Authors: Simon Kernick
âIt's not over yet, hon.'
âNo, but the worst part's sorted.'
âI saw on the news that two people got shot,' she said, easing herself away from my grasp. âWhat happened?'
âThey were Krys's associates. They tried to stop us, we had no choice.'
âDid you know that they've shown your mug on
Crimewatch?
' I shook my head. âIt was on last night. I saw it.'
âHow did I look?'
âFucking ugly, so better than usual. I hope your passport photo looks a lot different.'
âDon't worry. It'll look beautiful.'
âThat'll take some work.'
âYou know, Miss Toms, you're getting a little bit too disrespectful for my liking.' I removed my shirt and flung it on the floor.
âYou need a suntan.'
âYou need to be taught a lesson.'
âHow's little Krysy doing?'
âBlindfolded and shackled in a cellar, on a diet of bread and water.'
âGood. Kick that bastard for me, will you?' She pulled me towards her.
âI already have,' I said, tugging at my belt.
As I entered her, she asked me if I'd been the one who'd pulled the trigger in Heavenly Girls. I told her I had been.
The sex was fantastic.
Gallan
Knox looked at Berrin and me with a mixture of annoyance and confusion. We were in his office in the Matthews incident room, the last three people on the case, and it was eleven a.m.
âExplain this to me again,' he said, rubbing his eyes. âWe've all had a late night and I know I'm not quite with it this morning, but I'm sure you've just told me that your possible suspect in this inquiry is now tied in with the Jones murder.'
âThat's right,' I said, feeling that at this point I had nothing to lose. âI wouldn't say I'm sure of it, but I've got enough suspicions to warrant a full search of the house, and I believe I can get the owner's permission.'
âHow many murders are you trying to solve here?'
âAs many as I can.'
Knox sat up in his seat and took a large gulp of coffee. âIf we send SOCO round, what do you think they're going to find?'
âMaybe nothing, but it's got to be worth a shot. The Jones case has ground to a halt, everyone knows that. Even the Essex police found nothing when they reviewed it. So, if we can be seen to be doing something it certainly won't do us any harm.'
âI don't want to raise the hopes of the family. They're good people.'
âI know they are, but look at it like this. Robert Jones disappeared from that street one morning without anyone ever seeing him get taken. Now, that road's quite busy at that time, as we all know, so that was unusual in itself.'
âNot that unusual.'
âIf you'll let me finish, sir.' Knox motioned for me to go on. âI checked the pathologist's notes again yesterday. Robert's clothing had been interfered with but there were no other signs of sexual assault. It was also noted that he was murdered elsewhere before being dumped, and that, because of the lack of signs of a struggle or defensive injuries, he probably died very quickly after being taken. But the most important thing is that there were no signs of him being bound or gagged.'
Knox shrugged. âWe went over this during the investigation. He could have been thrown in the back of a van from where it would have been impossible for him to get out, and driven somewhere isolated where the murderer could finish him off without having to worry about him making a noise.'
I knew this wasn't going to be easy. Knox had been, still was technically, the man leading the inquiry. He was not going to want to have the theory that had underpinned it, that it had been a predatory paedophile who'd killed Robert, taken away from under him. âThat's possible, yes,' I persisted, âbut the thing is, we've never come close to finding the killer, and there's been no other abduction and murder of a young boy anywhere in south-east England since. Or, for that matter, in the year leading up to it.'
âThat doesn't necessarily mean anything, John. Robert Black was one of the worst predatory paedophiles of the last twenty years, and he often waited up to three or four years before re-offending.'
âTrue, but we know, or are pretty certain, that the house on Runmayne Avenue that Tony Franks rented was being used for some sort of illegal purpose linked to one of north London's most dangerous crime families, and it's going to have to have been something pretty lucrative for the Holtzes to shell out that much in rent every month. What if Robert saw something that caught his eye that morning and went to take a closer look?'
âLike what?'
âI don't know,' I admitted, âbut let's say he goes up to the house, takes a look, as any inquisitive thirteen-year-old would, and sees something he shouldn't. He gets spotted, is taken inside the house, and he's then murdered because his killer or killers have no choice but to get rid of him. They then dump his body, making it look like a sex crime in an effort to cover their tracks. Just like they did with Miriam Fox that time. I know it may well not be the likeliest scenario but it's got to be a possibility.'
Knox sighed. âI understand your desire to get a result on the Jones case, John. I know how much it affected you, all of us, but we're meant to be concentrating on the Matthews investigation.'
âI know, but let's face it, from what we've found out so far, the Holtzes or one or more of their associates had at least something to do with the murder of Matthews. Maybe Iversson's involved there too. And the problem we've got is it's difficult to get anyone to talk, but if somehow we can link members of their organization with what happened to Robert Jones, maybe we can loosen a few tongues and make some headway on both cases. No-one wants to protect child killers.'
âYou know how much it costs to get a team to give a house a full once-over?'
âYes, sir, it's a lot, but we've got a lead. It's not a great one but it's something, and on the Jones case particularly we haven't got any others, and haven't had for months. I know that SO7 are potentially interested in this too,' I added, trying to attach some authority to my request. âIt might give them a route into the Holtzes.'
âMaybe they should pay for the SOCO team, then.'
âIt's still our case, sir.'
Knox sat there not saying anything, sipping thoughtfully on his coffee. I knew I'd boxed him into a corner. He could say no and claim there simply wasn't enough in what I was saying, but if he made that decision and then, at some point down the line, it turned out that this had indeed been what had happened to Robert Jones, the buck would stop with him. That was one of the problems with twenty-first-century policing. Such was the power of technology that important evidence could be found years after the event. Although this could mean far more convictions, it also meant that the mistakes of police officers investigating crimes were forever open to exposure. Knox, like the consummate politician he was, decided to play it safe.
âWhat do you think, Dave?' he asked Berrin.
âI think the sarge is right, sir. It's got to be worth looking into. And it may well help the Matthews case.'
Knox finally nodded. âAll right, we'll go with it.'
Friday, two days ago
Iversson
âHave you got the money ready?'
âI told you, I need more time.'
âSo you haven't?'
âLook, you don't know who you're fucking around with here. If you don't let him go, I'll be coming after you, you hear me?'
âI'm not listening. Now, you hear me. We'll start pulling your boy's fingernails out unless you do what we say, when we say it.'
âIf you touch one fucking hair on his headâ'
âThen what? What will you do exactly?'
âI will kill you. Understand that. I will find you and I will saw your fucking legs off.'
âNothing'll happen to him if you give us the money we've requested. Why haven't you got it?'
âWhat guarantee have I got that he's even still alive?'
âThere's no point us killing him. He hasn't seen our faces and he doesn't know who we are.'
âYou hurt him and I'll hunt you down. There'll be no fucking hiding place.'
âYou've said that already. It wasn't frightening the first time. Now, have you got the money or not? Answer me now.'
There was a pause. âYeah, I've got the money.'
âGood. Now, listen carefully. At six-thirty p.m. tomorrow, be in the rear car park of the Post House Hotel on the Epping High Road. It's on the southern outskirts of Epping, just before the road crosses the M25. Have your mobile with you, as well as the money. And do not bring anyone else. Do you understand?'
âHow do I know you're not going to have a pop at me?'
âAll I want's that money. Nothing else. Be at the Post House tomorrow and I'll call you then.'
I thought I was getting good at this as I stepped out of the phone box into the light morning drizzle.
Gallan
After much persuasion, I managed to push the DCI into organizing the SOCO team to start their painstaking work that Friday morning. I watched them arrive from across the street, hoping they would turn up something, however small, that could solve the murder of the thirteen-year-old paperboy.
The previous evening I'd gone round alone to Robert's parents' house to tell them of the new developments and to remind them not to get too optimistic. They'd both nodded in understanding, and had thanked me for my help and my thoughtfulness in keeping them informed. I'd told them I was just doing my job, and Mrs Jones had put her hand on my arm and told me I was doing it well. And I'd thought then that, whatever happened with this lead, I would never stop until I found the person who'd killed their son and brought him to justice. It was why I was a copper. It was my vocation in life. The constant desire to give some sort of justice to people for whom fate had denied it.
I waited there for a long time as the white-overalled SOCO officers strode in and out of 41F Runmayne Avenue with their various paraphernalia. Only when I was satisfied they were taking the job seriously, that they would scour the place until they'd covered every square inch of it, did I finally turn and make my way back to the station.
When I got back to the incident room, Berrin was just coming off the phone. âThat was Martin Leppel,' he said, as I went and got myself a coffee.
âHas he got together that list of people we were after yet?' I knew Berrin had been hassling him about it all week.
He nodded. âYeah, he faxed it through about an hour ago. That's what I was phoning him about.'
âAnything interesting on it?' I asked, heading to his desk with the coffee.
âHere, take a look.' He passed over the typewritten list of names and dates and I scanned down it, immediately seeing what had caught his attention.
âWell, well, well. So, Craig McBride was there.'
âTwice. And for a total of nearly eighteen months. Leppel remembers him well. Says he was a right nasty piece of work, but definitely not a drug addict. Apparently some of his colleagues used to take the piss out of him because for all his so-called hardness he was petrified of needles.'
âI knew there was nothing natural about his death. But that arsehole Burley's saying it was a self-administered overdose.'
âCapper told me this morning that all they're charging Jean Tanner with is possession of a Class A drug.'
I sighed. âI can't see why they don't at least charge her with the illegal disposal of a dead body. At this rate, we'll be lucky if she ends up with a fine.'
âMaybe we should try and talk to her.'
âMaybe.' I sipped my coffee, wishing there was something I could lean on her with. But what did I have that Neil Vamen didn't? There was no way I could put pressure on her and she'd know it. But in spite of everything, I'm an optimist, and that means I don't give up. I was just going to have to think of a way.
âAnyway, good work, Dave. You've done well.'
Berrin shrugged. âI'm not entirely useless, Sarge. I can do more than just routine enquiries, you know.'
I nodded. âYeah, I do know. I'll do a better job of keeping you in the loop in future.' He nodded, acknowledging the fact that I was indirectly apologizing, and I hoped we could leave it at that.
I picked up the phone and tried Malik's number. Amazingly enough, he actually answered, though he informed me he was in a hurry.
âThis Krys Holtz thing's turning into a nightmare,' he explained.
âHow come?'
âWell, no-one's co-operating, as usual. The family say they don't know what we're talking about and apparently Krys is fine, just not around at the moment, and now suddenly all the staff at the brothel are retracting their statements. Plus, we've got no intelligence on the ground as to who might be behind it.'
âI'm sorry to bother you, Asif, but did you find out anything about this company, Dagmar Holdings?'
âI haven't had time. I'll get something sorted for you by tomorrow, I promise. Have you tried Companies House for any information?'
âYes, I have. The company exists all right. They sent me pages of stuff but nothing that really tells me very much.'
âI'll see what I can come up with. Can you give me your mobile number again?'
I reeled it out and Malik said his goodbyes, saying he had to go.
I flicked off the phone and stared at the pile of accounts for Dagmar Holdings Ltd in my in-tray. I really needed to give them a closer look. I looked at my watch. Ten to twelve. It could wait until later.
âDo you fancy a drink and a bite to eat?' I asked Berrin.
He nodded and grinned. âI could do with both.'
âThen let's get out of here,' I said, and we got to our feet, once again leaving the Matthews incident room empty and silent.