Someday Never Comes (#2 - D.I. Paolo Storey Crime Series)

by Frances di Plino

  Pete waited outside the gates, peering through the early evening gloom into the distant woods, hoping to catch a glimpse of the child. Thank fuck the house was miles from anywhere. At least he didn’t have close neighbours to worry about. But Joey needed to get his arse over here in a hurry. Who knew how far the kid would be able to run. He checked his watch again. Fifteen minutes he’d been standing out here like an arsehole. Where the fuck was Joey?

  Five minutes later a black BMW screeched to a halt in front of the gates. Joey lowered the window. “Get in,” he yelled. “I’ll drive as far into the woods as I can. Then we’ll have to walk.”

  Pete climbed into the passenger’s seat and shut the door. Ignoring Joey’s two heavies in the back, he smacked the dashboard in frustration. “She could be anywhere by now. What took you so long?”

  “I had people with me. It took me a while to shake them off.”

  Pete turned to watch Joey’s profile. “Not part of your organization then?”

  “No. It’s no sweat, but I had to be careful, that’s all. I couldn’t just take off. What did you do with the dark-haired one?”

  Pete shrugged. “I left her in the studio. What else was I going to do with her? Bring her body along for the ride?”

  The car screeched to a halt. “Are you mad?” Joey yelled. “We’ll have to go back. What if someone goes into your studio?”

  “No one will go in for another three days. It only gets cleaned when I tell Mrs Baxter I need someone to do it and the cleaner knows better than to go in if I’m not there.”

  “As far as you know,” Joey said.

  “You must think I’m stupid. I change the numbers on the security code on the door every week. I have to tell Mrs Baxter the code each time she has to let someone in.”

  “At least you do something right. It’s good to know you’re not always a fuck up. Now stop yakking and start looking.”

  Pete peered through the window as the car slowly made its way along the dirt track. When they reached a picnic site Joey pulled into the parking area next to it.

  “I’ll park up here. We’ll split up and search. You come with me, Pete, and you two can work together,” he ordered, nodding at the other men.

  Pete didn’t recognise either of them and Joey made no attempt at introductions.

  “You two search that side. If you find her, shut her up and bring her back to the car. Put her in the boot. We’ll meet back here in an hour. Okay?”

  The two men nodded and set off, soon disappearing from Pete’s sight. “Not very chatty, are they? Friends of yours?”

  Joey laughed. “Not exactly. You don’t need to know who they are. We need to find the kid you lost. Let’s get on with it.”

  Half an hour later and Pete was fed up to the back teeth. His head was throbbing fit to bust where the bitch had clouted him. The bottoms of his jeans and his trainers were covered in mud. God only knew what sort of shit he’d walked through. He had scratches on his face from the brambles he’d walked into and they still hadn’t so much as caught a sniff of the girl.

  It was only fear of someone else finding her that drove him on. With his comeback concert planned for New Year’s Eve, the last thing he needed was reporters banging on about his private life.

  Joey had virtually ignored him since they’d set out. The stupid fucker was acting like he’d lost the brat on purpose. So he was really surprised when Joey grabbed his arm and pulled him to a stop.

  “Ssh,” Joey hissed and pointed ahead.

  Pete heard it then. Voices.

  They crept towards the sound and stopped just before a clearing in the woods. Peering through bushes they could see a large travellers’ camp. There were a variety of brightly painted traditional wagons, interspersed with prosaic white vans and campervans.

  The raised voices they’d heard came from a group of women huddled together outside one of the traditional wagons. It was clear an argument was in progress. It wasn’t possible to make out the words, but from the way they were yelling Pete thought it looked as though half of them wanted one thing and the other half wanted nothing to do with it.

  He glanced over at Joey and raised his eyebrows in a question. Joey shook his head and waved his hand in a signal to wait.

  Suddenly the group appeared to have settled their differences and the small crowd dispersed, leaving the object of the discussion huddled in a blanket on the steps of the wagon with two women watching over her. Pete gasped out loud at the sight of the small blonde figure. Joey punched his arm.

  “Sorry,” Pete whispered. “It was a shock seeing the brat there. What do we do now?”

  “We wait,” Joey whispered back. “As soon as we get the chance, we snatch her back again.”

  “Look!” Pete hissed. “There’s something going on.”

  A group of men came towards the wagon and another debate started up, with the two women seemingly pitted against the rest of the camp. Pete noticed an older man standing quietly, leaning on a stick as he watched the argument flying back and forth. Suddenly the man struck the ground with his stick and everyone fell silent. He said something in a language Pete couldn’t understand, but it soon became obvious what he’d ordered his people to do because they all scurried off to the various wagons and vans. The child was pushed into the wagon behind her and within minutes the entire camp was on the move.

  “Shit! Now what do we do? They’re taking her with them. Do you think they can understand her? What if she tells them about me?”

  “Pete, just shut up a minute. Let me think.” Joey grabbed Pete’s arm. “Come on, we need to get back to the car. We’ll follow them. Wherever they pitch camp next, I’m sure we’ll be able to grab the girl.”

  “What about your two men?”

  Joey snapped open his phone. “I’ll get them to meet us back at the car.”

  Pete sighed. He needed to piss and he needed a fix. They seemed to have been in the car for hours, but when he looked at his watch only twenty minutes had passed since they’d left the woods and began to follow the travellers’ procession.

  “Where the fuck do you suppose they’re going, Joey? We’re heading towards town. I’d expected them to set off towards the motorway. Don’t you think it’s odd?”

  “The only thing I find odd is that you can’t shut up. Your mouth never stops.”

  Pete swallowed the insult, but promised himself if he ever got the chance, he’d repay Joey for treating him like shit. Okay, so the brat escaped, but how the fuck was he supposed to know she’d smack him over the head with his own ornament? He hadn’t even enjoyed her as much as he’d hoped. She’d been too passive, not put up much of a fight, and then what? Out of the blue she’d turned into a fucking Amazon warrior. How unfair was that?

  As the procession reached the outskirts of Bradchester, the vehicles as one pulled over the side of the road. Joey drove past for a few hundred yards and eased the car into a parking bay.

  “Do you think they’ve seen us?” Pete asked, peering over his shoulder. “What if they have? They might be getting ready to–”

  “Pete! Shut the fuck up!” Joey yelled. “Look, no one’s coming this way. I don’t know what’s going on, but they aren’t interested in us.”

  Pete turned in his seat to get a better view, looking past the two backseat passengers. The door to the wagon holding the girl opened and she came down the steps, half pushed by the two women who’d seemed to be guarding her at the camp. The women and the girl, now dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, climbed into a white van, which then drove off.

  “They’re taking her into Bradchester. Fuck it, Joey, they’re taking her into town. Where do you think they’re going with her? I bet it’s the police. If she tells them about me, that’s my comeback screwed.”

  “We’d better follow and find out where they go then, hadn’t we,” Joey said as he turned the key in the ignition. “But you’d better hope they aren’t going to the police with her. If they do, I’ll have to organise someone to deal with h
er and that’ll be the third worker you’ll have lost for me. If that happens you won’t need to worry about your comeback concert, Mr Rock Star, because you’ll be dead.”

  “Just fuck off, Joey. Don’t think you can threaten me…”

  “I don’t think it and I’m not threatening. I’m stating a fact. You’d better hope we get to the girl before the police do, because if she leads them to you, I’ll make sure you won’t be able to lead them to me.”

  Pete shut his eyes. How had it come to this? All he’d wanted was a bit of fun. Now it seemed everything he’d worked so hard for was in danger. The little bitch had messed up his life for him. Why’d she have to ruin everything just when it was all going so well? Life was so fucking unfair.

  CHAPTER NINE

  8th October (morning)

  Paolo watched as Barbara Royston concluded the autopsy. It made him sick to realise she was treating the child’s body with more respect in death than it had received in life. He vowed yet again to find whoever was trafficking these kids and destroy them. Sometimes he wished he lived in a world where certain criminals were punished in a way that really fitted their crimes. Child traffickers, for example, could have their–

  “Are you with us, or off in some world of your own?”

  He jumped, brought out of his daydream, back to the real world where evil bastards rarely got what they deserved.

  “Sorry, Barbara, I was just thinking about justice. What did you say?”

  “I said I’ll have the report for you tomorrow, but I haven’t found anything we hadn’t expected. She’s about thirteen or fourteen, been subjected to continual sexual abuse over an extended period of time, both vaginally and anally, and she died from an overdose. We won’t know the full details of that until the tox reports are back.” She frowned. “You’d think in my line of work I’d get used to sights like this, but when you know the life a child has been subjected to–”

  She didn’t finish, but she didn’t need to. Paolo was thinking the same thing. When you know what the child has been through before this point, it’s so much harder to bear.

  “Do you have any leads?”

  Paolo signalled to Dave to answer.

  “A witness came in early this morning and gave our artist some excellent information. As we’ve finished here, I’m off to the area this child was found to show the identikit images of two men we’d like to interview. Apparently they drop off and pick up the kids, so someone must know who they are.” He nodded to Barbara. “See you back at the station, Paolo.”

  Paolo watched Barbara’s face as Dave left. “You look surprised.”

  “I am,” she said. “That’s the first time I’ve seen him in months. What happened? Did aliens take over his body?”

  Paolo laughed. “No. It’s love that’s done the trick.”

  “Good grief. Who’d have thought an out and out misogynist could turn into a decent person.”

  “It was all an act, Barbara. Putting on a brave front to hide the soft centre.”

  “Hmm, like someone else I know. Have you got time for a coffee?”

  Paolo checked his watch. Ten-fifteen and he hadn’t yet started on the paperwork mountain. “Sure. I’d love one.”

  He waited while she cleaned up and then walked by her side the few yards along the corridor to her office. An image of the child’s lifeless body came to him and he shivered. They are just kids, he thought; they should be playing and having fun, not servicing bloody perverts.

  “How’s Katy?” Barbara’s voice cut across the unwelcome pictures in his head.

  “The same. Her doctor thinks she’s making progress, but it’s so slow that we, Lydia and I, can’t see it.”

  Mention of his ex-wife’s name brought to mind the previous morning’s threat to stop him seeing Katy. Surely she wouldn’t carry through with it. God, he hoped not. Putting that fear out of his mind along with all the other unpleasant things his brain felt stuffed with, he settled himself into one of Barbara’s comfortable chairs. A strange noise from behind made him look round.

  “Very snazzy,” he said as Barbara slipped a capsule into what was clearly a fancy new machine. “I haven’t seen that before.”

  Barbara grinned. “You know me and my love of a perfect cup of coffee. This was a present from a friend who was fed up with my constant complaints about the coffee we get from the vending machines here.”

  Paolo looked at the expression on Barbara’s face. Yes, she loved good coffee, but that glint of excitement was a bit over the top.

  “Friend?” he asked.

  “Friend,” she said firmly, placing a cup on the low table in front of him.

  But the blush that crept over her face, almost blending with the livid birthmark covering her neck, made him think friend might be too mild a word. He felt as though someone had punched him in the stomach, which was stupid. He had no right to feel anything where Barbara was concerned. He was the one who’d turned down any chance of a relationship, so why shouldn’t she have someone in her life?

  Barbara had no sooner fixed her own coffee and sat in the opposite chair than her phone rang.

  “No rest for the wicked,” she said, picking up the receiver. “Royston speaking. Oh, hi, how are you? No, I’m fine, just having a coffee from my wonderful new machine. Yes, tonight would be lovely. Yes, usual place. I’ll try not to be late this time.”

  As she replaced the receiver Paolo noted her blush had gone several shades darker.

  “The coffee machine friend?” he asked.

  She nodded. “One and the same.”

  His phone began playing a tune, another of Katy’s choices, signalling CC was calling. Grateful for the interruption before he could say something he would definitely regret, he flipped the cover to answer.

  “What’s up, CC?”

  “I’ve picked up a report that I think might interest us, sir. A young girl, maybe ten or thereabouts, who doesn’t speak English has turned up at Bradchester Central. She’s a rape victim and the doctors over there reported it to the station.”

  “Do we know what nationality the girl is?”

  “The report doesn’t say, sir, but I wondered if we should arrange for Gazmend and his wife to meet you at the hospital, just in case the child is Albanian.”

  “That’s not a bad idea. Although, if she isn’t, then that means we have other sick bastards bringing in girls from abroad. Jesus, that doesn’t bear thinking about. Dave’s gone to show the suspects’ images over in Zephyr Road, where the overdose girl was found, so you’d better come with me to the hospital.” He checked his watch. “I’ll come over and pick you up. Ask Gazmend to meet us there in an hour.”

  Glad of the excuse to leave, he swallowed the hot liquid, trying not to wince as it scalded his throat.

  “Sorry, Barbara, must run. Thanks for the coffee,” he said, halfway to the door.

  He was already in the corridor when he heard her answer. What the hell was wrong with him? Barbara had made it clear for months that she liked him and wanted to get closer and he’d pushed her away. Now she had a new man in her life he was behaving like an idiot. He should be happy for her. He was happy for her.

  So why did he feel as if he’d lost something precious?

  Shaking his head, he raced down the corridor and out to the car park. His tangled love life, or lack of one, could wait. The child in Bradchester Central couldn’t.

  Paolo filled in CC on the autopsy results during the short drive from the station to the hospital.

  “Poor kids,” CC said. “The ones in social won’t tell me anything. They huddle together as if expecting to be dragged away again at any minute.”

  “Not surprising,” Paolo said, “when you consider how they must have ended up in this country. Living a normal life one minute and trafficked into the sex trade the next.”

  Paolo drove into the restricted parking area and pulled into the space marked for the head of hospital administration.

  “We’re not supposed to park here,
sir.”

  “I know, but please note I haven’t taken a doctor’s bay.” He grinned. “It won’t hurt a pen pusher to park a bit further away and walk. It will do him good. Healthy exercise and all that.”

  Paolo climbed out and waited for CC. Pressing the key fob to lock the car, he looked around the car park. “You know, it looks to me like there are as many admin spaces as there are spaces for doctors. How can that be right?”

  “You want me to answer that? Really?”

  He laughed. “No. I was just commenting. I’ve got this thing about admin people and paperwork at the moment.”

  CC grinned. “I know, sir. I’ve seen it all over your desk.”

  They walked into the hospital and headed for reception, manned by a formidable looking grey-haired woman who reminded Paolo a bit too much of his primary school headmistress. Resisting the urge to duck in case she swiped the top of his head, as Miss Fletcher had been apt to do, he flashed his badge.

  “We’re here to see Doctor Peters about the child brought in during the early hours of this morning,” Paolo explained. “Could you call him for us, please?”

  The woman nodded and picked up the phone. After a brief conversation, she replaced the receiver with the same precision Miss Fletcher had used for everything she did. Paolo once again had to fight off the feeling of being six years old and in trouble for some minor misdemeanour.

  “Doctor Peters will meet you on Rutland ward, where the child has been admitted. Take the lift to the third floor and turn right. It’s the second door on the left. You can’t miss it.”

  “Do you have any record of who brought her in?”

  The woman consulted her computer. “No, I’m afraid not. Apparently she was discovered outside, next to the laundry delivery depot. When they opened up this morning, one of the porters found her propped against the wall.”

  Paolo turned to CC. “I wonder if whoever put her there was hoping she’d get medical attention. There are CCTV cameras all around this hospital. I would have thought the person dropping her off must have known that. But we might get lucky, maybe they weren’t local. Before we leave we’ll take a detour to hospital security.”