It took about half an hour for Jack T’Baht to realise that he had lost track of Ivana Jakonowski. And why. He thrust his car into gear and sped to Ivana’s home address praying for the prophet’s intervention in his time of need. He pulled into the car park outside the run down block of flats where Ivana stayed and stared at her windows. The curtains were open but no lights were showing. T’Baht was in near panic. He knew he would have to contact French to report what had happened but could think of nothing reasonable to say by way of an explanation. He reached for his Koran but stopped as he saw a familiar figure rounding the corner of the block. Ivana Jakonowski was carrying a Lidl carrier bag and talking on her mobile phone. She looked happy but her happiness was nothing compared to the relief Jack T’Baht felt. As if on cue, T’Baht’s radio sounded.
French’s voice swept over T’Baht as if she were sitting beside him. ‘All OK, Jack?’
‘Everything is fine. Ivana has arrived home safely and I am in the car park outside her flat.’
‘That will probably be you for the night, Jack. When Frame and I spoke to her before, she said she didn’t go out much.’
‘That’s OK. The down time lets me think. What about you, are you off home soon?’
‘No, I’m on call same as you. I’m meeting the boss for something to eat but I’ll keep in contact.’
‘Right. Well, I’ll be in touch if anything happens.’
‘OK.’
French turned her attentions to Healy. ‘How’s things your end, Matt?’
‘Even less exciting than Jack’s; at least he’s had some movement. Turner’s still in his bedsit but I get the feeling he does go out at night so I’m expecting things to liven up later.’
French sensed some slurring in Healy’s voice but wasn’t sure if Rab Brown’s comments about Healy buying a bottle weren’t putting thoughts in her head.
‘OK. Let me know if he does head out.’
‘Sure.’
Switching channels, French spoke to Brown. ‘Were you listening there, Rab? What do you think?’
‘Hard to say. He’s had a few swigs of whatever it is but, as you said yourself, it could be lemonade for all we know.’
At 8.00pm the lights went out in both Turner’s bedsit and Jakonowski’s flat. Ivana went to bed to read and save on electricity and Turner headed to the close door to wait for his taxi drawing up. Brown recognised Turner straight away, glanced over at Healy; he appeared to be dozing. Turner’s cab drew up, Turner got in and the taxi moved off. Still no movement from Healy. Brown was unsure whether to follow Turner or watch Healy. He suddenly realised that Healy would not recognise his car from that distance in the dark and that the taxi would have to do a U turn at the bottom of the road and pass Healy on the way out. He slunk down in his seat and blasted his car horn. Healy woke with a start. His eyes focused as a car approached. He recognised Turner in the passenger seat. He quickly covered his face with one hand while starting his car up with the other. Turner’s taxi turned right at the end of the street; Healy screeched round mounting the kerb and swept around the corner after the taxi. Brown followed. Healy was somehow surprised that the taxi seemed to be heading into the city centre. He didn’t see Turner as a Night Club type but how else is he going to meet women, Matt? But at Charing Cross the taxi veered off to the left away from the city centre and headed towards the motorway. Brown, who was keeping a discreet distance behind Healy, was nearly left behind by the traffic light changes, but just edged through on time. He couldn’t help but notice that Healy’s driving was erratic and wondered if he would be able to track the taxi at all. It took only a couple of minutes for the taxi to reach the cut off for Springburn and Sighthill. Although in two different cars Turner and Brown both came to the same conclusion at the same time; Turner was heading to Ivana Jakonowski’s flat.
Healy grabbed his radio and tried to contact T’Baht. By the third attempt he was in full anger mode. ‘TBaht, you fuck where the hell are you? Turner’s on his way to Ivana’s flat.’ The radio then slipped out of his hand. He jerked down to retrieve it while trying to keep track of the taxi and didn’t see the other taxi approaching from his right until it was too late. He managed to swerve and avoid the full force of the impact but a collision was inevitable and Healy’s car was spun around in a full circle as the taxi ploughed into his back end. Healy’s head smashed into the side window and all went black.
Brown raced up to the accident and flashed his warrant card to the taxi driver who, remarkably, seemed unhurt. ‘I’ll get an ambulance organised and don’t worry this guy is a police officer too; there will be no problem with the insurance or anything.’
Joe Turner’s taxi carried on.
***
Ivana was happy. Her new job was better paid than the hotel, she was able to send money back to Poland and Artur, her boyfriend, was coming over to see her the following week. If he got a job he would maybe stay.
The knock on the door had surprised her, she didn’t get many visitors, especially at this time of night, but when the voice said “Immigration Officer” she was slightly concerned. The door had had a peep hole at one time but lazy council painters, or vandals, had painted over it. She was shocked when the figure at the door pushed into the flat as soon as the door was even slightly open.
Authority the same the world over.
She thought, for a fleeting moment that she recognised him, she felt rather than saw the sudden movement of his hand, was stunned when she thought the official had punched her.
The single knife wound to her heart ended all her thoughts.
Azrael had been going to remove a few items from the flat, a desperate junkie’s search for funds, the shit hole she lived in and the trolls that inhabited that area of the “dear green place” assumed to be the true backdrop to her killing. Drugs and a complete absence of conscience or humanity had been Ivana’s neighbours.
But the flat was so bare there was nothing to take.
Azrael shook his head; Ivana Jakonowski didn’t even have a CD player.
Jack T’Baht’s mind seemed to re-focus on the present of its own volition as opposed to any conscious effort on his part. He picked up his phone and panic and confusion overtook him. Rab Brown had left three messages on his mobile asking where he was and to get up to Jakonowski’s flat straight away.
Susan Dornan felt the most relaxed she had felt for weeks. She liked Jill French and thought she had the making of a good cop: whatever that is! She had asked French about the surveillances and was satisfied that everything was in hand. Neither she nor French realised that the wine bar they had picked was a dead zone as far as radio reception went.
French came back from the bar with two soft drinks; their alcohol limit reached by the glass of wine they had both had when they first arrived.
‘Any more bad vibes, Jill?’
‘Well, it’s hard to say. Even in the office I get a bit uneasy at times.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Oh it’s nothing.’
‘No, tell me, Jill.’
‘Well it’s nothing specific but I sometimes feel Jack T’Baht is staring at me, I’ve even caught him a couple of times. And if I speak to him he just mumbles something and looks away.’
‘Oh I wouldn’t bother about him, Jill. I catch him looking at me sometimes as well and I get the feeling he wants to strangle me.’ Both women laughed. ‘Maybe he just doesn’t like women.’
‘Two lasagne, ladies.’
The barman shouted over to their table.
‘I’ll get them, Susan,’ Jill said. French went to the bar, collected the two plates, turned and shouted.
‘Jesus Christ.’
Dornan jumped up, ‘What is it?’
‘Jack T’Baht’
‘What about him?’
‘I can’t believe I didn’t see it.’
‘See what? What are you talking about?’
‘Jack T’Baht, JTB, John the Baptist.’
Dornan’s shock only paralys
ed her for a moment. ‘Let’s go.’
Rab Brown was torn. Stay with Healy or get to Jakonowski’s flat. He had tried contacting T’Baht and French but neither had answered. His phone rang. Thank God, T’Baht.
‘Where the fuck are you, Jack?’
‘The flat.’
‘Everything OK?’ The line went dead.
Brown turned and nearly bumped into an unsteady Healy.
‘Not sure how’re you’re fucking here Brown but let’s go.’
‘Matt you’re in no fit state.’
‘Either you drive Brown, or I’m taking your car.’
‘Wait a minute. What is this?’ shouted the taxi driver.
‘Fuck off’ shouted Healy. ‘Well, Rab, what’s it to be?’
‘Come on then’ said Brown.
Dornan, French, Healy and Brown all arrived at Ivana’s flat at the same moment along with two squad cars that Dornan had ordered up on the way over. Dornan and French entered the flat together. Their eyes quickly moved from the blood soaked body of Ivana Jakonowski to a seemingly dazed Jack T’Baht, his shirt soaked in blood, an Azrael business card in one hand and a hunting knife in the other.
Chapter 30
My heart was racing as I opened the door to my flat and took the ring from my coat pocket. I had thought through whether to let Susan pick the ring; or surprise her by just presenting her with one. I had spent two hours that afternoon browsing through a variety of jewellers, listening intently to all the various pieces of information that I apparently had to take into account when buying a ring. On a couple of occasions I had regretted not having Susan with me; but I had phoned her earlier to suggest dinner, but she had told me she was pretty much tied up with a surveillance operation and would be in the station till about midnight.
So, on impulse, I had decided on the “Surprise Approach to Engagement” move: I stripped off and headed for the shower: tonight Susan and I will be the talk of the Pitt Street Steamie.
***
‘Christ Susan, tell me it’s not true. T’Baht could be Azrael?’ McFarlane spoke in despair rather than anger or surprise.
‘I’m afraid it looks like it, sir. To be honest, I’ve been running a slightly covert investigation as there has been a suspicion that Azrael may have been a cop. For a while even Matt Healy was in the picture.’
‘Jesus, what a mess! What happened with Turner? Where the fuck is he?’
‘We don’t know. Matt was following him in a taxi but was involved in an accident and lost him.’
‘There’s no chance......?’
‘No. T’Baht would have seen him for a start and, well, he never even mentioned him as a defence. It’s odd. T’Baht seems to almost be in some sort of trance. He’s acting very strangely. Completely detached from what has happened.’
‘He’s a fucking nut job Susan; killed four, five, a hundred women, who knows. Of course he’s detached.’
‘Where is he now? We can’t question him, obviously. It will need to be officers from elsewhere. You go and speak to Healy and the rest. I’ll need to phone the Chief Constable. That will be good!’
As Dornan entered the squad room a subdued John Frame approached her. ‘You’re wanted at the front desk ma’am.’
‘God, John, what for? Can’t you deal with it?’
‘I think you should go, Susan.’
Frame’s tone and expression told Dornan she’d better take his advice. She arrived at the front desk where two traffic cops were waiting. She introduced herself.
‘Sorry, Ma’am, but we’ve received a complaint about one of your officers. A taxi driver phoned in to say he had been in an accident with a police car. The driver of the car had been aggressive towards him and left the scene.’
‘I know about this. It was a surveillance operation. Tell the driver we’ll take full responsibility and apologise on behalf of the driver.’
‘Sorry, Ma’am, but the taxi driver says the police driver smelt strongly of drink. We have to breathalyse him.’
‘You can’t be serious?’
‘Sorry, Ma’am, but we have no choice. We’ll do it in your presence if you wish. Is he here?’
Dornan was tempted to say no; but instinctively knew that that was the wrong course of action: this squad is ruined now anyway.
‘Wait in there and I’ll bring Healy along.’
Dornan rushed back to the squad room and shouted Rab Brown into her room. ‘Just answer yes or no, Rab. Any chance Healy was drinking while on duty tonight?’
Brown appeared to study his shoes.
‘Rab?’ Dornan shouted.
‘Yes.’
Dornan walked quickly back into the main room. ‘Matt, can you come with me please.’
Healy knew he was in for a bollocking for losing Turner but didn’t think it would be in McFarlane’s room. He was surprised as they headed for the front doors. ‘Taking me to a hotel, Susan?’
Dornan ignored him and ushered him into the side room. Healy saw the two traffic officers, he turned to Dornan. ‘You fucking bitch.’ Twenty minutes later Matt Healy was suspended from duty.
***
My heart was racing faster than ever before. What if she says, “No”? I walked with what I felt was a confident swagger into the foyer of the station. Matt Healy was walking towards me carrying a plastic holdall. No time like the present. ‘Hello Matt, is Susan about?’
‘Well, well, if it isn’t lover boy. Yes, your bitch of a girlfriend is here, Ford. Just suspended me as a matter of fact. No odds, I’m packing all this in anyway. How you two getting on these days anyway? Enjoying the pillow talk are you? I did when I was banging her. She likes a good moan don’t you find Ford?’
Healy walked on and was gone before I could even get my legs to function. What had just happened? What had he said? Is this actually real?
I looked over at the desk sergeant; he looked away, the embarrassment etched on his face. I turned and walked out onto the dark street, my world collapsing all around me.
Dornan sat in her office looking out into the squad room. Her first “command” and now one was dead, one suspended and one the killer they had supposedly been chasing. The phone rang on her desk.
‘Dornan.’
‘Sorry to phone you so late but I thought you’d like to know’ said Alistair Dorado.
‘What?’
‘The fingerprint sample you sent; it matches the one on the British girl. Matt Healy must have had some sort of contact with her when he was here but, as I said at the time, it is not conclusive proof. I’ll need to speak to him, of course, but I wanted to let you know.’
‘Thank you, Alistair. Healy is on holiday at the moment. I’ll get him to call you when he gets back if that is OK?’
‘Yes, yes, as I said, no hurry.’
Dornan rubbed her eyes, a mix of confusion and despair over-powering her.
***
I felt I had walked for miles but when I focused on my surroundings and where I actually was, I realised I was not that far from where I started. I must have been going round in circles. I realised that sleep would be impossible and I needed to face up to this, that my life, my happiness depended on it. I pulled out my mobile, my hand brushing the back of the ring box.
‘Hi darling, I was wondering if you wanted to meet up for a very late dinner?’
‘That would be just wonderful, Ray. I can’t wait to get out of here.’
I’m not far from the station and it’s getting a bit late so do you just want to meet in the Taj Mahal round in Sauchiehall Street?’
‘Fine. Ten minutes.’
We both picked at our food; both of us seemed distracted. I decided to face the demons.
‘I spoke to Matt Healy earlier.’
‘What? Where?’
‘At the station’s front desk.’
‘What were you doing there?’
‘I came to see you.’
We looked at each other, the silence screeching in both our heads.
‘What? Did
Healy say something?’ asked Susan.
‘You could say that. He said you and him were lovers. I guess that’s something.’
I continued to look straight into Susan’s eyes. What could I see? Fear? Disgust? Doubt?
‘I’ve something to tell you, Ray. Don’t interrupt me. This is killing me but, under the circumstances, you need to know.’
My heart felt as if it had been ripped from my body and thrown into the fires of hell. I reached for a glass of water to stop my throat closing up forever.
‘Matt Healy has a drink problem. I suspended him tonight for messing up a surveillance operation by crashing his car while drunk. On top of that he is now a suspect for a killing in Spain, remember when he was over there looking into Joe Turner’s past. Yes, he has made a few passes at me but I have never had any sort of relationship with him. When he found out about us he changed. You commented on it yourself. The man has lost it, Ray. Please don’t let him spoil it for us. We have a life time of happiness ahead of us.’
The relief I felt as Susan quietly spoke, and when she leant over and took my hand, would be impossible to describe. I felt as though I had been plucked from a raging sea of anguish and despondency and placed gently down on a sun kissed idyll.
‘Cyprus?’ I said.
‘Anywhere and as soon as possible,’ Susan replied.
‘OK, next week, Glasgow Registry Office, who needs the sun anyway?’
Susan came round the table and sat on my knee. ‘Deal.’ We kissed as the waiters laughed either with or at us, we didn’t care which.
‘I’ll phone them tomorrow for a date’ I said ‘no doubt they’ll need papers and things, I’ll find out.’
The Initial Blow Page 27