Dead or Alive (17 page)

Sep looked at her. Even in this half-light, dressed only in his coat she looked good, but bruised.

‘They hurt you?' he asked.

‘Yes.'

‘Badly?'

‘I was raped.'

‘Bastards! Will you be OK?'

‘I think so.'

‘I'm not surprised the scam didn't work,' he said.

‘It was a scam that used to work for me.'

‘Not against these sort of people.'

‘OK, don't rub it in. That thought's already crossed my mind.'

‘And you called
me
a lunatic! Winnie, it would never have worked with people like this. Anyway, who are they? I assume you spoke to them.'

‘I saw one at the door and one who brought me down here. He stripped me, then he …' she hesitated, then said, ‘It brought it all back to me.'

‘You mean Johnstone?'

‘Yeah. In a way this was worse. I thought he might kill me.'

Sep had interviewed rape victims before, but only in the presence of a woman officer. It was hard to know what to say. He settled for: ‘Are you OK?' It seemed inadequate the instant it came out of his mouth. ‘Sorry, of course you're not OK.'

‘Sep, it was awful. He made me feel worthless, as if my feelings didn't matter. As if I didn't matter. After he finished, he peed on me.'

Sep cringed with disgust. ‘Jesus!'

‘He treated me like a toilet. I'm not sure I've got any self-respect left.'

‘That's what rape's about. It's sickening. It's not about sex, it's about power.'

‘It's something I might struggle to get over while ever he's in this world.'

‘I'm really sorry, Winnie.'

Sep looked around the cellar. It had whitewashed walls that had seen better days, a dusty concrete floor and a plaster ceiling that was crumbling in many places. The only window was quite tiny, much too tiny for him to crawl out of. Maybe nine inches wide by twelve inches high. It didn't open and the glass was reinforced with wire mesh. He looked at Winnie who was quite small and he visually measured her against the window. She read his thoughts and tried to collect her own.

‘I've thought of that as well, but we'd have to smash all the glass with our hands and leave nothing sticking out or it would rip me to shreds, plus I'm fairly sure even I wouldn't fit through it. Maybe ten years ago, but not now.'

Sep nodded his agreement and said, ‘We couldn't even get the glass out without proper tools.'

He got to his feet and took a closer look to see if it might be possible to take out the window complete with frame, but it looked to be too well-embedded into the wall. He then punched at the ceiling that was only six inches above his head. He was showered with plaster, leaving his face and clothes caked in white dust. He stood there, looking at Winnie, and tried to make light of their situation.

‘My mother said there'd be days like this.'

It raised a faint smile from her. He brushed the plaster dust off with his hands and took a look at what he'd done. He tugged away at the plaster lathes that were nailed to nine inch deep joists that supported floor boards. Given a couple of hours, a hammer and chisel, he reckoned he could break through the floor above him. He listened to see if he heard footsteps above, but there was nothing. It made no difference. He'd make too much of a noise, even if the room above was unoccupied. Then he went over to the door. It was a typical cellar door, built for service not for style – ledged and braced. He kicked at one of the vertical timbers. It didn't move. He knew that once he'd kicked one of them free he could easily kick away a couple more. The one he was kicking now seemed to be giving. He stepped back to give it one almighty kick when the lock rattled and the door opened. Light flooded in behind Dragos, who was pointing a gun at Sep. He took in the situation at a glance and gave Sep a crocodile smile.

‘Take off your shoes and socks,' he ordered. ‘If you wanna kick the door down you do it with bare feet, but I will hear you and I kill you when you come up the steps. Who the fuck are you, anyway, and why were you snooping around?'

‘I wasn't snooping, I was looking for my friend here.'

‘She your ladyfriend, eh?'

‘Yes,' said Sep.

‘She's my ladyfriend now. She let me fuck her.'

He laughed out loud at his own joke. Sep, reluctantly took off his shoes and socks and handed them to the Romanian who said, ‘You be quiet down here. You are disturbing the girls who are going about their work.'

‘You mean the under-age girls you forced into becoming prostitutes!'

It was an outburst Winnie would regret. Dragos swung the gun in her direction. ‘I think maybe you know where our missing girl is. I will tell this to the boss.'

‘I hate you, you filthy bastard,' she hissed.

Dragos sneered at her and slapped her face, knocking her to the floor. ‘Who cares what you think, bitch?'

He left and locked the door behind him. Winnie rubbed her face and looked up at Sep. ‘Sorry about that. They'll know we're tied in with Gabriela now.'

He helped her to her feet, saying, ‘Gabriela mentioned under-age girls, did she?'

‘She did – mainly from India or some such place. The real young ones weren't Europeans, apparently.'

‘Smuggled in illegally more than likely.'

‘What do you think they'll do to us, Sep?'

Sep looked at her but didn't answer. She didn't want to know what he thought. Winnie knew better than to ask again.

V
incent Formosa sat back in his chair and looked up at Cope who had just come into the room. Formosa had four places of work and one domicile. None of his employees knew the whereabouts of more than one of his places of work and none of them knew where he lived. Formosa existed on the verge of paranoia about his own safety. Prison would be bad for him, worse than for most. Nowadays, the law had a habit of stripping criminals of their illegally acquired wealth. He did have wealth that had been legally acquired through investments, but not if he had to explain where he got the money from in the first place.

‘Ah, Detective Inspector Cope. Thank you for coming.'

Cope stiffened. He didn't like Formosa using his police rank in this place. He would have much preferred to be called Lenny. It made him less of an alien.

‘I've had to do a little tidying up. Sharky and Spud are no longer with us. In fact they're no longer anywhere.'

‘I see,' said Cope.

‘Do you approve of this?'

‘I was never comfortable with them knowing who I was. They were a mouthy pair, never took this work seriously.'

‘Yes, well you're one of the reasons I had to get rid of them. They were quite efficient in their work, but a loose remark could have jeopardized your position with us, which is why I'm concerned about you screwing the copper's wife.'

‘Well he's an ex-copper now. I needed him out of the way because he had this suspicion about me. Nothing he could ever put his finger on, but I think a lot of the local plods don't trust us London lot.'

‘So, now he's out of the way, why are you staying with her?'

‘Well, she knows a lot of copper's wives who exchange useful gossip, so she's handy to have on my side and she's good in bed.'

‘Good in bed being the main reason. So long as you never exchange any loose gossip with her.'

‘Vince, I spent four years doing undercover work. I know when to keep my mouth shut. She knows I set her husband up. She helped me do it, to get rid of him.'

‘I gather she had you give her a good beating so she could blame it on him.'

‘Yeah, she took it well – game girl in many ways. She thought she'd married beneath her, and when she met me, with my sophisticated ways and personal charm, she decided to ditch him for me. I think when I do ditch her there'll be hell on earth and I'm not quite ready for that.'

‘I'll tell you when you're ready. It could be that she comes in handy at some stage. Not sure how.'

Cope sat down without being asked and leaned on Formosa's desk. ‘What are we doing about the kids?' he asked.

‘Do you have any ideas?'

‘Well, we either get rid of them or we use them for blackmail. What other options are there?'

‘We cannot hand them back alive,' said Formosa. ‘However, their parents will want proof that they're still alive, so we'll have to hold them for a while longer. But kidnapping is so much easier when you don't have to hand hostages over.'

‘How much might they be worth?'

‘Two million.'

‘Hmm, well, it's my case so I could keep a handle on things from the police side.'

‘Obviously. If it's a successful job you get ten per cent – two hundred grand. I trust you hide this money away surreptitiously.'

‘I have investments that the police can't trace to me. I live frugally off my police salary. Mrs Black has the impression that I'm very tight with money.'

‘You must keep it that way. OK, we need to make contact again. I assume the Strathmore's phones are tapped by the police?'

‘Yes, and everything will be recorded and analysed.'

Formosa drummed his fingers on his desk. ‘OK,' he said. ‘We will make a demand with an untraceable mobile. Allow them to speak to their children for a few seconds then tell them this is a once-only offer. They pay up or the children die.'

‘So, all we have to do is figure out a safe way to pick up the money.'

‘This is no problem. I will have the money paid into a numbered Lichtenstein account. Within seconds of the money arriving in the account it will be transferred to other accounts all over the world. The Lichtenstein account will be closed and the money will be untraceable. As a further precaution they will be warned that we will know if the money is being tracked and if it is, the children will be killed.'

‘
Will
we know?'

Formosa shrugged. Cope knew not to press him, saying, ‘I'm impressed. I also have an overseas numbered account into which I'd like to have my money paid.'

‘As long as your account is secure, this is not a problem.'

S
ep was mooching around the cellar, examining the floor and walls in the fading light. He kicked, gently, at a dusty pile that had been swept into a corner, and frowned when his bare toe hit something hard. Bending down he found a piece of brick buried under the dust, maybe a quarter of a whole brick. He studied it and nodded as if to say this was what he'd been looking for.

‘What is it?' asked Winnie.

‘Just a piece of brick.'

‘Oh,' she said, then added, ‘Sep, do you think we should be saying our prayers or something?'

‘If you know any.'

‘Do you know any?' she asked.

‘I do, actually. Born and bred a Catholic, me. Lapsed, unfortunately.'

‘Are you going to unlapse yourself?'

‘It might not be a bad idea.'

‘Talking of ideas,' said Winnie, ‘I'm sure I saw a nail sticking out of the wall somewhere. Have you noticed it?'

He pointed at the wall. ‘There's one there, why?'

In front of him at head height was a nail, sticking two inches out of the wall. He figured it to be four inches long in total, probably there to hang things on, as was often the case in cellars.

‘Could you get it out, please?' Winnie asked.

‘Why?'

‘Just an idea,' she said, ‘humour me.'

Taking hold of it between his thumb and forefinger, Sep tried to loosen it. The nail had been hammered into the mortar joint between bricks. The ancient mortar gave way easily. He pulled the nail out and gave it to Winnie. It was what a joiner would call a four-inch-oval. Winnie went over to where he'd found it and stuck it back in the hole it had made, just one inch in. Sep looked on as, using the quarter brick, Winnie hammered the projecting three inches of the nail back against the wall and pulled it out again. It was now L shaped. She then put the other end in and did the same.

‘What're you doing, Winnie?'

‘Making myself a picklock.'

‘You can pick locks?'

‘I can. Most basic locks anyway and the mortise lock on this door's as basic as they come. No one puts expensive locks on cellar doors.'

‘Were you a burglar at some stage?'

‘No, but I've known a few who've taught me the tricks of the trade.'

Winnie knelt down in front of the lock and inserted the nail with one bent end facing upwards. Using the projecting bent end as a tiny handle she moved it back and forwards fractionally until she felt the nail was pressing against the lever inside the lock, then she pressed on the tiny handle and twisted it anti-clockwise; the lock clicked open. She turned to Sep, ‘Mickey Mouse lock. If I'd have thought of this earlier you'd still be wearing shoes.'

They stepped out into a narrow passageway, also illuminated by a small window. It was as bare as the cellar they'd just left. To their right was another door, presumably leading to another underground room and to their left was a flight of stone steps leading up to a door which would, hopefully, take them into the house. Sep went up the steps and listened at the door. He tried to open it but it was locked. He came back down.

‘I don't think there's anyone behind the door. Can you open it?'

‘I'll give it a try.'

He watched as she went up the steps and inserted her picklock into the keyhole. After a minute of trying he saw her shake her head and take the nail out. She inserted it once more and tried again, still with no luck. She came back down.

‘It's a much more complicated lock. I'm guessing someone needed the main cellar door to be secure.'

There was the sound of feet moving above them. Sep went to the other room door and tried it. It was open. He signalled for Winnie to come and join him, whispering to her.