People Trafficker (9 page)

“Yes I’d like that address. I’ll follow you. Before we go, the photographs on the sideboard, which one is Lucy’s husband?”

The woman handed him one. “This is the most recent. Taken at Joshua’s birthday last month.”

It was the next day after picking up the address of Grant’s parents, that he was able to contact them by phone. They’d been away and only arrived back in the early hours. After talking to them on the phone, Inspector Morris had called Scotland Yard and asked if they would go round to see Grant’s sister, to find out if she’d seen Grant. Already he’d put a general all points notice at airports, ports and other places of exit for Grant.

The Inspector was sitting in the police canteen having breakfast, when the telephone call came through.

“Chief Inspector Grays here, Morris. The lady you sent us to call on is dead. Shot in the head twice, we believe it was professional. Can you give me the background of your request?”

He listened to all Inspector Morris had found out the day before, then told him to wait for a call. Twenty minutes later the call came. He was to go down to London urgently, bring everything he had on both the killings, the statement by the victim and details about the woman being attacked in her home, to meet a Sir Peter Parker of Special Branch.

Arriving in London four hours later, Inspector Morris was collected at the railway station and taken direct to New Scotland Yard.

After meeting Sir Peter, he spent the best part of an hour carefully going through details of both incidents with him.

“This seems to have escalated Sir Peter, for Special Branch to be involved?” Inspector Morris commented.

Sir Peter, a tall ex-commando officer, with greying hair, leaned back on his chair. “We are worried Inspector. In themselves they seem innocuous. However, if you take the return of Karen Marshall into account and the involvement of both families before she was abducted, it seems to indicate that whoever is behind the contract killings, wants every link between them and Karen broken. It could be because, with Karen back and talking of her ordeal, just maybe someone involved was worried in case these families panicked. We don’t know but the families may even have been part of the ring itself, and to save their own skins, might have decided to tell us more about the traffickers’ operation in this country.”

“I can go with that scenario. But it would mean this Grant is also very much on their hit list.”

“Of course, and I would think his sister was subjected to threats and intimidation to tell whoever it was, where her brother had gone. But more serious than that, all this wiping out of tracks seems to indicate there is to be another abduction by the same gang. But whoever they are abducting must be very high profile. Someone like Karen, even at forty thousand dollars, wouldn’t warrant a contract killer to be engaged.”

“Say it isn’t one, but a number?” the Inspector suggested.

Sir Peter shook his head. “They’d never pull it off. Girls commanding high values are selected, they are not random ones taken from the streets. To coordinate that sort of operation would involve a number of teams to snatch at the same time. Very difficult for criminals to do. Very high risk of someone talking. So although we discount nothing, it is nigh on impossible for the trafficker to achieve, I would think.”

“Would you like me to stay on the case, as far as the Manchester link is concerned?”

“Yes I would. I’ve already talked to the Chief Constable and he’s agreed for you to work directly with my department. Another important part for you is Karen herself. She lives in your patch and is due home in a few days. I talked to Sir Nigel Henderson, who’s attached to the Embassy in Cyprus only an hour ago. They have had a great deal of trouble with the girl. In fact she walked out on them, refused to talk to them anymore, but still intends to sell her story. Doing this sort of thing, for her, risks the traffickers wanting to shut her up, the same as happened to these two families, so they can get on with what they do without reporters and such snooping around.”

“I see. So this Karen’s a very foolish girl talking out like she has?”

Sir Peter took a sip of his coffee in thought. “I think the answer to your question is yes and no. Although they would like to shut her up, Karen might have considered that saying nothing made her a bigger target. I’ve seen pictures of her on the television, the same as everyone, but apparently when you meet her, even the photos don’t do her justice. She is, by all accounts an extremely attractive, well educated, intelligent girl. The papers love her, she will sell papers for them, believe me. So taking out a girl with such a high profile, her death would burst the traffickers’ bubble good and proper. Every paper in the world would be up in arms. Governments and politicians alike would be looking to clean their act up, so no blame was directed at their country. On that basis she could be bulletproof.”

“Very well, Sir Peter, I now understand things better, and your concerns. You can be assured I will keep my ear to the ground and also pursue these incidents. Just maybe the girl Susan can shed some light. Who knows, we can only try.”

“We can only hope, Inspector, in the meantime I’ll work this side looking for Grant. I’ll also keep you informed of any intelligence we receive as to the real reason these families have been targeted.”

“Thank you, what’s inside? Can I open it?” Angela asked.

Carol shook her head. “No later, besides it’s only a few Euros we had left from our holiday. Just enough to buy yourself and your new-found friends a Coke or two.”

After the last farewells they were off. Angela, sitting in the back, opened the envelope. It wasn’t just a few Euros; it was close to a hundred. Not sure if she should mention it to her parents Angela slipped the currency into her purse, already deciding to buy Carol and her husband brilliant presents for their generosity.

They arrived at Manchester Airport an hour before the short flight to Gatwick. Angela hugged her parents at the entrance to security.

“Look after yourself, love,” her mother said as she held her daughter tight, “and call us as soon as you arrive at Gatwick just to let us know you’ve met up with all the others.”

“I will, and don’t worry I’ll be fine, meet loads of new friends and have lots and lots of photos so you can see everything I’ve done.”

She let go of her daughter and they watched her go through the security of the domestic gate, before a final wave from her as she disappeared inside the departure lounge. They both walked back slowly to the main hall and found a coffee bar to wait until the aircraft left.

Her mother sat fiddling with her cup half watching the television. “That poor girl, her parents must have been over the moon to find she was still alive.”

Angela’s dad looked at his wife. “What are you talking about?”

“On the television, that girl who was abducted. Apparently she’s just finished a two-week holiday, courtesy of a newspaper and finally arrived back in the UK. Now the poor girl is giving yet another press conference. I bet she’d just like to get home and shut the door on the world for a short time.”

He swung round to look up at the screen. “Oh… that girl. They’re making a lot of fuss over it. She’s on the news quite a lot. They were saying the other night close to 20,000 people go missing a month, most are back in a couple of weeks, some never.”

The mother sighed. “I don’t think they are making too much fuss. Can you imagine if it had been Angie, you’d have been shouting from the highest mountain for someone to bring her back? Besides, I feel for that poor woman, knowing what her daughter must have had to go through. They should do something about it; the police are bound to know where they all are and what’s going on.”

“I suppose they do, but it seems the way of the world these days. We’re lucky Angie wouldn’t get mixed up in that sort of thing. She’s level headed and would never walk off with strangers.

“Yes we are, but I’m not sure if that girl intended to get involved, it just happened. Anyway shall we go up to the viewing platform and see if we can catch a glimpse of Angie getting aboard?”

Angela sat quietly alone in the departure lounge. Because the winners of the competition were from all over the country they were all to make their own way to Gatwick. Her father had decided not to drive to Gatwick, as it would have needed them to set off in the middle of the night, so he’d booked the shuttle for her. She would have preferred that they were with her when she met the group, mainly because although she’d a lot of confidence among people she knew, she was still very shy and nervous with strangers. Angela was brought from her thoughts when the announcement came to board the aeroplane.

Within the hour Angela was making her way from the domestic arrivals at Gatwick airport and along the seemingly endless passages towards the International Terminal, when a huge crowd of photographers, newsmen with security were coming down the other way. Angela stopped, a little nervously, unsure where to stand as a few photographers, ahead of the main group, pushed past her, not even apologising when one knocked her handbag onto the ground spilling the contents. Cursing them, she knelt down to collect everything together, then another girl was at her side helping. When they finished Angela and the girl stood. They looked at each other for a moment. The girl in front of Angela was the same height as her and particularly attractive.

“Thank you for helping me,” Angela said.

The girl shrugged. “It was half my fault, since I arrived in the country this bloody lot won’t leave me alone and talk about rude. Anyway forget them; I’m Karen, what’s your name?”

“Angela, I won a holiday in North Africa and it includes a sort of desert safari. There’s a few of us who won a place so I’m just on the way to meet them.”

Karen smiled. “You must be really excited?”

“I am, it’s the first time I’ve been away; on my own that is.” Then Angela suddenly recognised Karen. “Aren’t you the girl who’s in all the papers, besides being on the news?”

“Yes unfortunately, I’ve not had a moment alone since I first arrived in Cyprus a couple of weeks back.”

“You were really, really brave, I couldn’t have coped like you did.”

Karen laughed. “Don’t you believe it Angela, when the choice is to live or die, you cope – it’s self-preservation? Anyway I must go, have a brilliant holiday.”

“Yes thank you, I will, and it was really nice to meet you, besides good of you to help me.”

“Think nothing of it, maybe we’ll meet again one day?” she remarked, and then walked away down the corridor Angela had just come up.

Angela watched her for a while as Karen made her way down towards the shuttle lounge, then she herself turned and began pushing her luggage trolley to the main terminal. It seemed strange bumping into someone so famous. She’d not expected Karen to be her height. She’d always considered herself too gawky when she was growing up and only now was she finally beginning to fill out and look, what she considered, a little more balanced. However, Angela did have a touch of jealousy over Karen. She was really attractive, with a fantastic sheen to her skin and she’d love to look like her. Now she couldn’t wait to find the others then she could ring her mother and tell her who she’d just met.

In the main terminal stood a man holding a placard up in the air with ‘Conort Holidays’ plastered across it in bold print. Angela saw this and made her way over.

“Are you Angela Bandom?” the man holding the placard asked, at the same time looking at a photo he was holding in his hand when she approached.

She nodded.

“Well you’re late; we have to get you all through security and customs yet.”