Death Trap (12 page)

Authors: Dreda Say Mitchell

‘I see that young Samson has caught your eye,’ Strong said. ‘After his last offence, an unprovoked attack on a girl in a bar, Sam – that’s what everyone calls him – was warned by the court that he was looking at a custodial sentence but that was pending reports. They sent the kid for psychiatric tests and the shrink concluded that he has an unhealthy obsession with guns and violence and needed urgent and prolonged treatment. The psych – get this – thinks the kid’s a bit of a genius.’ Strong scoffed, ‘Like anyone in that family has more than two brain cells to put together. Anyway the court put him on probation and ordered him to attend anger-management counselling.’

‘Let’s see if we can land unannounced on his doorstep as well,’ Rio said, the excitement of knowing that they may have the lead she’d finally been after giving her an energy boost.

‘That’s where our problems start. A couple of weeks ago, Samson began skipping appointments with the doctor and probation service so the local police went round there to see what was happening. According to his father, Terry, the kid had gone abroad and got a job but they had no contact details for him. According to Dad, he’s in Spain. But the local cops have been keeping an eye on the family’s phones and there are no calls from Spain or anywhere else. So there’s a warrant out for Samson’s arrest.’

‘When did he disappear?’

Strong smiled. ‘All the evidence suggests he did a runner a couple of days after raid number five, when the newly wed was killed. Let’s target Gary Larkin because I suspect he’ll be the easiest one to break. He doesn’t sound anywhere near as savvy as his big brother.’

‘Do we have an address for him?’

Strong shook his head. ‘I’ll get onto it. Then we can pick him up.’

‘We’re going to do this properly—’

Strong stared at her, not able to hold his anger back. ‘I’m getting a bit sick and tired of you implying I’m some kind of loose cannon—’

Rio grabbed his arm. ‘Shut up and listen up. We don’t have any solid evidence. Sure, we’ve got a lead, but we need to play this by the book. And prioritise. Priority number one is making sure that Nikki and her family are safe. I need to persuade them to have a protection duty. Then I need to talk to my CI.’ She knew Calum would hate being pegged as a confidential informant after his years being an officer, but she wasn’t ready yet to let anyone know he was her source. ‘To see if he’s got any other info on this hit.’

Strong hitched up his eyebrows. ‘I know it’s not my place to ask who your CI is—’

‘You’ve got that right,’ Rio snapped. Just thinking about Calum filled her head with the image of her in a cream dress holding his hand. She got rid of the memory as quickly as it had come. ‘And double-check again with the hospital about the knife.’

Rio got out of the car. Before she shut the door, she hesitated, then half-turned to Strong and muttered, ‘Good work.’

‘Speak up, I can’t hear you.’

Rio slammed the door, his dry laughter following her as she walked towards the Bells’ front door.

fifteen

5:11 p.m.

Rio hesitated before knocking on the Bells’ front door because of the raised voices she could hear inside: female voices – Nikki and her mother. She couldn’t make out what they were saying, but their voices were getting higher and higher.

She pulled the knocker back.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Three knocks should get their attention. Silence, then the sound of feet coming towards the door; Patsy Bell opened the door.

Her face was a deep red, like she’d been running a race, and there were dark circles carved under her eyes.

‘We’ve been advised not to speak to you.’ Patsy Bell’s voice was clipped, anxious; her fingers pale as they clutched the door. No chunky bracelets this time.

‘Please,’ Rio responded softly. She couldn’t help but feel sympathy for this woman, but she had a job to do. ‘A few moments of your time is all I’m asking for.’

Indecision played across the other woman’s face. Then she pulled the door open and stepped back. Rio walked inside. The Bells’ home was on a much smaller scale than her dead brother-in-law’s. And the scattering of footwear in a corner of the slim hallway and the jumble of coats on a wooden rail mounted on the wall gave it a more lived-in feel. Rio followed Nikki’s mother into a lounge where Frank Bell sat tense on a comfy single sofa, his facial skin the shade of someone who’d been living in the dark for a week. Nikki sat, back bent forwards like a cat ready to spring for freedom through any opened door, on a matching two-seater.

Frank Bell got to his feet. He didn’t have to open his mouth for Rio to know he wasn’t pleased to see her.

‘We can’t talk to you,’ he said, repeating his wife’s words.

Rio caught Nikki’s eye. Then the teenager dropped her gaze as her back slumped and she seemed to shrink further into the settee.

‘Can we talk?’ Rio lifted her chin slightly in Nikki’s direction. ‘In private?’

A worried look passed between the other two adults. Then, arms wrapped around her middle, Patsy spoke to her daughter.

‘Honey, we need you to go up to your room.’

The girl’s face tilted defiantly to the side. ‘Why?’

‘Don’t argue with me, young lady, just do it.’

Nikki threw her legs over the front of the sofa, but made no move to follow the instruction. ‘It was me some guy slapped around in the hospital, so I’ve got a right to hear what she’s got—’

Her mother stepped threatening towards her. ‘If you don’t do what I’ve just requested, I’m—’

‘What?’ Now Nikki stormed to her feet. ‘You going to slap me as well?’

‘Nicola.’ Her father’s tone was hard.

The teenager swung her gaze between all the adults in the room, finally settling on staring daggers at her mother. ‘Auntie Linda always said that you treated me too much like a baby.’ Her chest heaved. ‘I wish she was still alive and you were—’

‘Don’t say it,’ Rio cut in gently, but with enough threat for the girl to understand she was crossing a line.

Nikki’s cracked breathing sounded high in the room. The heat of her emotions flushed her face. She gave her mother one last long stare, then swept out of the room.

‘I’m sorry about that,’ Patsy said looking embarrassed.

‘Nicola’s behaving in a pretty understandable way considering all that’s she’s been through. Is it Stephen Foster who’s instructed you not to speak to the Police?’

That
look passed between the other two again. This time the answer came from Frank. ‘He says we just need to be really careful because . . .’ He inhaled deeply before carrying on. ‘You might accuse our daughter of being involved—’

‘Whoo!’ Rio said in alarm as she placed her palm flat in the air. ‘There’s no suggestion that Nikki had anything to do with this.’

‘But Mr Foster says he’s had cases like that before,’ Frank carried on in a strident voice. ‘Where the innocent end up as the accused.’

‘Please,’ Rio interjected. ‘We know that Nikki isn’t involved because the way the crime happened points straight to the Greenbelt Gang. Plus someone tried to kill her in the hospital.’ Rio was a straight talker, so she told them most of what she’d found out. ‘I think there’s a hitman trying to kill your daughter.’

The girl’s parents both gasped.

‘Why?’ Patsy’s voice shook.

‘The gang obviously didn’t know she was there—’

A two-beat knock sounded from the front door. Frank Bell started to leave the room, but Rio’s voice stopped him. She placed a finger across her lip, demanding silence. Then she slowly moved close up to Patsy Bell.

Whispered in her ear, ‘Can I get to the front of the house from the back?’

The other woman nodded. ‘Through the dining room.’ She pointed to a door in the far corner of the room.

The knock at the door came again. Harder. Louder.

Rio rushed into the dining room, bypassed the long table, towards the closed French doors. Turned the long, brass handle which opened into the conservatory and moved quickly to the set of doors at the end. Opened. The cold air bunched in her face as she stepped out into the garden. The garden was covered in the growing dark of a February day turning into early evening and the scent of roses perfumed the air. The ground wasn’t soft beneath her shoes. Hard with grooves; probably some type of decking she guessed. Rio placed her hand on the grainy, bumpy brick of the wall. Slid it along as she moved. Stopped when she hit the corner. A faint light from the neighbours gave her a dim view of a long walkway, with a brown recycling bin midway down. Silently she lengthened her stride as she headed for the wooden door at the end, reached it and with the pads of her fingers lifted the black, cold latch and pulled back.

The breath caught in her throat when she was confronted with the silhouette of someone standing right in front of her. Without hesitation, she unleashed a power punch to the throat, then backed it up with a right hook to the face. The person crumpled to the ground.

Nikki sat on the last step of the landing on the second floor listening.

‘You could’ve broken my nose. You’ve used violent force against me once already today.’

‘Thought a lawyer like you would be used to taking a jab or two.’

The lawyer and the cop were getting into a hissy-fit with each other.

‘If you had been as attentive in your duty to protect my client at the hospital no one would have been able to attack her right under your nose.’

‘This family need around-the-clock twenty-four–seven protection. If someone tried to attack Nicola today you can bet that they’re going to try to finish the job.’

Gasp.
Sounded like Mum. Nikki felt a bit bad for laying into her before. She knew that Mum only wanted to keep her safe.

‘So why aren’t you out there on the streets trying to apprehend them?’

‘My team is. I wanted to make sure that this family remains safe. I’ve reassured Nikki’s parents that she is not under suspicion. Mr and Mrs Bell, the only way we can do that is to give you protection.’

‘Like the guard you posted at the hospital?’

The lawyer was getting in the cop’s face again.

‘I don’t take my orders from you, Foster. These parents want to keep their daughter out of harm’s reach and they know that our protection is the only way.’

Silence. Nikki inched her head out further.

‘OK.’

Dad this time.

‘Stephen, she’s our only child and we waited a long time to have her.’

‘I fully understand. But Detective Inspector I’m going to make it my business to make sure you’re removed from this case.’

‘Do what you’ve got to do. Mr and Mrs Bell, make sure your daughter doesn’t speak about this to anyone.’

Nikki jumped up when she heard the footsteps in the hallway downstairs and slipped quietly into her room. These adults were getting on her nerves, big time – wanting her to do this; wanting her to do that. Always pushing and pulling her this way and that, until she thought her life was way out of her control. That was some messed-up shit with the guy in the hospital. Freaked her totally out. But she wasn’t scared anymore; she could look after herself.

Nikki moved across the bedroom to the black bureau where she kept her undies and accessories. She pulled open the second drawer, took out the pair of fingerless gloves cousin Lia had given her earlier and put them on. Nikki admired them on herself for a few seconds, then moved to the cabinet near her bed and grabbed her mini iPad; the cops didn’t realise that she had a second one, which she called Baby Hamlet 2. Then she reopened the door and propped herself, cross-legged, near the radiator in the corridor under the attic door. For some reason she’d always found this spot in the house a place she could think. She flipped the iPad’s lid up and was on the Yakkety-Yak site in less than a minute.

Madam B:
Someone tried to kill me today.

se15:
Yeah sure and my name is Leonardo Di Caprio.

Madam B:
Well Leo – hahaha – this is for real.

se15:
What’s going on?

Madam B:
Can’t say. But some guy packing needles and a shooter tried to take me down in the hospital.

se15:
Hospital!?!?
?

Madam B:
I’m ok.
?

Nikki’s fingers stopped typing.

‘Make sure your daughter doesn’t speak about this to anyone.’

Her teeth played in her bottom lip. She knew she shouldn’t say anything . . .

Madam B:
Aunt and uncle dead. Cleaner as well.

se15:
Stop messing me around.