Depth of Despair, page 5
‘Search me. Perhaps he’s on their bear most-wanted list. I suppose I’ll have to ring them, although it has nothing to do with our two skeletons.’
‘How do you know?’
‘It doesn’t tie in date-wise. Ramirez says the shortest time those skeletons could have been in the water is seven or eight years. This bear is less than five years old.’
‘So you’re discounting the bear?’
‘I didn’t say that. I still want to know how a handmade teddy bear found its way from Russia to one of the most remote parts of North Yorkshire.’ Nash glanced down at the paper. ‘It’s to be hoped Commander Dacic can tell me, because it’s got me baffled.’
‘I wish to know,’ the English was accent-free, ‘why you’re enquiring about the teddy bear?’
‘It was found in a remote area and seemed to have been hidden deliberately. In the circumstances, we were curious to find out how the bear ended up here.’
‘Please explain. What circumstances?’
‘The bear was found close to a small tarn in a very isolated area where two skeletons had been discovered.’
‘Tarn?’
‘Sorry, tarn is a mountain lake. Very small, usually remote.’
‘Thank you. These skeletons, they were recovered from the tarn?’
‘Correct, they’d been there a long time.’
‘Please tell me more about the skeletons?’
‘I don’t know much more, Commander.’ Nash admitted. ‘We believe the skeletons had been in the water somewhere in the region of ten years. According to our pathologist they were young girls of about sixteen. One of them was pregnant when she was killed. They were shot in the back of the head. When we found out how short a time the bear-maker had been in business we discounted it from our enquiries. It still begs the question of how the bear found its way to such a place, though,’ Nash paused and added. ‘Now perhaps you’ll tell me what your interest is in the bear?’
‘It’s part of an ongoing enquiry my department is making,’ the woman stated flatly. ‘Please fax me copies of all the relevant papers. Here’s the number,’ she recited a fax number.
Her arrogant tone was too much. ‘I’m afraid I can’t do that without more information.’
‘It’s concerned with a continuing enquiry.’ Dacic’s tone was one of irritation. ‘I’m unable to say more. Kindly send that information.’
‘If you refuse to divulge any of the facts, there’s little point in retaining your number.’ As he spoke Nash crumpled the paper near enough to the receiver for the sound to be heard at the other end. He then replaced the handset.
‘That’s interesting.’ Mironova had been standing alongside Nash’s desk throughout. She pointed to one of the notes Nash had made. ‘The name Dacic, that isn’t Russian.’
Nash looked up. ‘Where’s it from?’
‘One of the Slav states,’ Mironova told him. ‘My father could tell you for certain, but if I had to guess I’d say Serbia or Croatia. Serbia most probably.’
‘Your point being?’
‘If she’s a Slav as well as a woman, she must be very highly thought of to have risen to the rank of commander within the Russian police. They’re renowned for being both xenophobic and sexist.’
‘All of which gets us no further forward,’ Nash commented gloomily. He smoothed out the paper containing the fax number and placed it into the file.
Janko Vatovec was way beyond anger. He glared at his subordinate. ‘You mean to tell me,’ he hissed, ‘that one of our houses has been burned down, our contact in the police arrested and one of our assets disposed of. All because of some woman from St Petersburg? Who is this bitch, Wonder Woman?’
‘She’s a commander in the EKU,’ his underling replied miserably. ‘Her name’s Zena Dacic.’
Vatovec stood up abruptly. ‘Snow Woman!’ He exclaimed harshly. ‘Shit! That’s all we need. If that bitch is on our tails then we’re in trouble. No wonder they burned the house down if that cow’s in charge.’
He began pacing the floor. ‘You’ve not heard of her, have you?’ His deputy shook his head. ‘Zena means “snow woman” in Croat. It’s wrong though. Dacic is colder than snow, she’s pure ice. She was the one who broke up the Minsk trafficking ring. The two leaders were shot, supposedly whilst trying to escape.’ Vatovec laughed, a laugh that was totally devoid of humour. ‘Escaping, my arse! They were both shot twice.’ He leaned over his assistant. ‘The first shot blew their balls off. The second was through the temple. Rumour has it Dacic fired the first shots herself. Then she left them in a locked room, handcuffed and with one round apiece in their pistols. When the pain got unbearable they topped themselves. That’s the evil cow who’s turned her attention on us.’
‘What will you do?’
‘There are two choices. We either fold up or take her on.’
‘Take her on, what does that mean?’
‘It means we have her terminated.’ Vatovec smiled, another mirthless gesture. ‘The Minsk operation wasn’t part of the Federation. We are. That gives us a distinct advantage. Dacic has never taken on the Federation before. I don’t think they’ll be happy to learn she’s interfering in their operations. I’ve been paying into Federation funds for years and I’ve never claimed anything in return. Now I realize what a shrewd investment it was. I have to make one phone call and the Snow Woman will be melted like that.’ Vatovec flicked his fingers.
Vatovec broke off as the phone rang. His face darkened with fury as he listened. ‘The bitch has hit us again, and it’s worse this time. Another house burned down. If someone’s squealing I’ll circumcise the bastard from his crotch up to his neck.’
‘What’s happened this time?’
‘The Bulgarian police raided our house in Vidin. They closed it down, arrested everyone inside and carted them away. When our man came back next morning the fire department was hosing down the remains. She’s destroyed two of my properties in forty-eight hours. He had a word with one of the firemen. They got a call from the police who told them it was a disused building and they were going to use it as a way of testing emergency responses. The fireman also told him that although the local police were giving the orders there was a woman on the scene as well. She was about thirty years old, copper-coloured hair and spent the time leaning against her limo smoking cigarettes. That sounds like Dacic to me. Now do you understand how dangerous this bitch is? Now do you understand why I call her an evil cow? Why she must be eliminated?’
The four detectives sat round the table in Helmsdale CID office. Superintendent Pratt had driven over to join Nash, Sergeant Mironova and DC Pearce for the briefing. The main item on the agenda being Ramirez’s findings. The December afternoon was well advanced by the time Nash had returned with the file, but the first snow of the winter added a little brightness as the flakes drifted lazily past the window.
‘We know how little we have to go on, even less now our little bear has been cleared of any involvement in the murders. So I’ll give you a rundown on Mexican Pete’s results and see if it gives anyone a bright idea.’
Nash glanced down. ‘We know the first of the skeletons, skeleton A, is that of a young girl of no more than seventeen. Skeleton B is probably at least a year younger. We also know skeleton B was at least five months pregnant. So in addition to the murders we can be sure that at least one other crime was committed, that of unlawful sexual intercourse, if not rape. Whether the girl’s pregnancy was the motive for her murder or not we don’t know, but I’ll return to both these points later.
‘On the dental records, these do not match any patient treated within the NHS. From what we’ll hear shortly that’s hardly surprising.
‘Analysis of the skeletons revealed malnutrition over a long period. There was also evidence of localized trauma in certain areas of the body, consistent with beatings or physical abuse. There was significant deformity to the pubic bone in both cases. The malformation suggests a high level of sexual activity that occurred whilst the bones were still relatively soft. The assumption Ramirez draws is that both girls had been engaged in child prostitution.’
Nash’s face was grim, his eyes as bleak as the weather. ‘Ramirez concludes that this sexual activity must have commenced at least four years before the girls were killed, otherwise the bones would not have been soft enough to register the deformity. That means,’ he said heavily, ‘they had become, willingly or otherwise, prostitutes before they reached the age of twelve.’
The silence reflected the horror of what they were hearing. Nash waited a few moments before continuing. ‘Finally, Ramirez has now received the laboratory analysis on the DNA removed from the skeletons. The mitochondrial DNA suggests both girls came from the same region. The genetic structure of their DNA is consistent with the gene pool covering Eastern Europe.’
Nash waited for this to sink in. ‘That’s all Ramirez had to report. I don’t know how it reads to you but I’m beginning to see a pattern. I find it highly significant that the two dead girls hail from Eastern Europe and that we’ve found a Russian toy close to the scene. Admittedly our little friend isn’t directly associated with the murders but the link can’t be ignored. Particularly given the acute interest shown by the Russian Federal Police.’
Superintendent Pratt leaned forward, resting his forearm on the table. ‘How do you interpret all this?’
Nash rolled his biro to and fro. ‘I think we’re faced with an appalling crime, Tom. I think it’s a crime none of us has ever encountered. Maybe we thought our patch was safe from this sort of obscenity. We were wrong. My belief is these poor girls were victims of sex traffickers. I think they were smuggled into the country to service the perverted needs of paedophiles. My guess is that when they became pregnant they were got rid of. The ultimate in a disposable society.’
‘What about the bear? How does that fit in?’ Mironova asked.
Nash’s expression became grimmer. ‘I think Mitya belonged to another of the traffickers’ victims. I think the bear belonged to a child who has been reported missing more recently, hence the Russian police interest.’
‘Do you realize what you’re implying?’ Pratt asked.
‘I do. I think the bear was concealed as a last act of defiance. By a girl who knew or guessed what was going to happen and left the only clue she could in the hope that someone would interpret it. If you remember, I said two months ago I believed there to be more bodies at the bottom of Lamentation Tarn.’
‘I also remember saying if you bring me evidence I’ll authorize another search. I think I’ve heard enough.’
‘Thank you,’ Nash said quietly. ‘There are a few more points to settle, however.’
‘Such as?’ Pratt asked.
‘First, there’s the question of whether we should involve MCU?’
‘The Major Crimes Unit is certainly the right vehicle for international crime; however, I think it’s a bit early to be involving them. We only have Ramirez’s report to give us an international connection. The bear signifies nothing at present. No, we’ll leave MCU out of it for the time being. We can always review the situation later.’
‘We also have to consider the request from St Petersburg for information about the facts surrounding the case.’
‘No bloody way,’ Pratt growled. ‘If they want facts from us they’ll have to come up with a few themselves. Let them stew.’
‘Fine by me,’ Nash grinned.
Tom Pratt got to his feet. ‘Unless there’s something urgent, I’m off. I’m away as from tomorrow so I want to get back to Netherdale before the roads get too bad. Much as I like the three of you I’m not sure I want to spend the night with you.’ He paused before correcting himself. ‘Well, two of you at least.’
Pearce left shortly after the Superintendent, leaving Nash and Clara reviewing developments. She noticed Nash was a little preoccupied and thought she knew the cause. ‘How’s Stella?’ She asked. ‘You went to visit her last weekend, didn’t you?’
‘Just the same, really; she doesn’t seem to be making any progress.’
Clara nodded. ‘I agree. I went again yesterday evening.’
Nash stared at his sergeant in surprise. ‘That was kind. What did you think?’
‘I think you’re right when you said she’s lost the will to fight. I think she needs something to motivate her. The trouble is finding the right button to press.’
‘I know. I’ve been trying to think up ways for long enough.’
‘I had an idea that might help. Why not bring in a specialist?’
‘I told you, she won’t allow me to talk to her consultant.’
‘I wasn’t meaning the neurosurgeon. I think you should talk to a psychologist.’
Nash smiled fleetingly. ‘For Stella or me?’
Clara grinned. ‘Both of you. Although you might be past help.’
‘Thank you kindly.’
‘My idea was for you to think about something I heard of called distraction therapy. It involves getting the patient to concentrate so hard on something else they forget what’s really wrong. Apparently it’s been used extensively on pain management with a lot of success.’
‘What problem do you suggest I set for Stella?’
‘Well, there’s always you.’
‘You never miss the chance to insult me. Now you’re suggesting I’m a problem, are you?’
‘Definitely,’ Clara grinned. ‘You’re a problem for any woman who gets close to you. What I meant was if you were to go see her and tell her about everything that’s worrying you, it might take her mind off her own problems.’
‘I’d feel lousy dumping all that on her.’
‘No you wouldn’t. Let’s face it, you used to talk to her about cases. It might get her fighting again.’
The security guard at Good Buys supermarket, Netherdale branch, was bored. The morning trade was slack. He saw the girl enter, saw her hesitant look round before venturing further inside. At first he’d taken her for a young mother from Carthill council estate, then realized she was far too young. She was dressed inappropriately for the weather. The minidress with high hemline and plunging neck was too flimsy, covered too little. Her shoes, flashy enough in a tawdry sort of way, were far from new. She looked, the guard thought, ‘foreign, in need of a good wash, and a proper little tart’. He decided to follow her. He watched as she wandered up and down the aisles staring at the food. She looked lost, confused. ‘Probably drugged up,’ he thought. She reached out and slipped a chocolate bar into the pocket of her dress, then another before heading for the exit. That was when he signalled a female employee to help him tackle the shoplifter.
Commander Dacic read the text. It was brutally short. It read, ‘Contract placed. Target; you. Hit tomorrow a.m.’ There was no signature.
She picked up the phone. ‘We have a problem.’
Early the following morning the man was in position. The window in the apartment he’d chosen was directly opposite Police Headquarters and gave him an excellent line of fire. He’d hit the tenant over the head and hauled her into the bedroom, then placed a pillow over her face until she stopped squirming. It was a pleasant apartment. The old lady had kept it really nice. The new occupants would appreciate that.
His Kalashnikov was set up on a tripod. He went through to the kitchen and brewed coffee. Having finished his drink he glanced at his watch. Time for action. The street was deserted. He set up a photo of his target against the window frame, admiring her good looks, the well-stacked figure, the gleaming auburn hair. At times his job was hard. It was never easy killing a lovely woman, but money was money and there were plenty more beautiful women.
He saw a long, black limousine pull up in front of the Police Headquarters. It’s squat, dated shape proclaimed it to be a Zil, the model favoured by Russian government officials. This would be the one that was to collect Commander Dacic. His job was to ensure she didn’t reach the car. He checked the Kalashnikov. When he turned back to the window he blinked for a moment in surprise. The Zil limousine had been joined by two more.
A few minutes later the double doors of the Police Headquarters swung open and the woman strode out dressed in uniform. He recognized the auburn hair below the peaked cap and started to sight the Kalashnikov.
Almost at once he was distracted by movement in his peripheral vision. He straightened and stared in disbelief. He looked again. Another Commander Dacic with the same auburn hair had emerged. As he stared, mouth agape, a third Commander Dacic exited the headquarters. The trio stood like mannequins on a catwalk.
He was still gazing at them when a voice alongside him brought his wandering wits back into focus. ‘Dobera Den,’ (Good day,) Zena Dacic murmured. ‘Please raise your hands high above your head.’
Zena’s voice was persuasive to the point of seductive when she wanted but what really convinced him was the small, extremely ugly Makarov semi-automatic pistol she was holding against his temple. That ensured his unquestioning obedience.
chapter four
Lulu should have been frightened. But she was beyond fear, at least the fear the staff of Good Buys Supermarkets was trying to instil. They weren’t to know she didn’t understand their threats. More to the point, her ignorance rendered her unaware and unafraid of the consequences of her theft.
Even if she’d known, Lulu wouldn’t have been concerned. Lulu was an illegal immigrant, without passport or any identification. Within the past twenty-four hours she’d murdered three men. A charge of shoplifting would have frightened many youngsters. It would have hardly raised Lulu’s heart rate.
Unable to get any response, the manager rang the police. As the only female available, Mironova agreed to accompany the constable responding to the call.
‘I haven’t been able to get a word from her,’ the manager said irritably. Lulu sat motionless. She stared at a point between the uniformed policeman and a stack of boxes.
