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Chapter 12: Charlie Duff

Sunday Morning

The girls were still asleep. Smiffy left them and went down to the kitchen to make some tea and toast. He looked out of the window at the countryside around the isolated cottage. The trees of a small, wooded vale glinted as the winter sun lit the frost on their branches. A crow lazily lifted itself from the ploughed field that lay on the other side of the track, and flew off in the direction of the coast, which could be seen beyond the tree line.

‘One thing about the places Charlie finds, they’re always pretty.’

Smiffy turned to find Ricky standing behind him.

‘It’s good, apart from being further away from the coast. But maybe that’s not important?’

‘No. Charlie’s chopped the links with his Romanian contacts until this fucking mess blows over. We won’t be bringing any more girls across for a while.’

* * *

Blossom woke from a deep sleep. For a moment he wondered where he was. It had been weeks since he’d last slept in his flat.

He threw off the duvet, slid out and padded to the shower. He dressed and, as they had arranged the previous night, went downstairs to Jennie’s apartment. He tapped on the door.

Jennie was wrapped in a towel. ‘Be a sweetie and make a pot of tea, would you?’

Blossom walked through to a well-fitted kitchen and filled the kettle. Life had taken a major turn for the better. He switched on the radio and found himself listening to some classical music. He checked the dial. He’d never listened to Radio Three in his life before, and he sat down and let the classical music wash over him. He searched for tea and mugs in the cupboards and took milk from the fridge. He placed the items on a pine table in the middle of the kitchen, then sat waiting. She came in, towelling her hair.

‘What’s that music?’ he asked.

‘Umm, sounds like a string quartet, but I don’t know which one. Why do you ask?’

‘I’ve never listened to anything like it before. It seems kind of right for my mood. You know, sort of light and airy.’

‘Probably Mozart or Haydn by the sound of it.’

‘Don’t you listen to pop music?’

‘Not much. I quite like folk. The boyfriend I had when I was first at university was heavily into the folk scene and I used to tag along. In fact my all-time favourite song is an old one from my parents’ time.
The Last Thing on My Mind
? Tom Paxton?’

Blossom looked blank, so she began to sing.

‘You’ve got a lovely voice,’ he said.

‘It’s my middle-class upbringing. Singing and music lessons, brownies and guides, A levels, university. All the usual stuff.’

‘I suppose you did accountancy or something?’

‘Not at first. I studied medicine, because my parents always wanted me to be a doctor. I made it past the halfway point and then realised I hated every minute of it. So I took a year out, travelled for most of it. When I came back I started a degree in management and accountancy. Much more my type of thing. And that’s how I am what I am.’

‘What, you mean being a greedy banker and having two boyfriends for the price of one?’

‘I’ve just finished with Paul — the tall one. We started going to one of the local bondage clubs. The deal was that we wouldn’t go too far or get too heavily involved with anyone else. But I found out that he’d started meeting someone on the quiet at one of those hard-core London clubs.’

Blossom laughed. ‘But you were two-timing him, weren’t you?’

‘No. Everyone here thinks I was. I quite liked the idea of that sort of reputation, and I played along with it. But James, the other man in my life, is just a very close friend. We go out for meals and to the theatre together, but we’re not an item.’

‘So there’s hope for me yet?’

She smiled. ‘Play your cards right and you never know.’

‘But I’m not into bondage. I do boxing and I’ve done a bit of wrestling. I do all kinds of gym exercises, but I couldn’t do S&M. It’s mostly a bit of a dabbler’s lark, isn’t it?’

‘That’s all I wanted, and I kind of enjoyed it while it wasn’t too serious. I’ve always liked being in charge, it suits my bossy nature, I suppose. But Paul was getting in too deep. I was getting worried anyway, even before I found out he was seeing someone in London.’

‘My old boss was into it. It was his wife who was keen, but he’s been a few times since she died.’

‘Was this the guy you described as a two-faced git?’

‘That’s the one. Charlie Duff.’

‘What was his line of work?’

‘He does lots of things. He owns a car repair workshop, a couple of rundown hotels, a pub, a couple of second-hand shops, a couple of sex shops and a chain of cafés. It’s all shady. He’s basically a criminal. And I ended up working for him.’

‘Should you be telling me this, Blossom? I’m not sure I want to know, anyway.’ She shook her head in amazement. ‘I’ve just helped you get a job as a security manager, for Christ’s sake. And now you tell me you’ve been working in some kind of underworld gang. What have I done?’

‘It’s all in the past, Jennie. I’ve been planning this break for some time, ever since I bought my place a couple of years ago. I’ve had enough of it. There’s no honour among thieves, believe me. It’s dog eat dog, and the people are all sick in the head.’

‘Well, okay. But this is a side of you that I never suspected. It’s going to take me a while to get my head around it.’ She finished her tea and looked him in the eye. ‘Have you thought of going to the police?’

‘Yeah. I probably will, but there’s a lot I have to think through first.’

‘Okay. That’s good enough for me for the time being. But don’t put it off too long. And let me know when you’ve done something about it, okay?’

‘Message received loud and clear, boss.’ He glanced at the clock. ‘Do you fancy going out for a big breakfast? I’ve found a really good café in town.’

‘Sounds yummy.’

* * *

Sorina, the youngest of the girls, had become close to Catalina after Nadia had escaped. Now she was worried about her. The previous evening she’d been sick twice in the van, and then had been forcibly drugged by two of the gang members. She was sharing the same bed as Sorina, and had disturbed her several times in the night, tossing and turning. Sorina tiptoed to the window, pulled the curtain aside and glanced out. It was a beautiful scene. The cottage was situated at the head of a shallow valley that led to the coast, several miles to the south. The copses of trees along the valley were coated with frost that glinted silver in the low, morning sunlight.

She returned to the bed. Catalina was flushed, with a sheen of perspiration across her face. She moaned softly. Her breathing didn’t seem right. It was laboured, with a pronounced rasp. The younger girl gently placed her hand on her bed-mate’s forehead. It was burning. She walked to a sink in the corner of the room, wetted a flannel and gently wiped Catalina’s face. The older girl groaned and opened her eyes.

‘I don’t feel well, Sorina.’

‘I will tell the men. Maybe they have some medicines. What is wrong?’

Catalina tried to haul herself up into a sitting position. ‘My head is so sore and I feel sick and weak. Maybe it was something in that horrible food they’ve been giving us.’

‘Just stay in bed. I will do what I can.’

A few minutes later the door was unlocked and Barbu’s head appeared. The men had got into the habit of unlocking the doors to give each pair of girls ten minutes in the bathroom.

‘Catalina is unwell. She has a fever,’ Sorina told him.

He came into the room and glanced at the older girl. ‘Get her into the bathroom anyway. We’ll take a look after breakfast.’

‘Can’t she stay in bed?’ Sorina asked.

‘Do what I say.’

She helped Catalina up, and drew back the bedclothes to allow them to air. Barbu waited at the door for the two women to make their way along the narrow landing to the small toilet and washroom. He stood outside while they cleaned themselves. Catalina shivered as they dressed and made their way to the kitchen. She refused all offers of food. She sat with a mug of coffee, shaking. Sorina overheard Barbu talking to one of the gang leaders, but could not understand what he said. One of them placed a small packet of paracetamol tablets on the table in front of Catalina. She shook her head.

‘Take them,’ Sorina whispered. ‘It is the only medicine you will get. They may help you to feel better.’ Catalina took two.

‘Can she go back to bed?’ Sorina asked. ‘Please? I am worried about her. She has a fever.’

‘Make sure she’s better by the end of the week,’ Barbu snapped. ‘Otherwise it will be the worse for both of you. If you need more medicine, tell me.’

She led Catalina back up the stairs and into their room. She helped her friend back into her nightclothes. Sorina looked through the cupboard shelves and found a couple of old, thin blankets. She lay beside Catalina until her breathing slowed, then she crept out of the room and back downstairs.

‘I will look after her,’ she told Barbu. ‘Some soup would be good at midday. I will take some water for her. She must keep drinking.’

He merely curled his lip and glanced across at Ricky.

‘Charlie’s going to have a fit,’ Ricky said quietly to Smiffy. ‘We can’t afford to lose another one. Speaking of Charlie, that looks like his car now.’

A black BMW was making its way slowly along the icy road. Ricky unlocked the door and walked out to greet his uncle. His cheery welcome was not reciprocated.

‘The fucking cops have been at your place,’ said Charlie.

‘What? The bungalow?’

‘What other place have you got, for Christ’s sake?’

‘There’s nothing there to finger us. It’s as clean as a whistle.’

‘I should fucking hope so. But they shouldn’t have been there at all.’

‘Maybe it’s for something different. Plods come calling for all kinds of reasons.’

‘What do you take me for, you prick? Do you think I’d come rushing across here just because some thicko cop in a shiny hat has paid a visit to ask if we’re happy with the colour of their nice new uniforms? It was two clever-clogs detectives. I reckon it was the same two that Blossom said you saw at the farm. A ginger-haired guy and an older woman. And she gave me the fucking creeps. She started talking about Hazel’s garden and then spouted poetry at me. She’s either off her rocker or playing silly games. What was it she said to you at the farm?’

‘Something about sifting information.’

‘Well, she’s been sifting alright, and you’ve come to the top of the heap, you pillock. Why didn’t you just stay natural and not raise any suspicions? She knows your name now. How long will it be before she gets mine?’

‘Did she ask?’

Charlie gave his nephew a withering look. ‘Course she fucking asked. But that doesn’t mean I told her. And there’s no reason to think she’d make any connection between us. But you’re gonna have to stay out of sight for a while. Christ, this whole business is disappearing down the plughole.’

‘Do you think Blossom’s been talking to them?’

‘I don’t know what to think any more. One thing’s for sure, we can’t just leave him out there. He knows everything. If he decides to talk, we’re all for the high jump. We’ve got to find him.’

‘And?’

‘What do you think?’

* * *

Sorina spent the rest of the day looking after Catalina. She visited her every hour and, if she was awake, encouraged her to swallow some water. She spooned some thin soup into her mouth at lunchtime and managed to get her to chew part of a slice of toast. As dusk fell, she helped Catalina out of bed, wrapped her up in a blanket and sat her in a chair while she changed the damp bedclothes. Sorina then sponged her down, dried her and helped her back into bed, giving her another two tablets.

That night Catalina’s moans disturbed her, and her own dreams were filled with images of sickness and death. The next day Sorina kept a close watch on her friend.

On the second morning she awoke to the sound of birds fluttering in the eaves. She turned and realised that Catalina was lying on her side, watching her. The older woman smiled weakly.

‘Are you feeling better?’ Sorina asked.

Catalina nodded. ‘But I am still weak. I know what you did for me, Sorina. I am so grateful to you. You are a true friend.’

Sorina smiled happily at her roommate. ‘I was so worried about you. And I need you to be well if we are to escape together and join Nadia.’

‘We will see,’ said Catalina.

Chapter 13: The Visit to Gloucester

Sunday Afternoon

Susan and the Allens’ elder daughter, Hannah, had arrived together earlier than the rest of the family, travelling direct from Bristol. Sophie hugged her grandparents and introduced them to Martin and Jade.

‘Hannah’s been telling us all about her life in London at drama college,’ James said. ‘It sounds fascinating.’

‘What are your plans, Jade?’ said Florence.

‘Medicine. I want to be a doctor. I always have. Do you approve?’

‘Oh yes, but why do you ask?’

‘I’ve only just met you, but you are already two of the most important people in my life. I’ve been thinking about you all week. I couldn’t talk to Mum about it because she’s been so busy. I don’t really know what to say. I’ll probably keep putting my foot in it, but I want you to know that I already love you loads.’

‘That’s just the best thing you could say, Jade.’ Florence’s voice was quivering.

‘A cup of tea, please, someone. I’m gasping.’ In her present mood, the last thing Sophie wanted was a repeat of their emotional first meeting.

‘On its way,’ said Susan. ‘And Hannah has bought a big box of cream cakes and scones, so we can have a proper English cream tea.’

‘There’s something you must know about the three women in my life,’ Martin said. ‘It’s their love of food in general and cream cakes in particular. Sophie might be a senior police officer, but I’m convinced she’d turn to a life of crime if it meant getting into cake shops. Even her love for me only extends as far as the supply of cream buns. I have no illusions.’

Hannah gave him a hug. ‘Poor Dad, having to put up with us. But you love us really, don’t you? Here, have another cream cake.’

Martin sat down beside his mother-in-law. ‘How are you, Susan? You’re looking really well.’

‘I feel wonderful. I’ve found the parents I never had. After what my real ones did I could never bring myself to try again with them. It’s too late now, they’re both gone. But James and Florence are such kind and thoughtful people. It must have done them a world of good to discover all of us, too, after forty years. They’re just a bit worried about Sophie’s workload.’

‘Aren’t we all,’ he said. ‘But you know what she’s like. The problem is that there’s another huge case at the moment.’

‘Is it the one I think it is — those bodies dug up on the farm?’

He nodded. ‘That’s all I can say. Part of the problem is that she doesn’t know how far it extends, and where it might go.’ He sipped his tea. ‘Let’s talk about more cheerful things, shall we?’

His two daughters were having a whispered conversation.

‘I wonder what those two are up to?’ he said.

They soon found out.

‘Ladies and Gentlemen!’ announced Hannah. ‘Please take your seats for a short entertainment provided by that talented duo, Sisters-a-GoGo, song and dance duo extraordinaire. We sing. We dance. We sometimes fall over, but so far we’ve always managed to get up again. This has been long in the planning . . .’

‘Three telephone chats in the past two days,’ interjected Jade in a stage whisper.

‘. . . And short in rehearsals.’

‘None,’ added Jade. She made a zero sign with her thumb and forefinger.

‘But what we lack in practice, we more than make up for in enthusiasm and energy.’

‘She supplies the enthusiasm, the cream cakes supply the energy.’ Jade suddenly looked puzzled. ‘What do I supply, Han?’

‘The glamour and charm?’

‘That’ll do nicely. Shall we start?’

The two girls sang, danced and joked their way through two of their own songs, and finished off with a humorous rendition of “Sisters”.

‘That was just perfect,’ said Florence. ‘How on earth did you manage to put it together in so little time?’

‘We are just so talented, it doesn’t bear thinking about,’ answered Jade. ‘Sisters-a-GoGo is set to take the world by storm. Eat your hearts out, Beyonce and Lady Gaga, your time is up. Start looking for new jobs now, because—’

‘We did it for Mum and Dad’s twentieth wedding anniversary party,’ interrupted Hannah. ‘It was only last year, so it’s still fresh in our minds.’

Jade was still striking a dramatic pose, one hand on her hip, the other pointing in the air. She turned and gave her sister an exaggerated glare.

‘Spoilsport,’ she said.

* * *

After tea they discussed Graham’s funeral.

‘We’ve been offered late Thursday morning,’ James said. ‘There’s a slot available because of a postponement. We’ve been assured that the pathologist will have freed his body by then, so we’re thinking of taking that booking. What do you all think?’

They all agreed and began to make plans.

As they were leaving, Florence drew Sophie aside.

‘This has been one of the happiest days of my life. I never dreamt I would feel like this ever again. To discover you all and to find what lovely people you are is just so perfect. I can’t put into words what it’s meant to me.’

‘Gran, this hasn’t been just a one-off. I hope that we’ll see each other regularly. Martin and I would love the two of you to come and stay with us down in Wareham. It will have to wait for a few weeks until my workload has calmed down a bit. But we’ll continue to pop up and see you here, if that’s alright.’

‘I’d love it, more than anything else in the world. Susan’s going to call on us later in the week, but she lives a lot closer than you. I already love Hannah and Jade. You must be very proud of them.’

Sophie nodded, tears in her eyes. ‘I am. Fiercely proud. That’s how my mum described her feelings for me.’ She gave Florence a kiss. ‘We have to go. I have an early start tomorrow.’

* * *

Soon after they arrived home Sophie received a phone call from Benny Goodall, the pathologist.

‘What? Are you sure?’ Horrified, she lowered herself into the nearest chair.

‘Jesus, Benny. I didn’t expect it to be this bad . . . Okay. Will you keep me informed? I’ll come across tomorrow if that’s alright. We need to talk about this.’

Sophie sat staring at the phone for several minutes. Then she looked up at her husband.

‘There are signs of multiple deep knife wounds on both of the bodies, even though there’s not a lot of tissue left. Benny saw nicks to the bones and joints consistent with a sustained knife attack. And each body had similar knife marks on the small bones in the neck. Benny thinks they both had their throats cut to finish them off after they’d been stabbed or slashed.’