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

by Frances di Plino

  But even if they found definite evidence he’d known about Sam’s activities, that didn’t bring Paolo any closer to finding out who was shipping in the kids. Sam Bristol’s denial on that score had seemed genuine enough, but who knew how good a liar the man might be. He was prepared to lie to keep his wife’s brother in the clear, so what else was he lying about?

  Nearly three weeks had passed since Bekim and Edar had snatched Michelle and there hadn’t been sight nor sound of any of them since. She was probably dead, but until Paolo found her body, he wouldn’t let up on the search. As for the two thugs who’d taken her, Paolo vowed to track them down if it took him a decade to do it.

  He glanced through the window separating his office from the main room and saw Dave slumped over his desk. That was something else Paolo needed to sort out. Dave had come into the station this morning with a face that suited a Monday, which was unusual for him after a weekend with his beloved Rebecca.

  Paolo sighed. After their shaky start, he’d become close to his young detective sergeant and didn’t like to see him falling apart like this.

  He walked to the door and called out for Dave to come through. By the time Dave arrived, Paolo was seated back behind his desk.

  “You wanted me, sir?”

  “Yes, come in and close the door.”

  Paolo waited until Dave sat down, studying the young officer’s face. His eyes looked raw. He’d either been crying or on drugs. Paolo’s money was on the tears, but how to raise it?

  “Everything okay, Dave?”

  “Yes, fine. What did you want me for? Redzepi’s book uncovered any gems for us?”

  Paolo shook his head. “Not yet. The financial forensic guys are busy taking them apart number by number, but they’ve not come up with anything we can use so far. No, I called you in because I’m concerned about you.”

  Dave smiled, but Paolo could see it was an effort. “No need to worry about me, sir. As I said, I’m fine. In fact, I’m planning a night out tonight now that I’m free and single again.”

  “You and Rebecca split up?”

  Dave nodded and stood. “It’s been on the cards for ages now. We just weren’t meant for each other. It’s all for the best. I don’t know when I’ve been happier. If there’s nothing else, sir, I’ve got quite a lot on my desk that needs sorting out.”

  Paolo shook his head. “Nothing more at the moment.”

  Dave turned to go, but Paolo called him before he reached the door.

  “If you want to talk, Dave, I’m maybe not the best person to help with relationships, but…”

  “You’re all right, sir. There’s nothing to talk about.”

  He went out, closing the door behind him. Dave was clearly hurting, but maybe it was no more than a lover’s tiff and he would get back with Rebecca. Not meant to be together? Paolo smiled. If ever people were made for each other, it was those two.

  His thoughts were interrupted by the phone on his desk. Glad of the distraction, he picked up the receiver.

  “Storey.”

  “Good morning, Detective Inspector, this is Ejona Bejko. I wondered if you had a couple of minutes to chat to me about the girls in the social services hostal.”

  “Yes, by all means. Would you like me to meet you somewhere?”

  “No, that won’t be necessary. I simply wanted to bring you up to date. I don’t know if you are aware, but I’ve been translating for Jessica Carter, the psychologist. She has been amazing with the girls and we think we’ve made a minor breakthrough.”

  Paolo wasn’t surprised Jessica had got through to the girls in care. He knew from experience how good she was. Social services did the right thing, letting her in on this case. He smiled. He was getting to know her quite well. They had dinner together, well, sat at the same table in the restaurant, three or four times a week. It was amazing they never struggled to find something to talk about, considering they didn’t talk about Katy, or his work.

  “Are you still there, Detective Inspector?”

  Paolo pushed thoughts of Jessica to one side. “Yes, sorry. You were telling me you’d made a breakthrough.”

  “A few of the older girls are now prepared to look at photographs to see if they can identify any of the men who held them captive, or who abused them when they were first brought to the UK.”

  “That isn’t a minor breakthrough in my eyes,” Paolo said. “That is the best news I’ve heard in a long time. I’ve got a few suspects in mind, so will gather together some photos for you. I’ll call you as soon as I’ve got them.”

  “That would be very good. Thank you. I’ll wait for your call before arranging for Ms Carter to come with me to show the images.”

  “Would it be possible for me to see their reactions when you show them?”

  Ejona hesitated. “No, I don’t think that would be a good idea. They might feel intimidated by your presence. I would prefer it if only Ms Carter and I were present.”

  “Of course,” Paolo said, not happy he couldn’t witness their reactions first-hand, but short of bringing them to the station and putting them in an interview room with a two way mirror, which would be even more intimidating, there was no way to watch them without being in the room.

  He said goodbye to the interpreter and replaced the receiver. At last, some good news. He moved the mouse, bringing the screen to life. One image would be easy to source. Pete Carson’s face had been all over the local news recently, promoting his New Year’s Eve concert. If Paolo could prove he’d been abusing any of the girls they had in care, then Pete could kiss his concert goodbye. He printed off several head shots of the singer.

  Redzepi’s image was also easy to get, as the man was still in custody. Paolo needed to move quickly, before they were forced to let him go due to lack of evidence. If the girls identified him, that would change everything.

  The only image he needed now was Jeton’s. He might be involved, he might not, but the way he’d disappeared, taking his ex-wife with him, made him look very suspect. Definitely another one for the photo gallery.

  He got up and went into the main office and stopped at CC’s desk.

  “Can you get in touch with Gazmend and see if he’s got a photo of his cousin we could use?”

  “Yes, of course, sir. Who are we going to show it to?”

  He told her about the interpreter’s call.

  “Should I mention you’ve brought in another interpreter, sir? Remember I told Gazmend we’d dropped that line of enquiry. He might feel slighted if he knows he and Diellza have been replaced.”

  Paolo nodded. “Good point, CC. No, don’t tell him. Just say we want to use the picture as we’re treating Jeton’s disappearance as a missing person’s case.”

  “Right you are, sir. I’ll call him now.”

  Paolo was deep in thought, wondering if what he felt for Jessica might one day be reciprocated, when a light tap on his office door disturbed him. He looked up as CC, closely followed by Gazmend, came into the room.

  “Gazmend wanted to see you, sir. He’s concerned about his cousin.”

  Paolo indicated the chairs opposite his desk. “Yes, of course, please take a seat.”

  Gazmend sighed and passed a photograph across the desk. “This is the only image I have of Jeton, but I don’t think it will be very useful as we were only about twelve when it was taken.” He shrugged. “We were never very close as children. He grew up in Leicester and I moved here with my family shortly after this photo was taken. We’ve only recently got to know each other again since Jeton moved here a couple of years ago.”

  Paolo picked up the photo. Gazmend was right; it wasn’t going to be any use to him. The boys were some distance from the camera and, besides, were far too young for the girls in social to recognise Jeton.

  “You’ve no idea where Jeton and his ex-wife might be?” Paolo asked.

  “No, if I knew, I would tell you.” He shrugged again. “Please don’t think I’m being rude when I say this, but I’m not stupid. You th
ink my cousin has something to do with the child trafficking, don’t you?”

  Paolo considered his options. He could lie, but it would be far better to have Gazmend on his side. He nodded.

  “It is beginning to look that way, yes. He disappeared shortly after we visited his place of work and his wife went missing a little later. You can’t think of anywhere he could have gone? Perhaps back to Albania?”

  Gazmend shook his head. “Not as far as I know. The two men you’ve been asking about, Bekim and Edar, I have recently discovered from one of my contacts that Jeton was seen frequently in their company. I had no idea, but as I said, Jeton and I weren’t exactly close.”

  “And yet he came to stay with you when he had marital issues?”

  Gazmend smiled. “Close or not, when family come knocking on the door asking for help, Albanians will never turn anyone away. I did my best for him, but now I’m wondering if he took me for a fool.”

  “How do you mean?” Paolo asked.

  “He was always interested in my translating work with social services. I thought he was just being polite, but looking back, maybe he was digging for information to find out if the girls were talking.” He shrugged again. “I don’t know if that is what he was doing, but it could have been.”

  “Tell me something,” Paolo said, “the morning we called you to the hospital to translate whose idea was it for Jeton to drive you?”

  Gazmend looked horrified. “It was Jeton’s. My car wouldn’t start and I was about to call for a taxi when he offered to drive me in his car on his way to work. But what are you saying? You think he killed that child? No! I’m sorry, but I cannot believe that.”

  Paolo shook his head. “I wasn’t implying he killed her, but maybe he wanted to find out which ward she was on and driving you was an ideal opportunity.”

  Gazmend stood up. “I don’t believe my cousin is a killer, and I don’t believe he came with me for any reason other than to be helpful. But if I’m wrong, I promise you I will do everything I can to find him and hand him over to the police.” He glanced down at the photograph. “I’ll leave that with you. Maybe your technical people can do some sort of age advancement with it. Jeton and I are almost the same age. Our fathers were brothers. His blood is my blood. He would no more disgrace it than I would. I’m sure you’ll find he had nothing to do with these terrible crimes.”

  Paolo waited until Gazmend and CC had closed the door before picking up the phone. If Gazmend couldn’t supply a photo, it was time to arrange a warrant to search Jeton’s house. Surely there would be a more recent image there they could use.

  Paolo stopped by Dave’s desk. “There’s no point hanging around here. We won’t get the warrant until tomorrow. A trip out to the warehouse where Jeton worked might yield us a bit more information. Grab your jacket and let’s go.”

  As they walked towards the entrance George came in, looking very pleased with himself.

  “Nice to see you looking so happy,” Paolo said and immediately wished he’d kept his mouth shut as the look of joy faded from George’s face.

  He nodded at Paolo, scowled at Dave and carried on into the main office.

  “Blimey,” Dave said, “I’m really not flavour of the month with him.”

  Paolo shrugged. “I thought I’d sorted out his issues, but it seems I was wrong. I’ll chat to him again tomorrow, but let’s get going now. The warehouse will be closed by the time we get there if we don’t get a move on.”

  They pulled up just as the daytime workers were leaving. Paolo and Dave walked towards the group milling around outside waiting for lifts home.

  “Have any of you heard from Jeton?” Paolo asked.

  “Nah, mate,” one of the women replied. “You’ve already asked most of us that question when he first went missing.”

  “You should chat to his mate from the café down the road,” another woman called out.

  Paolo headed over to her. “Who’s his mate?”

  “The cook,” she said. “He and Jeton have known each other for yonks. Went to school together, I think.”

  “Many thanks,” Paolo said. “Come on, Dave, it’s time for a cuppa.”

  As they walked down to the café Paolo repeated what the woman had said.

  “Sounds promising,” Dave said. “Let’s hope the mate hasn’t already left for the day.”

  The café was typical of many found on industrial estates. It catered for workers in need of a filling meal, not for those looking for fine dining, but the smells coming through from the kitchen were enough to make Paolo hungry. A large board spelled out the daily menu where nearly everything came with chips. Not good for the heart, Paolo thought, but comfort food just the same. Few of the tables were in use, but at five thirty in the evening that wasn’t surprising.

  Paolo walked forward and showed his identification to a girl busy wiping down the counter with a cloth that looked as if it carried more germs than the surface it was supposed to be cleaning.

  “Could we have a word with your chef?”

  She laughed. “Chef? That’s a bit posh for this place.” Turning her head, she yelled towards a beaded curtain, which Paolo presumed hid the kitchen. “Tony, you’d better come through. Looks like your past has caught up with you.”

  A tall, massively overweight man in a what could once have been described as whites, but were now covered in a multitude of stains in various shades, barged through the beads.

  “What are you on about, Sally? I’m cleaning up back there and don’t have time for your shit.”

  She smiled and pointed to Paolo who still had his badge on show.

  “Oh,” Tony said. “Have you come about Jeton?”

  “Have you got somewhere private we can talk?” Paolo suggested. He turned to Sally. “Perhaps you could bring us some coffee?”

  “Sure, why not? It’s not as if I’ve anything else to do in this dump.”

  Tony raised his eyes, but didn’t say anything. He led Paolo and Dave to a table set apart from the others.

  “This is our staff table. No one can overhear us if we keep our voices down,” he said. “Have you got news of my mate? I’ve been worried sick about him.”

  Paolo sat down and studied the chef. He was younger than he’d thought at first, but his size made him look older. He seemed genuinely concerned, but that was an easy emotion to fake.

  “I was hoping you’d have news for me,” Paolo said. He waited while Sally put cups of surprisingly good smelling coffee in front of each of them. When she’d gone back to the counter, he continued. “Jeton has been missing for some time now. Did you know his wife was also missing?”

  “Sonia? No, can’t say as I did. But what’s she got to do with anything? They split up. Jeton had moved in with his cousin.”

  Paolo nodded. “Yes, we knew that, but she also seems to have disappeared, so it looks likely they are together.”

  Tony scowled. “Look, what are you getting at? I thought you were here because something’s happened to Jeton, but now it sounds like you think he was up to no good and did a runner. That’s shit. No way. He’s a good bloke.”

  “Calm down. No one has said anything about Jeton being up to no good. We’re just trying to find out more about him to help us in our search.”

  Paolo waited and saw the mulish look leave Tony’s face.

  “Sorry. It just sounded like you were making out he was bad news. I’ve known Jeton since we sat next to each other in primary school. He’s my best mate, so I’m not going to let the likes of you stitch him up.”

  “No one is trying to stitch him up, but we really do need to find him. He might be able to help us with our investigation.”

  “Isn’t that cop talk for we think he’s guilty of a crime?” Tony asked. “When I hear that on those crime programmes I think to myself, I bet he’s wanted for whatever it is they’re looking into and then the next week most times we hear the bloke has been arrested. So don’t tell me you don’t think Jeton’s done something. I won’
t believe you.”

  Paolo took a sip of coffee and put the cup back on the table. “Okay, here’s the truth. We do think Jeton might be involved in something very serious. If he is, we need to find him. If he isn’t, we need to be able to rule him out so that we can concentrate on others. So, do you have any idea where we should start looking?”

  “You’ve been round his cousin’s, I suppose?”

  Paolo nodded.

  “Oh, pity. I’d been hoping Gazmend had got him to go over to Albania for the charity.”

  “What charity?” Paolo asked.

  “Didn’t Gazmend mention it? No, I suppose he wouldn’t. They’re very modest, that family.”

  Paolo smiled. “I’m sure they are, but I’m still waiting to hear what the charity is all about.”

  “He works with an orphanage in Albania. His charity brings young girls over here for short holidays. Two, maybe three times a year.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  19th November (all day)

  Paolo stopped by the court on his way to the station and collected the warrant, but his mind was running on what they’d discovered about Gazmend the night before. Was it possible that the person they’d been hunting for had been in front of them all the time? Paolo’s heart beat faster as the thoughts chased each other round his head. Gazmend had been at the heart of the investigation, right from the outset. Only he understood Albanian. He and Diellza could have been saying anything to the girls in care and no one would have been any the wiser.

  Before jumping to conclusions, though, he needed George to find out all he could about the charity Gazmend had set up in Leicester. Why there? Why not here in Bradchester?

  He arrived at the station ahead of everyone else and used the time to reduce his mounting pile of reports before his team trickled in one by one. Standing up and moving from behind his desk, Paolo felt his blood pumping. They were getting closer to cracking this. He was sure of it.