Beautiful Death (29 page)

‘Have you ever —?’

‘No!’

Sarah straightened. ‘I was going to ask if you’d ever spoken to him.’

‘I’ve had no reason to.’

‘So he hasn’t been with any of the girls from around Amhurst Park?’

‘I can’t say … not to my knowledge, no.’

‘And Moshe Gluck?’

‘Once a week maybe. He likes me. Prefers only me.’

‘Are you always available for him?’

She nodded. ‘I try to be. We usually share a meal at Milo’s, some conversation.’ She shrugged. ‘He is no trouble. He is gentle and generous. Pays me twice whatever I ask. He’s also a family man. It wouldn’t be good for you to —’

‘Claudia, lives are at stake here. Perhaps even Aniela’s. I’m not interested in the fact that Mr Gluck makes use of your services — that’s his and your business. But he is a link to these deaths. More importantly, he might be able to help us find this ginger-haired man.’

Sarah’s phone rang. Glancing at the screen she noted it was the DCI. ‘Have to take this, excuse me.Sir, it’s Sarah,’ she answered.

‘It’s Jack. Katz is not at home, nowhere we can easily find him either. Have you had any luck?’

‘Possibly, sir.’ She explained about Aniela. ‘It could be coincidence.’

‘It may not.’

‘That’s how I’m viewing it, sir. I want to follow through. I have another name too. A Mr Moshe
Gluck. He’s quite close to one of the prostitutes up at Amhurst and he seems to have an office above Milo’s. I believe that’s the kosher café on the main parade there that forensics turned up the receipt from. All the girls use it, as do a lot of local Jewish people. Mr Gluck likes to hold meetings in the café. We have a witness who has seen them together.’

Jack sounded eager. ‘Yes, I’ve heard Katz does some work for Gluck. Who gave you this info?’

‘A Claudia Maric, sir, she’s one of the regulars who works the area.’ Sarah looked over at Claudia. ‘She’s been very helpful and I think the café could be a key link.’

‘It doesn’t seem to get us closer to the killer though, does it? My gut tells me that Schlimey Katz is one of the mules who gets paid to do his bidding. What about Gluck?’

‘According to Ms Maric he’s a businessman and family man. I know it’s not conclusive, sir, but her instincts suggest that he’s a long way from being a killer.’

‘A middle man perhaps. This is all just getting more and more complex. It feels as though we’re chasing a group, not a single perpetrator.’ Sarah had already begun thinking along these lines, but she remained silent. ‘Right, keep me informed. Good work, Sarah. Tell your friend from Vice I owe him a beer. I presume you’re wrapping up soon?’

‘I am, yes, sir.’

‘Good, then I’ll see you tomorrow. I have an appointment with the therapist tonight but I’ll be in first thing. Call me if you need to. Thanks again, Sarah.’

Sarah returned her attention to Claudia. ‘One
final thing. Have you ever seen Moshe Gluck or the red-haired man called Schlimey Katz speaking with someone they referred to as a doctor or as having a connection with a hospital?’

Claudia’s eyes widened as though in recognition, but she immediately shook her head. ‘Moshe never included me in any conversations. I was never introduced to any of his colleagues or associates. We never discussed his home life or his business. I don’t even know what he does for a living, although I can tell you he always has plenty of cash on him.’

Sarah had seen Claudia’s initial flare of interest. The woman knew more than she was telling, but she wasn’t going to reveal it tonight. Sarah imagined the prostitute would go home and think things over. Tomorrow, Sarah promised herself. By tomorrow, Claudia would talk. ‘Okay, Claudia, you’ve been extremely helpful.’

‘What happens now?’ she asked.

Sarah looked at Andy to take over.

‘I’ll see what I can do for you, Claudia.’

‘I meant about Aniela?’ the prostitute said, glaring.

Andy nodded. ‘Of course. I need a full description from you and I’ll put that out tonight and see if anyone across the police force has heard or seen anything.’

‘Do they care? She’s here illegally — one more hooker, one more gutter.’

Andy fixed her with a stare. ‘We’re all human, Claudia. And many of us have children — daughters — myself included. None of us are going to let a young girl fall into the wrong hands if we can prevent it, no matter what her status, colour, nationality — all right?’

She had the grace to look sheepish. ‘I’m sorry, I’m just not used to anyone bothering about us.’

Andy was already dictating closing details for the interview into the recording equipment, but Sarah watched as Claudia reached for a pen and notebook and began scribbling. As Andy turned off the recording, Claudia pushed the book towards him. ‘That’s the address she was going to. You have to promise me that in return for my help that you’ll look into that address.’

‘I’ll do that for you, Claudia, I promise,’ Sarah said, digging out a card from her pocket. ‘Here, this is where you can reach me. If you think of anything else at all, call me. What number can I reach you on?’

Claudia scowled slightly but gave Sarah the number. ‘It’s a mobile,’ she said unnecessarily. ‘And for obvious reasons I can’t always answer it.’

Sarah nodded, vaguely embarrassed by the woman’s comment. ‘I’ll be in touch. Andy, I’ll head off now. Thanks for everything. Claudia, thank you as well. I’m sure … well, I hope Aniela is safe and I’ll do my best for you regarding that. I also hope things work out for you.’ She didn’t really know what else to say. ‘I’ll make sure my report reflects how helpful you’ve been to our operation.’

Claudia looked at her sadly. ‘Doesn’t change anything much. But I have a little girl and nothing but her safety matters to me.’ She suddenly rocked forward, hugging herself and frowning. ‘If I’m deported what will happen to my child?’

This news shocked Sarah. ‘Who looks after her?’

‘I do, of course. She’s at a friend’s right now.’

Before Sarah could react, Andy put his hand up. ‘I’m onto it. I’ll get Claudia home myself if I have to. And don’t worry, I won’t be sending you anywhere
at the moment, Claudia. We’ll work something out, although I can’t say the same for your colleagues. You carry on, Sarah. We’ll finish things up here.’

Sarah was pleased to escape Claudia’s grim existence. She suddenly felt that her fairly lonely life that took much of its joy from her work in the police force seemed altogether sparkly by comparison. She couldn’t wait to get home to her cat at Strawberry Fields and close the door on the outside world.

23.

Kate had made good time back into London and had even managed to battle through the local supermarket at record speed. She was planning lamb chops that she’d dunk into a spicy marinade she would quickly crush up with the mortar and pestle, and then just as Geoff arrived she’d throw them under the grill. With them she’d serve a sweet-potato mash given some zing with spring onions fried lightly in butter and chilli. A peppery rocket salad with pine nuts, beetroot and feta would round off the meal. It sounded colourful and scrumptious to her and would come together really fast once the sweet potato had its chance to cook and that would take about fifteen minutes. Who could ask for more on a working night? She’d grabbed a breezy New Zealand sauvignon blanc to go with dinner and, rather than stressing over dessert, she’d remembered a bottle of sticky wine she had in the fridge that she would serve with some dark chocolate, figs and whatever else she could lay her hands on that could
come conveniently out of a box or packet. She couldn’t drink much tonight because tomorrow would be an early morning and a big day. Nevertheless she smiled as she kicked open the door, lugging in her shopping — suddenly she was really looking forward to seeing Geoff and having some male company.

She was busting to get to the loo and ran upstairs immediately. Afterwards, she changed into a pair of cargo pants and a sweater, dragged all the gear into the small kitchen, turned on some music, poured herself a lime and soda — in a wine glass to treat herself — and set to preparing the fat lamb chops for marinating.

She’d just finished basting the meat with the delicious smelling paste she’d smashed up — its garlicky chilli fragrance tantalising her tastebuds — when she heard an odd sound. She frowned, took a sip of her soda and turned down the music to listen again. Was Geoff here? Couldn’t be. She couldn’t hear anything now. By habit she checked her mobile for messages, found none, and on a whim tapped a text message to Geoff — barely looking at the keys, knowing her way around them instinctively. She checked the tenderness of the potatoes as she compiled the message.
Come earlier if you want. Wine chilled, lamb chops ready to roll and I’m famished
! She smiled, imagining what he might read into the final couple of words. The innuendo was not intentional but she decided to send it anyway because she was feeling uncharacteristically carefree this evening.

As she hit the button to send it, she heard a soft creak. This time all her instincts went onto full alert. She had no pets and there was absolutely no reason for her steps to creak unless someone was on them.
She could even guess which step it was. The third from the bottom.

She slipped the mobile into her pocket and strode out into the hall to look up the darkened stairway. She was stunned to see a figure looming above her.

‘Kate, is it?’

‘Who the hell —’

Before Kate could say another word or react in the way her training had taught her, he was upon her, large and strong, clamping something over her face that smelled of hideous chemical fumes.

‘Go ahead, struggle, it only makes it work faster,’ he said near her ear.

Kate felt herself blanking out; the world was turning dark and stupidly all she could think of was that her potatoes would boil dry and that the ginger-haired intruder wouldn’t bother to turn them off.

In the end they’d decided to ring the Lubavitch Foundation and Jack listened as Bob Harrison spoke to whoever had answered the phone.

‘And when was the last time you saw Mr Katz?’ he was asking as Jack stood nearby, sharing a look of disappointment with Malik. ‘I see. When is he next due in?’ He paused. ‘Tomorrow? That’s good. Around 1 p.m. you say. Thank you, Mr Ruben, you’ve been extremely helpful. No, no, it’s just a routine enquiry that Mr Katz might be able to help us with. Thank you again. Yes, thank you, we have it.’

Harrison put the phone down. ‘Not been sighted for two days. He sent a text to say he wouldn’t be in. no explanation given. He’s due in tomorrow. He apparently drives some of the schoolchildren from the Stamford Hill neighbourhood to various activities.’

‘Do you think he’s gone to ground, sir?’ Malik asked.

Jack scratched his ear. ‘Hard to tell. If so, someone’s tipped him off … but who? I’ve only had his description for a couple of hours. No one but us knew about that.’

‘The Goldmans?’ Malik suggested.

Jack looked doubtful. ‘Possibly … but not directly. I imagine. Goldman would have contacted Gluck if he was going to tell anyone. He told me that if Katz was involved in murder, he hoped we’d find him before his own people did. However, most of them wouldn’t know a lot of what’s happening outside the community.’

Harrison’s expression told Jack he agreed. ‘The Hasidic community doesn’t like any interference from outside — that means newspapers, phones, TV, internet, anything that presents the outside world.’

Malik looked taken aback. ‘No TV? Blimey, what about mobiles?’

Harrison shook his head. ‘I know some of the younger men carry them, but even so, it’s still quite furtive. Business is conducted mainly face to face. There will be phones at offices and places of business, of course, but it’s rare to find one in a private home.’

Jack frowned. ‘I went straight to Katz’s house from the Goldmans’ place. That took probably eight minutes. There’s no way Goldman could have found Katz on foot and tipped him off. He could have used a phone … he’s not Hasidic — but would Katz have one? I don’t doubt Goldman would want to speak with his associates as soon as possible to warn them that the police are nosing about their community. It’s only natural, I don’t blame him.’

Harrison shrugged. ‘No one else knew you were looking for Katz?’

‘My team,’ Jack admitted. ‘And Paul Knowles, the coach at the rowing club knew, although I’m not sure exactly what he heard — he certainly hadn’t heard Katz’s name as I didn’t know it till Goldman told me. I can’t rule Knowles out but my gut tells me he’s not involved. The boys at the club, of course, heard Yuri’s story, but again, how would they know who to speak with and to move so fast? I watched them all push off down the river for a kayaking session — they were nowhere near home and only two live in the neighbourhood — one of them was young Yuri who gave me the information in the first place.’ Jack bit his lip. ‘No, it doesn’t add up. If Katz has gone to ground, it’s someone I’m not seeing in this whole scenario who has given him the tip-off.’

‘So what would you like us to do from here?’

Harrison asked.

‘Can your team keep an eye on the Katz house, and perhaps all the usual haunts — the synagogue, the Lubavitch building, local kosher places? And anywhere else you think he could turn up?’

Harrison nodded. ‘Yes, of course.’

‘I can organise more manpower if you need.’

‘So can I, don’t worry. Everyone wants this killer caught. People will even volunteer their nights off.’

‘Okay, thanks.’ Jack glanced at his watch. ‘Er, I don’t know what else we can achieve tonight. We have to be patient and give it until at least tomorrow and if he hasn’t turned up by then we can probably assume it’s suspicious enough to alert police nationally.’

‘Right,’ Harrison said, ‘although we might put something out through the boroughs tonight.’

‘Great,’ Jack agreed. ‘One final item, do you know of a Moshe Gluck?’

Harrison nodded. ‘I do. Big businessman in the Hasidic community. Well liked and respected. Large family — I think something in the order of nine or ten children. Lives up on Lingwood Road and runs an office above Milo’s on Amhurst Parade, although I suspect that’s not his only office.’

‘What does he do?’

‘All sorts from my understanding. I think he’s into property, which is standard stuff for the Jewish community. Beyond that, probably everything from importing Jewish hats to dealing in diamonds.’

‘Diamonds?’ Jack couldn’t hide his astonishment.

‘Yes, these people like to carry their money. Diamonds are small, easy to carry, easy to move around, even easier to liquidate and use as cash. Easier to hide than money.’

‘I had no idea,’ Jack admitted. ‘Where do the stones come from? I mean, I know they’re likely to be mined in southern Africa, but how do they find their way into Moshe Gluck’s hands?’

‘South African, you’re right,’ Harrison said. ‘And they’re usually moved through Hatton Garden. Britain’s central district for jewellery as you know, onward through Europe.’ He shrugged. ‘It’s just the Jewish community’s preferred currency. We like paper, they like sparkles.’

‘And there’s nothing illegal going on?’ Disbelief laced Jack’s tone.

‘Oh, I didn’t say that, DCI Hawksworth,’ Harrison said, tapping his nose. ‘We just don’t see it. Whatever’s illegal is pretty invisible. Diamonds exchange hands for goods or services.’ He shrugged. ‘As I said, very easy to work with.’

It gave Jack pause for thought. This case was certainly taking an unexpected spiral; the more he discovered, the more twisted it became and the further from reach the answers seemed. And yet all he wanted was to look at the face of the man who took Lily’s life, and to know he was going to deny him his freedom. He wanted to put him behind bars for life. And Jack didn’t care whether it was Moshe Gluck, Schlimey Katz, Jimmy Chan or even Mr Goldman. He simply wanted someone to pay for killing a mother and her unborn baby. He secretly didn’t care why they had done what they’d done, or what the intricacies of their lives were. It didn’t matter, didn’t fascinate him as other cases did, didn’t register as even vaguely important. He wanted revenge. Geoff and Jane Brooks were right.

Without his permission his mouth seemingly decided to voice what was perhaps subsconsciously going on in his mind. ‘If I find out that this is about fucking precious stones, I’ll kill the bastard with my bare hands,’ he growled.

‘It won’t be,’ Harrison assured him, ‘but if Katz or Gluck or both are involved, then I’ll bet my big nose that diamonds are involved somewhere down the line.’

Jack had to stifle another growl. ‘Thanks, Bob, and to all the team here. Call me if anything breaks.’ He turned to his constable. ‘Let’s go, Mal. We’ve a big day tomorrow. Go home and get some rest.’

‘Will do,’ Mal said, giving Jack a sympathetic smile. ‘Take your own advice, boss, and call it a day.’

When Kate emerged from the haze into consciousness she found herself bound and lying in
the back of an estate car, as far as she could tell. She had been dribbling; her thirst was fierce.

‘I need water,’ she croaked towards the driver, although she couldn’t see him from her prone position.

‘Not long now,’ said the eerily familiar voice from the front. ‘We’re almost there in fact.’

‘Where?’

‘You’ll see.’

‘What do you want from me?’ she asked, her voice breaking on the last word. Being kidnapped felt utterly ridiculous on a Tuesday evening in Stoke Newington when chops were marinating and Coldplay was telling her everything was yellow.

He didn’t answer.

‘I’m a senior police officer and I asked you what you want from me,’ she demanded, feeling fresh flutterings of fear.

‘Silence would do for now.’

‘What? Who are you?’ She remembered now, the red ringlets, the pale, long face, the dark clothes, and most of all, the caricature-style eyebrows.

‘It’s irrelevant who I am. I’m just doing a job. I deliver you, that’s all.’

‘Deliver me? What are you talking about? Who to?’

His pause was nerve-racking. ‘To the surgeon,’ he said.

Moshe Gluck made the call. ‘The delivery is on its way.’

‘Excellent,’ said the voice on the other end.

‘Give my driver the diamonds.’

‘Do you trust him, Moshe? It’s rather a large amount this time.’

‘I trust him. This is the last one, you know that. The police are too close now. As it is I’m having to send Katz away and our friend who does all the spotting for us must also go. Your work has disrupted our lives significantly.’

‘And you’re all a lot richer for it,’ the voice said calmly. ‘Especially you, Moshe.’

‘True. But now it must end.’

‘Yes, I do agree. You will not hear from me again. Nice doing business with you, Gluck.’

‘Likewise. Which of us must stop seeing Claudia?’

‘You, I think. You’re married. Sadly, I’m not and my fiancée … well, let’s just say I need Claudia and her tricks.’

Moshe sighed. ‘I’ll miss her, but she connects us and I cannot have that. May I suggest we both stop using her?’

‘I think, Moshe, that Claudia should be sent away.’

Moshe blinked. ‘Are you talking about killing her?’

‘She’s a liability, my friend. I think you have to be realistic. Don’t worry, I won’t make you responsible. Prostitutes surely die all the time — from an overdose, a bashing, bad habits, bad luck.’

Moshe felt his throat close with horror. ‘You are one cold, ruthless bastard, you know that?’

‘So they tell me,’ the man said, sounding bored. ‘Goodbye, Moshe. Enjoy your riches and look after that big family of yours.’

He heard the threat, sucked back his fear as the line went dead. Within seconds he was dialling another number.

‘Yes?’

‘Change of plan.’

‘All right.’

‘When you’ve delivered the policewoman, I want you to go find Claudia. Tonight, Schlimey, waste no time!’

‘What about the flight?’

‘I’ll get you out on the morning flight, don’t worry. Do this for me.’

‘Do I just wait around for her at Amhurst Park?’

‘No, I’ll text her address. She rarely works past 9 p.m. Get her away from there.’

‘Where to?’

‘Anywhere — check into a motel near the airport. I’ll call you later. I need to think. And Schlimey …’

‘Yes?’

‘Tell him nothing. If he asks if you’ve heard from me, you haven’t, all right?’

‘Okay.’

‘Get away as soon as he gives you the payment.’

Jack stood outside Dr Brooks’s office and rang the buzzer. He felt suddenly low and beaten. He wasn’t sure talking was the answer right now; what he needed was a drink and a good night’s sleep.

‘Hello?’ came the now familiar voice through the speaker.

‘It’s Hawksworth.’