Greed: A DI Scott Baker Novel (11 page)

After getting Cara a large Cabernet Sauvignon, they grabbed a table towards the back of the bar and sat opposite each other. He opted for the uncomfortable bar stool, whilst giving her the comfy seat against the wall.

“How’s the case going?”

“The term
slowly but surely
comes to mind. I’ve made some inroads, but I’m still missing the breakthrough. I know the victims knew each other. But why they were murdered still eludes me.”

She took of a large gulp, and breathed out a sigh of relaxation and closed her eyes for a brief second to relish the feeling of the wine hitting the spot.

“Is this one taxing you then?”

“Just a bit, I’ve had murder cases before, but multiple connected murders are new to me. The DCI’s been helpful, but it’s my case to solve.”

“So what’s your theory?”

“My hunch is that they got in over their heads with another drugs supplier, and paid the ultimate price. I can’t see another reason at the moment.”

“What’s the deal with the money in the mouth?” questioned Cara.

“Not sure, perhaps they stitched someone up or stole their money, and the killer left money to suggest that you can have my money but only when you’re dead,” Scott offered, shrugging and holding out his hands.

“That’s plausible,” she nodded. “But why not just kill them? Why leaving a calling card of some sorts? I think there’s more to it, personally.”

“True, but it’s early days yet, the investigation’s starting to get some traction, and with the fibre from the first victim matching someone who died three years ago, it opens up a different avenue for us. It could be connected or a pure coincidence.”

“So we going to talk shop all night?” Cara asked pretending to stifle a yawn.

“Erm, didn’t you suggest a drink to discuss theories?”

“Guilty, your honour,” She held up a hand in mock submission.

The conversation flowed comfortably between them about the places they’d visited, favorite foods and what they got up to in their spare time.

“Anyway, so tell me, why pathology? It’s a pretty grim role. Hardly a conversation starter at a party, and certainly no one to laugh at your lame jokes,” he asked whilst taking a swig of his beer.

She rolled her eyes. “My dad was a doctor, and mum was a nurse. They’re both retired now and live in London. I was always surrounded with medical stuff.

In my teens I was fascinated by weird stuff, like paranormal things, zombies and death. I remember absolutely loving dissections in my Biology A-level class. The mouse, the frog, the sheep’s eye…I was engrossed in them. People thought I was weird then, they probably still think that,” she laughed as she took a sip of wine, before carrying on without taking in air.

Scott was amazed at this woman’s ability to talk without a pause. It was nevertheless an enchanting side to her that he found refreshing.

“It just felt right to go into medicine and then specialise in pathology,” she reflected staring into empty space. “Then I moved from London to this post in Brighton a year ago,” she shrugged with a smile. “It certainly made the folks happy…how about you?”

“Well I just fell into the police I guess after university. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do. But it offered a career, and having been to a police recruitment evening, I soon realized that no two days would be the same and that meant variety. A desk job didn’t really appeal to me and the thought of trudging in on the tube to London everyday really put me off.”

“So why Brighton if you were in Essex?” Cara asked.

“I fell in love with Brighton when I was studying here. I loved the pace of life, the vibrancy of the town, the people, and I loved being by the sea. The caseload here is much easier to handle too than Essex and London.”

“Until now,” Cara interrupted.

“Until now,” Scott nodded in agreement. “Listen I’m going to have to shoot now, I’ve got to go over the case file this evening. Dull I know, but I need to,” he shrugged as he drank the remainder of his beer.

Cara looked a little disappointed, but accepted his reason, finishing her wine with a hefty glug.

“Well, it’s been a lovely evening. It’s great just getting out and having a drink and chat. We should do this again.”

“That would be great,” Scott acknowledged.

They said their goodbyes with a brief kiss on the cheek.

On his short drive home Scott reflected on what he’d been missing, and that was company. His life over the last few years had been a mixture of work, the gym, solitary time at home which he hated, and walking along the beach people watching. In fact Scott had to admit that he’d thrown himself into work just to keep his mind occupied. The alternative wasn’t worth considering. He only had one option, and that was to look forward because looking back was always painful.

Chapter 14

He was there again, watching it unfold in front of him. He was across the street waiting for them when it happened. He’d only turned his head for a moment, but that moment changed his life forever, extinguished the flame of contentment and happiness that had given him so much joy.

He was running, but his legs felt like they were stuck in quicksand, each step painfully slow, each second feeling like a minute. The scene unfolding in front of him like a movie on the big screen, Scott a spectator, powerless to change the outcome.

It was getting darker, the wind swirling around him, throwing up dust, making it harder to see the carnage. Scott fell to his knees crying, screaming, his eyes wide with horror and disbelief, his mouth unable to form any words. Spittle drooling from his mouth forming bubbles as he tried to breath.

Why?
He cried as he looked to the sky hoping for some divine explanation. Why, why, why? he screamed.

He sat up with an almighty hollering cry “NOOO!”

He looked around his dark bedroom trying to adjust to the blankness of the room, his heart pounding in his chest, his pulse thumping in his ears, his breathing laboured. It took a few moments to calm down and wipe the sweat from his forehead. He hated the nightmares, they left him exhausted, and in a place he didn’t want to go back to.

Unable to fall asleep again; his bedside clock brightly glowing out a 5.24 a.m., he decided to get up and make himself a coffee whilst watching the early morning Sky news. As he sat there, he went back over the nightmare once again. They were far more prevalent, disturbing and dark after he’d had a drink. He wondered if the booze relaxed him so much that his mind and body were unable to hold back or subdue the memories that he did so well to contain during consciousness.

***

Scott was in the briefing room shortly after 8 a.m., finishing a breakfast of mixed fruits and Greek yogurt whilst waiting for the rest of the team to arrive for the morning briefing. Raj and Sian were already there, with Mike trailing in apologetically last.

Scott perched on the end of the table.

“Morning ladies,” Scott started off, his opening comment met with the deliberate clearing of throats from Raj and Mike.

Scott smiled and carried on ignoring them in jest. “As I said, morning ladies, we’ve got work to do,” Raj and Mike shook their heads as they looked down at their notes.

“Where’s Abby, Mike?”

“Guv, she’s just on the phone to officers in Southampton, she’s been digging around in Fraser’s background. She’ll be joining us shortly.”

“Ok, well let’s carry on. We know that Stone and Fraser knew each other and we know that Fraser was giving Stone a lot of money, most likely in exchange for drugs. We also know that Stone was more than likely importing drugs through various channels. The high tech boys retrieved deleted web history relating to ferry timetables, landing strips and so on.

Sian I want you to go through the list of contacts on Stone’s phone, five numbers crop up the most, find out who they belong to. One of them must be his supplier.”

Sian nodded her agreement.

“Raj, I want you to get hold of the CCTV footage of both clubs for the last few weeks, let’s see if we can get Fraser in the frame or identify any contact between them, ok?”

“Yep.”

Mike raised his pen to get Scott’s attention as Scott got up to walk over to look out of the window.

“Guv, I’ve been chasing up a few contacts and asking about the Phoenix and Urban. Now I’m not sure how much truth there is in it, but a few said that Fraser was a main dealer and none of them had known of Stone dealing. If you wanted some gear, his clubs were the place to go and get them hassle free.”

There was a long silence whilst Scott stood there. The team were exchanging glances and raising eyebrows, almost having a telepathic conversation between themselves without a word being spoken.

The penny dropped for Scott and he spun around thumping his forehead with the palm of his hand.

“Fuck, bollocks, I think I’ve been looking at this from the wrong angle.”

“You’ve lost me, Guv.”

“Mike, Fraser is the main dealer. I reckon he was paying Stone a sweetener in return for peddling his shit in the clubs without any hassle. The regular payments make sense now.”

There was a general agreement around the room.

“But that doesn’t account for the seventy-six grand paid to Stone a few years ago.”

“Hang on, Guv,” Sian interrupted, quickly sifting through her notes. “Ok, how about this, Guv? Our investigations into Stone have already shown that he launched both clubs about five years ago. What if Fraser helped fund the clubs, and that seventy-six grand was his share of the business, the timing of the payment seems to correlate?”

“That plus regular payments in return for using the clubs for peddling his shit. Fraser was a silent partner, then.”

“Sounds about right, Guv.”

“And it was a lucrative set up, that someone else wanted to get in on, resulting in them both being taken out….good work, Sian.”

“Thanks, Guv.”

Scott was just about to carry on when Abby burst into the briefing room out of breath having bounded up the flight of stairs two steps at a time.

“Guv, sorry I’m late; I’ve just got off the phone to officers in Southampton. They were dealing with a case a while back involving Fraser. He was the victim of a shooting, looked like attempted murder.

They charged another known supplier by the name of Lee Stubbins and his brother Luke for the crime. Lee’s in Pentonville serving fourteen years, but his brother absconded from custody and was never captured. Lee’s a pretty big drug dealer in the South East, and trying to muscle in on the Brighton drugs scene. He already has operations in Bournemouth, Eastbourne, and Southampton.

Our colleagues in Southampton have intel that he wants greater control of the south coast supply and distribution chain.”

Scott rubbed his hands together, this felt promising. He just needed to find out who wanted it bad enough to kill them, and Stubbins might be wrapped up in this.

“Mike, once Raj has got the CCTV for both clubs, go through them and look for Fraser, also look for anyone going in the backdoor of both clubs. There may have been meetings with whoever wanted to muscle in. Can you cross check with records on file, latest intelligence on the movers and shakers in the drugs scene, and see what you can find? It’s likely we may have the killer captured on video.”

“Perhaps they refused to agree to a deal and well, we know the ending,” added Sian.

Scott was thinking hard. “It’s certainly worth exploring, and it’s all we’ve got at the moment. Let’s crack on and I’ll update the DCI later. We’ll have a briefing update tonight. In the meantime, Abby, you and I need to head to London to have a chat with Lee Stubbins. Can you phone ahead and inform the governor that we need to interview Stubbins.”

“Onto it now, Guv.”

Scott felt that today was going to be a productive day. Good progress had been made on the case and with the press appeals released; he knew that more pieces were going to be falling into place.

Chapter 15

The fifty minute train journey to London flew by. Abby pretty much fell asleep not long after the train had left Brighton, putting that down to a being up much of the night with her youngest who’d been unwell.

Scott had never really enjoyed train journeys, feeling restless particularly on long journeys. He spent his time between listening to some tracks on his phone, dozing for a few moments and running through the case in his mind as he watched the countryside breeze past him. He knew he was getting closer to a breakthrough, he just wasn’t sure in what form that would take.

Visiting Stubbins was a long shot, but if he tried to kill Fraser once, then he could have arranged for a second hit. That wouldn’t explain Stone being taken out. Scott wondered what the connection may be between Stone and Stubbins.

***

As they stood at the visitor’s entrance, Scott couldn’t help but admire the tall walls of this Victorian prison. The first big prison in London, it was now the subject of outdated facilities, extreme overcrowding, rat infestations and deemed not fit for purpose in recent reviews.

Scott had been to Pentonville on a few occasions. Like any visit by a police officer, it was often met with aggressive chanting from inmates and threats of sexual acts they were going to inflict on the officer’s loved ones. Scott knew the police had to be immune to such taunts.

The interview room was a solitary cold place, with white walls and grey floor. A ceiling strip light encased in a wire cage, a metal table and four chairs screwed to the floor with bars over a frosted glass window, all adding to the uninviting atmosphere. The room offered very little in terms of ammunition to be used if anything kicked off.

Scott and Abby sat side by side, they had agreed that Abby would lead and Scott would step in if needed.

The metal door opened and a short but muscular man walked in accompanied by two prison officers, who stood by the entrance once the door was shut, allowing Stubbins to seat himself.

Scott noticed how Stubbins shifted his eyes between the pair of them, but offered no hint of what he was thinking or feeling.

“I’m Detective Sergeant Trent and this is Detective Inspector Baker.”