that whoever was forcing their way into the hall was not interested in Mrs Brown, and was certainly not the women’s escort. Well — not the one they were expecting.
The rear door was unlocked, saving valuable seconds as Christine rushed the two women through it. She found the presence of mind to check the inner lock and was glad to see a mortice-style key stuck in it. She grabbed the key, shut the door and put the key in the lock from outside. The delay felt like ages, but could only have been a second or two. She heard and felt the locking levers click into place a fraction of a second before the handle shot downwards from inside. It hurt her wrist as it forced her own hand from it.
She heard Mrs Brown screaming obscenities and felt a second twinge of guilt. Then she heard the woman shout, ‘Run, Christine, run!’ as someone started to kick the kitchen door from inside.
Christine shouted, ‘Follow me,’ as she raced into the small grassed rear garden, which she quickly realised was surrounded by a six-foot six-inch fence. But her heart lifted as she came to a halt at the end and realised that the fence was panelled within concrete uprights. She grabbed at the bottom of one of the huge fence panels and was joined by the two women. Between them, they were easily able to lift the panel a couple of feet into the air. Two of them held it up as one dived through. They swapped places until all three were clear. Then, they let the panel slam back down onto its concrete plinth just as a loud crash came from the back of the house. It sounded as though the kitchen door had lost its battle.
But as luck would have had it, the house the women had been in was gable-ended and the side street they now found themselves in was the one Christine had parked her car in, rather than on the busy main road that was Queens Drive.
It only took a few extra seconds to cross the road and unlock her car. Both women jumped into the back as she landed on the driver’s seat. Christine rammed the electronic key into the car’s ignition and pressed start. The engine fired up straight away, but again the whole process felt like an eternity. She rammed the car into first gear and spun both the rear wheels as it set off. She’d be at the junction with Queens Drive in seconds and hoped her access would be clear as she jumped on the brakes.
She instinctively glanced at the fence as they flew past the side of the house, and caught a glimpse of a head as it appeared over the top of a fence panel, followed by a body, and then a second. She didn’t see the second person clearly, although she presumed they were both male, but she did get a look straight into the face of the first man. White-ish skinned, short thick dark hair and a black moustache, which looked unusual as they seemed to have gone out of fashion and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen one. She also saw a look of anger and frustration on the man’s face.
Christine turned to face front again and instinctively looked in her rear view mirror as she skidded towards a halt at the side street’s junction. In her mirror she could see that both women had too been looking towards the house, Bob A being the nearest as she was right behind Christine. Both women turned to face the front and Christine looked momentarily into Bob A’s face before she concentrated on the junction. She concentrated on her driving. Looking to her right there was a break in the traffic which she took full advantage of, accelerating through 90 degrees in a wide arc as she turned left into the main road. She exhaled, unaware that she had been holding her breath as she powered away.
She asked both the women if they were alright; both thanked her and said that they were. Christine drove hard for about half a mile and then pulled over, onto the grass verge at the side of the road, and parked half on it and half on the adjoining footpath. She ignored the numerous car horns that blasted their disapproval and quickly pulled her mobile phone from her bag. She dialled 999 to send help to that poor woman she had left back at the house. The call was answered in a few rings, but in those brief moments of pause, she reflected on the look she had seen on Bob A’s face as they drove away. A look of fear, yes, but also one of recognition.
Chapter Twenty-One
By the time Vinnie and Harry arrived back in their office, the tension had eased a little. Vinnie offered to buy Harry a canteen dinner. He had no reason to rush home as Christine would be busy over in Liverpool and the traffic back to Manchester would be horrendous. Harry agreed; a good sign. By the time they finished their fish and chips, Harry was talking again. Vinnie played the subservient deputy role, but was starting to become irked at Harry overplaying the outraged boss; after all, he’d let Vinnie’s porky ride.
They had just sat down when there was a knock at the door. Vinnie opened it and standing in front of him was Detective Sergeant Susan Grady. She hurried in past him and said, ‘Please close the door.’
Vinnie did, and as he turned around he saw a look of shock on Harry’s face.
‘You’ve got some explaining to do, or should I throw you in a cell first? Wouldn’t want to tread on your rights — as a prisoner.’
‘Gents, look I know how it must seem, but please let me explain before you do anything rash.’
Vinnie wasn’t sure what Grady’s angle was, but he knew they were dealing with an experienced detective and had to try to push any emotions to one side. The last thing he wanted to do was to give Grady a ‘get out of jail’ card by an abuse of process.
He jumped in. ‘Before you utter another word, let me caution you, so that at least whatever you are about to say can be used in court later.’ Vinnie quickly recited the full caution to her and saw Harry nod his approval. Even though they had not arrested Grady yet, whatever she was about to declare could prove useful. They’d let her speak, and then Vinnie would grant Harry’s wish and lock up this criminal with a badge.
‘I’ll cut straight to it. At the raid, I knew Babik was close by. We exchanged texts. It’s why I persuaded you to take Jody Watson in as a witness, and suggested you go straight away in your motor, sir.’
Vinnie was stunned. A straightforward admission was not what he’d expected.
‘So there can be no mistake later on, you heard DI Palmer caution you?’ Harry said.
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Drop the sir bit, it sounds too obsequious coming from you.
’
‘So you set up this poor woman to be murdered, to prevent her evidence being heard?’ Vinnie said.
‘I know it seems like that, but I was trying to save her,’ Grady replied.
Vinnie had no idea what she meant. He noted that Harry had taken his pocket note book out from his desk drawer and was scribbling away. Vinnie would ask all the questions now. ‘You do realise that the bullet that killed Watson could have easily taken me out as well?’
‘I’m truly sorry about that; it wasn’t supposed to happen that way.’
Vinnie was more confused than ever. ‘Go on.’
‘I got a text from Cornel, I mean Babik, saying he knew that the place was being raided and had it been minutes later, he’d have been there. He asked where I was. I said I was there. He asked if Jody was there. I said yes, and that she was about to be nicked.’
Vinnie couldn’t see where this remarkable admission was going, though he suspected the text traffic had been the other way around. He let Grady continue.
‘He asked how long before she would leave. I guessed 10 to 15 minutes. It would have taken that long for the first prisoner escort van to arrive.’
Vinnie found his next question quite easily now, ‘Oh, I see, make sure we took her in as a witness, so she would be a far easier target. Nice one.’
‘No, no, you’re getting this all wrong!’
‘I’m beginning to think I’ve heard enough. You can save the rest for when you are formally interviewed. What do you say, Mr Delany?’ Vinnie said.
But before Harry could reply, Grady continued. ‘I knew Babik would attack the van with automatic weapons, it would have been a bloodbath. The cops escorting Watson could have been killed, too.’
‘So you thought you’d make it easier for him, eh? And what about Mr Delany and me?’
‘That’s why I suggested you take her in as a witness and to do it straight away, to prevent the attack.’
‘But it can only have been you who tipped him off that she was with us? We wondered how the attack had happened so quickly. Now we know why.’
‘That wasn’t me.’
Vinnie was about to walk to his desk to get his handcuffs, not that he needed them to arrest Grady, he just wanted to add to her humiliation when he marched her into the custody suite. But her last remark stopped him in his tracks. ‘So who did then?’
‘I’ve no idea; I can only assume it was the person who had tipped him off initially about the raid. My intervention was intended to save Watson, not kill her.’
‘I can’t imagine that any of those poor trafficked women would have tipped their incarcerator off,’ Vinnie said.
‘And how would they get hold of a phone?’ Harry added.
‘I really don’t know,’ Grady answered.
Vinnie ignored her denial, he now understood her angle, and why she had not flinched when he cautioned her; doing so no doubt played into her plans nicely. She was clearly in a very inappropriate and corrupt personal relationship with Babik, something she could expect to receive several years’ imprisonment for, but it would not be a life sentence for murder. She was clearly trying to cut her losses.
‘Look, you are obviously bent, and have leaked God knows how much intelligence to Babik already, but this charade won’t work. You told him that we were taking Watson in my car. You are as guilty of murder as he is for pulling the trigger.’
‘I know it seems like that, but you can check my phone records.’
Another ploy, Vinnie thought. But Harry spoke before he could respond. ‘As well you know, telephony data can only give us texts and numbers called and received, not the actual conversations. Only phone taps can do that. Anyway, I’ve heard enough. Vinnie, will you…’
‘Wait!’ she shouted as Vinnie pulled his handcuffs out of his desk drawer, and then added, ‘Why the hell would I just walk in here now? Yes, I could understand your cynicism if you’d found me and I was being interviewed formally. But I walked in here of my own accord.’
It was a high risk strategy, Vinnie had to agree; giving herself up just for the opportunity to gain her version of events some added credibility. He wasn’t sure he’d have the balls to try it; he’d probably still be running.
‘OK, Susan, we’ve listened to you and by your own admission you had a corrupt relationship with Babik, for which I’m going to arrest you. But here’s the surprise; I’m nicking you for murder, too. Susan Grady, I arrest you—’ Vinnie started to say, before Grady interrupted him.
‘That’s not what I really came in to tell you. I need to stop you now, Mr Palmer. You can’t arrest me because my relationship with Babik isn’t corrupt and inappropriate as you must think. It is officially authorised.’
Vinnie wasn’t interested in listening to any more of Susan Grady’s bullshit and was about to carry on, when Harry jumped in. ‘Officially authorised? What the hell does that mean?’
Both Vinnie and Harry stood facing Grady now, Vinnie had freed one of the handcuffs by running the loose end of the cuff through its ratchet, and was about to snap it onto Grady’s left wrist, when her words stopped him.
‘My real name is not Susan Grady, but I am an officially authorised undercover officer. Cornel Babik is my target.’
Chapter Twenty-Two
Vinnie hadn’t seen that one coming, and stopped his arrest protocol in order to hear more. ‘That’s a claim that is easily checkable,’ he said.
‘And we have been in touch with the chief constable Brian Darlington, who would know if you were an undercover officer or not,’ Harry said.
‘Look, you know I’ve not been at Preston long, and why do you think I’m in here declaring all to you instead of my DI, Jim Day?’
Vinnie thought for a second, and was certainly unsure. Why them, Manchester officers working on a regional homicide unit which just happened to have an office here? Neither he nor Harry spoke.
‘I was put in here by the National Crime Agency as it is suspected that Babik has lots of friends in the police. Here locally, as well as in my firm. Darlington won’t know I’m here.’
‘That won’t go down too well,’ Harry said.
‘Professional egos aside, he won’t be on his own.’
‘What do you mean?’ Harry asked.
‘Even the northern bosses of the NCA are unaware. They are the ones who targeted Babik previously, but got nowhere near him.’
‘OK, suppose we go along with this very intriguing story, you must be able to give me a telephone number of someone in London who knows of your deployment.’
‘I can’t.’
‘I see; can’t or won’t? Don’t bother answering that, I’ve heard enough,’ Harry said.
‘Wait. Part of my protection protocol is that no one will confirm my status, and trust me, that’s just a handful, and even if one of them did, they all think I’m on loan to the security service, and beyond that they don’t know what I’m working on, as it involves national security.’
‘So you are some kind of Jane Bond, now, are you?’ Vinnie asked.
‘No, of course not, that’s just part of my cover story, to protect me. Those in the NCA who know my status as an undercover officer are all at senior level, and all think I’m on loan to MI5. But that’s just my cover.’
Vinnie was getting tired now and he could see that Harry was also far from convinced. Time to get the handcuffs on.
‘But you must be able to pick up a phone and speak to someone, anyone, who can then confirm to me any of this,’ Harry insisted. ‘There must be at least one who knows all.’
‘If I’m in fear of compromise I can make contact through an automated system, but it will take too long. It would also kill the operation, as such disclosure would trigger an automatic revocation of my authorities and only the chief himself would then be briefed — as in your chief, Mr Darlington. No offence to your rank, Mr Delany.’
Vinnie was sure he could smell a last desperate ploy by a very manipulative and intelligent criminal. ‘You know, if you
had put this much effort into being a detective, rather than being a criminal’s moll, you would probably have gone far,’ Vinnie said.
‘Look, I had to go to ground in order to try and discover what Babik would do next, and I wish I hadn’t. It’s getting far too dangerous to carry on, and in any event he’s committed a murder so that should do. OK, it may not give us the rest of his infrastructure, beyond what I know already, but a life sentence is a life sentence, which is why I’m breaking all the rules by outing myself to you here and now.’
‘In that case, give us Babik, and we may start to listen to you,’ Harry said. ‘If we get Babik now, then there would be no further need for you to be undercover, so once he is safely in the cells you could trigger the automatic revocation of your authorities. Mr Darlington would be briefed of your true status, as you have claimed it, and then we could start to unpick all that you have told us.’
Even if any of this was true and Grady was an undercover officer, of which Vinnie had serious doubt, she could still be corrupt. It wouldn’t be the first time an undercover officer had gone rogue. But first things first, if there was the slightest chance on getting their hands on Babik before he flees, they were duty-bound to try. Vinnie glanced at Harry and could see tacit acceptance on his face.
‘OK, we’ll postpone arresting you for the greater public interest of getting hold of Babik. What’s the address?’ Harry asked.
‘There is one of three he will be at, but if you get the wrong one, he’ll know and you’ll have lost your chance. This will only work if I walk in and then confirm his presence. I’ll wear a wire so you can hear everything.’
This was starting to sound like more of the same, Vinnie thought, before saying, ‘Look, can’t you just ring him?’
‘If I do that, he’ll suspect.’
The Badge & the Pen Thrillers Page 63