Turning the corner she deliberately took the pace out of her stride and tucked herself against the low front walls of the houses as she headed further into the street. She still couldn’t see any sign of Alex and it made her feel edgy.
Up ahead the man came to a T-junction. A high wall was directly before him and behind the wall loomed two blocks of redbrick maisonettes. Here he stopped and for the first time looked behind. There was a road opening to her left and without altering her pace she turned into it. After taking another half a dozen steps and confident she was out of his line of sight, she dashed back to the corner.
Once again he had disappeared. This was so frustrating. Where was Alex? She put in a jog, trying her best not to make too much sound, which was proving difficult as her rubber-soled boots splashed through standing water. Nearing the junction at the top of the road she slowed. The sign in front read Kensington Place. She logged it in her memory. She stepped into the street, looking quickly left and right.
The road was empty.
Where had he gone? It was along straight stretch of road. He couldn’t have just vanished.
She was about to head off left when she heard a loud “Psst!” and she spun around to see Alex emerging from a dark entranceway ten yards along. He beckoned to her and she joined him.
“He’s gone into those flats up there.” Alex flicked his gaze behind him to the second block of maisonettes.
“Aren’t we following him?”
“You are doing no more following. He’s already seen you back there before you turned off. If he sees you again, that’ll be it.”
“Then what are we going to do? We can’t just leave it at this.”
“No we’re not. He’s not seen me, so I’m going to do a recce of those flats and see what I can see. You stay here, and if you don’t hear from me in half an hour call in the troops.”
With that Alex set off toward the maisonettes.
****
Scarlett was beginning to feel nervous. It was coming up to twenty minutes since Alex had left. The last thing she wanted to do was call in the police. What would she say to them? She had just started to run through a number of scenarios when he emerged up ahead. She was so relieved.
He jogged back to her.
Joining her he said, “Think I’ve found them. Flat on the fourth floor. There’s a black anarchist flag hanging out of one of the windows.”
Scarlett stepped out from the entranceway and began walking.
“Where are you going?”
She stopped and stared back. “To give them a knock.”
He shook his head. “Scarlett! If you were running an operation, would you go in on your own, all guns blazing, with no intelligence?”
After a couple of seconds she answered, “Well, no.”
“Exactly. And that’s exactly why we aren’t doing anything further tonight. I know someone who works with the council. I’ll make some enquiries tomorrow and then we’ll take it from there.”
Scarlett was about to say something when Alex leaned forward and pressed a finger firmly on her lips.
“No arguments, Scarlett. Let’s see how the land lies before we do anything else.”
Twenty-eight
After calling a halt to their surveillance, Scarlett and Alex jumped on the train, got off at Richmond and called into the pub opposite the station for a much-needed drink. As they sated their thirst they discussed the next steps of their plan to snare Rose. They weren’t planning for long, both of them deciding they could also do with some food. They finished their drinks and, re-energised, left the pub and yomped up Kew Road to seek out a place to eat. They settled on a Chinese restaurant they had been to previously. As they chose from the menu Scarlett told Alex about the next morning’s raids. She added, “I’m afraid I’m going to have to do a disappearing act once we’ve eaten.”
Glancing over the top of his menu he said, “I can take a hint, you know.”
Smiling, she replied, “I don’t mean it like that. It’s just that I need to be up for five. I’m co-ordinating the raids.”
He half laughed. “I’m only joking. To be honest, Scarlett, I could do with an early night myself.”
****
By eight-thirty they had finished their meal, split the bill and with an embracing hug parted company.
Scarlett walked the short distance home mulling over the evening’s events. The more she thought about the outcome the more she could feel frustration creeping up on her. By the time she had reached home she needed another drink. Slipping off her shoes and coat she made for the fridge, where she took out a half-drunk bottle of white wine and poured herself a glass. Then she run herself a hot bath and languished in it with her eyes closed while sipping her chilled wine, trying her best to put the evening’s disappointment behind her. By the time she had finished the glass she could feel herself beginning to relax, and by the time she climbed into bed she could feel sleep catching her up. Setting the alarm for five a.m. she crashed out.
****
Scarlett awoke with a start to the sound of her alarm. She’d slept like a log. Following a quick shower, she got dressed, made up her face and even found time to make herself a coffee before Tarn arrived to pick her up. As she climbed into his car she was surprised at how fresh she felt.
They had arranged to meet everyone at Norwood Green nick, where the Neighbourhood Policing Team worked from, and the drive across there was an easy one – the roads hadn’t yet started to fill up. As Tarn drove, Scarlett read over the operational order and checked the warrants for the morning’s busts. By the time they had arrived she had rehearsed what she needed to say at the briefing.
Scarlett and Tarn entered a ground-floor room where the raid team were waiting. Bouncing her gaze from one person to another Scarlett noted that they appeared relaxed, nursing warm drinks and talking in hushed voices, but at the same time she could sense an air of expectation within the room.
Someone had set up a whiteboard displaying mugshots of Jamie Hill and Dane Rolletts next to their digital e-fits. Also added were blown-up sections of A–Z street maps showing the locations of both target’s addresses.
Scarlett unfurled her papers and strolled to the whiteboard. “Morning everyone,” she said, facing the team. Beside Tarn and DCs Ella Bloom and George Martin from her syndicate, she recognised a number of faces. There were four detectives from Southall CID, a couple of officers from Ealing Intelligence Unit and a dozen officers from Task Force. She rapped her knuckles over Jamie Hill’s photograph. “Our targets of this morning’s raids.” She continued by introducing each of the villain’s backgrounds and detailing their convictions and gave an update into the murder enquiry. “Though there is as yet no evidence to link them to the killing of our victim they are certainly in the vicinity of where she was discovered five days ago, having dumped a vehicle they had stolen from a burglary only a few hundred yards away. We can forensically place that stolen vehicle in the lane that leads down to where the body was found, and it is therefore imperative that we determine what they were doing in that location on the morning of when she was found.” Scarlett pointed to the e-fits. "This is the clothing we believe the pair were wearing that morning. A priority is to find that and seize it.” Scarlett went on to explain how the body was butchered after death. “We also haven’t found the location where the victim was killed, and although these two live with their families, and you wouldn’t think something of this nature would have been done in their own homes, stranger things have happened. So we are also looking for any unusual and unexplained blood splatter at these addresses, a large serrated knife and a hand-held electric grinder.” Scarlett wrapped things up by placing the officers into two teams, giving each a target address and identifying individual members’ roles once inside the premises. Finally, she checked the time with each team and coordinated the busts for eight a.m.
****
Scarlett was with Tarn driving to Jamie Hill’s home. Two detectives from Southall CID in their own
unmarked car led the way; they had had previous dealings with Jamie and knew where best to park so as not to spoil the element of surprise. Backing up the convoy were half a dozen officers from Task Force.
Hill’s address was on the sixth floor in a block of flats. She, Tarn and the two CID officers rode the cranky lift while Task Force took the stairs. They met at the end of the corridor and soft-shoed their way along to Hill’s front door.
Scarlett hammered several times on the wooden panel. The sound echoed along the bare corridor. Within thirty seconds a female voice shouted out a grumpy “Hello?” from inside. Scarlett lowered herself, lifted the letter flap and called through, “Police, Mrs Hill, open up.” A few seconds later she heard a couple of bolts being drawn back and a key turn in the lock before the door opened.
Mrs Hill was a thin, scrawny woman with crimson-dyed spiky hair. Her face was heavily lined and had a weary look. The dressing gown she was wearing was in need of a wash.
Scarlett knew from their intelligence that Mrs Hill was only in her mid-forties, but as she scrutinised her face she thought she looked older.
Mrs Hill held the door half open. She scowled at Scarlett and then cast her sight over her shoulder at the rest of her team behind her. “What the fuck do you lot want, banging us up at this time of the morning?” Her London accent was broad.
Scarlett held back a grin. “Good morning, Mrs Hill. Is Jamie in? We’d like a little word with him.”
“What the fuck about? He was here all last night.”
“I’ve no doubt he was Mrs Hill, but it’s not about last night. It’s about something that happened a few days ago.” Scarlett stepped over the threshold, fanning the warrant at her.
Mrs Hill locked gazes with Scarlett for a few seconds and made a weak attempt at offering a hateful stare. Then she huffed loudly, stepped back and turned on her heel. Shuffling away she mumbled, “Fucking harassment, is what this is. He gets blamed for everything that goes on round here.”
Scarlett stepped after her, beckoning back over her shoulder for her team to follow. She directed Tarn and the two Southall detectives up the stairs.
Abruptly, Mrs Hill stopped, lifted her head to the ceiling and shouted, “Jamie, get yourself up. Old Bill are here.” With that she peeled left through an open doorway and disappeared.
Scarlett could make out through the gap that it was the kitchen. She heard the kettle being switched on and the sound of several cups clinking together. She stepped past the kitchen door and strolled through into the lounge. A rank smell of stale food and cigarettes greeted her. The place was a dump. Various items of clothing littered the floor and the furniture. Spread out over a small coffee table in the centre of the room was an array of polystyrene cartons, some of which contained gelled remnants of food. It looked like a cold Chinese takeaway. There were empty cups and glasses everywhere. A faux-leather sofa, in front of the large window, had a tear in one of the back support cushions and foam poked through.
A scuffling noise upstairs brought back her attention. It was soon followed by cries of protestation.
“What the fuck do you lot want? This is a fucking joke, you muppets.”
It was a young man’s voice. Scarlett guessed that Tarn and the Southall detectives had found Jamie.
The same person shouted, “Alright, I said I’m getting up. Hold your fucking horses.”
There was a moment’s silence and then a loud yelp went up and Scarlett picked out the sound of more scuffles above her, followed by heavy footfalls. She went back out into the hallway just as Jamie Hill appeared at the top of the stairs in handcuffs. He had on a T-shirt and jogging pants, though the jogging pants looked as if they would fall from his hips at any moment. He was scrawny just like his mother.
Jamie was yelling, “I said I was coming, didn’t I? There’s no need for the fucking rough stuff!”
Tarn, and one of the Southall detective’s had hold of Jamie’s arms and he was making a feeble attempt at shaking himself free.
Mrs Hill appeared in the kitchen doorway, clutching a lighted cigarette. She aimed it at Tarn like a loaded gun. “If he’s marked, you’ll pay. Anyway what’s he supposed to have done?”
Scarlett saw Mrs Hill meet her son’s gaze.
Jamie’s eyes widened. “They say they want to talk to me about a body what’s been found in the Thames.”
Mrs Hill’s shocked look ping-ponged between her son and Scarlett. “A body! What body?”
“The body of a young woman was found in the Thames at Richmond,” Scarlett answered.
“That body that was on the news?”
Scarlett nodded.
Mrs Hill focussed on her son, who was just stepping down off the bottom stair.
He said, “That’s not me, Mum! Honest! I haven’t killed nobody. This is a stitch-up.”
Mrs Hill pushed her way past Scarlett and stormed towards the lounge. She called back, “I’ll get onto Mr Campbell, Jamie. Don’t you say nothing ‘til your brief arrives.” Then she went out of view.
As Tarn and the Southall detective led Jamie towards the front door, Scarlett picked up the sound of items being tossed aside coming from the lounge.
Mrs Hill’s voice shouted back, “Don’t say fuck all, Jamie. I’m on the phone right now.”
Twenty-nine
In an interview room at Ealing Custody Suite, Jamie Hill stared defiantly across the table at Scarlett and Tarn. Sitting next to him was his solicitor. Trevor Campbell was a balding, overweight man in his late forties, with a tanned complexion that looked recent. His pen was poised over a legal pad.
Scarlett introduced herself and Tarn and went into the customary interview preamble. She told Jamie Hill that the interview was being video recorded and cautioned him. Before her, in two neat piles, she had her interview notes and a number of sealed exhibits. Among them was a blue hoody with an orange Vans logo across the chest; Task Force officers had found it in a pile of dirty clothing in the bathroom.
Jamie’s house was still being searched. As was Dane Rolletts’s, who was currently in the interview room next door with DCs George Martin and Ella Bloom.
Scarlett said, “Jamie you have already been told the reason why you are here?”
Jamie folded his arms defensively and leaned back in his chair. “Because you’re accusing me of killing a woman and dumping her in the river.”
“You’re not being accused of killing anyone, but we do want to talk to you about a woman’s body that was discovered on the banks of the River Thames five days ago. But before that I want to talk to you about the offence for which you have been arrested this morning. You have been arrested for burglary at a house in Hounslow where a car was stolen. Namely a BMW 530d M Sport.”
“Yeah and when was this supposed to have happened?”
“Six days ago.”
“I was at home in bed that night. Ask my mum.”
“I never said the burglary was at night.” Scarlett watched Jamie’s acne-peppered face colour up.
“No comment.”
“That BMW was involved in a car chase with traffic police in the early hours of the morning following the burglary, and it was found abandoned in the public car park at Ham House. What do you know about that?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “No comment.”
“Someone tried to burn that car with rags and petrol. What do you know about that?”
He again made no comment.
“Well after they tried to fire the car, the two offenders walked along the towpath where they were seen by a witness who was walking his dog. In fact one of those offenders said “Morning” to him. Ring any bells?”
Tight lipped, he said, “None.”
“Well the witness described to us what those two young men were wearing and gave us e-fits. One of those young men was wearing a blue hoody with a Vans logo across the chest. And the owners of the house that was broken into in Hounslow also gave e-fits of the two offenders who took their BMW. And, surprise, surprise, one of those was
wearing a blue hoody with a Vans logo across the front.” Scarlett picked up the exhibit bag containing the blue hoody and slid it across the table. “And lo and behold, this morning we found one exactly like that in your bathroom. Don’t you think that’s some coincidence?”
He shrugged. “So?”
“So, we also recovered the rag that was used to try and burn the BMW. I already told you that it failed to burn properly. Well, because of that we were able to get DNA from the rag, which by the way was a torn piece of T-shirt, and guess what? Surprise, surprise again, it had your DNA all over it.” Scarlett broke into a smile.
Jamie Hill didn’t immediately answer. Instead he stared across the table. Several seconds later he snarled, “No fucking comment.”
Scarlett held Jamie’s gaze for a while. “Look Jamie, I’m not going to beat about the bush here. There is a reason why I said we wanted to talk to you about the body in the Thames. The body was discovered not far from where you and Dane dumped the BMW you stole from the house in Hounslow. It was found on the banks of the Thames near a jetty at the bottom of River Lane. That’s about a quarter of a mile from where you left the BMW. On River Lane we found tyre marks that match perfectly with the front offside tyre of the stolen BMW, so we know that car was on that lane. We also have a witness who describes seeing and talking with two young men only a hundred yards from where the body was discovered. Two young men who fit you and Dane to a tee! Do you see where I’m going with this Jamie?”
Scream, You Die Page 12