Clean Cut (28 page)

‘Possibly. His mind is controlling him. He has been punished for something; we do not know what. He does not understand that he has been poisoned, not controlled by voodoo witchcraft.’

Langton looked at his watch. He asked if they could get some refreshments brought in for the doctor and his wife. He would need time to discuss the doctor’s prognosis with his team.

Langton slumped down in a leather chair; Mike Lewis rested on the arm of another.

Anna sat down opposite them. ‘We need to get permission from his brother to give him ECT. If he knows everything we’ve just been told, he might agree; unless he does, I doubt if we will be able to give the go ahead.’

Langton said brusquely, ‘Listen, if it could help, fuck getting any permission–we do it. The kid is dying.’

Anna sighed. ‘I know, but we need Idris Krasiniqe to help us. He will only do so if his brother is seen to
recover. If he’s not–and, judging by what we’ve been told, he won’t recover–then this is all a waste of time and money.’

‘You think I don’t know that?’ Langton snapped.

‘I am sure you do; all I am asking is, can I have time with Idris? If necessary, we bring in the doctor to talk to him. Maybe we hedge round the fact that it’s unlikely that Eamon can be saved, but if we give him hope…What did that boy do, to deserve to be poisoned like this? It had to be something big; maybe something connected to Camorra.’

Langton turned to Mike Lewis. ‘I want the names of everyone who visited Eamon Krasiniqe in the cells, at the police station, at his trial; anyone who could have got to him there, and in the prison.’

‘He had no visitors at the prison,’ Anna said.

‘Maybe he didn’t, but what about the bloke who held down Arthur Murphy? See who visited
him
. There has to be a link somewhere. If some bastard was controlling his mind through this poison, it had to have been fed to him. You heard what the doctor said: he’s got Christ knows many fucking needle pricks all over his body, so somebody was still doing it to him, right?’

Anna nodded. Langton was working himself up into such a temper. She tried to calm him down. ‘In the meantime, can I talk to Idris? Bring in the doctor if need be, yes?’

Langton nodded.

‘How long will we have him for?’ she wanted to know.

‘The doctor?’ Langton asked.

‘Yes.’

‘As long as we bloody need him. We can take him
back to the safe house and bring him back here again if necessary.’

Anna nodded and then gave a small smile. ‘I’ll go and talk to him.’

‘Fine by me. I just want a few words with Mike; you go ahead.’

Anna left the room.

There was a long pause. Finally, Langton sighed. ‘This is gonna cost me and I’m not just talking about the budget that’s gone through the roof.’ He leaned back in his chair. ‘Sometimes I feel as if I’ve lost my way. I think I have let this get out of hand.’

‘Not if we do get something.’

‘Come on, you saw the kid; he’s on his way out, and we’re pinning our hopes on the bastard who murdered that little hooker Carly Ann North. It doesn’t make any sense. I’d like to go in and beat the shit out of him–maybe that would get him to talk.’

‘Maybe it wouldn’t. He’s got fifteen years for murder; that’s not much incentive to give us any help.’

‘
She
seems to think he knows something.’

‘Anna?’

‘Yeah, Anna. A lot of this is down to her interview with him.’

‘I wondered about that. She just took off, did she?’

‘You could say that.’

‘So you never told her to talk to Idris Krasiniqe?’

‘Don’t go there, Mike.’

Lewis paused for a moment. ‘You mind me asking what happened between you two?’

Langton closed his eyes.

Mike hesitated, but continued. ‘One time, you seemed pretty close; you were living at her place, and she was
certainly taking good care of you. I used to see her either coming or going to the hospital, long schlep out there every day and night.’

Langton nodded.

‘So what happened?’

Langton shrugged his shoulders. ‘I’m not easy to live with.’

‘I would guess that. I’m sorry–she’s a good girl.’

Langton took a deep breath. ‘Look, we’d better get on to the station and see if they’ve come up with anything for us; might as well do something constructive. I also need some coffee–can you see if you can find the right corridor that’ll take you back to reception? They must have a canteen or something somewhere.’

‘Okay. You going to stay in here, or go back to the voodoo doc?’

‘I’ll stay here; make some calls.’

Mike nodded and walked out, leaving Langton sitting, dejected, in the chair.

Mike felt very concerned about his boss; in all the years he had worked with him, he had never seen him so lacklustre, and to hear him say he had lost his way really hit home. Langton had always driven each case they had worked on with total control. Sometimes, he had appeared to be too controlling, but now…

Mike looked up and down the empty corridor. He had no idea which way to go; he’d just been walking and not paying attention. He turned this way and that, then swore, deciding to retrace his steps. As he turned into yet another corridor, he saw Anna heading towards him.

‘I’m totally lost,’ he said, waving his arms.

‘Where are you going?’

‘To get some coffee for the boss; he’s sort of deflated.’

‘Where is he?’

‘Same room you left us in.’

‘I’ve asked the doctor to see Idris.’

‘Did you talk to him?’

‘Idris? I had a few words. I said I wanted him to know exactly what we knew and then I would talk to him later.’

Mike nodded and walked off, leaving Anna standing in the corridor. She looked around until she had her bearings, then headed back towards the anteroom. As she approached, she could hear Langton talking on his mobile. She quietly opened the door.

‘I’m not holding out much hope re this voodoo quack, but we do need to get every single visitor to both brothers checked out, plus the guy sharing Eamon’s cell, just to cover our tracks. It could have been in a hypodermic needle or powder, so check any food parcels, anything handed to our zombie whatsoever. Also, check out who had access to him during his trial, because somebody pumped this stuff into him; his body is like a pin cushion.’

Langton turned and gestured towards her, before continuing his call. ‘If Grace gets anything, call me; ditto forensics.’ He carried on firing off instructions, asking if Harry Blunt had come up with anything from the bus tickets, or whether Brandon had anything. By his long sigh, she could tell that there was obviously no new information. He cut off the call and turned towards her.

‘I talked to Idris and now the doctor’s with him,’ she said. ‘I told him to go through everything he spoke to us about.’

‘Well, that’ll take for ever, if the doc takes as long as he did to tell us. In the meantime, the kid is fading fast.’

‘There’s a one-way glass, if you want to sit in and listen.’

He nodded and then sat down, rubbing his knee. ‘I need some coffee.’

‘Mike’s sorting it,’ she said.

After a few minutes, he gripped the arms of the chair and stood up with a grimace, then had to sit down again, swearing.

‘Do you want me to ask if Esme has anything that might help the pain?’

‘Terrific, yeah. Gimme some of the poison, finish me off.’

‘What do you want me to do?’

‘Just give me a fucking few minutes,’ he shouted. Then he looked at her. ‘Sorry. I’m sorry–for a lot of things, Anna. It’s just I get so frustrated with this bloody knee. It freezes up and hurts like hell.’

‘I know. I wouldn’t dare suggest we ask for a walking frame–they may have one here.’

He glared at her.

‘I was joking! I know you’d never use one.’

‘I guess you do. Sorry again.’ He paused. ‘I know I have behaved like a real shit at times with you, and I want you to know, I don’t…I don’t ever mean half of it. I suppose I reckon that, knowing me so well, you can take it.’

‘Well, I try, but sometimes it hasn’t been easy.’

‘Come here.’

He lifted his hand towards her. She walked over and he held her tightly.

‘You are very special. I appreciate all you have done for me.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Okay, now give me a haul up, and let’s get cracking.’

She saw the pain etched across his face as she helped him stand. She was doubtful he would make it down all the corridors but as soon as they walked outside the room he moved ahead of her. He was limping but, as always, looked like he was in the lead.

Dr Salaam was indicating where the puncture marks had been discovered on his brother. Idris sat, expressionless, but listening intently. Anna switched on a speaker, so that they could hear what was being said.

‘They were also around his anal and genital area,’ the doctor said.

Idris shook his head. ‘So, is he going to live?’ His voice was very low and hardly audible.

Dr Salaam hesitated.

Idris leaned towards him. ‘I need to know:
is he going to live?
’

Langton pursed his lips, swearing under his breath; the last thing they wanted was for the doctor to say that there was no hope.

Anna reached over and touched his arm. ‘He knows not to say anything.’

Dr Salaam drew up a chair to be closer to Idris. ‘His heart is very weak.’

‘Can’t you operate?’ Idris interrupted; he was now speaking clearly.

‘It’s too late for that, but we are hopeful that if we give him ECT, it may jolt him back into consciousness.’

‘Shit, that’s those electrode things. I know about them: you plug them into fucking electricity.’

‘I would need your permission to do any kind of resuscitation.’

‘Listen, I’ll agree; but tell me what can happen if that don’t work?’

‘Idris, your brother is in a critical condition,’ the doctor said gravely. ‘He has refused all medical treatment that might have helped him. You have to understand that he is very sick. There is no antidote for this poison.’

‘So why do you want to put those electrode things on him?’

‘It might jolt him out of the terror inside his brain and give him some peace. He is a believer, isn’t he?’

‘You mean Christian?’

‘No, voodoo.’

Idris turned away.

‘Has he ever been involved with voodoo, or someone whom he believes has voodoo powers?’

Idris nodded slowly.

‘Do you need some time alone to think about what I have told you?’

Idris nodded again. Langton swore: the last thing he wanted was to give Idris any more time. The doctor tapped on the door and it was unlocked. Langton immediately walked out, leaving Anna alone in the viewing room.

Outside in the corridor, Langton conferred with Dr Salaam. He was not taking any crap from Idris. If there was any hope that Eamon could be jolted out of his coma, then the doctor had to do it; they were wasting time. The doctor insisted he confer with his wife, so they both headed back to the anteroom.

Anna watched Idris. He remained seated, staring ahead at the white wall, then he bowed his head and began to weep. Anna switched off the intercom and left the room. She went up to the officer guarding Idris and asked to be
allowed inside. When she walked in, he looked up, wiping his eyes with his cuff.

‘How you doing?’ she asked softly.

Idris gulped, trying to control his weeping.

‘We could have lied to you, but we felt it was imperative to be totally honest with you. Surely now you can see that someone has been slowly killing your brother? He has been suffering and must be in terrible pain, mentally and physically. So, if you have any idea who may have done this to him, tell us! Surely you’d want us to punish him?’

Idris wiped his eyes and whispered, ‘I’m scared.’

Anna reached out to hold his hand. ‘Talk to me, Idris–trust me.’

Anna hurried along the corridor and into the anteroom to find Dr Salaam passing Langton some tablets.

‘We’re going to do the ECT, permission or not,’ Langton said, swallowing the pills. He then turned with a smile to Esme. ‘You sure these aren’t the deadly nightshade?’

She smiled back and shook her head. ‘I am also going to make up a list of tablets and powders that’ll help you.’

Anna was impatient. ‘Listen, I think Idris is going to talk, but first he wants to be examined by Doctor Salaam. He’s terrified that someone could be feeding him the same poison. He has been segregated for weeks, he’s never gone on the recreational ward and he’s been paying for one of the kitchen staff to make his meals–those he eats in his cell–but he’s scared.’

Langton raised his eyes to the ceiling.

‘He called it Jimson weed,’ she said.

Dr Salaam said this nickname for
Datura stramonium
came from when it was used against the British soldiers in Jamestown, USA. It was sprinkled on their salads and a tincture of it was put into their drinks.

‘Well, thanks for the history lesson, Doc. Now please, go and have a look at him, and make it as fast as possible.’ Langton opened the door for the doctor; then checked his watch and followed him out.

Making sure they were out of earshot of the room, he lowered his voice. ‘Hold it one second: I want you to “find” some small trace of this Jimson weed in his system that you say can be cured. Feed him pills, if you have to; do anything you can to make it authentic, okay? We need something to scare the pants off him.’

Dr Salaam nodded and walked away, as Lewis arrived with coffee and some curling sandwiches.

Langton updated him as they both walked back into the room. ‘This is getting to be a farce. Every minute we lose, that kid could snuff it; now all his brother is worried about is that he’s got it as well.’

Lewis had obtained the list of visitors. The first to visit Eamon Krasiniqe after his arrest was Rashid Burry, now dead himself. The others they had not yet begun to question; Frank Brandon was checking out the addresses left with the prison’s visitor officers to see if any were authentic. They were also questioning Eamon’s legal team from his trial.

Langton fretted inwardly. This meant yet another run-around for the team; it was making their case spread, and look even more out of control.