Hit and Run (16 page)

‘What’s he like, Sulikov?’

‘I never met him.’

‘But you knew of him in Poland?’

‘Yes. He was the man, the boss. A very bad man.’

‘What about Harper?’ It would be useful to know what Marta thought about him before she and Richard interviewed him.

‘He let her dance at the club and Rosa thought he was a prince,’ she said bitterly. ‘He would never go against his boss. He’s not a brave man. He was using her. She loved him, he screwed her. Just like they all do,’ Marta paused. ‘She was thinking of names,’ she said, ‘of little clothes …’ Her eyes watered, she wiped at a tear smudging her make up. Her nose reddened. A tug of wind wrapped her blonde hair about her face.

‘Could he have killed her?’

‘Harper?’ Marta seemed sceptical.

‘When you said bully boys …’

‘Lee Stone,’ Marta suggested.

Not Harper then? What had his role been – just to keep quiet? Or had he told Sulikov Rosa was talking about leaving – had he set the wheels in motion and then walked away?

Janine watched a magpie land across the other side of the yard by the rubbish bins. It bounced a step or two and then began to stab at something on the ground. Its mate joined it. The harsh calls of the birds echoed round the concrete square. Two for joy, Janine thought. Hard to see from where she was standing. Did they have that rhyme in Poland? Did they have magpies?

‘You don’t know where Rosa was heading?’

‘I thought she was going into work. Well, that’s what she said but now, thinking of it, she was …’ Marta struggled to find an English word, ‘a little strange, like she was hiding something.’ She nodded. ‘She was running away.’

‘Since then – have you heard anything, from Lee Stone or Harper? Have they said anything at all that might help us?’

‘We’ve not seen them.’ Marta finished her cigarette, dropped it on the floor into a convenient puddle. It died with a little hiss.

Janine thought again of the bleak room that had been Rosa’s home, of the squalid life she’d led, servicing men at the brothel and then gyrating for them at the club. Putting her hopes in Harper. And it had all ended with one of the men, maybe Stone, strangling her.

The other two girls appeared, lighting up as soon as they emerged through the double doors. They both looked pale and tired.

‘The girls,’ Janine said, ‘some of them, they must know what they’re really going to end up doing. People must know it’s going on.’

‘Oh, you know do you? You have experience, yes?’ Marta said hotly. After a moment she added in a softer tone, ‘Maybe we know. But there’s always a chance, something better here. Back home, nothing.’ She shook her head very slowly. ‘No hope. Nothing.’

Harper’s solicitor, a bullish looking man with a bad complexion and an excellent tailor, had arrived and sat with his client facing Janine and Richard. Harper looked anxious, a frown lodged between his eyes, his fingers tangled together on the table in front of him. A small tic fretted at the left side of his jaw.

‘You’ve rather a lot of explaining to do,’ Janine told him. ‘Let’s start with Rosa Milicz, shall we?’

‘She danced at the club …’ he began, sounding weary at repeating the same information.

‘Don’t waste your breath,’ Janine interrupted him. ‘We know about your relationship. We know you were her pimp.’

His expression shifted, concern replacing the jaded look. ‘I …’ he faltered. ‘I liked her. We hit it off. She couldn’t settle, though. Some of them, they get used to being on the game but she hated it. So I let her work at the club, instead. But she still wasn’t happy.’

‘She was pregnant,’ Janine said.

Harper blinked. It backed up her hunch. ‘It was yours,’ she stated.

He looked a little uneasy. ‘She said it was.’

‘You thought she was lying?’

A moment then he swung his head, no. He pressed his palms against the table and ducked his head as if steeling himself. ‘She began to talk about going back. She had nothing over there.’ He implied her decision was ridiculous.

‘Family?’

Harper shrugged. Either he didn’t know what family Rosa had or he didn’t think it relevant. ‘I said I’d try and find a way, smooth things over. Then Sunday night, at work, she’s on about it again, getting in a state. I told her maybe I could persuade Sulikov to let her go – tell him she was seriously ill or something. But I needed some time.’ He spoke calmly, plenty of eye contact. ‘I told her to wait. I thought I’d got through to her.’ He shook his head.

Richard moved position. ‘Did you see Rosa on Monday?’

‘No,’ Harper said. ‘I told you.’

‘You were close to Rosa,’ said Janine, ‘but maybe a baby wasn’t part of the plan. Convenient for you – her disappearance.’

Harper’s face fell, his mouth opened as he reacted to the implication. ‘No, it wasn’t like that.’

‘You were sleeping with her, you were the father of her child and yet when she was murdered you said nothing.’ Janine challenged him to justify his actions.

‘I was scared,’ he protested.

‘She was dead.’

He flinched.

Janine carried on, hoping that more pressure would push him into talking. ‘Tell us, Mr Harper. What really happened? You killed her, didn’t you?’

‘No,’ a wobble of panic in his voice. ‘I didn’t touch her.’ He looked from Janine to Richard. His eyes shone with intensity. ‘I don’t know what you want me to say.’

‘The truth would be a start. How about something like this?’ In considering Harper as the killer, Janine had already formulated an account of events that didn’t stray too far from the few facts they had. ‘You did see her on Monday: she told her friend that she was going into work but she came to you and you had sex. She told you she was running away. You had to stop her leaving.’ Janine laid out each part of the scenario in a matter-of-fact voice. ‘You argued. You put your hand around her neck. How long did it take?’

In the pause she watched Harper’s Adam’s apple bob up and down, a bead of sweat break on his forehead and start to trace its path down his cheek.

‘And then you wrapped her in bin bags. Broke her face.’

‘Her face!’ He was appalled. ‘I didn’t kill her. I wouldn’t hurt her. It wasn’t me.’

‘Who was it then?’ Janine said sharply.

‘I can’t,’ Harper said fervently, shaking his head quickly. ‘It’s not safe. He …’

‘Who?’

The solicitor interrupted the exchange. ‘My client has answered your questions.’

‘He’s told me nothing,’ Janine retorted. ‘Who was it, Mr Harper?’

‘I can’t,’ he insisted. ‘Please, I can’t.’ His forehead was furrowed with lines, he grimaced, his lips pulled back, spittle at the corners of his lips. ‘I just can’t.’

Janine made to stand, fed up with pussyfooting about. She’d call his bluff. ‘Fine. If that’s the way you want it. Interview terminated.’

‘All right!’ Harper shouted. ‘All right. Sulikov, it was Sulikov. But I can’t …’ he lowered his voice. ‘It was a warning.’ He ran his hands over his face and breathed out harshly. ‘I’m sorry I can’t – he’ll kill me.’

‘What do you mean? A warning?’ Richard asked.

Harper slid his hands down his face leaving his fingertips splayed across his jaw, his little fingers covering the deep cleft in his chin. He sounded hoarse. ‘It was a warning, to the girls, to me.’ He spread his hands out now, palms upwards asking to be believed. ‘I don’t know if he actually did it or whether he paid someone else. He rang me up – on Tuesday.’

‘Sulikov?’ Richard checked.

‘Yes,’ Harper’s breath came erratically; he was panting as he gave his account. ‘He said I should have known better, helping myself to the merchandise. He said he’d taken care of Rosa.’ He stopped abruptly, wrapping his arms round himself, tucked his hands into his armpits, out of sight, hunched his shoulders. ‘I didn’t know what he meant at first – she hadn’t been found then. She never deserved—’ He stopped, licked his lips. ‘He said my car had made a lovely blaze. Any more problems, he said, and it’d be my house next, with me in it.’

‘Your car was used to carry the body,’ Janine reminded him.

‘To teach me a lesson.’ His eyes glistened. ‘I didn’t know any of this would happen. Honestly. I thought she would wait – maybe see sense about the baby.’

‘An abortion?’ she asked.

He looked uneasy.

‘You’d no intention of helping her, had you? You were just stalling.’

He didn’t answer, he was unnerved and the tic in his jaw was flickering away.

‘So, let’s see what we’ve got so far,’ she looked at Harper then at Richard. ‘You manage the Topcat Club and the brothel in Openshaw. Both businesses are owned by Konrad Sulikov. Sulikov is also behind a trafficking operation. Rosa Milicz was one of the women he smuggled over. You began a sexual relationship with her.’ Harper sat there as though exhausted; she wasn’t even sure whether he was taking in what she was saying now. ‘You arranged for Rosa to dance at the club although she continued to live at the brothel. When Rosa discovered she was pregnant she talked about wanting to return to Poland. You’ve told us that you last saw Rosa on Sunday at work when you argued about her plans. She was desperate to go back but you told her to wait. On Monday evening you reported your car stolen from home. Tuesday you received a phone call from Konrad Sulikov telling you he had taken care of Rosa and threatening you.’

Harper began to shake.

There was a sharp rap at the door which made them all jump. Richard spoke for the machine: ‘Interview suspended, 16.47,’ and stopped the tape. Janine went to see who it was, her head still buzzing with the details of Harper’s account. His story so far meshed with Marta’s; both pointed to Sulikov as the man behind the killing.

Richard followed her out. Butchers was there, his face bright with excitement. He held out a hands-free phone. ‘Lee Stone on the phone for you, boss.’

Her heart began to thud. She took the phone, walked a few paces down the corridor. ‘Mr Stone, this is DCI Lewis.’

‘Jez Gleason. I didn’t kill him. I never killed nobody. I need protection, a new identity, the lot.’

She locked eyes with Richard as she listened.

‘Where are you?’

‘Can you do it, get me a safe house?’

‘It’s possible. You’d need to come in and talk to me. We’d need to know how you could help us. Where are you Lee?’

‘You’re tracing this call aren’t you …’

‘No, wait. Please, Lee …’ He’d hung up already, the dialling tone loud in her ear.

Janine closed her eyes, released her shoulders, swore with frustration. ‘He thought we were tracing it,’ she told Richard. ‘He claims he’s innocent.’

Richard looked askance.

‘Wants witness protection.’

‘He’ll ring again,’ Richard reassured her.

He probably would but there was no guaranteeing it. Janine wondered whether there was any other way she could have handled the call that would have stopped him freaking out.

‘The guy’s on the run,’ Richard said, ‘his name’s on posters all over the place, we want to talk to him about two murders and a death by dangerous driving, of course he’s paranoid.’

‘He must think he’s got something to bargain with.’

‘He probably thinks telling us about the trafficking will cut it.’

Janine shook her head. ‘He’ll need a lot more than that. And if he did kill Rosa or Gleason, witness protection won’t touch him.’

*****

Marta’s head ached. She wondered if the police would give her something for the pain. They were still in the cells at the police station. The police woman had told them they would be taken to a detention centre later that night. Zofia was weeping, worried that her family would find out exactly what work she had really been doing; she had told them she was waitressing.

‘They don’t need to know,’ Marta told her. ‘Just stick to your story, there was a mistake with the paperwork. You don’t have to go home anyway.’ The girl glanced at her.

‘They’ll probably dump us at Warsaw airport, get us to talk to the police to see what we know. After that – well …’

‘What will you say?’ Zofia swallowed.

Marta shrugged. ‘As little as possible.’

Marta had no intention of staying in Poland. She’d find a way back to the West. But not with the same set-up. She wanted to put as much distance as possible between herself and Sulikov, she knew that much. Harper had always warned them that his boss wouldn’t tolerate anyone causing problems. She’d heard the rumours: the girl who’d run away without paying her full fee, who’d been found and locked in with hungry dogs; the undercover police informant who had been strung from a lamp-post, his tongue posted to his widow. Knowing what he was capable of, Marta had never imagined Rosa would be reckless enough to run away.

She’d hoped that Harper would talk her round, force her to abort the baby.

How had Sulikov found out? Had Harper betrayed her? Marta wouldn’t put it past him. The way he spoke about Sulikov, he was just as fearful of the man as the rest of them.

The place was too warm. Her skin was sticky, her eyes gritty and the pulsing pain in her temples was getting worse. They had been given tea in plastic cups – it tasted disgusting – and little sandwiches with bitter lettuce and shiny, bland cheese. The custody sergeant had asked whether any of them needed to see a doctor. A precise note was made of their possessions, pitiful really, and their details had been taken. Marta wondered whether they would get anything back. Especially her savings. If this had happened back home, it would already be lining someone’s pocket.

It was noisy; there were no carpets or curtains to soak up the noise. Everything echoed off the hard surfaces. The other two were chattering away now in Polish and beyond that Marta could hear other voices, doors banging, bursts of laughter, phones and the whine of a power drill.

The policewoman had gone. She had a nice manner. Not overly officious or trying to bully Marta for answers. She left space instead, tempting you to fill it in. Some of the questions she had asked made Marta think they were close to catching Konrad Sulikov. When the woman talked about giving evidence against him Marta’s insides turned to water. Marta had avoided the detective’s eyes. She couldn’t do that. Not even for Rosa. It would be like putting her head in a noose. Besides, it wouldn’t help Rosa now, would it?