Torment (26 page)

“Not surprising. Your Estonian not good enough to understand what they were saying then?”

Ormerod smiled. “I’ve got a female uniform to sit in with them for the moment.”

“That’s good. Offer them some coffee or something, will you? I want them to settle in for a bit before we have a chat. What about the receptionist, Stella?”

“In Interview Room Four downstairs.”

“Right. Heard anything from Kelly?”

“Not yet, but I’m sure she won’t be long. Might be an idea to get together before we move things on. I’ll give you a shout.”

On the way back down to join Szymanski, Strong’s mobile rang.

“Colin, it’s Vince.”

He recognised the voice on the other end of the line as his ex-colleague, Vince Denholme from Vice. “Hello, mate,” he responded, “Have I trod on your toes?”

“Not exactly but I’m assuming it was one of your team that took a young woman back to an address in Harehills?”

“You know about the house?”

“We’ve had it under surveillance since the beginning of the week.”

“I didn’t know.”

“No reason why you should. I’ll put my boss on, DCI Holmes. He’ll explain.”

Strong heard the muffled sounds of the handset being transferred.

“Colin, is it? It’s Geoff Holmes here,”
came the older-sounding voice with a distinct Lancashire accent.

“Hello Geoff.”

“Look, we might have a bit of a problem. This house in Harehills came to our attention this week when we received reports that it was being used for sex parties and that there might be some under-age activity going on.”

“Well, my officer was DS Kelly Stainmore and she was taking one of the girls from Sweet Sensations back to where they were lodged. But, so far as I know, she’s over eighteen and we haven’t any reasons to suspect any under-age activity.”

“So what happened today, Colin?”

“As part of my enquiries into the murder of a female Albanian asylum seeker, we visited the massage parlour. I wanted to speak to Stefan Szymanski who had links with the victim. He tried to make a run for it and was being unhelpful so I made the decision to bring him in. We’re also bringing in the three girls who were working there. I know Vince has connections to Stella Hunter, the receptionist. I had to bring her in too, so it looked convincing.”

“No sign of Mirczack?”

“Not yet. Have you any idea where he might be?”

“He has one of those fancy new apartments in Leeds near the railway station but we haven’t seen him for several days.”

“What put you on to this place in Harehills?”

“Phone call. Anonymous. Said we should be aware that there were special parties taking place there, disgusting sex with young girls.”

“The call, was it recorded?”

“We always try to, yes.”

“So was it a man or a woman?”

“A young girl’s voice, foreign accent.”
Holmes took a breath.
“Look, you’re interviewing Szymanski and the girls from the parlour. I think it would be a good idea if Vince joined you. He could fetch a recording of the call. To be honest, if none of the girls are under age and you’re investigating the place already in connection with your murder case, we’ve got plenty of other things we can switch resources to, but Vince could liaise.”

“I’d have no objection to that, Geoff. But tell me, what brought Szymanski to your attention before now? And Mirczack, for that matter.”

“Obviously Szymanski for his involvement in managing the parlours. As for Mirczack, there’ve been rumours for the past couple of years that he’s been involved in trafficking. The parlours would be a good outlet for that, if you follow. Also, he’s got interests in a couple of nightclubs in Leeds. He’s got some fairly dubious connections in London too. And, before I forget, property. When we checked on the house where those girls are kept, we find it’s owned by Balkan Investments, and guess who’s principal shareholder in that?”

“All right, Geoff, that is interesting. How soon can Vince get here?”

“I’ll send him off now.”

“Thanks, I’ll wait till he arrives to brief the team.”

Instead of going down to the interview room with Szymanski, Strong went back to his office to check on any messages. DCS Flynn had left a memo on his desk giving details of the murder team allocated to the schoolgirls’ enquiry and inviting him to a briefing in Pontefract where they were setting up the incident room.

Just then, Darby knocked and addressed his boss from the doorway. “Guv, I’ve got a Jim Marshall downstairs. He’s a bus driver in Leeds. He’s only just heard we were enquiring into the missing Albanian girl.”

“Come in a minute, John.”

Darby took a couple of steps into the room. “Apparently he’s been away in Lanzarote on holiday. He recognised the photo in their canteen and one of the other drivers told him about the reports in the papers yesterday.”

“Where is he now?”

“Front interview room.”

Strong rose and made for the door. “Okay, let’s see what he’s got to tell us.”

Jim Marshall appeared to be in his mid-thirties, deeply tanned with a buzzed head, dressed in a white tee shirt, jeans, trainers and a denim jacket. He was nursing a Styrofoam cup of coffee.

“Jim,” Darby said, “this is DCI Strong, the senior investigating officer in charge of the Helena Cryanovic murder case.”

“Mr Marshall,” Strong said, “thanks for coming in. I understand you may have some information that might help us?”

The detectives sat down opposite the driver.

“Well I didn’t know till I got back.” Marshall began, looking from Darby to Strong. “I’ve been away you see, ten days in Lanzarote. Bloody hot. Anyway, it’s first day back, early shift, and I spotted your poster on the canteen wall. And I thought, I recognise that face. Pretty girl, foreign accent. And then I find out she’s dead, murdered. So I thought it best to come in after I finished work.”

Strong nodded and flipped open his notebook. “What can you tell us?”

“Well, I’ve seen her. Maybe two or three times, on my bus.”

“When did you last see her, Mr Marshall?”

“It was that last night, Thursday, 1
^st
September. We flew out next day on the 2
^nd
. I was on the 49 to Monkswood Gate. She boarded on The Headrow.”

“What time was that?”

The driver thought for a moment. “It must have been about half six,” he said.

Strong made a note. “And how was she dressed?”

Marshall finished his coffee before replying, “Black short jacket, jeans and trainers, I think.”

Strong moved in his chair to avoid anyone noticing him shudder. The image of Helena in the boot of the car in Felixstowe flashed into his memory once again. She was dressed as the bus driver had just described. He struggled to shift the recollection of her head, as if shrink-wrapped in that clear plastic bag. “Where did she get off?”

“It was up the top end of Harehills Road, just before the lights where we join Roundhay Road.”

Strong turned to Darby. “Have you got a Leeds street map there, John?”

Darby stood up. “I’ll get one,” he said and left the room.

“I appreciate you coming in, Mr Marshall.”

Marshall nodded.

“Tell me, was there no CCTV on your bus that night?”

“There was a fault. On that vehicle it hadn’t been working all week. I’m not sure if it’s been repaired yet.”

“Must have been a worry on the late night services for you, not that CCTV in itself is a deterrent.”

“You’d be surprised how many of them don’t work. I suppose the fact that the cameras are there is deterrent enough. It’s the same with speed cameras. I mean you tell me, but they reckon not all of them work. The fact you don’t know which ones mean you slow for them all.”

“I suppose that’s true.”

Darby returned, clutching a gazetteer. “Ah, thanks, John.”

He opened the street plan at the appropriate pages and placed it on the table in front of his boss.

Strong traced Harehills Road with his finger and followed it up to the junction with Roundhay Road. “So she got off here?” he asked.

“That’s right. The stop’s about a hundred yards before the lights.”

“And that would have been, what, around a quarter to or ten to seven?”

“About that, yes,” the driver agreed.

“Was she the only one to get off there?”

“Er, no, I think there was an old woman with one of those shopping bags on wheels and a couple of young lads.”

“Don’t suppose you saw where she went?”

“I had one man get on and by the time I took his fare and began to set off, when I checked my mirror, she’d gone behind the bus and crossed the road.”

“One last thing,” Strong said, “you said you’d seen her two or three times.”

The driver nodded. “That’s right, yeah.”

“Always on this same route?”

“Yep, gets on on The Headrow and gets off where she did on Thursday.”

Strong closed his notebook and the gazetteer before getting to his feet. “Well thanks very much for your help, Mr Marshall. DC Darby here will take a formal statement from you. You’ve been most helpful.”

When he left the room, his mobile rang again. This time, Souter’s name came up.

“Look mate,” he said, “I’m a bit busy at the moment. Is it quick?”

“Sorry, Col,”
his friend said,
“just wondering if you fancy a pint tonight. Bit of a catch up. There’s a couple of things I wanted to run by you.”

Strong blew out his cheeks and checked his watch. “I might need one after today. I’m not sure how the rest of it’ll pan out yet. Can I give you a call later?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Where were you thinking of?”

“How about The Redoubt at the end of Westgate?”

“Martin Grady’s place?”

“That’s right. He keeps a decent pint and it’s on your way home.”

“I’ll call you.”

Finally, when Strong returned to his office he found Kelly Stainmore waiting.

“Ah, Kelly,” he said, “anything interesting at the house.”

“You could say that, guv. I’ve just done a PNC on a suspicious Mondeo with two blokes taking photos of us and guess what?”

“Vice.”

“They’ve spoken to you?”

“Vince Denholme is on his way to join us for a briefing.” He checked his watch again. “Should be here anytime. They’ve had the house under surveillance for a few days. What have you done with the girl?”

“Interview Room downstairs. Seems we’re running out of space. I’ve got a female constable sitting in with her but I don’t want to leave her too long. I think she’s trusting me.”

“That’s good. But before you talk to her again, I think Vince might have something interesting to say when he arrives.” He opened the street map where Jim Marshall had told him Helena had stepped off the bus. “Now, exactly where is this house?” he asked.

Stainmore leaned forward in her seat and studied the map. “Here,” she said, pointing a finger, “Luxor Grove, number fifty-seven.”

Strong smiled grimly. “So if I tell you Helena got off the number forty-nine bus here around six-fifty on Thursday evening, 1
^st
September, last seen crossing the road, where do you think she was heading?”

Stainmore nodded. “Plus, Lyudmyla tells me she was expecting her that evening but Szymanski changed their night off and sent them off to do a shift in Sensations.”

He was thoughtful for a few seconds. “How did the house look?”

Stainmore described what she’d seen inside the girls’ accommodation, including the locked ground floor room where Lyudmyla stated that special parties took place. She also mentioned the mystery room in the basement.

“Right,” Strong said, “I’m going to see Flynn. We need a warrant and get SOCO round there. All the evidence points to Helena heading for Luxor Grove and never seen since. Round up the troops for …” He checked his watch once more, “fifteen minutes. Vince should be here by then.”

48

The CID room was buzzing when Strong and DS Denholme walked in. Kelly Stainmore, Luke Ormerod and John Darby were relating the events of the afternoon to Jim Ryan, Sam Kirkland, Trevor Newell and Malcolm Atkinson. Ormerod was regaling the others on Darby’s assertion that it was the first time he’d been in a massage parlour.

“It’s true,” he protested, adjusting his crotch and drawing more laughter from his colleagues.

“Okay, everybody, listen up,” Strong announced. “We’ve got some work to do now.”

The conversations quickly died and attention focused on the latest arrivals.

“For those of you who don’t know, this is DS Vince Denholme.” Strong held out an arm indicating the new man. “DS Denholme is from the Vice Squad and here to liaise and give us the benefit of his knowledge.”

Strong turned to the whiteboard behind him with various photos stuck to it. Writing and lines in felt-tip pen connected text boxes and some of the pictures. “Helena Cryanovic,” he began, pointing to her photo on the board, “last seen, as we now know, getting off the number 49 bus on Harehills Road, near the junction with Luxor Grove, on Thursday 1
^st
September at approximately 6:50pm. Her body was found last Monday in the boot of a stolen Mercedes SLK 230 Sports Coupe which was in a container at Felixstowe Docks. Estimated time of death, Kelly?”

Before Stainmore could respond, DS Ryan interrupted, “Sorry, Kelly, I took a call for you this afternoon. The pathologist in Ipswich had results from the tests he was running and he’s refined his estimate to between Thursday and Saturday which would be between the first and third of September.”

Strong wrote a note on the board. “That’s good, so now we’ve got a smaller window to work with. The Merc was stolen from an address in Crigglestone on Friday evening, that’s the second of September. We know this car was in the barn at Meadow Woods Farm on Saturday the third because it was seen by Susan Brown and it had been stolen by Gary Baker and Steve Chapman – current whereabouts unknown. Any news on that anyone?”