Authors: Michael Hambling
‘So we agreed that since I was living here anyway, I’d start looking. Uncle Billy sent me an address that he thought was Blossom’s. He never told me where he’d got the information from. I did a bit of asking around in the other flats and found that he lived on the top floor but was hardly ever here. Then this flat came up for sale, so I decided to buy it and move in. It’s a lovely flat in a fantastic location and I thought it might give me a good chance of meeting and talking to him. And that’s what happened. Please believe me, I knew nothing about any criminal connections or gangs or anything, until the last day or two.’
‘So Billy didn’t give you the full picture?’
‘What do you mean? Did he know?’ She looked genuinely surprised.
‘He pulled the wool over your eyes, Jennie. With his younger brother Bobby, he ran one of the biggest criminal gangs in the Birmingham area. I had regular run-ins with him when I was with the West Midlands major crime unit, but we could never pin anything on him. He and I became a bit like chess opponents, circling round each other. But in a strange way I kind of liked him. I never knew they had a younger step-brother until last week when I visited him. Anyway, go on with what you were saying.’
‘Last week Blossom started living here full time, so I used the opportunity to get to know him and find out what had happened to my dad.’
‘And did you? Find out, I mean?’
‘Yes. He implied that my dad had been killed by the boss of the gang down here. Someone called Charlie Duff, as I told you. Years ago. And, you see, it fits with what Billy told me. He said to look for someone called Charlie.’
Sophie wondered if Billy realised what kind of people he’d been sending his niece to seek out. Lethal killers. He certainly knew that Duff had killed her own father.
‘And did you find out anything else?’
‘Yes. More than I’d ever hoped for. Blossom knew my mother. He told me that she’d died giving birth to me. He told me that my father was a waster, a drug addict. Blossom said he’d always loved my mother. I was trying to convince him to go to the police with what he knew, but he resisted. I only found out why today. That’s why we argued, and why I was walking away from him. I’d just realised what he’d been involved with and it horrified me.’
She looked at Sophie. ‘Is that why you’re so interested in him?’
Sophie nodded. ‘But that’s only part of it. How long ago did Blossom say your father was killed?’
‘He wasn’t definite. But I got the impression that it was a long time ago, maybe ten, fifteen years or more.’
‘Jennie, a few days ago we found the body of an adult male. It was buried under a patch of waste ground owned, we think, by Charlie Duff. We haven’t got anywhere with identifying it yet. Forensic experts have given us a rough age of late twenties or early thirties and they say it’s been buried for about fifteen years. Would you agree to a DNA sample? It would help us both. We might get a positive ID, and you’d have that part of Blossom’s story confirmed.’
‘Yes, of course,’ she whispered. ‘But it may not be necessary. I’ve already been DNA profiled. I did it a few months ago privately, soon after Uncle Billy contacted me. I expected that a DNA analysis would be useful if I was meeting people claiming to be from my birth family, so I got it done. I’ll get you the results. You may as well take them for checking.’ She got up and took a manila folder from a nearby bureau. ‘In just a couple of weeks I’ve had my whole life turned upside down. I may as well see it through.’
Sophie looked at her closely. How much did this woman deserve to know? Sophie gambled. She reached across the low table and took hold of her cold, shaking fingers.
‘There’s something else you need to know,’ she said softly. ‘Something that Billy Thompson probably hasn’t told you. Something that no one else knows, apart from me. Something that means that you and I are linked by two extraordinary events. Blossom told you that it was probably Charlie Duff who killed your father.’ She hesitated, trying to find the right words. ‘I’ve only found out in the last few days that Charlie Duff killed my father as well. Back in 1969, when my mother had only just become pregnant. No one else knows, Jennie. Not a soul. You and I are two daughters who’ve never known our real fathers. They’ve been taken from us by the same man.’
Monday
‘Are you alright, Sophie? It’s just that you went as white as a sheet yesterday afternoon at the car.’
They were sipping coffee in McGreedie’s office at Bournemouth police headquarters. Sophie and Marsh had just arrived in order to be updated on the details of Blossom Sourlie’s murder. Sophie grimaced as she took another sip of the hot, bitter liquid.
‘Kevin, this stuff is awful. It’s like watered-down tar. Can’t you get a decent coffee machine put in here? And thanks for your concern about yesterday, but I’m fine. I probably ducked down into the car too fast and made myself dizzy.’
‘If you say so. Are you getting enough sleep?’
‘Of course. Can we just get on, please? What have you found out?’
‘The gun had a silencer. That’s why the neighbour he’d been with only heard a popping sound. Ballistics are still looking at the bullets. Two shots to the head. He died instantly. We’ve searched the area meticulously but there’s nothing. They were pros. Either that or they were very lucky.’
‘Do you think the woman, Jennie Brown, was involved?’
‘It doesn’t look like it. Her version of events tallies with the statements we have from other witnesses who were in the gardens at the time. They confirm that she and Sourlie argued and that she walked away. There were two men involved in the shooting, we think. One stood back and kept a watch while the other walked right up to the victim and shot him at close range. It sounds as though Sourlie didn’t recognise his killer, which means it probably wasn’t this Duff character that she insists was behind it.’
‘But the second man stood well back?’
McGreedie nodded.
‘So that could have been someone who didn’t want to be recognised. Any further on how they got away?’
‘A car just at the top of the steps, hidden from the gardens by the shrubbery. It was waiting with its engine running and moved off fast, but not so fast that it drew much attention. The same with the men. They came across to the car from the top of the steps quickly, but not so fast that the few people around noticed much about them. We found the car late last night, abandoned on waste ground in Poole, burned out. At least we think it was the same one. It had been stolen earlier yesterday.’
‘So it looks as though there were three of them. One to carry out the shooting, one to keep watch and maybe identify the victim, and a driver for the getaway. Well, it links in with what she said. Sourlie told her that he’d just walked out on the gang. If that’s true, then it gives us the motive.’
‘She seems to know a lot, considering that she was just a neighbour who’d only known him for a few weeks,’ Marsh added.
‘I think she’s telling the truth, Barry,’ Sophie replied. ‘Apparently Sourlie had been opening up to her over the past couple of days. He’d told her about a gang member they’d killed a long time ago, and she’d urged him to talk to us. It could tie in with the body we found buried at the depot. By the way, I’m pushing through the DNA profiling of that one as a priority. I’ll let you know when the results come in.’
McGreedie finished his coffee. ‘You’re right about his walk-out giving them the motive. If he was about to spill the beans it would have been a big nail in the gang’s coffin. What turned him? Did she say?’
‘Apparently he didn’t know about the buried bodies on the farm. Those two with the cuts and slash marks. That’s what he told her. And that’s why they argued and she walked away. She had no idea what he was involved in until that moment. And, as I said, I don’t think she was lying. She was clearly in shock when I interviewed her, but I never felt that she was holding back on anything.’ Sophie paused. ‘I think you should speak to her too, Kevin. She still needs to make a formal statement and since you’re investigating Sourlie’s murder, it would be useful for you to interview her. Just in case I’ve missed something.’
‘I’ll do it if you think it’ll be useful. I’ll let you know if anything new crops up. It will all feed into the big picture.’
‘I still can’t see why he opened up to her,’ said Marsh. ‘It seems a bit strange, doesn’t it? If he’s the experienced thug we’re assuming he is, it doesn’t run true to type, does it? He’s only known her for a week or so, but he’s already told her that he’s been involved in drug trafficking, rape and murder. I don’t get it. Why would he tell her all that?’
‘She said he’d had enough. He hadn’t told her all of it until that final conversation when she walked away. And he claimed he didn’t know about the murders. He said that his main job was running the boat and getting supplies. He was away a lot, so was a bit out of touch. He walked out on them when he found out. That would have corresponded with us finding the bodies last week. She said that he seemed genuinely disturbed by it. And depressed,’ said Sophie.
‘Maybe. It just seems odd, that’s all.’ Marsh still seemed unconvinced.
‘I wonder if the rest of the gang are starting to panic,’ McGreedie said.
‘It’s difficult to say. They’ve now killed two of their own. The young lad Stefan, when he started making noises after he recognised Nadia — although he wasn’t important. But this Blossom character was a lot further up the hierarchy, I’d guess. He was listed as one of the directors of the front company, Midwinter Tide. One of the others, Hazel Duff, died a couple of years ago. Maybe there’s a power struggle going on and the others are feeling the pressure. Who knows? But at least we know a bit more about who we’re up against. We need to be cautious, Kevin. Any gang that can kill its own members so easily is very dangerous. This man Ricky Frimwell looks to be a psychopathic sadist from what we’ve discovered so far. And the man at the top, this Charlie Duff character? He could be the same.’ She paused. ‘And thanks to both of you for your concern. But you’ve no need to worry about me, really. I’m feeling a lot better about things this morning. I slept well last night for the first time in a fortnight, although I’d have been even better if this coffee was drinkable.’
She peered into the cup at the dregs. Barry Marsh hadn’t even finished his.
* * *
In the Swanage incident room, Pillay was on the phone.
‘No, I don’t think you should search it. Just leave it exactly as it is and withdraw. Get your squad car pulled right back out of sight and we’ll get someone over as soon as we can. We’ll just leave a plainclothes officer on watch, but we don’t want to spook any of the gang if they come for it.’
She put down the phone and turned to Sophie and Marsh.
‘That was the Poole control room. They’ve found the boat. They were about to search it, but you probably heard what I said. I thought it was better to keep a watch on it in case someone pays a visit. It’s tied up on a small mooring in Lytchett Bay, a creek off the north end of Poole Harbour. It’s almost completely covered by a tarpaulin. The name’s hidden, but one of the men took a peek under the covering.’
‘Absolutely right, Lydia. We’ll get Jimmy across there. He can have a quick look inside, then keep a watch.’
‘I could do it, ma’am. I’ve done all the other boat stuff.’
‘No, Lydia. I’ve got something else planned for you. So brief Jimmy, then get back to me in ten minutes. This is going to take a bit of planning.’
* * *
The night was cold and dank. A bone-chilling breeze was coming in from the west. They were protected by the high ground of the Wyke Regis and Charlestown areas west of Weymouth’s town centre, but the cold was numbing. Sophie wondered how long Pillay and Nadia would be able to keep up their watch. At least she and Marsh were sitting in a car, albeit with the engine off. The two young women were walking slowly around the seedy area by the railway station, on the lookout for street girls. Both wore hats and scarves. Sophie judged that it would be impossible for anyone to recognise the young Romanian girl. She was hoping that if the gang had decided to put the women out onto the streets, Nadia would recognise them. So far the two of them had made three wide circuits of the area, but to no avail. The pavements were empty. At one in the morning, Sophie finally called them back to the car.
‘We’ll give it another try tomorrow,’ she said. ‘There’s just no sign of life at all.’
‘I’m not surprised, ma’am. It’s Monday and too bloody cold for anyone to even think of being out on the streets looking for a girl. I’m perishing.’ Pillay warmed her fingers on a cup of coffee.
Nadia rubbed her hands, but her eyes were bright. ‘We’ll come every night until they are here. I do not mind cold. We must find Sorina.’
Pillay sighed. ‘She’s right. If they are going to be put onto the streets, then this is the right place. We did spot one working girl and had a brief chat, but she only hung around for a few minutes. They’ll be working by phone tonight. I’ll just have to pile on more thermal undies for tomorrow night.’
‘That’s the spirit, Lydia,’ Sophie said. ‘Now let’s all get home to our warm beds. We’ll meet again tomorrow morning at eleven. Try to get a good sleep.’
* * *
Thirty miles away, hidden from view in the porch of a chandler’s store, Jimmy Melsom was also chilled to the bone. He was sitting deep in the shadows on a low wall beside the entrance door, with a direct view of Midwinter Tide’s mooring. He kept glancing at his watch as the minutes ticked away. During the four hours he had spent on watch, no one had visited the area. If the weather had been more benign he would have considered staying beyond one o’clock. As it was, in these freezing conditions he would need the car heater on full for the thirty minute drive home.
He left the porch and walked along the quayside to his car, trying to keep to the shadows. He got in and drove away.
The gap-toothed man watched from a small jeep parked in a shadowy unloading bay between two tall buildings alongside the approach road. He’d only arrived a few minutes before and had, as usual, kept watch for five minutes before getting out. He’d been about to open the door of the jeep when a man walked by. Why had they been waiting in the shadows? Who was he? He stayed in the vehicle and took up his mobile phone.
‘Boss? There could have been someone watching the boat. He’s just walked to a car and driven away. Might be a cop. But there’s no one else around now. Do you think I should give the boat a miss and come back?’
He listened and then walked towards the boat. He boarded Midwinter Tide but didn’t stay for long. In less than half an hour he’d started up the jeep and was heading west.