Torment (28 page)

As Strong walked back into the CID Room, Ormerod began to report, “From what Kath Milner told me outside, they’re both pretty scared. When she was alone with them they weren’t talking much to each other but when they did, obviously it was in Estonian. From their mannerisms and body language, they seem dazed by their situation, they don’t know what will happen next. The blonde one, Nadia, seems the most upset. She was tearful and Katerina was trying to console her. They did get animated at one point, Kath said. That was when they mentioned Mirczack’s name a couple of times.”  

“How did you get on with them?” Strong asked.

“I took it gently. I think it helped having Kath there as you suggested guv. They confirmed Lyudmyla’s story that on the Thursday in question, Szymanski changed their night off and took them in. Helena had been on the scene for about three months. She seemed close to Szymanski but that had cooled about two weeks ago, around three or four days before she was last seen.”

“What about other girls and other houses?”

“They claim to know nothing. Never seen anyone who might work different days to them and have never heard of another house. Seems like Szymanski and Mirzcack kept the two teams completely separate,”

“What about Baker? Did they recognise his photo?”

“Yep. Said he was a regular with Mariana, I mean Lyudmyla. But something else, they said he would often be in conversation with Szymanski. It didn’t seem to be just small talk type of chat. Sometimes they were discussing things intensely. Baker seemed uncomfortable at times, they thought. Quite observant, those two.”

“Did you bring up the subject of the parties at the house?”

“Briefly. They coloured up when I mentioned them. Seemed nervous and embarrassed.”

“Did they say who organised them?”

“Mirczack.”

Stainmore appeared at the door at that point. “Guv, I think you might want to hear this,” she said.

“Lyudmyla?” Strong enquired.

Stainmore nodded and disappeared back into the corridor.

“You’d best start getting formal statements from those two,” Strong said to Ormerod as he picked up a notebook and made to follow Stainmore out into the corridor. “Gently does it. They may be hungry too.”

“Right.”

Strong hesitated at the door. “Oh, nearly forgot with all this going on, Luke, but any news on that other Misper, Maria Brownlow, the streetwalker from the market place?”

“Nothing, guv. I’ve been over to the CCTV centre to see if we could get better stills from the cameras but nothing that would allow us to zoom in on the van’s number plate or get a better shot of the driver.”

Strong left and followed Stainmore down to the Ground Floor Interview Room. “She was talking a bit more about Baker,” she said. “Turns out she knew quite a lot about him.”

Lyudmyla was smoking a cigarette when Stainmore returned to the room with her boss.

“You shouldn’t be doing that in here,” Stainmore told her, looking at the female uniformed constable.

“I did tell her,” the constable said.

“Don’t worry about it.” Strong looked to the ceiling then took a seat. “There’s no smoke detector in here.”

Stainmore sat down at the table. “Lyudmyla,” she said, “you remember DCI Strong from earlier this afternoon?” The girl nodded. “Can you run through what you just told me, for Mr Strong’s benefit?”

“Sure.” She blew out smoke then dropped her cigarette into one of the polystyrene cups on the table. It hissed as it was extinguished by the coffee dregs. “Chris, he comes to see me, first time, three maybe four months ago. He was very nice, not like some of the men. He also use his real name. Not many do, I think. But also we talk about his work. He tells me he works for big insurance company. A bit later, Szymanski, he talks about his car insurance to be renewed. I tell him Chris works here and maybe he might get a good deal. That’s what starts all this.”

“Go on,” Strong encouraged, jotting down a few notes.

“I don’t know details but I think Szymanski gets information from him. Mirczack then wants to know from Szymanski.”

“What sort of information?”

“I can’t be sure but I think they blackmail him for names and addresses. I think to do with cars. They say they know where he lives and they will tell his wife he comes to Sensations if he don’t tell them.”

“So Mirczack is pressurising Szymanski to get information from Chris. From his work you think?”

“Yes.”

“When was the last time this happened?”

Lyudmyla furrowed her brows as if in thought for a few seconds then said, “That week when we see Helena for the last time. He came in that night, the Tuesday, I tell you about when Szymanski bring her in. Chris came in that night also. He give Szymanski a piece of paper with some writing. He’d gone when Mirczack came later. I told you they had big argument – Szymanski, Mirczack and Helena.”

Strong looked at Stainmore who nodded confirmation before he turned back to the girl. “Do you think this argument was something to do with Chris?”

She shrugged. “Maybe. I tell you I could not hear.”

Strong leaned back in his seat and studied the girl. “Lyudmyla, how did you come to be here?”

“You mean here,” she pointed to the table. “Or in this country?”

“In Yorkshire.”

She looked all round as if avoiding any eye contact then reached into her jacket pocket. Pulling out her cigarettes, she looked enquiringly at Strong.

“You’re not supposed to but … go on,” he said.

She lit up and blew the first drag fiercely away. “I come through agency in Vilnius. They say for 5,000 Litai, that’s about £1,000, they can get me visa and job in UK. I can come to work as waitress to start. I can pay back over time. I want to make a good future for myself. I think I cannot do that in Lithuania. But when I come I’m told I have to work to pay for the rest of the fee. I say, ‘what rest of fee?’ and they say I owe another 5,000 Litai. They take my passport and put me in house in London. They bring men to house and say if I don’t satisfy them, they will harm my family in Estonia. I say I have no family, so they say they will kill me.”

“So they forced you to have sex with these men against your will?”

She flicked her ash into the polystyrene cup. “Yes.”

“So how did you get from London to Leeds?”

“Mirczack. He come one day, not to have sex, he come to look at the girls. I think he choose me because next day, Szymanski drive me to Leeds.”

“How long ago was this?”

“About six months.”

Strong made some more notes then resumed, “You mentioned parties at the house. Can you tell me about them?”

“Sometimes Mirczack bring men to the house. Sometimes one but mostly two or three.”

“Are they different every time?”

“Mostly. But once or twice I recognise one from before.”

“Any from those who visit Sweet Sensations?”

“No, never.”

“Are these men from this country, do you think, or are they from abroad?”

“Mostly English, I think.”

“These ‘parties’, they involved Nadia and Katerina too?”

“Always.”

“And they took place in the ground floor room you showed DS Stainmore?”

“Yes.”

“And only girls from the house, or did they ever bring in girls from outside?”

“Only us,” she confirmed.

“You also mentioned a locked room in the basement. What can you tell us about that?”

She looked puzzled and shook her head. “Nothing. I have never been there. It is always locked.”

Strong paused and looked to Stainmore then back to the girl. “What would you like to happen to you now, Lyudmyla?”

“I would like to be free. I like to stay here but to work at a proper job, not this.”

He nodded. “What I’d like you to do is to give a formal statement to DS Stainmore here, just covering all we’ve spoken about. Is that okay?”

“Will you help me?” she asked looking from Strong to Stainmore and back again.

“I’ll do what I can for you.” He stood and picked up his notepad. “You must be hungry?”

She nodded.

He then turned to Stainmore. “Can you sort something out, Kelly?” He turned and left the room.

Strong rubbed his eyes as he sat in his office and considered the events of the day. It had been fast moving. Flynn had backed his decision to hold Szymanski overnight to see what the search and forensic teams discover at Luxor Grove. The girls had been fed and were being made as comfortable as possible in the soft interview suite which was kept for dealing with children, rape and other vulnerable victims. Nothing they’d found out so far could shed any light on the second house and other girls. Tomorrow, he hoped something would materialise from Luxor Grove, plus he had the briefing at Pontefract with the Meadow Woods Farm Murder Team.

He was just about to put his jacket on when his mobile rang. Bob.

“Hello, mate,” Strong said.

“Still there?”

“Just about to leave.”

“Good. See you in The Redoubt in fifteen minutes.”

“I don’t know, I’m feeling a bit …”

“Like you need a pint?”
Souter interrupted.
“Fifteen minutes. See you.”
And the line went dead.
 

49

It was ten past eight when Strong pulled into the car park at the side of The Redoubt. The other elevation proudly announced that this was the start of the famous Westgate Run – a line of pubs along Westgate leading into the city. The aroma from St. Michael’s Fish and Chip shop over the road reminded him he hadn’t had much to eat all day. He entered through the side door by the toilets and cast glances into the two rooms at the back of the pub. Moving through to the bar, he found Souter already there, a pint of Tetley’s ready for him.

“What a day,” Strong said.

“Big developments then?” Souter took a pull on his pint.

“Yes and no.” Strong lifted his beer. “Come on, let’s sit down.”

“They’re in the middle of a quiz night in here.”

Strong rolled his eyes. “Great. That’s all I need.”

They walked towards one of the back rooms and stood in the doorway. To the left, a group of three women and two men were huddled around their answer sheet on the table. To their right, two seriously overweight men were chatting and opposite them another group of two men and two women were drinking and talking. Just as Strong was about to walk to the far end and sit down, the landlord made another announcement over the PA. “The next round is a music round. Question eleven; what was the name of Elvis Presley’s backing band? The name of Elvis Presley’s backing band,” he repeated slowly.

Strong hesitated. A blonde woman in the group of five, in a stage whisper offered her suggestion to the rest of her group. “Was it The Tourettes?” she said.

As one, the rest of her friends, as well as the two men at the adjacent table turned on her. “No it fucking well wasn’t!” they exclaimed, then burst into laughter.

Souter nearly spilt his pint and Strong had to turn away.

“Let’s have a look in the front,” Strong suggested, a broad smile on his face.

As they passed the bar, the landlord, microphone in hand, looked puzzled. “No fuckin’ idea why that question was so amusing,” he said.

The snug was empty, apart from a middle-aged couple sitting on bar stools, leaning against the counter with a half of bitter and a glass of white wine in front of them. They nodded as Strong and Souter entered and sat down at a table in the corner.

“So what’s been happening today especially that’s made you feel so knackered then?” Souter asked.

Strong shook his head. “You know, looking back, this morning seems a long way off now.” Souter waited for his friend to carry on. “I only wanted to speak to a suspect and we end up bringing him into custody, along with the three Eastern European women he’s had working for him in a dodgy massage parlour. That’ll mean Immigration will get involved … no doubt, Inland Revenue … Times like these, I could do with a cigar.”

Souter chuckled. “How long now?”

“Three weeks, five days and …” he glanced at his watch. “Twenty-two minutes.”

“Good man.” Souter took a drink from his glass. “Is this massage parlour business connected with your Albanian girl?”

Strong leaned back in the seat. “Yes. And the guy I brought in was her supposed boyfriend.”

“A serious suspect?”

“Not sure. There are other parties involved. At the moment I need some hard evidence, which I haven’t got.”

“What about these other two herberts you’ve been looking for? Any joy tracking them down? Who was it now … Baker and Chapman?”

Strong put his head back and closed his eyes for a few seconds. “Disappeared off the face of the earth.”

Souter was even more impressed with Sammy. If the police were struggling to track down this mystery cousin but she had at least narrowed the field, he wasn’t going to pass that on. “Talking of disappearances, have you got anything for me on Maria? Sammy’s bound to ask.”

“She still lodging with you?”

“No, she’s staying at Allison’s.”

Strong shook his head. “You found yourself a diamond there, mate.”

“I know. It was a bit awkward at first when she found out I’d let her stay at mine for a night but … we’re solid.”

“I’m glad for you. But no, nothing on your Misper. I asked the officer in charge today. He’d been back to see Gazza I think, but he doubts he could get any better images of the van.”

The sirens of an ambulance disturbed the conversation and Souter followed the flashing blue lights’ refraction through the pub window as it passed by. “It doesn’t look good, does it?” he said, after a brief pause. “I mean, it’s been too long. I know you get these girls moving on, drifting through life, but when Sammy tells me how close they were … she would have been in contact with her somehow.” He looked at Strong who nodded understandingly. Souter finished his beer. “One more?”

“I’ll get these,” Strong said and got to his feet. “I’ll only have a half, I’m driving and I haven’t had anything to eat since a sandwich at lunch time.”

At the bar, Strong was served by a pimply youth of about twenty. He bought a couple of bags of crisps, a pint of Timothy Taylor Landlord for Souter and a half of Tetley for himself. He also learnt that the answer to question eleven was The Jordanaires.