Authors: Michael Hambling
Saturday, Week 2
Jennie arrived at the pub before Blossom, so she bought some drinks and took them across to a table in a quiet corner. She still hadn’t decided what her next move should be. How to go about finding out what Blossom knew? She saw him enter the bar and waved.
‘This one’s for you,’ she said. ‘It’s about time you started drinking the proper stuff, instead of that crappy lager.’
‘Feeling bossy, are you?’ he said.
‘Absolutely not. The exact opposite.’ She smoothed her ponytail. ‘Look Blossom, I’ve got something to tell you. I don’t really know how to say it, so I’m just going to go ahead anyway and sod the consequences. I expect you’ll get angry and walk out. It might be the end of our friendship.’ She took a gulp of beer.
‘I’ll save you the bother. You’re gonna tell me you’re Andy Thompson’s daughter.’
She stared at him. ‘What? How did you know?’
‘Lots of reasons. I knew your mum and you look just like her. She used to pull her hand through her ponytail just like you. And I’m not as stupid as I look. Ever since you moved in I’ve thought you reminded me of someone. There’s lots of other little things that you do as well, just like her. You’re obviously a bit of a goer, just like she was. And you kept asking about Charlie. Too often. But I didn’t know for sure until yesterday when you told me you were adopted. And that you’d been up to see your uncle in hospital. That’ll be Billy, won’t it?’
She nodded.
‘So he must have told you I knew your dad? You’ve known for a while?’
She nodded again.
‘What a fucking mess. Is he really dying? Your Uncle Billy, I mean.’
‘Lung cancer.’
‘So he wants to find out what happened to Andy, same as you do?’
‘Yes. Blossom, did you really know my mum?’ She reached across and gripped his hand. ‘Please? I know nothing about her. Uncle Billy said he didn’t know much about her either.’
‘Her name was Linda Stockwell. She died when you were born. Some kind of complications. Andy never got over it. You got put up for adoption and he just vanished for a long time. God knows what he did or where he went. I was down here by the time he surfaced, so Bobby Thompson put him in touch with me. But he’d frazzled his brain with drugs. There was no sense left in him. It was a fucking disaster.’
‘What about my mum?’ she held his hand tighter.
‘You get your brains from her, as well as your looks. She dropped out of college to live with Andy, but they were both wasted all the time. Never ate properly. She made an effort to get off the drugs when she was pregnant with you, and then it all went wrong.’
Jennie saw that his eyes were damp.
‘Were you in love with her yourself? You were, weren’t you?’
He clasped her hand, hard. ‘That’s why I feel the way I do about you, Jennie. It’s all too fucking weird. When I look at you, it’s like you’re her and I get those feelings again. But it’s also like I’m a kind of uncle to you. I keep having to tell myself I’m from their generation, not yours. It’s all too much and it scares me. And nothing scares Blossom Sourlie. I don’t do scared.’ He paused. ‘I really hated him.’
‘Who?’
‘Andy. Your father. Because he fucking ruined her with those drugs. It was him started her on them. He was the worst thing that could have happened to her. He was a total waster, and I could never understand what she saw in him.’ He sipped his drink. ‘I worshipped her, you know. I’d have done anything for her, anything. But I didn’t step in when I should have, and I’ve regretted it ever since.’
He sat silently, looking out of the window. He seemed very alone, and sad. Eventually he said, ‘So do you know what’s the most important thing in my life right now? Keeping you safe. ’Cause I’m guessing that you know a bit more than you’re letting on. I don’t want you meddling with the people you’re thinking of meddling with. They’re nastier than you could ever imagine. I could never forgive myself if something happened to you, not after I failed your mum.’
She reached across and touched his face. ‘Bless you, Blossom.’
He put his hand over hers, holding it to his cheek.
She thought for a while and then asked the question he’d been evading for days.
‘How does Charlie Duff fit into all this?’
‘Where do you think Andy got his drugs from all those years ago? Who do you think he came to for help when he came down here? Who do you think got him hooked again? And who got fed up when Andy mucked up his operations?’
‘So what happened to him?’
‘What do you think? These people are crazies, Jennie. They don’t behave like people do in the nice, neat, normal world. Andy disappeared. You can guess what that means.’ Blossom sighed. ‘I never saw him again, and I didn’t miss him because I hated him after what he did to your mum. Good fucking riddance, is what I thought then. And I don’t feel too different now, twenty years later.’
‘So Charlie Duff supplied the drugs that ruined my mother’s life and wasted my dad. He killed my dad when he wasn’t useful any more. And you don’t want me to meddle? Why haven’t you been to the police with all this?’
Blossom didn’t answer.
‘Are you implicated somehow? Were you involved?’
‘I was a business partner in the company that fronted the operations. Me, Hazel, Charlie and Ricky, their nephew. I’m too involved, Jennie. The cops would hang me out to dry. Especially now. I did all the running about for them for years. I know their secrets, so yes, I’m implicated in it all. My mind keeps going round in circles, looking for a way out. But I can’t see one.’
‘Look. Let’s eat some lunch and get another drink. I need to get to grips with everything you’ve told me. I feel kind of elated. I’m just so glad to have the truth after all these years.’
Neither of them had much appetite. They picked at their food in silence.
‘Blossom, are you in any danger from them?’
‘What do you think? They’re vicious animals and I’ve walked out on them. I know too much. I don’t know how much longer I’m gonna be safe around here. They’ll be looking for me and if they find me, I’m a goner.’
‘Wouldn’t you be safer away from this area?’
‘They don’t know about the flat. I kept that to myself. They’re all based over in Poole. But you’re right, it’s too close for comfort. I’ve got one more week on this job, then when it finishes I’ll have to get away. But I don’t know where, unless I go back to the Midlands, but I lost all my old contacts years ago. So where can I go? I’m no good at scheming, Jennie. I left that to Hazel and Charlie. I just do what I’m told, and I like it that way.’
‘Well, look. Once you’ve finished this job with Roy, he should be able to give you a reference. That means you’ve got a foot in the door. He might know of an opening somewhere else, away from here. Why not ask him? If you do move away, will you keep the flat?’
‘I suppose so. Haven’t really thought about it. It all scares me. I just don’t like change. It screws my brain up.’
* * *
‘How the fuck am I meant to contact you then?’ Ricky was furious, spitting beer as he spoke. ‘If you decided to fuck off out of it I could be left carrying the can for everything.’
‘Sit down, you pillock. Just use my mobile number, but watch what you say, in case it’s being monitored.’ Charlie Duff sighed. His erratic nephew was proving to be a real problem. Hazel had always handled him so well. ‘I’m just not taking any chances. I haven’t been home since they called at your place last Sunday, and I’m not going back there anytime soon. They’ve got a car watching your house, probably mine as well.’
‘How could they be on to you? There’s nothing to connect us, is there?’
‘If they do enough digging, they might find something. And that blonde bitch worries me. I told her Hazel’s name. It was fucking stupid of me, but I can’t unsay it now.’
‘I still can’t see it.’
‘God, you’re fucking thick. The name of the house, you prick. It’s our names. Hazel loved doing anagrams. Anyway, I’m not taking any chances, so I’m staying away from the place and using my flat instead. You need more help here, so it kills two birds. But I have to keep everything else ticking over as well. I can’t be here all the time. That fucker Blossom may think he’s ruined everything by walking out, but it’s not gonna happen.’
‘Can you bring someone else in?’
‘Yeah. I’ve got someone lined up, but I’m using him to find Blossom at the moment. Once we’ve dealt with him we’ll be laughing again.’ He took a swig of his beer. ‘We’re getting closer. We know the area he’s living in. He’s been seen out with a bird. I’ve just got to figure out a way to do it.’
‘When do we move into town and start working the girls?’
‘I need a couple more days to get the place ready. I thought I told you that?’
‘It’s just that they’re talking to each other. We don’t know what they’re saying unless Barbu is in with them.’
‘They always talk, Ricky. All the girls we’ve brought in have done that.’
‘No, this is different. Smiffy’s worried. He’s the one who noticed it. He reckons it’s because that one escaped. It’s given the others ideas.’
* * *
Catalina was talking to Sorina in the locked living room, trying to keep up her spirits.
‘Where do you come from, Sorina?’
‘Timisoara. And Nadia. Nadia is older than me. I had only just left school, and I had a job in a café near the hotel where Nadia worked. She came into the café sometimes and we became friends. She found me a job in the hotel and we used to talk about our plans for the future. When they came and told us that we could work and study in England, we were so happy about it. Where were you living?’
‘Arad. Each one of us is from a different town or village, but all in the west, near the border with Hungary. Only you and Nadia came from the same town and knew each other. I think they like for us not to know each other. It makes it easier for them when we are not friends. I overheard Barbu saying it to the dead boy.’
‘But why did they bring Nadia and me, then? We worked together in the hotel. They knew that.’
‘You are both young, and you look alike, both small, slim and blonde. You could be sisters. I think they maybe had a plan for you both. That changed when Nadia escaped. And her escape is why we have moved so much, I’m sure. They have been in a panic.’
‘Do you think she is safe? I hope she is, and is trying to find us. She is such a good person. My mother would only let me come because Nadia was going to be with me. She trusted Nadia to look after me.’
‘I’m sure she is trying, Sorina. If she has gone to the police, then they will all be looking for us. And she knows how bad they can be. She was the first one that two of them raped. She will not rest until we are safe, I’m sure of it.’
‘But how will they understand her? She doesn’t speak English. None of us do. That was the thing that puzzled my mother. It is obvious now. They are going to put us onto the streets as whores, and we cannot talk to anyone. So how will Nadia speak about us?’
Catalina did not reply. Sorina stood up and walked to the window.
‘Even if we escape, Catalina, where will we go? I haven’t seen anyone since we arrived here. We could die out there.’
‘I don’t think we would. England is a much smaller country than Romania, but it has more people. It is a very crowded land. I learned that in my job. An English lady told me that you are never far from a village or town, wherever you are. At least I think that is what she said.’
‘Do you speak a little English, then?’ Sorina said.
‘Yes, but keep quiet about it. Those men don’t know.’
‘Do any of the other girls?’ Sorina glanced back at the other three, all watching a music video channel on TV.
‘No. Sorina, you must have realised. They are all farm girls. I worry about them, because I see them beginning to accept this new life. I heard Elisabeta talking at breakfast. She said that there will be plenty of money for us. And drugs to keep us happy. You see? They are already beginning to accept what that pig Barbu has been telling them. You and I must be careful what we say and what we do. I wonder if they have only brought peasant girls before. So why did they bring you, me and Nadia? What were their plans for us? And have they changed since Nadia went? I think about it at night.’
Chapter 24: Death in the Gardens
Sunday Afternoon, Week 2
A young man wearing black trousers and a dark hooded jacket sat in his car, his eyes never leaving the building across the road. He saw the short, squat shape of Blossom Sourlie leave the building accompanied by a woman with a ponytail. He took his mobile phone from his pocket and made a call. He waited until the pair were out of sight, then slid out of the car and made his way to the front door. He chose an entry button at random and spoke into the microphone.
‘I’ve got some presents for Mr Sourlie. He’s left me a key for his flat but I’ve forgotten the flat number and the main door’s entry code. Have I got the right address?’
He listened to the reply.
‘I’m his cousin,’ he said. ‘I’m just back from six months abroad with the navy. It’s some stuff that needs to go straight into his fridge. Could you buzz me in, please?’
He waited, then opened the door and made for the stairs. He took them two at a time, glancing around as he climbed. No one came out of their doors and no one passed him. Blossom’s flat was a loft conversion, the only one on the top floor. The man took a small implement from his pocket and started probing the lock. A couple of minutes later he was inside the small apartment, and looking around the rooms. This wouldn’t take long. Any address book, diary or notebook, Charlie Duff had said. Group photos and snapshots. Anything that might point the finger at Blossom’s erstwhile partners.
The man was soon out of the flat. There hadn’t been much to find. Duff had told him Blossom wasn’t a big writer. An address book, a couple of notebooks but no photos. He was back in his car and away in minutes.
* * *
Blossom and Jennie meandered slowly along a footpath towards the town centre and the seafront. Few other people had ventured out, despite the occasional patches of blue sky. They stopped at an ice cream van, then walked a little further before sitting down on a bench to talk.
‘I needed some fresh air,’ she said. ‘I’ve been working all morning on a report. It’s left me feeling muzzy-headed.’
She licked her ice cream.
‘There’s still stuff you haven’t told me about Charlie Duff, Blossom. And I still think you should get the police involved somehow. He needs to be dealt with, surely?’
‘If there was a way, I’d do it. I’ve been thinking of waiting till I finish this job at the end of the week. With a bit of luck I’ll be off somewhere else after that, so I’ll contact them after I’ve gone.’
He sounded despondent.
‘What is the problem, Blossom? Surely the police will do some kind of deal with you? And it’s not as though you’ve done anything too bad is it, from what you’ve said? He’s the one who supplied the drugs and killed my father, not you.’
She looked at him, but he refused to meet her eye.
‘What haven’t you told me, Blossom? I’ve been thinking about it since yesterday, when you said they were animals. How bad are these people?’
‘It gets about as bad as it can get. I’d be looking at spending most of the rest of my life in the clink. Don’t you think I want to make a clean break? Fuck, of course I do. But that’s too high a price.’
She stiffened. ‘What do you mean, it gets as bad as it can get? What exactly has he been doing? Drugs? Assault? Murder? Rape? What?’
He spoke quietly. ‘All of those. We’ve been running in girls from Romania and selling them on for work on the streets.’
‘You’ve been trafficking women? Christ, Blossom. What kind of warped people are you? And what do you mean, all of those? What else have you done?’ She looked into his face. He continued to look down. She’d seen the TV news about the women who’d been smuggled across to the farm near Poole Harbour. And the horrific discovery made by the police there. ‘Oh no. Not those girls’ bodies in Studland. Oh, Jesus. Not you, Blossom. No.’
She stood up.
‘I didn’t know, Jennie,’ he whispered. ‘I only found out about them a few days ago. That’s why I quit.’
But she’d already grabbed her bag and was moving away. Blossom didn’t try to stop her.
Jennie walked away, tears blinding her eyes. Her only contact with her parents. A man who’d known and loved her mother, and what had he turned out to be? Evil, evil, evil. Had anything he’d told her even been true? She walked on, thoughts whirling in her mind. She heard a faint popping noise behind her, but it didn’t register at first. Then something made her turn and look back. Blossom was lying on the ground, sprawled across the path. She caught sight of some dark figures disappearing up a path behind the bushes.
She ran back. She crouched down by his body and held his hand, but she knew it was too late. It had always been too late.
Chapter 25: The Two Daughters Meet
Late Sunday Afternoon
As a child Nadia had been told the story of Pandora’s Box. It made so much sense now. Evil, once unleashed, can never be put back, never unlearned, never un-experienced. She was safe. She was in a secure house with her mother, under constant guard. But she couldn’t escape her memories. Only one thing made her get out of bed early each morning. Her friend DCI Sophie called in every day on her way into work. She’d tried to get Nadia to call her just Sophie, but the teenager was too much in awe of her. She copied the other police officers, and called her ma’am or chief inspector. This sounded right to her, though she always followed her formal greeting with a hug and a cup of tea for her rescuer and heroine.
Nadia told Sophie about her recurring memories, and how difficult it was to cope with them. Sophie said, ‘Nadia, it is life. It’s what it means to be human. Your experiences have been worse than most, but you must not let the memories take over. You must master your experiences, not let them master you.’
But Sophie arranged for a counsellor to visit Nadia. She and her mother had regular visits from a young Romanian woman interpreter, but she struggled to put into words the anguish Nadia was feeling. Nadia now understood that she would come through this in time. But she slept fitfully and was troubled by constant flashbacks.
Most of all she worried for Sorina. She had promised Sorina’s mother that she would look after her. How was the fragile young girl coping with the ordeal? It was almost too much to bear, sitting in this house and imagining Sorina’s pain.
It was a relief to go out and visit Jade for a few hours. She and her mother were now enjoying tea and cakes in the Allens’ lounge. Nadia had shown her mother the small guest room where she’d slept the previous weekend. She was now chatting with Jade, in her limited English, about the latest fashion trends.
* * *
Sophie’s mobile phone rang and she left the room to answer it.
‘Hi, Kevin.’
‘Sophie, there’s been a fatal shooting in the central gardens. We think it’s your man, Blossom.’
Sophie was at the scene within half an hour. She ran across to the group of detectives standing with Kevin McGreedie.
‘Blossom Sourlie,’ he said. ‘Single gunshot wound to the head. The woman witness said all she heard was a popping noise, so they must have used a silencer. She was about a hundred yards away, but didn’t see the actual shooting. She says she was walking away from him at the time.’
Sophie looked down at the body. It was the short, powerfully-built man she’d met at Brookway Farm.
‘How did you know it was Blossom Sourlie?’ she asked.
‘The woman knows him. Her name’s Jennie Brown. She lives in the flat below his, and was with him until just before the shooting. They had an ice cream, and she left him to walk back to her place. Then it happened. She says that she just caught sight of some figures heading up the path there.’ He pointed to some steps leading up behind a shrubbery to the road above. ‘It’s all taped off. The forensic squad should be here soon.’
‘Where is she?’
‘In my car with one of the local bobbies. She’s a bit hysterical and wants to go home, but I’ve kept her here. I’ll come with you.’
The two detectives walked back across the gardens. The car’s windows were misted over, obscuring the features of the woman sitting in the back.
‘Thanks, Kevin. I’ll take it from here if you don’t mind,’ Sophie said.
She climbed into the front passenger seat and turned to speak to the woman. She stared at her, aghast. What was going on? She got out of the car and walked across to a fence that surrounded the gardens. Her mind was reeling. She gripped the handrail as if she was about to fall over a precipice.
Get a grip, Sophie, she told herself. McGreedie had turned and was beginning to walk back towards her, and she waved him away. She took a deep breath and returned to the car.
‘So we meet again. It’s a bit of a cliché, I know, but seeing you here has taken me by surprise. It can’t be chance, can it?’
‘Sorry? I don’t understand,’ the young woman said.
‘We met briefly last week. I passed you in the ward at Wolverhampton hospital. I was leaving and you were coming in. You were doing what you’re doing now, pulling your fingers through your ponytail. You were wearing the same coat.’
‘Christ. I can’t cope with all this.’
‘You need to tell me what’s going on. Jennie, isn’t it? Look, I’m nearly as shocked as you.’ She paused. ‘Do you live close by?’
Jennie nodded. ‘It’s only a couple of hundred yards further on. He lived in the flat above me.’
‘Okay, let’s walk. The fresh air will do you good, and I certainly need it.’
They got out of the car. Sophie asked one of the uniformed constables to follow them. Then she took Jennie’s arm in a firm grip and started walking.
‘Jennie, I need to know what’s behind this. I know what you’ve told my colleague, but there’s more, isn’t there? You were on your way in to visit Billy Thompson at the end of last week. He was in a room by himself, so there was no other reason for you to have been there. I’ve been wondering about you on and off since then. And you just happen to be here when that man Blossom gets killed. What’s the connection?’
‘I think he was killed by someone called Charlie Duff. Blossom told me that he’d walked out on Duff’s gang a week ago.’
Sophie was still reeling. She forced herself to speak. ‘Okay, but that doesn’t explain why you were visiting Thompson last week.’
‘He’s my uncle. And I think Charlie Duff killed my father.’
‘Your father?’ Sophie stopped walking and gripped Jennie’s arm so tightly that the younger woman winced. ‘Your father? Andy Thompson?’
‘Yes. I never knew him, or my mother. As I told Blossom, I was adopted at birth. I only found out about my birth family six months ago when Uncle Billy contacted me. He’d just been told he had terminal cancer, and he decided to trace me. Last week was only the third time I’d met him.’
‘And he wanted to know what had happened to his brother, so he was using you to find out. Was it him that suggested you use Blossom as a lead?’
By now they’d arrived at the apartment block. A police car was parked across the entrance, and a constable was hurrying out of the front entrance. Sophie stopped him and asked what was going on.
‘His flat’s been broken into, ma’am,’ he said. ‘We’ve only just discovered it.’
Sophie checked that the door to Jennie’s flat was still secure. She ushered Jennie inside and told her to remain there with the constable until she returned. She ran upstairs to Blossom’s apartment. Drawers and cupboards had been left open, and their contents strewn over the floor.
Sophie returned to Jennie’s flat. She sent the uniformed officer outside.
Jennie seemed to have calmed down. She offered Sophie a mug of tea, although her hand shook as she pushed it across the table.
‘Can we start again please, Jennie? From the beginning? Tell me a little about yourself. Try to relax if you can, although I realise it might be difficult.’
‘I’m thirty-four. I’m an accountant with an insurance firm in Ringwood, and I’ve lived in the area for almost ten years, but not in this flat. I was adopted as a baby in Birmingham. I never knew who my birth parents were, and didn’t want to know because my adoptive parents were so good to me.’ She wiped her eyes with a tissue and blew her nose. ‘We moved to Southampton when I was about five. I never bothered with my past because I was so happy with my parents. I did some checking about ten years ago, but got nowhere, so I left it alone. Then about six months ago I got a message from someone claiming to be my uncle. He said he was my father’s half-brother, and had known about me but had never bothered to trace me. Now he was dying he thought we should meet, and that I might want to help find out what had happened to my father. Apparently they’d lost contact many years ago. I thought about it for quite a long time before deciding what to do. In the end I went to visit him and he told me that my birth father’s name was Andy Thompson. They hadn’t got on at all well, so Andy had left the Midlands and come down to the South Coast area. He’d made one brief trip back for a family Christmas party and then vanished. On that visit he told them he’d met up with Blossom again. Blossom had once been a friend of one of my other uncles.’
She took a sip of tea.