Behind Closed Doors
Page 32
“I feel safe with you,” Scarlett replied. “Please, Sam. You make me feel safe for the first time in my life.”
“I’m sorry,” Sam said. “I really can’t.”
She took another step back, turning back toward her car to see with a sudden shock that Caro was there, with Juliette following behind her.
18:55
“That wasn’t what it looked like,” Sam said.
Caro smiled at her. “None of my business,” she said cheerfully.
Sam was walking her back to her car. Juliette had been checked in to Scarlett’s room and they had gone off together, peacefully enough. The hotel receptionist had knocked off early and been replaced by a security guard who was former Job. Caro recognized him and there had been a bit of banter about who had retired and what they’d ended up doing.
While all this hilarity had been going on, Sam had been standing awkwardly behind Caro wondering if Caro had any idea what had just happened.
Caro had ended the trip down Memory Lane with Steve by asking him to keep an eye on the women in Room 116 and to call her immediately if anything untoward happened.
“Right you are,” he’d said, pocketing her card.
It was cold and dark outside and everything felt ominous to Sam. “Seriously, Caro. I know I should report it—but she’s just confused. Her emotions are all over the place.”
Caro stopped and turned to face her. “You know what you’re doing,” she said. “I won’t say anything. Lord knows I’ve been in awkward situations.”
Sam said nothing.
“Oh, you daft mare! Come here.” Caro pulled her into a big, comforting hug. “Don’t worry. It’ll all be all right in the morning. And we have work to do, don’t we?”
“Thank you,” Sam said.
“You want me to pick her up tomorrow, along with Juliette?”
“That would be great, thanks. I’ll see you down at the nick after?”
“I’ll ring you when I’ve got them there.”
When Sam got back to her own car she sat in silence for a moment, watching Caro’s car turning, the headlights swinging around across the front of the hotel, then her taillights as she drove out of the car park. She looked across to the hotel entrance, as if she expected to see Scarlett running out of it, but the hotel was quiet and still.
Sam turned on the ignition and drove slowly out of the car park toward home.
She was just turning onto her driveway when her phone bleeped. The message was from a number she didn’t recognize—07101 405441. And yet it looked familiar. . .
Sorry I didnt want to get you into trouble. I like you. Please dont worry. S xx
She stared at the message for a long time. There was nothing she could reply. Eventually she hit “save to contacts” and in the box for first name typed “Spare phone.”
LOU
Monday 4 November 2013, 23:55
After an hour of lying awake, Lou got up and went back downstairs to the kitchen. Cocoa had never helped her sleep before but it was worth a try, and besides, she’d forgotten to eat anything so her stomach was rumbling.
There was a danger in going to bed with an investigation churning around in your head like this, Lou thought as she waited for the milk in the pan to heat through. When it got late and you’d been busy all day without a break, there was a point when the logic became malleable and you could end up coming to all sorts of conclusions. And, in the cold light of day, things that had seemed not only probable but even incontrovertible fact suddenly looked rather foolish.
Usually Lou was quite good at switching off. Even though she didn’t come home to a family every evening, it felt natural to leave work behind at her front door and she never found it hard to forget about it all, even for a few hours. But this felt different. There was something she was missing, she thought, rhythmically stirring a spoon of cocoa together with a little milk and some sugar, something that was right there—and she couldn’t grasp it. Tomorrow she would meet with Rob Jefferson, review all the intelligence and see what they could come up with together. And then she would get Zoe Adams or someone else to do her a proper network chart for the Cunningham OCG and see if that sparked anything.
If Jason had gone to hockey practice, he would be home by now. In fact he would more than likely be in bed.
The milk surged up in the saucepan and Lou caught it in time, pouring it into the mug. It didn’t look particularly appetizing but it would have to do. She took the cocoa back into the living room, curling up into the corner of her sofa and cupping her fingers around the mug. When she checked her phone, she saw that she had a text message from Jason, sent just six minutes ago.
I just got home. Hope your day wasn’t too stressful.
Without thinking any further, she dialed his number.
“Hey,” he said. “You still up?”
“I can’t sleep,” she said. “How was your practice?”
“It was okay. I’m sorry about earlier.”
“I’ve forgotten about that. In fact, I think you might well have helped clarify things.”
“That sounds ominous.”
Lou smiled. “I didn’t mean us. I meant the investigation.”
“Oh—hey, well that’s good news.”
There was a little pause. Lou was waiting for him to ask if he could come over. She suspected he might also be waiting for her to ask him the same thing. In the end, he gave up first.
“So, are you doing anything tomorrow night?”
“I’ve got no plans,” she said. “Just, you know, the usual . . .”
“I know. I could make you dinner. The offer’s there, you know, if you feel like it.”
“Thanks, Jason,” Lou said. “Might see you tomorrow, then.”
“Goodnight, beautiful.”
The cocoa had cooled now so Lou drank it in one go. It was so sweet it made her teeth ache, but at least her stomach had something in there to quieten it. Better still, her thoughts had crystallized following that conversation, and as she cleaned her teeth for the second time she knew what it was that had been troubling her.
Reggie Stark.
First thing in the morning, she would look him up.
PART SEVEN
DEATH IS NEVER THE END
LOU
Tuesday 5 November 2013, 05:50
The MIR was quiet and in darkness when Lou got to work. It had been a long time since she’d been the first one in, but, having slept—eventually—she had been wide awake again at five.
She turned on the workstation in her office and went to get a coffee from the vending machine. Headquarters was stretching itself into life: corridors humming with vacuum cleaners, fluorescent lights blinking on from the offices across the other side of the smaller car park. Lou could hear a conversation going on from the stairwell—something about a “top result” and a “nice way to go out”—from which, taking into account the laughter that accompanied the exchange, she deduced a good arrest—or a judge’s commendation—ahead of an imminent retirement.
The computer was patiently awaiting her log-in details, and a minute later she was into the intelligence database, putting in a search for Paul Stark, known as Reggie.
Seeing the name had reminded her of previous encounters with him, years ago, when she was working in CID. Back then Paul Stark had just graduated from nicking cars for fun and a little profit, and had moved on to metal theft, stealing cables from building sites and even, in the end, fully installed ones: down a manhole at one end of a rural road, cutting a cable, then down the manhole again at the other end with a cable drum ready to wind it all up and transport it away, leaving whole villages without landlines or internet. Paul Stark had had a brother, Ronnie Stark—hence Paul’s nickname, the matching “Reggie”—who had been electrocuted while trying to cut live cable. Of course, it was too much to hope for that Reggie would take his brother’s gruesome and tragic death as a sign that he should earn a living by safer, more legal means.
There were pages and page
s of intelligence on him. Everything from what car he was driving to what the last argument with his girlfriend had been about. Most of it was about other people, with Reggie getting an honorable mention for being there during a stopcheck, for appearing on various nominals’ phone records, for nicking a bottle of white rum from a corner shop, for shouting abuse at a kebab shop owner, for being a general pain in the backside.
This was where she needed an analyst.
Intel Reports on Paul Stark
5X5X5 INTELLIGENCE REPORT
Date: 09 August 2013
Officer: PC 9921 EVANS
Subject: Paul STARK DOB 04/05/1982, Lewis McDONNELL DOB 21/10/1953, Harry McDONNELL DOB 06/07/1956
Grading: B / 2 / 1
Paul “Reggie” STARK has had a falling-out with the McDONNELLs. This is believed to be because he was “sampling the goods” when he was supposed to be providing security for the brothel that Lewis McDONNELL operates from a property in Briarstone. (Research suggests this may refer to the property in Carisbrooke Court, Briarstone.)
5x5x5 Intelligence Report
Date: 09 August 2013
Officer: PC 9921 EVANS
Subject: Paul STARK DOB 04/05/1982, Lewis McDONNELL DOB 21/10/1953, Harry McDONNELL DOB 06/07/1956
Grading: B / 2 / 4
Paul STARK has had a falling out with the McDONNELLs. As a result he is living in fear of reprisals from them.
5X5X5 INTELLIGENCE REPORT
Date: 21 August 2013
Officer: PC 9921 EVANS
Subject: Paul STARK DOB 04/05/1982, Lewis McDONNELL DOB 21/10/1953, Harry McDONNELL DOB 06/07/1956, Gavin PETRIE DOB 17/03/1975
Grading: E / 2 / 1
The McDONNELL brothers used Paul “Reggie” STARK to provide security until recently, when he became unreliable. Since then they have been using Gavin PETRIE instead, although the brothers see him as a “loose cannon.”
5X5X5 INTELLIGENCE REPORT
Date: 3 September 2013
Officer: PC 9921 EVANS
Subject: Paul STARK DOB 04/05/1982, Lisa JACKSON DOB 01/06/1989
Grading: B / 2 / 1
WARNINGS: Officer Safety Attended 14 Ambleside Crescent, Park Hill, H/A of Paul “Reggie” STARK and Lisa JACKSON for a welfare check on the premises as Lisa has not been attending meetings with her drugs counselor. Lisa was not at home. at the time. Of note is that STARK keeps a baseball bat to the right of the main front door (not the porch) and there is a samurai sword on a mount above the fireplace. STARK advised patrol that he keeps the bat handy as “you never know who’s going to turn up.” Suitable advice was passed to Mr. STARK.
5X5X5 INTELLIGENCE REPORT
Date: 13 September 2013
Officer: PC 9921 EVANS
Subject: Paul STARK DOB 04/05/1982, Darren CUNNINGHAM DOB 12/11/1976, Ryan COLEMAN DOB 12/01/1990
Grading: B / 2 / 1
Paul “Reggie” STARK has been associating with Darren CUNNINGHAM since August. It is believed that STARK has been debt-collecting for CUNNINGHAM, sometimes with Ryan COLEMAN.
5X5X5 INTELLIGENCE REPORT
Date: 24 September 2013
Officer: PC 9921 EVANS
Subject: Paul STARK DOB 04/05/1982, Lewis McDONNELL DOB 21/10/1953, Harry McDONNELL DOB 06/07/1956, Darren CUNNINGHAM DOB 12/11/1976
Grading: B / 2 / 1
Paul “Reggie” STARK is aware of the feud that is taking place between the McDONNELL brothers and Darren CUNNINGHAM. As he has been associating with CUNNINGHAM, STARK is now concerned that he may become a target.
SAM
Tuesday 5 November 2013, 07:20
“Sam? I’m glad you’re here. Come and have a look at this.”
Sam had only been in the MIR a minute, hadn’t taken off her jacket.
This morning there had been a series of texts from “Spare phone,” most of them sent overnight.
00:19—Hi sorry again abt what happened. Need to see u to explain. Xx
01:42—Cant sleep thinking abt u. Fucked everything up. Feel bad. Xx
04:25—Remember I said being alive again was hard? This is the hardest thing. Wd be better to have stayed dead LOL. Xx
Sam had tried calling when she’d woken up just before six, but there had been no reply. Scarlett must have fallen asleep at last.
Lou was in her office. When Sam came in, Lou was tapping her computer screen with the end of her pen. “Look! What do you think?”
It didn’t look much. Lou had copied the text of a number of intel reports, most of them about Paul Stark.
“What about him?” Sam asked. “He’s one of the Cunningham lot, isn’t he? Ali and I saw him in the hospital; he’d been visiting Ian Palmer. Valerie said he’d been visiting him every day.”
“Was he now? That’s interesting too. Just confirms it, confirms he’s with the Cunninghams. But look, Sam, look who he was mates with before that.”
“The McDonnells?”
“And?”
“It’s this bit that’s interesting me. Look.”
Lou scrolled down the text until she got to one of the reports. “This one was misfiled. Some numpty spelled ‘Cunningham’ wrongly and created a new nominal record for him, and they didn’t bother to link it to Stark’s record either. Jason found it last night. Listen to this bit: ‘There is a feud developing between Darren Cummingham and the McDonnell group. This started because one of Cummingham’s runners was warned off for dealing in one of the pubs controlled by the McDonnells. Cummingham is not happy and is getting Paul Stark to sort it out for him.’ What do you make of that?”
“Ian Palmer was the runner?”
“Of course he was.”
“Well, that would make sense.”
“There’s more, Sam. This is where it gets really intriguing. Look at the other intel on Cunningham.”
Lou clicked on another document. Over Lou’s shoulder, Sam saw the words ‘Jason Mercer’ and recognized it as a subject profile. The subject in question was Darren Cunningham.
Something about a drugs delivery.
“This one. Look at the date!” Lou said.
“The nineteenth and twentieth of September?” Sam said.
“Palmer was assaulted in the early hours of the twentieth of September. I think that’s connected with what went wrong with Cunningham’s delivery. Maybe Palmer was in charge of it.”
Sam raised an eyebrow. “It’s a pretty big leap. Even if Palmer was Cunningham’s runner, would he be trusted with something that big?”
“I know, I know. But it’s not just that. I’ve made another massive assumption. Hear me out. Look at this intel on Paul Stark. He keeps a baseball bat at home.”
Lou was counting it off on her fingers. Sam watched, remembering Lou banging on about Sam losing her objectivity yesterday.
“What if Cunningham loses his shipment that night, when he’s put one of his dealers in charge of it? And that same person has pissed McVey off more than once. And something happens as a result of him being in that pub, and he’s beaten into a coma in the process. Who’s Cunningham going to suspect is the culprit? McVey—who happens to be associated with the McDonnells. Are you with me?”
“Okay . . . and so Cunningham has McVey bumped off in revenge?”
“More than revenge. He wants his drugs back. And who is he going to give that job to? The new boy, who’s just transferred allegiance from McDonnell’s camp to his. The new boy who keeps a baseball bat at home for protection. What a test of loyalty.”
“Paul Stark,” Sam said.
Lou nodded. “And McVey’s found nine days later with serious head injuries caused by being beaten with a blunt instrument. Like a baseball bat.”
“Have you spoken to Rob Jefferson yet?”
“Not yet—he’s not come in. I need to catch him before the briefing. Can you start putting a search warrant together for me? We need his shoes and his bat before he gets rid of them. And I want Stark brought in for questioning. There’s enough here.”
“Sur
e. I’ll do it now.”
“Sam?”
Sam had turned to go, stopped in the doorway.
“How’s everything going with Scarlett? Is she still in the hotel?”
“I dropped her off last night. Caro is going to bring her in with Juliette this morning. They’re not booked in again for tonight, so we might need to find somewhere else for them, unless they can go back to the house. Though they might not want to, I guess.”
“Great. We’ll sort something out if we need to. You know . . . what I said yesterday . . .”
“It’s fine,” Sam said, taking a deep breath.
“I know what I’m doing. Jo made the mistake of getting too involved. I’m not about to fall down that particular hole.”
Date: 5 November 2013
To: DCI Louisa SMITH
From: Zoe ADAMS
Re: Op Vanguard—phone attributed to Scarlett RAINSFORD
Since receiving the original data extract from SB of the download of the phone seized from Scarlett RAINSFORD DOB 11/01/1990 (ref: the number ending 891), I have run additional checks on the numbers featured in the spreadsheet attached and noted the following in the data from 891:
Briarstone 411924
This number has only recently been added to the database following Crime Report Number PZ/015567/13—Burglary Dwelling at 14 Russet Avenue, Briarstone on the night of 2/3 November 2013, and so did not show up when Brian TEMPLE (SB analyst) completed his original report on the phone seized from Scarlett RAINSFORD (891).
This number has been entered on the database as the landline number of this address. There are regular incoming calls from this landline to 891, two or three a week during the period 01/09/2013 to 31/10/2013, with no particular pattern regarding days or times. Calls from 411924 to 891 are on two occasions immediately preceded by an unanswered call from 891 to 411924, suggesting that this may be some kind of pre-arranged signal to call back. Durations normally vary from 2 seconds to 50 seconds. On Friday 25 October at 12:25hrs there is an unanswered outgoing call made from 891 to 411924, followed a minute later by an incoming call lasting 14 minutes 55 seconds. (Of note: the unanswered call is immediately preceded by one of 21 minutes’ duration received from number ending 512—see separate phone analysis document for more details about this number. There are no calls after this, although it should be noted that the RAINSFORDs flew to Spain for their holiday on Monday 28 October, and the handset was seized from Scarlett RAINSFORD on 31 October.