Greed: A DI Scott Baker Novel (6 page)

“Morning Constable, anything to report?” Scott asked.

“No sir. Nothing more than curious onlookers asking a few questions,” replied the officer. PC Oju was an imposing figure, almost as tall as Scott, but a lot more slender, with dark afro-Caribbean features that offset his bright smile.

As Scott waited for Abby to arrive, his phone sprang into life heralding the arrival of an email as it vibrated against his chest. Scott reached in to grab it from his inside jacket pocket, and then proceeded to duplicate the elaborate security swipe pattern he’d created to unlock the phone.

“For fuck’s sake,” on the third attempt, he finally unlocked the phone and made a mental note of finding an easier way to lock it.

The email was from Matt Allan.

Hi Scott, I’ve got my team still pouring over the evidence collected. However, we’ve found good fingerprints on the blood-stained twenty pound notes and these will be analysed and cross referenced later today. We’ve also sent the victim’s mobile phone on to the high tech unit for analysis. All results will be with you in the next 24-48 hours. Speak soon, Matt.

Scott felt encouraged by the news, but nevertheless cautious. He knew that the identification of prints could lead to nothing, but there was always hope of an early breakthrough either with a match, or from the phone records.

As he looked down the street to the seafront, he saw Abby finishing off her discussion with Sian, before leaving her to carry out further door-to-door enquiries with local residents and traders.

***

Scott and Abby were greeted by the smell of stale beer and mustiness from the lack of ventilation and natural light. The club itself was well proportioned, even though it led Abby to comment that her living room floor had more space than the dance floor area she stood on.

“What happened to the days of a nightclub actually looking like a proper club, with a big dance floor?” Abby said with amusement.

The club looked more like an informal first-class lounge in an airport; it was wide but not very deep. To the left was a bar with the usual spread of alcoholic bottles on the back shelves of a mirrored wall, with the bar itself an all glass and mirror affair. It was decorated in gaudy purple and blue neon lights that no doubt emanated that ghastly neon glow from every inch of it.

In the middle was a small black marble dance floor, and that was a being generous, which no doubt saw very little action judging by how shiny and clean it looked.

To the right and taking up at least two thirds of the nightclub, were eight sets of purple sofas set around small white, round tables. Each table and sofa had embedded lights in them which gave out a soft, white glow.

As Scott looked around, there was nothing to suggest that the events of the night would end the way they did. Everything appeared to be where it should have been, nothing was broken or damaged and there was clearly no evidence of an altercation within the club that could have then been settled outside.

“I know, can you imagine the electricity bill?” Scott replied with a laugh and a dismissive shake of his head.

Scott recalled his university days, heading off to the Escape and Gloucester nightclubs where he spent the best part of a night bumping into other revellers, a problem that became worse as the night wore on. A combination of no air conditioning, overcrowding, cheap drinks and condensation dripping off the ceilings all added to the underground feel.
The good old days,
he thought as he smiled.

“You’d hardly see a club like this, never in my day, eh?”

“Nor mine,” agreed Abby.

Stone’s office was towards the back of the club and carried on the tacky high class feel the club attempted to portray. It had plush, navy carpets, ornate tall plants, a bank of monitors allowing the owner to survey his domain, and a dark mahogany desk and leather chair which took centre stage in the room.

Scott and Abby wandered off in different directions as they started to look through his desk drawers and the various assortment of paperwork left behind.

The search of his desk threw up nothing of importance, but all the paperwork, a laptop, files and folders were bagged up and recorded for review back at the station. As they moved their attention away from his desk, Abby found a safe buried into the wall behind some garish wall art.

“Guv, there’s a safe here, but it’s locked. We need to get this opened.”

“Get onto control and ask them to arrange for a locksmith to attend, we need to see if there’s anything inside of interest.”

With that, Abby left the room to make the call outside.

As Scott moved around the office he attention turned back to the corner of the room behind the door, and a squat mirrored table set in-between two low armchairs. Moving towards the table for a closer look, he noticed that the dust wasn’t the type that had collected through a lack of cleaning. He could clearly see a light sporadic scattering of white granular powder. If his hunch was right then this was the remains of a class A substance.

***

Abby was just coming off the call when Scott approached her, tapping her on the arm to get her attention.

“Yes, Guv?”

“Organise a dog, we’ve got some evidence of class A activity on the small table in the office. Meet me outside when you’re done.”

***

Phone reception must have been intermittent in the club, because no sooner had Scott stepped outside onto the pavement, his phone buzzed in his pocket to signal a missed call and text message from Raj.

Scott hit the redial and on the third ring, he answered.

“Guv, we’ve searched Stone’s flat and found a black holdall at the bottom of a wardrobe in the third bedroom. Inside there’s a few large fuck off packets of white powder we believe to be class A. We’ve bagged it up and will bring it in. His missus swears blindly that she knew nothing about it.”

“Do you believe her?”

“Hard to say Guv, she looks mortified, but she could be putting it on.”

“Ok Raj, good work, let’s get it tested first and once we have confirmation, we can pull her in for further questioning if needed.”

The expectancy rose in Scott. His team now had something to work with.

Scott relayed the news to Abby as they walked down to the seafront to visit Stone’s second club Urban on the seafront.

The search of the second club didn’t throw up anything that raised suspicion. All paperwork on the desk had been bagged up and logged in the same way as the Phoenix. They did however notice a strong smell of cannabis in the toilets and Scott instructed Abby to get the drugs dog to check both clubs.

***

Scott had suggested that they grab an early lunch so they headed off to one of Scott’s favorites, All’Angolo in East Street.

Scott tucked into a tuna melt panini, whilst Abby picked at her spicy halloumi & roasted vegetable salad.

“You going to be able to head off to the gym later today?” he asked.

“Depends how we get on today, Guv. I’ve not had a chance for a few days as I had the kids this weekend. If I can’t today, then I’ll go tomorrow morning and do a couple of classes before my shift starts at two.”

Scott raised his eyebrows and shook his head, whilst using his napkin to wipe his mouth. “Flipping hell, I just don’t know where you get the energy. One class is enough, but you do two or three classes in a row. You’re either a machine or have a screw loose,” he replied in bewilderment.

“Oi watch it. No, it’s fine. You wouldn’t make it through circuits, you lightweight.”

“Erm, you’ll find that I can give you a run for your money.”

“Dream on,” laughed Abby as she tossed her head back in an exaggerated mock look of surprise. “Besides it’s my release. You know how tough our job can be. Look at last week, when we got called in to go after that armed burglar with the TDA. I came on shift at 2 p.m. on Tuesday, and finished at 1 p.m. Wednesday because we needed to get him caught, charged, off the streets and the file to CPS within twenty-four hours. I was shattered and it took me two days to get my body clock back in line.

Going to the gym helps my mind to relax. I must admit though, it’s a tough call. Sometimes even though I want to go to the gym, I also want to be at home with the kids. I don’t see them enough as it is, and I hate having to palm them off on friends and grandparents as it is.”

“Fair point,” said Scott shrugged.

“As much as I love the job, Guv, it does get me down sometimes. Routine goes out of the window, the hours are unpredictable and life can get lonely. Look at how many relationships fall apart in the force; it’s the same with all the emergency services.

Look at me, single mum, two kids I hardly see, no time for a relationship, and each month I go overdrawn on my cards. I’m hardly a good advert for the force.”

For a brief moment Scott was washed away with his darkest memories as he thought about his family. Even though Abby was talking about the daily struggle to balance life, Scott would have given anything to have that dilemma in his life right now.

Chapter 7

Having spent the rest of the previous afternoon going through the myriad of messages that had flooded in from the press release in the Argus and Brighton and Hove Independent, Scott had overseen the DC’s job of separating the wheat from the chaff.

There were a few calls from members of the public who thought they’d witnessed the incident. However, just as many seemed to call to air their gripes about crime in the town and what are the police doing about it.

As Scott knew, all the information gathered nevertheless had to be reviewed and either followed up or dismissed as inconsequential. Any leads at this stage could offer an insight that seemed to be evading Scott and the team.

As Raj and Sian sifted through the messages, Scott still needed to review the other eleven case files sitting in his in-tray that his team had submitted to him for a weekly review.

With ongoing cases that included two reported rapes, one attempted rape, a death from a suspicious house fire, a person falling from the multi-storey car park in Worthing, and numerous burglaries, his team was already stretched to breaking point.

A big case like murder meant that he would need to prioritise resources based on the likelihood of a successful conclusion and the severity of the cases. Supervising his officers, case file reviews and endless reporting to senior management meant that frustration, stress and the feeling of chasing your tail were all too common.

***

The team gathered at first light for an update on the top floor of the station. The briefing room was large enough to accommodate an oval table with sixteen chairs around it. There was a large whiteboard on one wall and a sixty-inch TV at one end of the room.

From this elevated position, there was a good view across the city centre on a clear day, but today, the clouds cast a heavy, grey and dull canopy low across the city leaving dampness in the air.

“Guys, I know you’re all tired, and you’ve been working flat out, so let’s get this briefing wrapped up and crack on. Sian, do you want to kick off first?”

Sian was still relatively new to her role and team. An officer for five years, a switch over to CID had always been her ambition. She was of average build, not thin or overweight, dressed conservatively opting for A-line skirts, Next blouses, and low heel court shoes, her dark brown hair always secured with a high ponytail. The look was finished off with black rimmed glasses.

Nevertheless, she had that look about her that said sexy secretary. A woman who could who take off her glasses, let her hair down and shake it from side to side as they do in those infamous hair shampoo commercials. Voila, you’d have a voluptuous, vibrant, confident, attractive female who would turn heads as she walked down the street.

Sian was ambitious, diligent, and hard working. Still only twenty-seven, she’d never hidden the fact that she wanted to succeed in her career and sought promotion. In his development reviews with her, he’d been impressed with her grasp of PACE, the Police and Criminal Evidence Act, the code of ethics by which the police structured their work. He’d mused that she must have swallowed the manuals whole.

“Nothing to report. The crew at the China Garden, near where the body was found, tipped out about 12.30 a.m. and they saw nothing. No one at the hotel on the corner had anything new to shed on the situation either. The casino further up and near the club drew a blank too.

We also checked with the residents of the apartments above the Chinese, but other than some residents complaining to us about the smell of fried food from downstairs… like we’re going to do anything about it,” she said with a shrug, “There was nothing, Guv.”

“So nothing then. Thought that might be a long shot,” sighed Scott. “CCTV?”

“Nope, nothing there either, Guv, nearest camera is at the top of Preston Street on Western Road, and it was pointing along Western Road, I’m afraid.”

“Sly. Smart as well as dangerous, or just plain lucky,” Scott exhaled as he locked his hands on top of his head. “Mike?”

Mike was caught off guard in the middle of emptying a can of Redbull, causing him to dribble the drink down his chin, much to the amusement of Raj perched on the edge of chair beside him.

“Get this man a bib, someone,” Raj teased. Mike glared at him with embarrassment whilst giving him the middle finger, but saying nothing.

“Forensics have come back to confirm that the bags of powder we found at Stone’s flat and the club were cocaine. There were cocaine traces on the table in Stone’s office and interestingly on many of the tables in the club. There were also traces of coke in the toilets of Urban, and marijuana trances at Urban too.”

“Also no matching prints on the system for those found on the twenty pound notes, Guv.”

“So it looks like they turned a blind eye to drugs in the cubs, and Stone must have known about it, or at worst, was supplying it,” Scott said. He closed his eyes as he massaged the back of his neck.

“Could give us a motive,” piped up Sian.