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The Controller

Page 5

by Linda Coles


  Niles and Vic had seen Pete walk in and order himself a lager but hadn’t bothered to call him over. Vic for one wasn’t about to, preferring instead to have Niles’ attention all to herself. The Pernod and black had already started to have its effect on relaxing her, her tongue feeling a little numb from the aniseed spirit.

  “Pete’s just walked in and got himself a drink, cheeky sod, never asked if we wanted another round, tight arse.” Niles took another drag on his cigarette, the thin grey mist hovering around his head like a foggy halo.

  “Ah, leave him be, he’s harmless enough, and until we need another target, we don’t need him for much, and most of the time he’s playing games on his sodding computer. He’s a right geeky techie nerd. Where did you find him anyway?” Vic had often wondered how they’d all got to work together but until now had never asked, and put it down to the Pernod giving her balls.

  “Came across him when he came out of juvie the second time I think. A bit of a set up like this,” he said, waving his pint arm around the pub in a small semi circle. “I was having a pint someplace and he came in, and we got talking. He was looking for a job, and decided to drown his sorrows in a lemonade, that’s why I tease him. No one ever wants to give an ex con, even a young ‘un out of juvie, the time of day never mind pay ‘em to do a job.”

  “So you approached him and took him under your wing then? What were you doing for money back then?”

  “Ah you know, anything really. A bit of thieving to order, small stuff like flat-screen TV’s, but it got a bit too intermittent and I needed a more reliable income stream so I came up with this. Since you and me met, it’s been much easier to pull off, you being female and all, less suspect like. And we needed a lookout, that third person. Just means we can do more even though it’s another person to split it with.” She watched as he took another long drag on his cigarette, despite the disapproving looks from the barman, the smoke drifting straight up from the roll-up between his fingers. Vic put her glass to her lips and dropped her head back, draining the glass loudly like she was gurgling the remains of a milkshake through a straw.

  “Steady on Vic, it’s not lemonade you know, you’re supposed to sip it,” he said, smiling through his words. “You want another?”

  “Yes, why not. It’s warmed my insides nicely, might need a lie down when we get back,” and she smiled sweetly at him, trying to catch his eyes, though by the neutral look on his face as he stood, he hadn’t picked up on her flirt to join her. Either that or he wasn’t interested. The man at the bar on the other hand understood her body language and innuendo perfectly. As Niles reached the bar to order, the man took the opportunity and opened the conversation.

  “She’s certainly into you, my man, know what I mean? Got it bad I’d say.”

  “Eh? What do ’ya mean, and what’s it to you anyhow?” Niles always took the defensive line first, something he’d picked up inside the very first time he’d ended up there. He’d also learned to mind his own business, unlike this wise guy.

  “Just an observation, mate, that’s all. And not a bad looker either, though that’s not why I’m talking to you.”

  “Oh yeah? And why’s that then?” Still overly cocky, which amused the man, and it showed.

  “Look, knock the hard man shit off, will you, I might be able to put a bit of business your way and you me, like. Help each other out.” Niles dropped the attitude a little but stayed on his guard.

  “You a pig?”

  The man chucked. “Do I look like a sodding pig? No, thought not. But I have been eavesdropping for the past half-hour about your dog scam. You know, you should talk quieter, someone might overhear you and drop you in it.”

  “Is that a threat then, is it?” The attitude was back.

  “No, but an observation. Look, I have an idea. And it means you can double dip, so a win win for us both.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “You still do your ransom bit, get your dough, and instead of giving the dogs back, you on sell the dogs on to me.”

  Niles thought for a moment before he responded. If he understood this man correctly, they still kidnapped the dog, but when they’d paid up, they never got them back because he on sold them to this guy? Sounded alright to him. And easy.

  “How much each you talking?”

  “Well, let’s say £100 each. That’s an extra £100 profit for the same work, less work in fact. No need to risk dropping the dog back.”

  “£100 is peanuts actually.” Niles was shaking his head in agitation. Who was this guy wasting his time?

  “Yes but it’s a regular £100. I need a regular supply see, they go all over the UK, big business for what I need them for. You interested or not? Because if you’re not, I’ll look elsewhere.”

  Niles could never turn a deal down and another £100 per dog for doing not much else, and regular too, would soon add up nicely. He thought for a moment longer.

  “Okay, you’re on. What do you need and when do you need it?” Niles was beginning to get excited as the sums added up in his head. The big man gave him a brief smile, asked for his telephone number and said someone would be in touch tomorrow with the first order, then turned back to his pint, leaving Niles in his excited state still standing next to him but ignored. Niles took the hint, ordered another pint for him and a Pernod and black for Vic, and completely ignored Pete at the other end of the bar – two could play at that game. He felt pleased with himself, he now had a lucrative sideline to their operation and he needed to think through some of the logistics, so he gathered both their drinks and went to tell Vic about his conversation and their new plan.

  From where Pete was standing he’d heard every damn word and his blood was boiling in his veins. One thing about spending time on the wrong side of the law meant that he’d learned a few things inside juvie. If his suspicions were right, he knew exactly where this fresh supply of dogs was going. And that repulsed him.

  Chapter Twenty

  “Oh Gemma, look,” Pam said, pointing to her iPad screen as if the dog could read, understand and comment. “There are a couple of comments from other people that have had their pets stolen and held to ransom. If those are the ones that have come forward, I bet there are still others.” Pam scrolled down the page and read further: two missing dogs but both had been returned after a phone call, the dogs being of sentimental value and much-loved members of the family rather than pedigrees. Maybe dognapping pedigree pups and dogs wasn’t as lucrative, Pam wondered, that or they were much harder to steal – pedigree breeders tended to have better security than the average dog owner. Still, whatever the reason, it made Pam feel sick to her stomach that this was happening in their neighbourhood. She composed a private message to Ruth:

  “Ruth, let’s alert the police now we have more victims, there’s obviously a gang doing the rounds and they need to be stopped. When can you go? I’ll come with you and I’ll see if Lorna can come too, they have to listen now.”

  She signed off with her name and hit send and waited for a response. While it was quite late in the evening, Pam knew that Ruth was a bit of a night owl, and suspected she might still be up. She was right. Ruth had seen her message and replied almost instantly:

  “Pam, Agree. We’ll go at lunchtime tomorrow if you can make that, see if Lorna can. See you outside the station at 12.30? Ruth”

  Pam texted Lorna the plan. Since she wasn’t sure if the rest of the family had been told about the demand and dognapping, she thought a quick text at this hour would be safest, a phone call a little harder to explain. Lorna responded almost instantly with a “yes, see you there,” and the first part of getting the horrible experience sorted was under way.

  At 12.30pm the following day Pam, Lorna and Ruth met up and went inside the police station and spoke to the desk sergeant. Pam remembered the man from when she had tried to report Gemma stolen. She hoped that this time he would be a bit more helpful and take them more seriously. He smiled as she approached the desk.

&nbs
p; “Yes, I remember you from a few days ago, good to see you got your dog back. That her tied up outside the door?” he asked, pointing with his disposable pen.

  “Yes, it is, and that’s why we are here,” said Pam. It was decided before they all went in that Pam would do the talking first as she was a victim and had already spoken to the police before. “She was in fact stolen, and so have at least five other dogs that we now know of.” That got his attention.

  “Tell me what you know, Mrs...?”

  “It’s Pam Davies, Sunnymead Road. Just call me Pam.”

  “Well Pam, tell me more.” His pen was poised.

  “As you know, my Gemma was missing, and two days after she first went, I got a call, a ransom call in fact, and they wanted £500 dropped in a bin in the park then I’d get Gemma back. And before you ask why I didn’t come to you, he told me, that is, the man that called, if I went to the police, if there was any sign of them present, I’d never see her again. So I didn’t tell you.” The sergeant scowled a little, taking notes for his report.

  “Go on, please.”

  “Well, I did as requested, dropped the money, then out of nowhere came Gemma. I never saw anybody and there was no more contact with them. I was just so happy to get her back unscathed. But it seems I’m not the only victim.”

  Lorna stepped forward to add to the story, the sergeant now taking a keener interest at the word ransom. “Bubbles was taken too, and I also got a call, that same night, and they wanted £4000.”

  The desk sergeant’s eyebrows cocked in disbelief. £4000 was a hell of a lot more than £500, but he didn’t say as much. He carried on with his note-taking and Lorna carried on talking.

  “I too dropped money into a bin in the park and from nowhere Bubbles came out of the bushes. Just like Pam, I simply wanted my girl home safe and well. I haven’t even told my family yet and I too was threatened not to contact the police. And there’s more people that have had the same experience.”

  It was Ruth’s turn to contribute. “Afternoon, officer. I’m Ruth McGregor and I don’t have a dog, but I do run the local online site The Daisy Chain. You may or may not be aware of it?”

  “Can’t say as I am aware, sorry. What is it exactly and how does it fit here?”

  “It’s something I set up a while back, sort of a community page where locals post comments: suspicious activities, general neighbourly chatter, anything that could be useful to others, that sort of thing.”

  He nodded to go on.

  “Well, I asked the online group, there are a couple of thousand of us now, if anyone had lost their dog recently and then had it returned, without going into too much detail publicly. And here’s the thing, two more people have come forward to say they had fallen foul of these people, and there is a little Jack Russell missing as we speak, making it five so far. I suspect there will be more, not everyone will have seen the post to respond, or don’t want to get involved.”

  Ruth relaxed a little after telling him what she knew. All three of them waited in silence, wondering what he would say. Would the police now take this seriously?

  “Right then, looks like there’s something needs investigating properly now.”

  The women breathed a collective sigh of relief. “I’m going to just get all your contact details, fill in a bit more information, then pass it on to one of my colleagues to look into. Shall I put yourself as the main contact point? Since you are involved but not a victim, it might just be easiest.” He was looking directly at Ruth as he spoke and she nodded her approval.

  “Yes, that’s fine with me. In the meantime, I’ll watch for more people coming forward, let’s hope there aren’t too many,” and everyone agreed.

  The sergeant finalised the last of the details he needed and told Ruth an officer would be in touch later that day and they’d set the ball rolling. He watched as the three women left the front reception area, sucking on the end of his cheap pen in thought. He didn’t like the sound of this one little bit, these things usually escalated into something worse and they needed to catch this gang before it did so or before they moved on again. He picked up the report and headed out back to the main squad room.

  “You got a minute?” he asked the female detective passing by.

  “Sure, what you got?”

  “Four cases of dognapping for ransom, and another suspected, all local people. In my experience it can get ugly if not taken care of. You able to look into it?”

  Amanda took the report and quickly scanned through it. She’d seen this sort of thing before and also knew it rarely ended well. She ran her fingers through her short cropped hair. Bits stood out at odd angles.

  “Thanks Doug, I’m on to it. I’ll go round later today and see what else I can dig up. Sounds like this website could be helpful too. Who’s the main contact?” she asked, scanning the page again.

  “It’s Ruth McGregor, do you know her?”

  “Not yet I don’t.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Amanda walked up the front path of the Richmond road address and rapped on the brass doorknocker, hearing the heavy sound echo back though the quiet street. Doorbells were probably a little more noise friendly – this rapper informed the whole street that someone was knocking on the McGregor door. She could hear footsteps coming from inside, on what sounded like a wooden floor, and the Detective was glad she didn’t have to rap the brass knob again. As the door opened, Amanda was ready with her credentials in her hand.

  “Afternoon. Ruth McGregor? I’m DS Amanda Lacey.”

  “Oh, yes, please, come on inside.” Ruth stood to one side of the door to allow the detective entrance, and held her arm out to show the way inside and down the hallway. “Thanks for coming round. Can I get you a drink, tea, lemonade perhaps?”

  “Lemonade would be great, thanks. I’m a bit ‘tea’d’ out at this time of day and it’s actually quite warm outside.” They chatted easily as they walked through the house.

  Ruth pointed to the back of the house and the open back door. “Please, take a seat on the patio and I’ll bring it out for you. It’s such a lovely afternoon, a shame not to take advantage of it.” Amanda made herself comfortable on one of the wicker chairs under the large umbrella and looked out onto the garden. She called over her shoulder back to Ruth in the kitchen.

  “Great place you’ve got here and such a fabulous garden.”

  “Thanks. I’d like to say it’s all my own work but it isn’t. I just potter around, with the few herbs and tomatoes being my contribution. Not enough time I’m afraid,” she said, as she put two glasses of lemonade down on the table. “Though I love fresh herbs in my cooking and tomatoes are great all year round, so I bottle pasta sauce with the excess for winter. Do you garden?”

  “No, my place is very low maintenance, comes with the territory of being a detective. Never enough hours in the day.” Amanda took a long sip of her lemonade. She groaned with satisfaction. “This is outstanding! From your lemon tree?” she said enquiringly, noting the abundance of lemons hanging from a small tree sheltered at the edge of the patio.

  “Thanks, and yes they are, glad you like it.” Ruth couldn’t help feeling something had clicked into place as this woman chatted to her so easily, but flicked the thought from her mind like you would a piece of lint from your trousers. Amanda must have had a similar thought because suddenly she was all business. Clearing her throat, she started.

  “So tell me about The Daisy Chain, and how it fits in with Pam and Lorna’s experience.”

  “It was started a few months back, I’m in IT, I work for myself, and it seemed a useful thing to do, bring a community together for help and advice, and it’s sort of blossomed into quite a thriving place. I moderate it, with the help of another moderator, Benjamin, so we can keep it family friendly and on track. We don’t tolerate unsubstantiated gossip, bad language or racism. It’s there as a place to meet and contribute.” Amanda nodded and Ruth went on, “When Pam’s dog Gemma went missing, she asked for help look
ing for her and for people to keep an eye out, that sort of thing.”

  “And now you know through this community that others have had similar experiences too?”

  “Yes, we asked if anyone else had recently lost their dog and then got it back under unusual circumstances, meaning that those that had fallen prey to this gang would know what we meant but others wouldn’t and be worried. Seemed like the right way to approach it. And two came forward. The little Jack Russell to my knowledge is still missing.” Ruth watched Amanda scribbling notes in her pocket notebook.

  “Well, from what we know so far, this only started recently so we’ll suppose this gang has only just moved into the area. How long they stay is anyone’s guess, though I know of these gangs from experience. Some of them are pretty nasty. Pet ransoms have a habit of turning into something much bigger as the gang gets more confident and it’s not unknown for dogs to be stolen, ransom demands made but then the animal finds itself in a far worse situation, never going back home despite payment being made. It’s quite horrific. Can you get the details of the two that came forward online? I’ll need to get statements from them too.”

  “Absolutely, now they have their pets back I’m sure they’ll help but you can understand why none of these people came forward as it was happening. Not nice to have your family pet go missing. I’ll message them both as soon as you leave. What’s the best way to contact you?”

 

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