Hell to Pay

by Rachel Amphlett

  She peered over Carys’s head to where Barnes and O’Reilly stood, their expressions impassive as they watched Harrison send Gavin and two other men running to the locked front and rear doors of the nightclub.

  From their position at the end of the alleyway that ran behind the building, Kay could make out a series of dirty windows that would’ve provided a view of the raid, except for the fact that grime covered the panes beyond the steel bars that filled the frames.

  A Chinese takeaway had once been housed in the section of the building closest to where she stood, but she knew the family that owned it had been hounded away by Demiri’s thugs over a year ago. The property on the opposite side of the nightclub hadn’t housed a tenant in nearly five years.

  Her right eye twitched, and she resisted the urge to rub at it. She refocused on her breathing, waiting for the command to proceed.

  Any minute—

  A crash echoed off the walls of the alleyway as the back door to the nightclub was breached, closely followed by a similar sound from the front of the building.

  Kay edged forward on her toes, and heard Carys’s sharp intake of breath.

  ‘Come on,’ she muttered.

  A crackle of static burst to life through the radio in Sharp’s hand, and he muttered a response to the team in the building before turning his attention to the waiting police officers.

  ‘We’re clear to proceed.’

  He led them past three overflowing industrial-sized waste bins, the stink of waste assaulting Kay’s nostrils as she tried not to think about the poor crime scene investigator who would be tasked with sifting through the contents.

  A distinct stench of urine clung to the pitted surface under her feet and she grimaced as a large rat scurried across her path before disappearing through a gap under a padlocked door.

  In moments, they were at the breached back entryway to the nightclub.

  ‘Right, you’ve had a chance to look at the plans for the place,’ said Sharp. ‘Kay and Carys, I want you to search the ground floor offices. Take Dave Morrison and Aaron Stewart with you to record what you find. Keep your eyes open for anything that might give us some indication as to when another lot of people are arriving.’

  ‘Guv.’ Kay signalled to two uniformed officers to join them and led the way along an unlit corridor towards what would have been the nightclub manager’s office.

  She’d only met Morrison and Stewart after the morning’s briefing had concluded. After quick introductions though, she was convinced of their capabilities and training – DCI Harrison would have insisted on only his most trusted people to carry out the raid, and they seemed as focused and keen as she that Demiri be locked away.

  ‘What do you think our chances are of finding something if he knows about Jenkins?’ said Carys.

  ‘Slightly less than zero, but it’s got to be done,’ said Kay. She squinted as the lights overhead flickered to life. ‘Seems they forgot to turn the power off before closing up.’

  ‘Thank Christ for that,’ said Stewart. ‘Didn’t fancy doing this by torchlight.’ He flipped his torch into his utility belt and pulled on gloves. ‘Ready when you are, Sarge.’

  Kay nodded, and pushed against the door to the office.

  It swung open freely, and she reached inside and flipped the light switch.

  A strip of fluorescent lights flashed twice across the ceiling before saturating the office with a pale white hue.

  A window to Kay’s right provided a view across the club’s dance floor, and she realised as she watched her colleagues moving across it towards the bar and the rooms beyond that it was mirrored on the other side. The manager could keep an eye on proceedings unnoticed.

  A liquor cabinet had been placed under the window, while a two-seater leather sofa to one side of it still held the indentation of where someone had recently sat.

  To her right, three filing cabinets stood against the wall, the drawers open and paper strewn across the floor. The desk in front of her was in a similar state and above that, a wall safe yawned open, its contents missing.

  Kay sighed, and raised the radio to her lips. ‘Guv? Looks like the place has been deserted in a hurry.’

  Static spat through the speaker before Sharp responded. ‘The bar and front area of the club has been stripped, too. We’ve missed them. You know what to do.’

  ‘Got it.’ She turned to the officers beside her and clipped the radio to her belt. ‘Okay, split up. Dave, Aaron – you take the filing cabinets. Carys, help me see if we can salvage anything from the desk and drawers.’

  They worked in silence, the sounds of their colleagues working their way through the rest of the club reaching Kay’s ears as she sifted through the day-to-day workings of a busy town venue.

  Suppliers’ receipts, copies of licences for serving alcohol and late night openings were all she found to the side of the desk. She lifted her gaze to where Carys was making an inventory of the remainder, and pushed the tidied stacks of invoices towards her.

  ‘We’re going to be here for days,’ Carys grumbled.

  Kay didn’t respond. Instead, she stretched her back and peered around at the room once more.

  The decor appeared to have been well kept; the paintwork to the panelled walls appeared fresh, and even Kay had to admit the artwork on the walls was tasteful.

  Compared with the dingy back of the club they’d entered through, this room was designed to impress.

  Her thoughts returned to her conversation with Gareth Jenkins the day before.

  If Demiri was providing an exclusive service to some of his clients, and the sort of service was what Jenkins had alleged, then they’d expect a certain level of luxury to their surroundings, she’d bet.

  She turned and stared through the window to the public area of the club, then back to the room, and frowned.

  She tugged her radio from her belt.

  ‘Guv? Has anyone found anything to substantiate Gareth’s claims?’

  ‘Negative. Not yet.’

  ‘Okay, thanks.’

  She shoved the radio back into place and exhaled.

  ‘Sarge? Might have something here.’

  She spun on her heel to see Stewart jerking his thumb over his shoulder at the panelled walls next to the safe.

  Kay frowned, and moved closer. ‘What’s that?’

  He stood to one side so she could see, and pointed at a metal clasp set between two panels.

  ‘I’ve seen something like this before. At a bloke’s place in Lenham. He was a banker in the city, and he got burgled one night – bundled his wife and two kids into a custom-built panic room. The hinges on it looked like this.’

  Kay ran a gloved hand over the silver-coloured clasp.

  ‘Any idea how to get it open?’

  ‘If it’s been sealed from the inside, then we haven’t got a chance in hell of doing it ourselves,’ he said. ‘But otherwise, if we apply pressure to the panels like this, we might find a way.’

  He pushed his palm against the indented panel next to the clasp, but nothing happened.

  ‘All right. Let’s do this systematically,’ said Kay. ‘You start from that corner. I’ll take this one. We move in a grid pattern, got it?’

  She was aware of Carys and Morrison moving beside them, but kept her focus on the panels as she and Stewart worked their way across the wall.

  Finally, after she was almost ready to concede defeat, a faint click could be heard under Stewart’s touch, and they stepped back in surprise as a whole section of the wall receded.

  ‘Bingo,’ she murmured, and grabbed her torch.

  A narrow landing lay on the opposite side of the opening leading to a flight of concrete steps that descended from the office level.

  ‘All these old buildings down by the river were built with cellars,’ said Stewart, peering over her shoulder. ‘I remember reading about it once. That’s what made me think of it.’

  ‘Good work,’ said Kay. She swung her torch down the stairwell.
<
br />   Stale air wafted up to where they stood at the door opening, a strong scent tainted with body odour – and something else.

  Something less tangible.

  ‘What’s that smell?’ said Carys, her voice a notch higher.

  ‘Fear,’ said Kay. ‘I think we found what we were looking for.’

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Kay stepped back into the office and pulled her radio free.

  ‘Guv? We’ve found something in the manager’s office at the back of the building. Looks like the original cellar or something. It was concealed behind a hidden door. I’ll have Stewart stay at the entrance to it in case it swings shut, but I’m taking Carys and Morrison with me to take a look.’

  ‘Understood. On my way. Maintain radio contact, Hunter.’

  ‘Will do.’

  She signed off, then raised her chin so she could look Aaron Stewart in the eye. ‘I reckon I’m going to struggle enough with the low ceiling down there if the other cellars I’ve seen around this town are anything to go by. You stay here and guide Inspector Sharp when he arrives, and keep that door open, you understand?’

  ‘Sarge.’

  She resisted the urge to shudder at the thought of being entombed below the nightclub if the door swung shut.

  ‘Carys, Dave, you’re with me. Stay alert. Single file. Carys, I want you in the middle, got that? No deviating from the path I set.’

  ‘Got it.’

  ‘Understood.’

  Kay nodded. Thankfully, her colleagues were well experienced and she didn’t have to explain that if they found evidence, then the ensuing crime scene investigation would be hampered by any of them not keeping to a strict path in and out of the cellar.

  ‘All right, let’s go.’

  She shone her torch along the wall until she found a panel of switches, and pressed each one. To her relief, lights in the ceiling flickered to life, illuminating their way. She pushed her torch back into her belt, ignored the handrail set into the side of the wall, and made her way down the short flight of stairs.

  She could hear Carys’s breath as they descended, the younger detective’s fear all too palpable, but she fought down the urge to turn back.

  She had a job to do.

  She paused at the bottom of the stairs, her heartbeat thudding in her ears.

  Casting her eyes around the room, she saw that the basement area took up half of the above-ground space, and had been lined from floor to ceiling with large ceramic tiles.

  A shudder passed through her body when she noticed the drain in the middle of the room, a past case flashing in her memory before she exhaled and discarded the thought.

  As she raised her gaze, she fought the urge to flee.

  Manacles had been set into the wall, dark stains covering the tiles below, aged and stubborn against removal.

  She swallowed, then jumped at a tap on her shoulder.

  ‘Sarge?’

  She could hear the tremor in Carys’s voice, but took a step forward, further into the room so her colleagues could follow.

  She moved towards the back of the room, her eyes roaming over a steel table onto which a series of knives and other implements had been laid out as if by a craftsman proud of his work.

  ‘Look.’

  She turned at Morrison’s voice, and looked to where he pointed, dread consuming her at the tone of his voice.

  Blood splattered up the far corner of a wall, and the beam from Morrison’s torch wavered as he shone it on the floor tiles.

  A single tooth lay amongst a clump of hair.

  ‘Enough.’

  Kay spun on her heel and raced across the room, then up the narrow concrete staircase.

  Sharp stood at the doorway to the cellar, his face troubled when she appeared, but she shook her head, unable to speak.

  Instead, she pushed her way past him, leaving the office behind and staggering along the corridor to the chink of light that shone through the gap in the back door.

  She shoved it open and stumbled into the alleyway, closing her eyes against the bright sunshine, her hands on her hips as she forced fresh air into her lungs.

  Footsteps clattered behind her, and she turned around as Carys tumbled out through the door, her face pale.

  The detective constable placed a gloved hand on the red brick wall of the empty Chinese takeaway shop and leaned over. She held up her other hand as Kay approached.

  ‘I’m okay, I’m not going to be sick. I just—’

  ‘Yeah. I know.’

  Kay glanced over her shoulder as the back door slammed open once more on its broken hinges, and Sharp appeared.

  He buttoned his suit jacket over his chest as he drew closer, and Kay noticed his hands shaking as he cast his eyes over the younger detective.

  ‘You going to be all right, Miles?’

  ‘Guv.’

  ‘What about you, Hunter?’

  His grey eyes swept over her, concern furrowing his forehead.

  She took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly.

  ‘Yeah. I’ll be okay.’

  ‘Sir, we found this a moment ago.’

  They both turned at the sound of Morrison’s voice, a quiver on the edges of his words as he strode towards them, his face grey.

  He held up a wire, and Kay took it from him with shaking hands.

  She recognised the blue colour all too well.

  ‘It’s an audio-visual cable – same as you’d use for your home entertainment system to connect it to speakers, or cameras,’ he said.

  I know, thought Kay. He put them in my house, too.

  She handed it over to Sharp, their eyes locking.

  He recognised it, too – thanks to his ex-military contacts, the microphones and miniature cameras she’d discovered in her house had been removed covertly, without alerting Demiri to the fact his surveillance had been thwarted. That recording equipment now sat hidden in a bank’s safe deposit box to which only she and Sharp had keys.

  ‘Looks like Demiri was filming what his clients were doing down here,’ said Morrison.

  ‘He gave himself some insurance, so they wouldn’t talk about the place and betray him,’ said Kay, turning the wire between her fingers. ‘Jesus, what a monster.’

  ‘Those poor women,’ said Carys. ‘All they wanted was a new life.’

  ‘And this is how they paid for it. Hell of a way to go,’ said Sharp, and visibly shivered. ‘In all my years working on this team, I’ve never seen anything as bad as what’s down here.’

  Kay peered back at the nightclub. ‘He’s going to pay for this,’ she snarled.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Kay’s mobile phone started ringing as she pushed her key into the front door lock and stumbled into the hallway.

  Jostling the two shopping bags in her hand, she dropped her handbag onto the bottom stair tread, placed the bags at her feet and answered it a split second before it went to voicemail.

  ‘Hi – how’s it going?’

  ‘You sound out of breath – everything okay?’

  She could hear the note of panic in Adam’s voice over the miles.

  ‘I’m fine – you caught me as I was walking through the front door, that’s all.’ She moved her phone from one hand to the other as she shrugged off her jacket and placed it over the bannister before picking up the shopping bags and making her way through to the kitchen. ‘So, what’s it like?’

  ‘Good, good. I’m really glad I came, to be honest.’

  ‘There you go. If you’d stayed here, you’d have missed out. How did your presentation go?’

  ‘Fantastic. I’ve made some more contacts – one of the chaps I got speaking with has a practice down in Devon I’ll go and see next month—’

  Kay let his voice wash over her, his enthusiasm and the normality of his words settling her after the trauma of the search at the nightclub. As she listened to him, she unpacked the bags, flipped the kettle on and settled at the worktop.

  ‘What about you?’

&nb
sp; His words jerked her from her relaxed state.

  ‘Kay?’

  ‘Sorry. I was thinking.’

  She rubbed at her right eye, and sniffed.

  ‘You all right?’

  ‘Yeah. Tough day, that’s all.’

  ‘Well, I’m only sat here in an empty hotel bar all by myself with an average glass of Pinot Noir if you want to tell me about it?’

  ‘No – no, that’s okay. Thanks, though. Did you manage to catch up with that bloke you were hoping to meet?’

  ‘Yes – he’s picking me up from the hotel tomorrow morning so we’ll be out for most of the day. I expect the mobile reception will be crap, too, so if you need me—’

  ‘Really, everything’s okay.’ She smiled, letting warmth into her voice. ‘You don’t have to worry about me, promise.’

  ‘You’ve got all the security lights on, yeah?’

  ‘Yes.’

  She proceeded to tell him about the visit from her colleagues the previous night, and he laughed.

  ‘You’ll never hear the end of it now.’

  ‘You’re right there. Thank goodness it’s only four weeks until it’s Gavin’s turn to host us – they might have forgiven me by then.’

  ‘How are Bonnie and Clyde?’

  ‘Well, you’ll be pleased to hear that Clyde’s skin is healing well.’

  ‘Oh, that is good news. I’ll make a veterinary nurse out of you yet.’

  ‘That’s if they’re still here when you get back. I think Carys has her eye on them.’

  Laughter rang down the line. ‘I might have known. What about work?’

  They chatted for another twenty minutes, and then Adam mentioned his stomach was rumbling, so Kay shooed him off the call and promised to phone him the next night when he returned from his extended trip to the racing stables.

  As she ended the call, a gust of wind blew against the kitchen window and she shuddered, glad it was he who would be braving the elements in the name of research, and not her.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven