‘Keep hold of me as long as division will allow,’ Jim said.
Harry said that he would and Jim turned and headed off. Once he was out of earshot, Harry turned to face Vinnie. He looked serious.
‘Where’s your driver?’ Harry asked.
‘Dropped him off en route.’
‘You fit to drive?’
‘Trust me; I’m stone cold sober now.’
‘The latter bit better be true, and I need to know that I can rely on the former bit, too.’
Vinnie felt a little offended, but decided to say nothing. Harry carried on. ‘I’ve decided to let the “lights and TV” thing slip for now, we’ve got too much on and I need you focused.’
‘Yes, Harry, sorry again.’
Harry opened his mouth to speak, but his phone rang. He walked away as he took the call, and from what Vinnie could hear, he wasn’t too happy with the caller. He finished and returned as Vinnie was looking over the railing trying to image how someone could willingly jump over it backwards — he was struggling to do so.
‘That was Preston comms room,’ Harry started, and then went on to explain that there had been a change of shift and the night communications room supervisor had found an unfinished log from hours earlier. Apparently, DS Grady had called into the station early evening looking for them but left without leaving a message, or a contact number. Vinnie looked at his watch again; that had been several hours ago.
‘And they are just ringing you, now?’
‘Apparently, the operator had tried a couple of times but not got through.’
‘And left no message?’
‘Exactly, but I guess it wouldn’t have seemed so important to them.’
‘What did you tell them?’ Vinnie asked.
‘I told them that should DS Grady reappear, to make sure we are told as a priority. Then we can arrest her.’
Vinnie wasn’t surprised. ‘Time she answered some hard questions,’ he said.
‘Come on, let’s go and set up the incident room and then try and grab a couple of hours of kip. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day,’ Harry said.
Chapter Forty-Four
Babik had driven straight back to the address where Amal Sadiq was being held. She had been no trouble and was now asleep. He told his men to come back in the morning, he would bed down there for the night. But first, he fed his clothes into the brazier in the back yard, and put a fresh set on.
Once Amal’s husband had been sentenced, he would let Susan arrange her release. But instead of having the cops call here, he would play it safe and have Susan drop her off blindfolded in the city centre. Then he would burn the house. He’d taken a call earlier from Susan, who said she couldn’t find any mention of the mill on any of the intelligence databases at the police station, and he was as reassured as he could be that he was still ahead of the game with that. He told Susan to get some rest and to see him tomorrow.
Then his phone rang. He looked at the screen; his associate. ‘I was just about to ring you, Mr Boldo.’
‘Of course you were, Babik. You’ve been in that cold climate too long, you are slowing down,’ Boldo said.
It was summer and quite warm, but he didn’t correct Boldo. He knew what he meant.
‘Problem solved?’ Boldo asked.
‘Fully taken care of,’ Babik answered, and then filled him in on the new gold card vacancy.
‘Good. The mill?’
‘All good. A contact of mine has checked. She only just rang, which is why—’
‘Yes, yes, forget the bullshit, there is plenty enough of that where I’ve just left. But the mill, are you sure?’
As I was saying, Babik thought, but didn’t say. He continued, ‘There is no mention of the mill on any of the police’s databases.’
‘Good, very good.’
‘I wanted to raise with you the issue of exchanging the girls. As good as they are, some of the gold card holders are asking for a change.’
‘I’m fully aware of their use by dates. I will arrange replacements; we lost a top one recently, but I am expecting five more, very soon.’
‘That’s great; maybe we can increase the subscriptions accordingly?’
‘Indeed. What about the other issue?’
‘As you know, I have a very close contact in place and it appears that Sadiq is keeping his word.’
‘Pity we can’t just pay an inmate to remove him,’ Boldo said.
‘Not as easy over here.’
‘But not impossible, no? If needed?’
Babik didn’t answer, he was still hopeful of using Sadiq in the future; he had been reliable. ‘What about the current girls?’ Babik asked instead.
‘Their removal will have to be managed carefully and I may have to return to Preston to take control of it.’
Babik had half expected this. He was always happier when his associate was back in his real home.
‘Besides, I have my own contacts now as you know.’
‘Maybe safer to stay away until you need to use them, reduce your exposure and therefore any risks to you?’ Babik said, as gently as he could.
‘How very considerate of you, Babik. But I’ll be the decider of that. Ring me with any updates,’ Boldo said, and then the line went dead.
*
Vinnie was in early the following morning and was being as helpful as he could in helping Harry to set up the incident room and take on the new case. Harry hadn’t mentioned the “lights and TV” thing again, so hopefully that was in the past. They had acquired an extra 10 detectives and still had DI Jim Day, for now. Harry asked Jim to act as office manager, to cover the post-mortem examination and manage the crime scenes. The motorway had been re-opened, but the bridge and road over it were still closed.
One pair of detectives was dispatched to Yorkshire to get as much background on the deceased as they could. A family liaison officer had already been identified and was to go with them.
A house to house team had been actioned to re-do last night’s quick door knock properly, and a search team was about to do a fingertip search of the bridge area.
Harry held a quick press conference — which, included Christine — but Vinnie avoided speaking to her. He knew she would just be covering the initial press liaison because she was already, coincidentally, in Preston. Someone else would take over later in the day.
It was nearing midday before Vinnie stopped to catch his breath in their office. He had just finished a call when Harry walked in.
‘Any updates?’ Harry asked.
‘As a matter of fact, yes. Just had the intel unit on and initial background checks on the deceased have thrown up some interesting stuff.’
Harry raised an eyebrow in reply, so Vinnie continued. ‘No previous cons, but there is plenty of intelligence courtesy of South Yorkshire, to suggest that our lottery winner was also a bit of a spender when away from home.’
‘Gambling?’ Harry asked.
‘No, prostitutes.’
‘Let’s stay on that as a priority,’ Harry said.
‘I’ve already told the DS running the Yorkshire away team.’
‘I also bring news,’ Harry said, and added, ‘I’ve just spoken to Jill at CPS, Sadiq’s just been sentenced.’
Vinnie was surprised his case had been dealt with so soon. ‘How’d he get on?’
‘Thirty-nine months, which Jill reckons is par. He’ll be out in 18 or 19 if he behaves. Less, if he keeps his promises.’
‘Just up to us to bring cases against Babik, Grady and Fletcher, then.’
‘And we only know where one of them is — Fletcher.’
‘Can’t go near him until we have the other two,’ Vinnie said.
‘Agreed, and even then, only when we are watertight against him. I’ve dealt with that slippery bastard before. Always had my suspicions. But first we have a more pressing issue.’
Amal Sadiq, Vinnie thought. But where to start?
‘Let’s assume she is being held somewhere in the city centre
. So let’s get a ring of patrols working in ever reducing concentric circles towards the centre looking for any sign of her or Grady. Or indeed Babik, though I wouldn’t expect him to show.’
‘I’ll ask Jim to arrange that, being local. And let’s add a van with a loudspeaker, it might provoke a response,’ Vinnie said.
‘Good idea, and make sure we have some poster-sized photos of Amal on the side of the van. Someone must have seen her.’
Chapter Forty-Five
Christine saw Vinnie from across the incident room, where Harry had just held a press conference concerning the man who had ‘fallen’ from the bridge the night before. That was obviously what had diverted Vinnie from their single bed shenanigans. She sighed inwardly, and wondered if they would ever get any private time. But now was not the time to dwell on such things. June had asked her to cover the initial press conference, and promised to get someone else up to Preston mid-morning with an OB unit so that she could carry on with plan A.
Christine found a coffee shop in the city centre, where she could have breakfast, and email her copy in from her smartphone using the coffee shop’s free wifi. When she’d finished, June rang her and asked her what she planned to do next. ‘I thought I’d start with the homeless. There’s a refuge in the centre and then if that draws a blank, I’ll head up to the red light district and see if any girls have started early today.’
‘What about the area where you last saw that van?’ June asked.
‘It’s near to the red light district, so I’ll have a snoop around whilst I’m there.’
‘I know you are a big girl, but be careful,’ June said.
Christine smiled to herself. She knew that on one level, June was mentally ticking a box as she spoke. But she also knew the editor did actually care.
‘Oh, before you go, can you email a photo of the deceased? So we can at least put a visual up on screen when the news item goes out.’
‘Sorry, June, they haven’t released it yet. They say they won’t, until the body has been formally identified.’
‘Or they decide they want an urgent press appeal,’ June said.
Christine didn’t answer. She wasn’t in the mood for one of June’s ‘the police are only nice when they want something’ rants. June ended the impasse herself. ‘I’ll get your replacement to harangue Harry Delany as soon as they land in Preston.’
Christine exchanged farewells with June and then headed out of the café.
Ten minutes later she was talking to a lovely middle-aged lady, who was in charge of the day staff at the Centre Safe Stay refuge. Currently, there were ten overnighters of whom only two were up, each nursing a cup of tea. Neither had ever heard of a Babik or a Boldo who ran girls. And as she had no descriptions, she had known it was a long shot, but to be honest, if she’d asked the two she spoke to what their own first names were, she doubted she would have received a more convincing response. But it was worth a try. The lady said she could come back later if she wanted. Christine knew that if she mentioned these slimeballs’ names often enough, her entreaty might just reach the right ear; or the wrong one.
Next she’d try Fletcher Road, in the Deepdale part of the city. She knew she’d have far more luck from early evening onwards, but it was still worth a try now. She knew from experience that many, if not most, of these girls were heroin addicts and that could force them out early, hoping to pick up a passing punter to raise money for their breakfast fix. She almost hoped she wouldn’t find any this early. It wasn’t ten o’clock yet.
*
An hour later she had driven around Fletcher Road and all roads leading to and from it, and hadn’t seen a single streetwalker. She’d found the bit of rough land where the punter had parked his van the other day, but it was empty now. Much of this area had clearly once been a thriving community of terraced houses, but most were gone, replaced with industrial units interspaced with the odd mill. The new and old architecture were ill-fitting neighbours. She decided to park up and walk.
As a journalist she was never happier than when she was out and about chasing a story, unlike some of her peers. Vinnie had once made a similar comment about detectives, although they would have to venture out more than a reporter, but you couldn’t really get a feel for a place unless you breathed in the air it stood in. Same with crime scenes for Vinnie no doubt.
She was just about to give up for the moment, when her phone rang. She pulled over to take the call. It was Vinnie. He was calling for two reasons: firstly, to apologise for his early departure due to the bridge death, and secondly, to ask if she intended to stay in Preston all day again.
She was. ‘We both have our jobs to do, as you have often said, Vinnie, so no worries and yes, I’ll probably have to work tonight in Preston.’ But before she could elaborate, something caught her eye. A blue car, 100 metres up ahead, had abruptly pulled over. It must have passed her, but she hadn’t noticed. What caught her eye now, apart from its sudden movement, was that she could see that there were two people in it, and the driver reached across the front seat passenger to push the door open. She asked Vinnie to hang on a sec as she watched further.
The driver pushed the passenger out of the car and drove off with the door still open. Forward motion closed it, but her attention was now on the passenger. A female, who had landed roughly onto her side. She had a bag of some kind over her head. Christine quickly told Vinnie what she had seen and he said he would be with her in five.
Christine drove up alongside the woman and jumped out of the car to help her. She could see that the woman was struggling to get to her feet; then she saw why. Her hands were tied behind her back. Christine quickly untied the woman as she reassured her. Taking the balaclava from her head, she revealed a lady of Asian heritage, in her late thirties. The woman said she was OK as she slowly recovered her breathing. Christine helped her into her car and told her that the police were on their way. The woman looked very relieved and then, Christine asked her name.
‘Amal Sadiq,’ the woman said. ‘I’ve been held hostage for several days.’
Chapter Forty-Six
Christine stayed with Amal, at Amal’s request, as she was taken by Vinnie to the Royal Preston Hospital. Vinnie remained professional throughout, and Christine noted that he limited his questioning of Amal about her incarceration to the bare minimum: did she know where she had been held? Did she know where her abductor was now? Amal said that all she knew was that the address was only a five minute drive from where she was released, and that a woman had driven her there. Vinnie said the rest could wait until she had been checked over.
Amal stated that she didn’t want anyone informed that she was now free, and in particular her husband Mohammed. When Vinnie told her that he had been sentenced to 39 months, she simply said, “Not long enough.” Clearly, all was not well with the marriage.
The visit to the hospital only took a couple of hours and the doctors said Amal had no physical injuries, but any mental ones could take longer to be obvious and they would refer her to see someone as an outpatient. However, it would take time as waiting lists were excessive. Amal didn’t seem too concerned and Christine could see that she was a very strong and resilient woman. She admired those qualities.
Once back at the police station, Amal asked Christine if she would remain with her as her chaperone, which she hadn’t expected, but was only too happy to do so. Vinnie spoke to Harry and he had said he had no problems with the arrangement, as long as Christine didn’t use anything she heard, or indeed broadcast anything at all, without prior approval. Christine had expected this, but did ask, ‘Surely we need to stand the public down, let them know that Amal has been found safe and well?’
‘You’re right, but let’s agree the form of words to be used first, said Vinnie.’
Christine nodded and they spent the next ten minutes doing just that. She put her mobile on loudspeaker as she reported in to June, so that Harry and Vinnie could hear. That done, Harry left to concentrate on the new murder and
promised to give June an update for the tea-time news. Apparently, the deceased’s widow had now formally identified the body and the post mortem was underway. Christine couldn’t image that it would take too long, and said so.
‘You be surprised,’ Vinnie said. ‘OK, he’s fallen from a motorway bridge and been hit by a car, so cause of death won’t take long, but with a Home Office pathologist it goes way beyond that. They’ll probably start with fingernail scrapings in case he had a tussle with his killer prior to being thrown to his death.’
So the cops thought he was pushed. Christine had suspected as much.
It was gone three o’clock by the time everyone was ready, and Vinnie brought one of his DCs into the interview room to join them. He said that once they had received Amal’s verbal account, the DC could write up her statement and Vinnie would then go through his notes and action any urgent lines of enquiry.
It was gone four by the time Amal had talked them through the first part of her ordeal, how she had been snatched and her initial days in captivity. What came next was more interesting. She had listened to conversations with as much concentration as she could muster, including when the boss man (clearly Babik, though she had never heard his name used) spoke on the phone with someone called Mr Boldo, whom she assumed was above him. Amal also explained how she’d struggled to understand the only female she encountered. Babik called her Sue or Susan, and they seemed to be an item. But whenever Sue was alone with Amal, as in when she brought her food and water, or took her to the bathroom, she was different: warmer and kinder.
Christine had keep her own mouth shut throughout the interview, as she had been instructed to do but found it nearly impossible to maintain, until Amal’s last remark. She jumped in. ‘But I saw the aggressive way that the driver of the blue car — Sue — pushed you out the passenger door onto Fletcher Road!’
Amal turned to face her. ‘Yes, I found that hard to compute myself. Throughout the journey she had been kind and apologetic, saying my incarceration had been without her knowledge or agreement, and then she just pushed me out the door like I was a dog. I wasn’t even sure that the car had completely stopped.’
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