No Going Back (15 page)

‘How can you be so sure?' Katya demanded.

‘Just believe me. They were using your fear to control you. Sometimes they use drugs. Once the girls are hooked, they'll do anything to get their fix. They give up any thought of running and of course become deeper and deeper in debt.'

‘Oh my God!' Hilary exclaimed, leaning away from Katya, the better to see her. ‘They didn't . . . ?'

Kat shook her head. ‘Some of the girls were talking about it, though. And Marika said if we caused trouble, that's what would happen. She also said Elena and I were going to be split up – that's why we had to get away when we did.'

‘I still find it hard to believe,' Hilary said. ‘I mean, with someone Katya's age it's bad enough, but a twelve-year-old girl.' Her face reflected her disgust.

Katya looked at Daniel. ‘I heard Anghel and Yousef talking about Elena and another girl called Molly. She is only ten, but her mother is dead.'

‘Yes, I met Molly this afternoon,' he murmured.

‘Yousef called them cash cows. What did he mean?'

Daniel hesitated, but only for a moment. For all her tender years, Kat had been through a lot over the last couple of weeks. It was a bit late to start shielding her now.

‘Some men will pay a lot – and I mean
a lot
– for a pretty, innocent young girl. A little girl that no one else has ever touched and never will. Wealthy businessmen – outwardly respectable – keeping a little plaything for their sick amusement. A little refugee from abroad – no one to know, no one to look for her . . .'

‘You don't mean they
buy
them?' Hilary gasped. ‘That's . . . that's inhuman!'

‘Unfortunately, there's very little that isn't human,' Daniel said wearily. ‘You only have to turn on the news.'

He stared into his half-empty mug, feeling depressed and thinking of starting work at eight o'clock the next morning. The hands of the clock above the dresser pointed to half past three. He supposed Hilary would have to be up early too, and said so.

She sighed, putting aside emotional issues for practical ones. ‘Yes, we should all be getting to bed. Daniel, you'll sleep here, won't you? I made a bed up in one of the guest rooms earlier.'

‘But what about Elena?' Katya exclaimed. ‘Don't you care? You know what they'll do with her. We can't just leave her there. She's my sister! What are we going to do?'

‘Of course I care, but we can't do anything tonight,' Daniel said reasonably. ‘Right now I need some sleep, even if you don't. We'll talk about it in the morning.'

‘Hi. Is that Yvonne? Could I speak to Jono, please?'

It was lunchtime. Daniel had parked up at a truck stop and had put a call through to one-time friend and partner Detective Constable Paul ‘Jono' Johnson. Jono's wife had answered. Daniel pictured her plump, curvy figure, blonde highlights and oh-so-perfect nails.

‘He's here,' she said, ‘but he's down the garden. Hang on a moment and I'll take the phone out.' There was the sound of a door opening and the acoustics changed as Yvonne Johnson spoke again. ‘He's messing about in his shed. You men and your bloody sheds! Er, sorry, who is it speaking?'

Daniel hesitated but could see no option other than the truth. ‘It's Daniel Whelan.'

‘Oh. Daniel.' The temperature dropped to cool. ‘How are you?'

‘I'm fine. Overworked and underpaid, of course.' He supposed pride had made him add that to show that he was standing on his own two feet and no object for pity. Immediately he was annoyed that he'd felt the need to.

‘Amanda says you're driving a truck.'

Bugger Amanda!

‘It's a bit more than that. Actually, I'm quite enjoying it.'

‘Oh good,' Yvonne said vaguely, and Daniel had the strong impression that she was wishing she'd asked his identity before confirming that her husband was home. The days of their cosy dinner parties as a foursome with Daniel and Amanda were clearly well and truly consigned to history.

‘I'll just pass you over,' she said then, and Daniel heard her say faintly, ‘It's Daniel Whelan.'

‘Daniel? What does he want?' Jono's voice was also quiet.

‘Well, I don't know, do I? Just take it, will you?'

A short pause, then, jovially, ‘Daniel. Hi! How are you?'

‘I'm good. You?'

‘Yes, fine, fine.' He paused. ‘So, long time no hear. Where've you been?'

‘I rang a couple of times, left a message,' Daniel reminded him mildly.

‘Yeah, sorry. Things have been a bit manic – you know how it is. Anyway . . . ?'

‘I wondered if you could do me a favour. Run a couple of checks for me.'

There was a pause, the silence resonating with reluctance.

‘Look, Dan, I wish I could, but things are a bit difficult right now . . .'

‘It's just a couple of PNC checks. Five minutes on the computer, no more – who's to know?'

‘Dan, I can't risk it. I'm up for my sergeant's exam in a week or two.'

‘Oh, congratulations.'

‘Yeah, thanks. But you can see why I have to be careful. I mean, you know how Paxton feels about you. If he thought I'd been using the PNC on your behalf, well . . .'

‘But he'd never know if you didn't tell him.'

‘Oh, he'd find out somehow.'

‘Please, Jono – this could be big. It could be to your advantage.'

‘I don't know . . .'

For the first time Jono sounded less than obdurate, and Daniel pressed on.

‘Does the name Yousef Patrescu mean anything to you?'

Another pause.

‘Patrescu? I don't think so. Why?'

He was lying; Daniel was sure of it.

‘How about Anghel Macek?'

‘What do you want to know?'

It seemed Jono was finally wavering, but Daniel had reckoned without Yvonne.

‘
Paul
, no!' she said quite clearly in the background and he did an immediate about-turn.

‘I'm sorry, Dan. I really can't help you. We practically have to wash our mouths out with soap if we so much as mention your name. Look, why don't you try one of your old mates at the Dog Unit? What about old Joey Suzuki?' he asked, using a common and deliberate mispronunciation of the man's name. ‘I heard he's working your spaniel now.'

‘Is he?' Daniel was pleased. He didn't know the man particu-­larly well, but he'd worked alongside Jo-Ji Matsuki a time or two and he had a nice way about him with his dogs. ‘Thanks. Maybe I'll do that.'

‘And look, Dan, if you're on to something, you really should report it, you know,' Johnson said.

‘On to something, Officer?' Daniel repeated dryly. ‘I have no idea what you mean.'

He rang off, and sat looking out of the cab window to where three men stood drinking hot beverages under the awning of the burger bar.

So, Joey had Bella, did he? Bella was a six-year-old black cocker spaniel, and one of the best drugs dogs in the area. Daniel had been gutted to lose her when he'd been taken off the Dog Unit. At the time he could only thank God that Taz had been forced to retire early and was therefore beyond his superiors' vindictive reach.

His thoughts slid back to Drew, as they had every few minutes throughout the day. In spite of his promise to speak to Amanda that morning, she had so far not answered or returned his calls. With little optimism, he keyed in her number once more, only to listen to the same bright, impersonal message. She was out, but if he left a message, she would call. Or not, he thought sourly as he cut the connection. Why wasn't she calling? Did she know what he wanted to talk about? Surely she knew they would have to discuss it sooner or later.

The alluring scent of sizzling beef found its way through the part-open window and he realized how hungry he was. Breakfast had been at seven o'clock, just three hours after he'd finally got to bed, and he'd shared the table with Hilary, who'd looked as heavy-eyed as he'd felt. Katya had been left to sleep on, for which Daniel was grateful. However much sympathy he felt for her – and that was a hell of a lot – he could well do without her persistent questions at that time in the morning.

As it turned out, Hilary had questions of her own.

‘In my day, a comprehensive knowledge of sex-trafficking wasn't part of the HGV test,' she had observed, tipping creamy porridge into dishes from the saucepan. ‘It seems Kat isn't the only one who's been keeping secrets. How long were you in the police force, or are you still?'

Daniel shook his head. ‘I left three months ago.'

‘Because?'

‘I'd always wanted to be a lorry driver?' he suggested fatuously.

She sensibly ignored him. ‘You don't strike me as a quitter, you're too young to have retired, and if it wasn't your vocation, then why would you have thrown yourself behind Katya's cause? Unless . . .' She froze in the act of sprinkling sugar liberally on her oats and fixed him with a suspicious gaze.

‘What?' Daniel demanded. Then as the light dawned, ‘Oh God, no! I'm not into cradle-snatching – teenagers have way too many moods and tantrums. Besides, there's Tamzin.'

‘Is there?' Hilary asked mildly, apparently returning her attention to her breakfast. She blew on a steaming spoonful. ‘I forgot to tell you she phoned yesterday, wanting to know if I'd seen you. She said you hadn't answered her texts.'

Daniel felt guilty. ‘Yeah, I know. I just didn't get round to it, what with one thing and another. I'll see her this afternoon, anyway. I'm delivering to the stables.'

Hilary made a face. ‘And that's going to make it all right?'

‘OK. Point taken. I'll call her.'

Recalling the conversation later, as he sat in his cab, Daniel phoned Tamzin and left a voice message, apologizing for his silence, saying he'd missed her. Then, postponing the decision as to whether or not to ring Jo-Ji Matsuki, he climbed down from the lorry and went in search of a burger with all the trimmings, followed closely by Taz, who wasn't about to be left out if there was food on offer.

Driving home at the end of the day, Daniel could hardly keep his eyes open. Quarry Farm Racing Stables had been his last delivery, and he'd stayed to have a coffee with Tamzin before evening stables. She had been cheerful – maybe too cheerful, Daniel reflected – and hadn't made any reference to his lack of communication. When he brought the subject up, she'd dismissed it, saying they had probably both been busy. Daniel was grateful for her understanding.

It was half past eight when he turned the Mercedes into the weedy gravel drive that ran to one side of the former lawnmower shop and followed it round to the car park at the back. A light came on at his approach, illuminating the unlovely 1970s brick building with the paint peeling from its window frames, and the cracked concrete apron below.

He parked, nose in, and went to the back of the car, finding Taz in an apparent frenzy to get out.

‘Steady on,' he told the dog as he lifted the tailgate. ‘What's the matter? Desperate for a pee?'

Taz leaped out, almost knocking him aside in his eagerness, and tore across the concrete, his bark silenced now that action was on the cards. At the perimeter fence, he hardly paused before finding a place to squeeze under the wooden panels, his bushy tail the last thing Daniel saw of him as he disappeared.

Retrieving his torch from the car, Daniel followed, bending down to shine the beam through the gap Taz had found, but he could see nothing other than grass and brambles. Beyond the fence was a field of rough grazing, accessed by a gate into a narrow side road, so there was little point in trying to follow the dog, who would no doubt have put the fear of God into whoever or whatever he'd chased. Confirmation of this came seconds later, when Daniel heard a vehicle start up and move away in something of a hurry.

As the sound of the engine faded, Daniel whistled the dog and presently Taz returned and began padding up and down on the other side of the fence, snuffling excitedly.

‘Come on, lad. Good boy!' Daniel said, and Taz obediently reappeared, panting heavily, a dead blackberry spray caught in his tail. As always, when the dog had been working, Daniel produced a tug toy from his pocket and played with him for a moment as his reward for a job well done, after which Taz trotted happily at his heels as he locked the car and made his way up to the flat.

The dog showed interest in the outside door and its handle, which suggested whoever had been there had tried it to see if it was locked. However, there was no sign that anyone had attempted to break in, and inside, the dog displayed none of the excitement Daniel would have associated with the scent of an intruder. It seemed most likely that the visitor or visitors had been disturbed by Daniel's arrival and, having had a taste of the dog, would be unlikely to return.

Daniel fed Taz and then unwrapped the fish and chips he'd bought on the way home. Taking a can of beer from the fridge, he took his meal and settled in front of the computer to check his email.

As the machine ticked and whirred into action, Daniel's heart sank as he saw no less than three emails from Drew among the dross the service provider failed to filter out. With a sigh, he started to read, sitting in the pool of light cast by the desk lamp, the earlier drama forgotten.

Two of them had been sent since their telephone conversation the previous night and they all followed a predictable theme, loaded with pleas backed up by childish reasoning, and Daniel was left saddened and frustrated by his inability to get Drew to understand the impossibility of his request.

Honouring his promise to ring after school, Daniel rang Drew's mobile, bracing himself for the expected familiar argument. He was surprised and relieved to hear a very upbeat young voice answer.

‘Dad. Hi.' It sounded as though a Grand Prix was going on in the background.