Hell's Gate: A gripping, edge-of-your-seat crime thriller

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Hell's Gate: A gripping, edge-of-your-seat crime thriller Page 17

by Malcolm Hollingdrake


  “You failed to mention this when we called. When was this?”

  “The threats, Sergeant, the threats. Why would we mention it? It was months ago, I have the date when I withdrew the cash.”

  “How sure was Mrs Baines that it was the same man?”

  “Once you’ve seen him, you’d not really forget him. When she came home she was in a state. Joan thought her mother had drunk too much, or something didn’t suit, thought she was just spoiling things again, as usual, but I know that she was truly frightened.”

  ***

  Cyril spoke with the officer in charge of the incident involving Jim Nolan.

  “Never regained consciousness. No clues around where he was found but we’re now sure that a bag was taken. Witnesses from the bus suggest he was carrying the bag seen on the incident footage but none was found at the scene. We do see it being removed by the suspect. Nothing has been found dumped locally. We have some CCTV of people waiting at the bus station. I’ve taken footage from an hour before the arrival of the Edinburgh National Express coach and that’s available now for you. It’s simply a case of working backwards but I can’t see someone waiting much longer than that.”

  Cyril sat upright when he was told how he should do his job but thanked the officer.

  He brought the footage up on screen and two officers who were in the incident room walked across at his request. It was strange watching the bus pull out in reverse, people walking backwards, but then Cyril’s finger hit the keypad to pause the image. There he was, same coat and same cap. He was sitting sideways with a view of the National Express stop.

  “Bingo! It’s our man from Harrogate Bus Station. He seems to give out with one hand and take back with the other. Looks like drugs. All we have to do now is find out who this bastard is.”

  ***

  As soon as Mr Baines mentioned the man being taller than Owen, he could have pencilled in the rest of the description but he resisted leading the witness. It all came out, one piece after the other.

  “Notice anything else?”

  Reg thought. “Yes, he had a strange accent, probably foreign but saying that, he had a flat, Yorkshire accent but you could still tell he was from abroad.”

  “So what did you do?”

  “We paid, of course, what else do you do when confronted by someone who seemed as callous as anyone I’ve ever known? He was evil in fact.”

  “I don’t suppose he told you why your son-in-law owed the money?”

  “Drugs I assume as he said that the money had gone up his nose. We couldn’t pay him then and there, of course, we don’t keep a lot of money in the house, even though we don’t need a guard dog with Barbara there all the time. We told him that we’d need to draw on some savings. He gave us three days!”

  “Reasonable of him! And? I take it Barbara is Mrs Baines?”

  “Yes, you recognised the description, sorry. He didn’t come back in three days, he came back five days later, early in the morning and took the money.”

  “How sure were you that he wouldn’t keep returning until he’d cleared your accounts?”

  “Mrs Baines. She threatened that if he were to either touch the children or return she would personally see that he would hang!”

  He sat back and folded his arms and smiled as if in admiration of his wife.

  “Those were her exact words.”

  “Right, I see. So why tell us now.”

  “Goodness, I’m forgetting myself and the main reason I came. It was the connection, you see.”

  “Connection, Mr Baines?”

  “When she saw him in the restaurant, she saw him talking to another chap. She hadn’t met him until Saturday when the very same chap called at our home. She didn’t put two and two together at first. She knew she’d seen him before but she just couldn’t remember where and then it came to her.”

  “So who is he?”

  “Peter Anton, my daughter’s new boyfriend, the man she spent the weekend with, the man who was a friend of Drew.”

  Owen just looked up. “Your daughter doesn’t know you’re here does she?”

  Reg shook his head.

  “Does your daughter know about this money and the threats?”

  “She only knows that Barbara recognised her boyfriend at the restaurant, that she’d told Barbara that he was supposed to be busy that night, that’s why he gave the ticket for them to attend. I can assure you, Sergeant, that Barbara doesn’t like her daughter’s new man, call it a woman’s intuition, I don’t know and I think she’d do anything to get Joan to see through him.”

  “Even lie, Mr Baines? Would Barbara make up stories to frighten Joan off every man she meets? Does Barbara’s very existence not rely on having a large degree of control over the grandchildren’s future and Joan’s and, if you don’t mind my saying so, yours?”

  “I’m sorry, I’ve obviously wasted your time and mine. I neither came here to be insulted, Sergeant, nor did I come to justify my wife’s strange way of caring, but I did come for help. I can now see that you think the whole thing is a sham, a work of fiction on my wife’s part. I’ll bid you good day.”

  Reg stood, moved to the door, paused and turned to face Owen.

  “Should anything happen, Sergeant Owen, to any of my family, I’ll hold you personally responsible. What I’ve told you has been written down and signed by both myself and Barbara and is in the safe keeping of my solicitor with strict instructions as to when it should be opened.”

  ***

  The incident room was full. The evidence, like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, was slowly coming together.

  “It all seems to fall on this one man. Spotted at the side of the road at the time Drew Sadler’s body was dumped, at the death of Negrescu and the attack on the police officer. Involved and possibly responsible for the attack and subsequent murder of James Nolan, DNA for two rapes over a number of years and possibly more, probably involved in dog fighting and God only knows what else. We have a perfect description from one of our own, Owen here, and we hold his DNA. But he’s a ghost. Despite his height and features, nobody’s seen him.”

  “Joan’s mother has, Sir, and as to being a ghost, he was also right under your nose whilst you dined out at the opening night of Zingaro last week.”

  The room fell silent. Owen explained the meeting with Mr Baines in detail.

  “We’ve pussy-footed around Peter Bloody Anton twice and now we find he knows this man. I want him arrested and I want him in this afternoon. I also want you and Liz to go and talk with Mr and Mrs Baines. I want a twenty-four hour watch on the house. If threats have been made, considering this man’s track record, I don’t want a Harrogate citizen’s abduction and murder on my record. Find out where the kids attend school and have a word with the Head Teacher, her staff need to be vigilant but I want confidentiality.”

  “We can do a search of Anton’s property for drugs and DNA without a warrant. Might be a long shot but our man might have been there if they know each other,” Owen offered.

  “No problem.” Cyril reassured on procedurals. “There’s a fear of child abduction and that’ll be upheld. Inform him when you make the arrest. Get the Forensic team in and make the search thorough. Anything on the vehicles, the one seen on the night Drew Sadler was dumped?”

  “Still working through the list, Sir. We’re visiting addresses rather than phoning for details; the likelihood is that if they feel we’re close, the vehicle will be destroyed. We’ve two addresses where owners had similar flat-bed trucks but the vehicles have been scrapped recently.”

  “Prioritise those.”

  Cyril tapped his electronic cigarette against his chin as if to aid his thought process.

  “I’ll pop along and pay Angel and his father a visit. Stuart, you may be my chaperone. I want information back in here by this afternoon, 15:00 briefing and I want Peter Anton sweating in interview room four before then, even if it means dragging him from work.”

  Cyril passed his desk and glanced d
own at a note.

  ‘Drew Sadler’s body will be released tomorrow. Funeral has been arranged for Thursday 2pm. Second autopsy concluded, no surprises! Everyone has pulled out the stops to get the cremation as quickly as possible for the sake of the bereaved. Julie.’

  Frustrated, he checked his diary, remembering Liz’s promise, it was the last thing he wanted to add to his busy week at this stage of the investigation.

  ***

  Angel welcomed Cyril with a firm handshake and a smile. Cyril introduced DC Park. They moved through to the office.

  “Coffee, gentleman?”

  Both declined.

  “Do you have a surname?” Cyril asked unsure as to whether he had mentioned it when they were first introduced.

  “Yau, my father’s.”

  “Your real father, Mr Yau?” Cyril responded whilst maintaining firm eye contact.

  “No, I was adopted at a young age and I don’t know my original surname only my Christian name. Yes, Inspector, don’t look too surprised, I’m a Christian. My real name is Wadim but the name Angel was given to me for some reason when I was very young, I don’t know or care why,” he lied. “What’s this about? You’re certainly not here to ask about my family history.”

  Cyril noted that he not only looked him in the eye but that he also seemed relaxed.

  “What is your connection with Peter Anton, Mr Yau?”

  “He’s my father’s accountant, has been for a couple of years. Chinese business friends recommended him to us and so far, his work has been excellent. You’re sitting in the proof of that financial guidance. We’re one of Mr Anton’s private clients. As you know most accountants have them.”

  “And what about this gentleman?”

  Cyril passed him an EvoFIT image of the man Owen had seen at Rares Negrescu’s trailer.

  Angel looked at it. Shook his head and handed it back.

  “No, sorry! With a face like that you think he’d be easily recognised. We’ve many people using our restaurant. Delivery drivers come and go, workers, health inspectors, even Police Inspectors!”

  Cyril looked at Stuart. He was unhappy with the flippant answer.

  “Go and bring all the staff and line them up outside that door. I’ll show them the photo one at a time and if they all concur with you, Mr Yau, then we’re wasting your time and more importantly, ours.”

  “I’m sorry but they’re busy. Is it normal to just come uninvited into someone’s business and make unreasonable demands? Do you not require some kind of warrant?”

  “Did you see that rat, Stuart? Goodness it was a big one! There’s another!” Cyril pointed behind Angel.

  Stuart had never taken his eyes off Angel.

  “Saw both, sir. Want me to ring Environmental Health? They’d probably only close the place for a few days if they’re lucky. It’d make the time for your staff to take a look at this picture and answer a few questions with our translators. Wouldn’t you agree, Mr Yau?”

  “You can’t do that!” he protested, but then paused considering his options. “Bring them!”

  Stuart went out and into the kitchen. The staff proved to be like a flock of sheep. ‘If you kicked one they would all limp’, Cyril thought. He certainly could have kicked himself for not organising a translator as unfortunately he had to rely on Angel translating, and from looking at his body language, he had escaped lightly. To be honest, Cyril had expected Angel to simply recognise the man then there would not have been the need for all this. He had thought that he would have had a simple and innocent justification for his being there, not having to resort to hiding behind lies.

  It was very obvious that the staff looked constantly for guidance from Angel who glared at each and spoke rapidly. Although there was consistency in the question he asked, Cyril detected that some points made were specific and judging by the facial expressions of some of the staff, threatening. Cyril could prove nothing. Not surprisingly, no one recognised the photo-fit image. Angel smiled and thanked each as they left and Cyril could almost feel their relief.

  It wasn’t until he saw Sanda enter did he sit up. As with the others, he wrote down her name. He remembered witnessing her sadness on the opening night and would have given anything to speak with her alone. He would organise that, but it would not be now. He also noted that she was not as cowed as the others, she neither looked at Angel nor, from her attitude, feared him. She spent longer looking at the photograph too. She turned to Angel and spoke quickly.

  “She says that my father knows him, he’s a Romany and he called to collect some scrap materials that were stored at the back of the restaurant. She remembers that my father was annoyed because he was late, it should have been cleared in the afternoon. My father gave him food in the kitchen, which is why he was inside. I personally knew nothing of this arrangement.”

  Cyril stood, aware of the surprise on Angel’s face. It was true that this was the first time he had heard the story. Maybe he had been telling the truth all along. Cynically, Cyril still held a small percentage of doubt.

  “Thank you very much. I’d like a copy of all your employees’ details by two this afternoon. And, Mr Yau, I do mean everything.”

  He checked his watch.

  “If all of their paperwork is above board, legal and properly in order, it should be easy for you or your secretary to organise. I’ll send an officer to collect.” Cyril held up the list. “I know this isn’t the full extent of your employees.”

  The atmosphere between them was decidedly cold, and a state of armed truce seemed now to be in place.

  “Where’s your father, Mr Yau? I’d like to speak with him to confirm that what,” Cyril looked at his list of names, “Sanda has said is the truth.”

  “He’ll be here this afternoon between three and four.” Angel smiled.

  “That’s not what I asked. It would take me one phone call to determine his address. Let’s try again. Where is your father now?”

  “Tanglewood Farm, off Tang Lane. He should be there. I can call him and check to save you a wasted journey, Inspector.”

  Cyril just shook his head, rejecting the sarcasm.

  “No need, I’m sure one of your staff has already informed him that we’re here and that he’ll be expecting us.”

  ***

  Stuart turned down White Wall Lane before veering onto Tang Lane; it had taken twenty-two minutes. The gate to the farm was closed and Hai Yau was sitting in his car behind it. The area’s aroma was definitely agricultural! Stuart looked at Cyril as if to refute that the smell had come from him!

  ***

  Angel went into the kitchen and approached Sanda who stood holding an onion in one hand and a large vegetable knife in the other. She put up the hand holding the onion to suggest he come no closer.

  “Did my father tell you to say that?”

  She shook her head. “He was here, I saw him, guests saw him and he stands out in any crowd so he cannot be swept under the carpet. At least you now have some time.”

  “I see you have three precious talents, Sanda. Maybe we could go to your room and discover the first all over again. I can thank you properly.”

  “I have work and you need to tell your father.”

  “It’s done.”

  Angel looked into Sanda’s eyes, where he saw the same look he had seen as a child in the eyes of the man who had abducted him; a cocktail of purpose and coldness.

  “Another time, I hope, another time.” He smiled, turning to leave, trying not to lose face.

  ***

  On seeing the car pull up, Hai Yau climbed out. “Inspector Bennett, it’s a pleasure to see you again. I remember your kind words to me on our opening night. Angel called to say you were on your way. I stopped here as I was coming to the restaurant to check if the preparation and cleaning are going to plan.”

  “Chief Inspector, It’s Detective Chief Inspector,” he corrected. “Would your son not do that?”

  “Not in my kitchen. No! No! No! Detective Chief Inspector,
sorry,” he said, waving his finger. “You have a picture to show me?”

  Stuart handed him the photograph.

  “I don’t know him too well, in fact I know little about him. Others have warned me that he can be an aggressive person, moody and quick to anger. He collects scrap, bits of building materials, metal and the like. One of my staff, who has sadly left for some unknown reason, knew him and that’s how I contacted this man. His name is Cezar; I was given a mobile number. When he called at the restaurant, he was late and I was cross. He should have come at three and he came just before nine on the day we opened. You cannot trust these Romany types, Inspector, believe me.”

  “Angel mentioned that he was himself of Romany origin and seemed proud of his heritage.”

  “That might be true, but that was when he was a baby, before he was adopted. I trust my son and so can you.”

  Stuart turned away. He had heard bullshit before and what with the smell, they had it here in spade loads.

  “You said his name was Cezar. Do you have a surname? Do you have his number?”

  Hai Yau took out his mobile, put on some reading glasses and read out the number. “No surname. Don’t know whether that’s his real name either.”

  Cyril tapped the numbers into his phone and it rang. Stuart had copied them onto his pad and he moved away to call the station to get phone records for the number.

  The call was answered and a mechanical voice informed Cyril that the person was not available at the moment and to leave a message. Cyril hung up.

  “Busy scrap man! Has he been to the restaurant before?”

  “He came a couple of times when we were building, but that’s all.”

  “Do you always feed him?”

  “Yes, it is part of my culture. I also welcome him to use the bathroom or he would simply use the car park.”

  Cyril paused at the thought. “Thank you. We’ll detain you no longer.”

  ***

  The incident room was busy; there was a gentle, but industrious hum of voices. Some officers checked the white boards and others computer screens. Cyril tapped his electronic cigarette on the table. People stopped and found a perch.

 

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