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

by Frances di Plino

  As he entered the station, the duty sergeant called him over.

  “The chief wants you to go up as soon as possible.” He gave Paolo a sympathetic smile. “I expect it’s to do with that bloody reporter last night.”

  Paolo could see the man was dying to ask who the chief’s nephew might be. Damn! They’d managed to keep that relationship under wraps, and now it was all over town.

  “Thanks,” he said. “I’ll go up now.”

  He climbed the stairs to the third floor and made his way to the Chief Constable’s office. Tapping on the door, he took a deep breath and went in when he heard Chief Constable Willow’s bark. “Enter!”

  One look at his boss’s face was enough to tell Paolo he was in for a rough ride.

  “Come in. Shut the door and tell me who the bloody hell you’ve been blabbing to. Who knows in this station that Dave is my nephew?”

  Paolo wasn’t prepared to give George up without speaking to him first, so he shrugged.

  “I can’t answer that yet, sir. But I will find out.”

  “You’d bloody better. That reporter implied not only that Dave was incompetent, but that he’s here because he’s my nephew. You know full well I haven’t put any pressure on you to favour him in any way. If he’s crap at his job, tell me and I’ll turf him out.”

  Paolo hadn’t been asked, but decided to sit anyway. He wasn’t an errant schoolboy, so there was no reason to act like one. He waited until the chief wore out his rage. It didn’t take long. Willows was generally a fair man.

  “I have an idea who the leak might be, but until I’ve looked into it, I don’t want to do any finger pointing, sir,” Paolo said. “Funnily enough, the leak might turn out not to be such a bad thing. I don’t mean about Dave,” he said as Willows showed every sign of getting worked up again. “If Pete Carson is a paedophile, this might prompt some of his earlier victims to come forward.”

  “Yes, and it might also bring forward a few who weren’t victims, but want to get their names in the paper.”

  Paolo shrugged. “We always get a few of those, regardless of the case we’re working on.”

  Willows scowled. “You’re right. Not sure what they get from it, but some people seem to like their fifteen minutes of fame, even if it’s for repulsive reasons.”

  Paolo went back downstairs feeling as if he’d got of lightly. Willows was angry, but not with him. As he walked through the main office he stopped by George’s desk.

  “I’d like to see you in my office, please, George.”

  “I’ve just…”

  “Now!” Paolo said, barely keeping his temper in check.

  George sighed as if he were the most put upon person in the universe. Paolo had to count to ten just to keep himself from yelling.

  “Close the door, George,” Paolo said as he walked behind his desk and sat down. “Take a seat. I need to ask you some serious questions and I’d like truthful answers.”

  “Of course. What do you want to know?”

  Paolo wondered how to phrase the question, but there was no gentle way to put it. He’d have to confront the issue full on.

  “Did you watch Pete Carson’s press conference last night?”

  A massive smile crept over George’s face. “I did and I’d like to shake the hand of whoever gave out that information. We know he’s guilty and can’t do a damn thing about it. Now everyone else knows what he is.”

  “Was it you?”

  The smile dropped from George’s face. “Was what me?”

  “The person who leaked to the press. Was it you?”

  “Why are you picking on me? It could be anyone out there,” he said, pointing to the outer office. “It could even be your blue-eyed boy.”

  Paolo shook his head. “Not according to the way the reporter spoke of him. That sounded like a quote from someone who’d found out Dave’s relationship to Willows and was angry about it.”

  “So because I know and don’t like Dave, you get to accuse me? That seems a bit unfair, if you ask me.”

  Paolo leaned forward. “I’ll find out who leaked. Whoever it was will be out of the force. I’ll make sure of that. If it wasn’t you, it has to be someone who knows about Dave and Willows. Have you told anyone?”

  George stood up. “No, I bloody well haven’t. If you’ve got a leak then you need to find it and plug it, but you’re not going to use me as an easy scapegoat. Is there anything else, sir?”

  Paolo winced. “Yes, have you found out anything more on Gazmend’s charity?”

  “Only confirmation of what we already knew. It’s on the level. The kids arrive via Europe where they get to see the sights, stay a few days and then go home again. None of them get left behind.”

  “Okay, thanks.”

  “Happy to be of assistance,” George said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

  Paolo decided there and then, whatever happened, whether George was the leak or not, he would arrange for him to be transferred.

  He glanced down at his desk as George left and discovered a post it note in CC’s handwriting asking him to call the interpreter. She had news on the girls’ reactions to the photographs. Praying it was something that might take them closer to establishing the identity of Joey, Paolo dialled the number on the note.

  “Hello, is that Ejona? Paolo Storey here.”

  “Thank you for calling me back. We’ve had a small breakthrough with the girls. None of them recognised Mr Redzepi, but they all reacted strongly to the photograph of Jeton. Unfortunately, they are all too terrified to speak out against him.”

  “Did any of them identify him by name?” Paolo asked.

  “No, only as Joey, but there was no doubt they knew him as a person to fear.”

  “Thank you. And the picture of Pete Carson? Did any of them react to that?”

  Paolo heard a sharp intake of breath. “Seven of them broke down in tears when they saw his photograph, but none of them would say why. I believe Jessica Carter may be able to help them with whatever trauma they are going through. She is very good with them, as you know.”

  Paolo smiled. He didn’t need outside validation to know how good Jessica was at her job. This could be the breakthrough he needed. If any of the girls could be persuaded it was safe to speak out against Pete, he could move on him. Knowing the type of person Pete was, there was a fair chance he’d spew up information in an effort to save his own skin.

  He thanked the interpreter again and was about to put the phone down when it occurred to him how alike Gazmend and Jeton were. There was still something nagging at the back of his mind about the charity Gazmend had set up. It seemed strange he’d never mentioned it.

  “Ejona, if I give you a number to call in Albania, would you ask the people who run an orphanage about their experience with a charity set up over here?”

  “Yes, of course. What do you want me to find out?”

  Paolo laughed. “That’s the problem. I’m not really sure. The charity gives free European trips to young girls. They leave the orphanage by coach, travel through various countries to here, where they enjoy a couple of days sightseeing, then go back to Albania stopping at different places to those they viewed on the way out.”

  “Sounds like a good charity. I’m more confused than before. What questions should I ask the orphanage?”

  “Could you find out if the girls are distressed in any way when they come back? Do they seem to have been traumatised by the trip? I don’t really know, to be honest. I’d just like to be sure that the charity is doing what it says and isn’t a cover to bring kids over here and use them until they end up in the same state as the girls you’re working with.”

  “I’ll get on to them right now and call you back. Will you be in your office for the next hour or so?”

  “I should be, but let me give you my mobile number, just in case I’m called out.”

  He thanked her and replaced the receiver. Maybe he could bluff his way with Pete Carson. Give the impression the girls had spoken
out against him, without actually saying they had. It was worth a shot. He was still deep in thought when Dave rapped on his door and came in, clearly distressed.

  “Paolo, they all know I’m the chief’s nephew and I feel like I’ve turned into a bloody leper. None of them, apart from CC, will even talk to me this morning.”

  Sighing, Paolo stood up. Pete Carson could wait for half an hour. First, he needed to sort out the children in the sandpit.

  By the time he’d given his team a good talking to and convinced them that Dave wasn’t there as a result of nepotism, his head was aching. He left them looking a bit sheepish and trying to make it up to Dave for jumping to conclusions. All except George who’d said all the right words, but without any sense that he’d meant them.

  Paolo sat down and scribbled a reminder of things he needed to deal with – George’s transfer topped the list. Willows had made it clear there would be an enquiry into the leak over Carson; if George was the culprit, as Paolo firmly believed, could he really transfer him right now? No, he couldn’t. It wouldn’t be fair to his new boss if George was guilty and it wouldn’t be fair to George to make it look as if he was being sent away in disgrace if he was innocent. It seemed like Paolo was stuck with him until he knew for sure, one way or the other.

  Second on his list was a visit to Pete Carson. He was about to get up and call for Dave to go with him when the phone rang.

  “Storey.”

  “Hello, it’s Ejona. I made the call for you and it seems you can relax. I spoke to several people at the orphanage and they all look on Gazmend Dushku as some sort of saint. Apparently, the girls come back full of stories of the wonderful time they had. Mr Dushku’s charity tries to offer this treat to as many of the orphanage’s children as possible. In fact, it seems that they are able to place the children who have been abroad with new families much easier than those who have never left the orphanage.”

  “And none of the children are accidentally left behind, or have an accident that means they have to stay?” Paolo asked, knowing even as he spoke that he was looking for evidence that didn’t exist.

  Ejona confirmed this. “They all arrive back. Not one child has been left behind on any of the trips the charity organised. As I say, they regard Mr Dushku as someone very special.”

  “Thank you, Ejona. Don’t forget to add the cost of the call to your bill.”

  She laughed. “I won’t. Let me know if there’s anything else I can do.”

  Paolo had no sooner replaced the receiver than the phone rang again. At this rate he’d never get out to question Pete Carson. He snatched up the phone.

  “Storey.”

  “Oh, thank goodness. I kept dialling and your number was engaged. I didn’t know what to do.”

  “I’m sorry, who is this speaking?” Paolo asked. He’d recognised the voice, but couldn’t place it.”

  “It’s Mrs Baxter. Mr Carson’s housekeeper. When you were here about the blood on the gates you gave me your card and said to call you if I had any problems.”

  Paolo could hear the hysteria rising in the woman’s voice. “I remember,” he said. “How can I help you?”

  “It’s Mr Carson,” she sobbed. “He’s dead!”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  20th November (afternoon)

  Paolo stood next to Dave, keeping to one side of Pete Carson’s studio while Barbara and her team worked on the singer’s body. Evidence of drug use littered the table, leaving them in little doubt of how he’d died. The question now though, was to decide whether the overdose has been deliberate or accidental. Not that Paolo cared one way or the other. At least there was one less pervert to prey on vulnerable children.

  “This place, it stinks,” Dave said.

  Paolo nodded. The stench was incredible. Pete had clearly been dead for several hours and his body had emptied its fluids where he lay.

  “You should be used to smells like this now, Dave.”

  “That’s not what I meant, sir. I meant stink in the other sense. Kiddie porn on the computer, handcuffs, blood on the floor. I dread to think what that bastard did in here. I wish he was still alive. I’d like to cut his fucking balls off and–”

  Paolo grabbed Dave’s arm and pulled him outside. “What’s going on, Dave? You can’t lose it like that in front of everyone.”

  Dave was shaking from head to toe. “There’s fuck all wrong with me, sir. It’s the bastards that fuck up children and ruin their lives.”

  “And you’re swearing. I’ve never heard you swear like this. You want to tell me why you’re taking this case so personally?”

  Paolo waited. At one point it looked as though Dave was going to tell him, but in the end he shook his head.

  “No reason. I just don’t like the idea of people like Pete Carson abusing kids. That’s all.”

  “You going to be okay to go back in there? I need you to keep it together.”

  Dave nodded. “I’m fine now. Honestly.”

  As they went back inside, Barbara was straightening up. She walked over to them.

  “Definitely an overdose. Maybe he couldn’t face the public after he’d been outed,” she said.

  Paolo looked around. “Something isn’t right here. No evidence of a pizza delivery.”

  Dave looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. “Sorry? You’ve lost me, sir.”

  “I was watching the news last night. The only vehicle that made it through the security guards was a pizza delivery van. Two things strike me as odd about that. Firstly, if you’re about to OD, would you send out for pizza? Secondly, we know the van came, but where’s the evidence? No pizza box, or anything else to show a delivery.”

  Barbara signalled to her team to take the body outside. “When I get the stomach contents analysed we’ll know for certain, but I think you’re right. I’ll let you know as soon as I can,” she said. “Or will you be coming to the autopsy?”

  Paolo nodded. “Let me know and I’ll be there.”

  He watched her follow her team out and then turned back to Dave.

  “Okay, so why would a pizza van come here if it wasn’t to deliver pizza? Maybe it wasn’t dropping anything off, but doing a pick up instead. I’m wondering if there might have been a child here with Pete and he panicked when the news broke and called for someone to take the child away.” He picked up the phone. “I’m going to get CC to watch the news from last night. We need all the information we can get on that pizza van.”

  When he’d finished the call, he slipped the phone back in his pocket.

  “Let’s go over to the main house and see what Mrs Baxter has to tell us about Pete’s last few days.”

  They settled into the kitchen chairs where they’d sat on the day Pete had tried to stop Mrs Baxter’s from telling them about the blood on the gates and drive. The only difference was that the housekeeper was sobbing and couldn’t stop.

  “I don’t believe what that horrible man said last night,” she said, when she was finally able to speak. “Mr Carson was always good to me and to the other staff. I’d have known if he’d had young girls in here. But he didn’t! He didn’t ever bring anyone back. He was a good man.”

  She dissolved into tears again and Paolo handed her a tissue from the box on the table. After another good blow, she was able to halt the flow.

  “Can I ask, what made you go over to the studio this morning? Is that part of your regular duties?”

  She shook her head. “No. We only clean the studio when Mr Carson says…said we should do it. He hated for his place of work to be disturbed. The door has a special lock and he changes the code, so we could only go in when he told us the new code. I was so worried about him. He came back from the press conference in such a state. Said he was going to the studio and didn’t want to be disturbed. And that was the last time I saw him alive.”

  Paolo passed her another tissue.

  “Thank you. It’s so sad. The world will think he was like that Gary Glitter, but he wasn’t.”

 
“I’m sorry, Mrs Baxter, I’m confused. If you didn’t know the code, how were you able to open the studio this morning?”

  “I went over and knocked and knocked and knocked. When he wouldn’t open the door for me I came back here and looked out the list. He didn’t realise, bless him, but he used the same codes over and over. I just tried them all until I got to the one that worked. And I found him like that.”

  “Were you here when the pizza delivery came?”

  Mrs Baxter lips moved into a smile briefly as she shook her head. “Did he order pizza? I’m not surprised. I’ve never known anyone eat as much pizza as Mr Carson. I swear that pizza van was here every week.” She sniffed. “I don’t blame you, personally, but I do blame the police. That reporter got his information from the police. He said so. It’s not true and you need to find out who’s been spreading such ugly lies.”

  As the tears began to flow once more Paolo stood up and nodded to Dave to join him. He patted Mrs Baxter on the shoulder.

  “We’re going now. I promise you I’ll get to the bottom of the leak, but I’m afraid you’re going to have to get used to the idea that Pete Carson was not as nice as you’d believed.”

  While Dave negotiated the country roads, Paolo called CC.

  “Were you able to get the film footage?”

  “Yes, sir, and I’ve put out an alert on the van. Good news is we were able to get a clear shot of the number plate. Bad news is the plate is a mock up. The number doesn’t exist.”

  Paolo sighed. “Why am I not surprised? Good work, CC.”

  “Are you coming back to the station?”

  “Yes, we’re on our way now. Why?”

  “Gazmend called and wants to see you. It seems someone has told him you’ve brought in an outside interpreter and he wants to know what he’s done wrong.”

  Paolo entered the main office to find Gazmend waiting for him. Sitting next to CC’s desk, he was laughing at something CC had said, but the laughter died when he looked up and saw Paolo approaching. The interpreter stood up.