If I Should Die (Joseph Stark) (22 page)

Stark walked to work to begin his fifth week, feeling refreshed. His hip still hurt but the painkillers were knocking the top off that. It also had a penitent appeal, reminding him that however many times he told himself he didn’t need fixing he still did.

Groombridge perched on a desk and spoke to the room. ‘Maggs was transferred into the medical care of Her Majesty’s Prison Service yesterday. He’s up before the magistrate later today. There’s just one piece of this puzzle missing. The homeless girl, Pinky. Orpington force have been looking out and her face has been on the news but we still don’t have her. I don’t like not knowing all I should know. Find me that girl.’ He delegated various tasks and beckoned Stark and Fran into his office. He made no comment on Stark’s improved appearance. ‘Ever attended an arraignment, Trainee Investigator?’

‘No, Guv.’

‘Now’s your chance, then.’

Fran drove in silence. He was getting sadly used to that. On consideration, he preferred her warm and nosy, though he’d probably regret that thought if and when she eventually came around.

Groombridge led the way into Woolwich Courts at his accustomed speed. Stark followed, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings, not sure what to expect. The guv obviously thought this would further his education, but the idea also occurred that Groombridge thought Stark’s presence might make Maggs more predictable. Led in by a uniformed court official, Maggs spotted Stark almost straight away but made little acknowledgement of it.

Stark was shocked at the transformation. Maggs wore a suit, probably loaned by his legal counsel, cheap and baggy, but nevertheless … His hair had been cut, his beard trimmed. Both were greying in places, giving him an almost distinguished air. He looked taller, leaner, more potent than the shambling mess of hair, filth and layers Stark had first met, or the frail post-operative invalid. Despite recent abdominal
surgery, he stood ramrod-straight throughout, and when called to speak, he did so concisely and respectfully. He might have been a different man.

His time before the magistrate was short. Charged with murder, he entered a plea of not guilty and was remanded into custody, in this case marched back along the tunnel linking the courts building with Belmarsh Prison.

‘I thought they’d press for manslaughter, Guv,’ said Stark, afterwards.

‘CPS think they’ve got enough for murder.’

‘But it was one against eight, self-defence?’

‘Don’t you start. DS Millhaven’s banged that drum already. His military training and the fact that he stuck Gibbs in the back weaken self-defence. CPS think they can do better.’

‘But –’

‘Ours is not to reason why, Constable. Ours is to finger the collar of suspects. What the CPS do afterwards is their jurisdiction. We suspect, they accuse. Judge and jury do the rest.’

‘Guv.’

‘Right. Let’s go and see if our suspect wants to change his story.’

So there
was
another reason for this trip. Stark was led for the first time into the embrace of Her Majesty’s Pleasure. He looked about as they were led to the interview room. The prison was clean, austere, oppressive. In some distant fashion it reminded him of barracks, though only distant. He shivered. Life in a place like this would drive him mad. The men detained here must find some way to insulate themselves from that thought. As a policeman he supposed he should take some cold pleasure in knowing this fate awaited those whose misdeeds led them here, but he wasn’t sure he could. An eye for an eye, society exacting restitution … Did Maggs deserve this? It wasn’t as clear-cut as combat. Not for the first time Stark wondered if he was the right material for this job.

After a wait Maggs was led in wearing prison-issue clothing once more. Even without the court suit he still looked a world apart from the man Stark had arrested. The eyes still had that intelligent, lupine wariness. ‘Thought we were done,’ he said, sitting with a grunt.

‘Your legal counsel knew I was coming,’ replied Groombridge. ‘Where is he?’

‘I sent the poor sod away for a rest. I’m not sure his nerves are all they should be.’

‘You’d be advised to reconsider.’

‘Why? You about to get heavy? Perhaps you should ask the screw to step outside first.’

‘Dial it down, Maggs,’ warned the prison guard in the corner.

‘You’re on remand now, Maggs. Your lawyer should be here.’

Maggs chuckled. ‘I think I’m more up to it than he is.’

‘You’ve been watching too many crap movies.’ Groombridge looked down at his paperwork. ‘Miller. He’s a decent enough man. You should take advantage. He might be the only thing between you and Life.’

‘I’ve blood on these, Detective Chief Inspector.’ He held up his large, thick-fingered hands, as if it were still clear to see. ‘Kyle Gibbs was young and dangerous and stupid enough to come at a stranger with a knife. Maybe he was unlucky that stranger was me but it doesn’t excuse him. I’m not sorry. I’ve no plan to throw myself on the mercy of the court, feign remorse, beg leniency, and I don’t need a limp lawyer to spell that out.’

‘Then why not plead guilty?’

‘I’m no murderer,’ said Maggs.

‘You stand a better chance of proving that with legal counsel.’

‘I’ll take my chances with twelve good men and true,’ replied Maggs. It was impossible to gauge if he was being sarcastic.

Groombridge gave up, turned on the tape, did the spiel and slid Pinky’s picture across the table. ‘What can you tell me about this girl?’

‘Christ, you really have aching balls for this one. Does your wife know?’

‘Cut the crap, Maggs. We know she was there, that she was directly involved.’

Maggs considered Groombridge for a moment. ‘Tell you that, did she?’

‘Yes.’

Maggs chuckled. ‘Now it’s your turn to cut the crap. It’s nice of you to drop by, but next time leave the tripwire bullshit outside.’

Groombridge had misjudged but, as far as Stark could tell, it didn’t seem to unsettle him. ‘These are CCTV stills showing the girl entering
the park. We have an eyewitness placing her at the bandstand just before midnight. Not elsewhere in the park, right where the attack took place.’

‘The “attack took place” maybe two hours later, Inspector. I can’t help noticing your little Lolita appears to be independently mobile.’

‘Indeed,’ said Groombridge, sliding another page across. ‘I had Constable Stark here double-check. These are stills from the camera on Chesterfield Gate at one twenty-four. You can just see her climbing out and running away. We almost missed it – the street-light’s out and we were concentrating on the gang – but there she is, Maggs, running away.’

Maggs didn’t respond.

‘And
this
is a transcript of our interview with one of your attackers in which she makes it clear that a “pink-haired bitch” was present.’

‘And you believe that shouty cow over me? I’m hurt, deeply hurt.’

‘It’s in your interest to tell us about her, Maggs. If she witnessed what happened she can corroborate your self-defence claims. Withholding simply incriminates you further, makes it appear as though you believe your claims won’t withstand scrutiny. Is that it?’

Maggs looked at Stark but said nothing.

Groombridge waited, and waited. ‘Have you anything to add?’ he asked finally. Maggs just stared, what was going on behind his eyes a mystery. ‘This will only harm your case, Maggs.’

‘I told you, I’m not making any case.’

‘We
will
find her.’

‘You don’t need me, then,’ growled Maggs.

‘And when we do, she’ll tell me everything,’ said Groombridge. Maggs glowered but said nothing. ‘So be it,’ said Groombridge. ‘Interview termina –’

‘Leave her alone,’ said Maggs. The remark was directed purely at Stark, with surprising ferocity. Groombridge’s finger hovered halfway to the stop button.

‘Why?’ asked Stark. Fran kicked him under the table for speaking out of turn.

‘Just leave her alone.’

‘You’ll have to do better than that, Alan,’ said Groombridge.

Maggs ignored him, or appeared to, maintaining his fierce gaze on
Stark. After what seemed an age he appeared to make up his mind. ‘They raped her. Or tried to. The dead lad, Gibbs, right? Egged on by the others, by the shouty bitch most of all, if you can believe it. Head case, that one, baying for him to hurt the poor girl. I heard the shouting, tried to ignore it, but then there was screaming too … so I had to go and look.’

‘Where were you?’ asked Groombridge.

‘Bandstand is a bit exposed for my liking. I’d bivvied up over in the Flower Garden. Plenty of cover. You should’ve guessed that much,’ he said, mocking Stark. ‘Anyway, I went over.’ He picked up the photo now and stared at it. ‘She was putting up a fight. She had guts. But she was getting a beating for it, so I stepped in.’

‘Go on,’ invited Groombridge.

‘I waded in, barged one of them to the ground, shoved Gibbs off her, and everything stopped. Everyone was shocked, not moving. Then the shouting cow started up again, calling them all names for standing off, and they were going for me. The rest is like I said.’

‘Why have you not mentioned this before?’

‘What difference does it make?’

‘It lends weight to your defence.’

‘At what cost?’

Groombridge ignored that. ‘What happened to the girl?’

‘She ran off while they were busy with me.’

‘Did you know her?’

‘Like I said, it’s not a community. But I’d seen her around. Just another frightened runaway.’

‘Know her name or where she might have gone?’ asked Fran.

‘None of my business.’

‘It’s in your interest we find her,’ insisted Groombridge.

Maggs shook his head. ‘No. It’s only in yours. Leave the poor girl alone.’

Something primal in Stark was deeply relieved to step out into the open air.

‘So, is he still lying, Trainee Investigator Stark?’

‘It wouldn’t seem so, Guv.’

Fran rolled her eyes. ‘Well, the sun continues to shine from your
arse, New Boy. Another crime revealed and solved in a blink of your all-seeing eye.’ Her voice was shot through with a thick vein of sarcasm. ‘You’re a walking stat-generator.’

‘We don’t have a crime until we have a victim, Detective Sergeant,’ cautioned Groombridge. ‘Until then we’ve only the word of a desperate man.’

Stark wanted to say that the only thing Maggs appeared desperate about was his desire to prevent the world shining its harsh spotlight on a frightened girl, but he was learning to keep his mouth shut.

Fran nodded. ‘Want to talk to Nikki and the others about it?’

‘I think tripwire bullshit has run its course with that lot too. With the magistrate looming, their legals will be keeping a tighter rein. No, the time for blundering about in the dark is over. I want to talk to this Pinky and get all the facts lined up. So let’s direct Constable Stark’s all-seeing eye to finding her.’

Stark’s supernatural abilities did not manifest. Pinky’s face was up in every station in Britain but so were a hundred others and, with the crime apparently solved, the TV companies weren’t interested in finding an extra witness. The team were covering every base short of a directionless door-to-door. All Stark’s all-seeing eye could do was stare at Pinky’s face on the wall. Next to it was the traffic-camera shot of Nikki and the unknown BMW driver. Nikki’s confident sneer came back to mock him. She believed her threats carried weight, and she’d had help. So who was the man in the black cap? Who would know?

‘I’d better come in with you,’ Ptolemy told Stark.

‘I’m sure I’m safe from a teenage boy and his overbearing mum.’

Ptolemy and Peters chuckled at his naïvety. ‘Maybe, but we don’t want the little scrote making up stories about police brutality later.’

Naveen’s mother answered the door, looked at the two officers, sighed and led them wordlessly into the flat. Naveen was no happier to see them. Around his ankle he sported an electronic monitor, condition of his bail. ‘What d’you want?’ he demanded.

‘A bit less lip, for a start,’ said Ptolemy.

Stark passed Naveen a picture of the faceless BMW driver. ‘Any idea who this might be?’

The boy shrugged. His mother leant in. ‘You know who that is, Naveen Hussein. Don’t pretend you don’t.’

‘Mum!’

‘Don’t you “Mum” me! Not after the shame you’ve brought!’

‘Who is it?’ interceded Stark, before the familial spat escalated.

The mother tutted in displeasure at her son. ‘Seen her with a big man like that,’ she replied, shushing Naveen’s frantic attempts to interrupt. ‘Around the estate, that Cockcroft girl. Bad to the core, both of them. Big ugly brute. People are scared of him.’

Naveen clearly was too. ‘Do you know his name?’ asked Stark. Naveen shook his head. ‘You told me it wasn’t the police you were scared of. I thought you meant Kyle and Nikki. Did you mean this man?’

Naveen nodded. ‘Him too. Nikki knows him. He sorts her stuff.’

‘Drugs?’

Naveen glanced anxiously at his despairing mother. ‘Don’t know his name. I ain’t even lyin’. Didn’t wanna know. He’s bad news, proper bad.’

‘Is there anything else you can tell us?’

‘He lends money, collects rent. He used to be mates with Nikki’s brother. That’s all I know.’

Ptolemy sat up. ‘Tall bloke? Fat and muscle, shaved head and a goatee beard, always wears a black bomber jacket?’

Groombridge stared at the mugshot Stark handed him. ‘You’re kidding?’

‘Sergeant Ptolemy recognized the description, Guv. And I remembered he was a suspect in your security-van heist.’

Groombridge stared at the photo, comparing it to that of the BMW driver. ‘Liam Dawson?’ He shook his head incredulously. ‘I never even
thought
of him. He used to run with Gary Cockcroft … theft, drugs, intimidation, the usual spread, until they graduated to armed robbery and triple murder. But he moved away after the case against him collapsed. Last I heard he was working as a club bouncer in Dartford. Why would he be driving Nikki around?’

‘I had Dixon email Dawson’s mugshot to Ptolemy’s phone, Guv. Naveen and his mum both ID’d him. And I’ve seen him before too.
He was in the Meridian pub the night I saw Nikki, Kyle and the rest kicking off – I took him for a doorman. And remember I told you someone in a black jacket ran from the off-licence when they saw me last week? I showed the proprietors Dawson’s mugshot. They all but soiled themselves – wouldn’t say a word. Same story with the dentist and the doctor. The pharmacist begged me to leave. We should have someone look into their inventory, make sure they’re not paying protection in pills.’