‘He was in prison?’ Ostrowsky’s surprise seemed genuine.
‘We’ll take that as a no,’ said Brook.
Ostrowsky shook his head. ‘What did he do?’
‘A minor conviction,’ said Brook, unwilling to gift information to a suspect. ‘A short period of custody ensued.’
‘Vehicle theft, by any chance?’ insinuated Patterson.
‘And how was Jake doing in his new job?’ asked Brook, ignoring Patterson’s jibe.
‘Good,’ said Ostrowsky. ‘He worked hard. Didn’t miss a day until the morning you called.’
‘He was trying to impress?’
‘I suppose so.’
‘Stealing Max’s van can’t have impressed you,’ said Brook.
‘
My
van,’ corrected Ostrowsky. ‘Max borrowed it for his work.’
‘Would Jake have made that distinction?’
‘Sorry?’
‘Would Jake have known it was your van and not Max’s?’
‘Possibly, no. Possibly, yes. You’ll have to ask him.’
‘We intend to,’ said Noble.
‘Two weeks is not a lot of time to develop a grudge,’ said Brook.
‘Grudge?’
‘Well, he stole your van to dump a body. Why would he do that?’
‘Just a wild guess, Inspector, but after committing a murder, I’d suggest Mr Tanner was desperate,’ said Patterson. ‘He knew my clients. He might have found out where the van would be overnight and took it. Seems obvious.’
‘Who knows why people do what they do?’ added Ostrowsky, his cold eyes boring into Brook’s. ‘Maybe Jake didn’t know the van belonged to me. Maybe he stole it because he saw it and he’s a thief. He and his brother lived no more than three hundred metres from Arboretum Street.’
Brook looked up. ‘You know where Jake and his brother live.’
‘Of course my client knows,’ said Patterson, haughtily. ‘The address would be on all the references, and they’d need it for payroll.’
‘It’s one thing to have someone’s address,’ said Brook. ‘Quite another to know where it is, especially if you’re new to Derby.’
‘I’m not so new, but you’re right,’ said Ostrowsky. ‘I didn’t know until last night. When I saw Jake was involved, it became my business to know, so I looked at a map.’
‘So when we visited you at Bar Polski yesterday morning and you became agitated at the non-appearance of a staff member,’ said Brook, ‘that was Jake.’ Ostrowsky nodded.
‘Quite a show of temper,’ said Noble. ‘Did you treat him badly?’
‘He was new,’ shrugged Ostrowsky. ‘He seemed good at his job. That’s it. My show of temper is exactly that – a show. I’m a businessman, so I show my people I mean business to make them work hard for my benefit; for theirs too.’ He leaned forward, wagging a finger. ‘And I pay good money for good people. You can ask.’
‘I believe you,’ said Brook. ‘I’m told you inspired great loyalty when you were trading in South-East Asia.’
Ostrowsky’s expression turned to pure ice. He toyed with an answer, choosing instead to glance across to his solicitor.
‘Is there any relevance to that remark, Inspector?’ said Patterson. ‘If you’re suggesting some past impropriety, then I must strongly object. My clients are EU nationals and the fact that they’re here in this country is evidence of their good character.’
‘I’m heartened.’
‘I really don’t like your tone,’ said Patterson.
‘Don’t leave without a complaint form,’ replied Brook.
‘It’s okay,’ said Ostrowsky, holding out a hand to Patterson. ‘We’re grown men. And the inspector must be under pressure to get results. Are we finished?’
‘Let’s talk about Jake’s brother Nick,’ said Noble. ‘Sources have told us they were inseparable. In fact, Jake had trouble getting permanent work because he often had to take Nick with him.’
Ostrowsky nodded. ‘Yes. I told your colleague last night. He seemed a pleasant young man. He was around for a day or two when Jake started work, but I didn’t speak to him.’
‘What about you?’ said Brook, addressing Max.
Max shook his head. ‘I don’t go to bar. I work.’
‘You’re on the payroll.’
‘Please?’
‘Max fixed the wiring,’ said Ostrowsky. ‘Most of the work has been done, but he’s on retainer.’
‘Must be nice for you, working in a bar,’ said Noble.
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ said Patterson.
‘We understand from our Polish colleagues that Max likes a drink or two after a hard day,’ said Noble.
‘If you have no sensible questions to ask, we’ll leave,’ said Patterson.
‘It’s okay,’ said Max, staring coldly at Noble before breaking into a huge grin. ‘Sure. But I can’t afford to drink Bar Polski. I go pub if I need.’
‘Is that because Bar Polski doesn’t employ any female staff?’ asked Brook.
‘Female staff?’ queried Patterson.
‘Girls,’ said Brook drily. ‘We’re also given to understand that when Max has had a few drinks, he has a liking for young women.’
‘Women around twenty years of age, according to the files we’ve seen,’ added Noble, glancing at a document.
Max stared at his brother for a translation, but Ostrowsky just smiled quietly at Brook.
‘May I see?’ said Patterson. Noble slid the sheet across to him.
‘Quick work, Inspector,’ said Ostrowsky. ‘But those . . . situations were very minor and my brother was released without charge.’
‘Lucky you were around to help,’ said Brook. ‘Did money change hands, by any chance?’
‘That remark is uncalled for!’ snapped Patterson, pushing the paper away. ‘These arrests were clearly without foundation.’
‘How do you know?’
‘Because
neither
of my clients has a criminal record,’ said Patterson. ‘And frankly I find your insinuations insulting.’
‘Why don’t you employ female staff?’ Brook asked Ostrowsky.
‘Why do you ask?’ said Patterson.
‘I’m just curious,’ said Brook. ‘If you open a Polish bar and restaurant, it seems reasonable to hire Polish staff – for authenticity.’
‘Bar Polski isn’t open for business yet,’ said Ostrowsky. ‘When the kitchen is ready, we advertise for cooks and waitresses next week. Then we hire girls.’
‘Don’t you have cleaners?’ asked Noble.
‘Not yet,’ said Ostrowsky.
‘With all that building work going on?’ said Brook. ‘Must get very messy.’
‘The builders are Polish, not British,’ grinned Ostrowsky. ‘They clean up after.’
‘Perhaps Jake had a Polish girlfriend who came to visit him there,’ suggested Noble.
‘I didn’t see Jake with any girl,’ said Ostrowsky. ‘Or Nick.’
‘What about the building workers?’
‘They work for me before and know very well not to mix business with pleasure.’
‘What about you?’
‘Me?’
‘You’re a successful businessman . . . and single,’ said Brook. Ostrowsky narrowed his eyes. ‘It would be perfectly natural if you sought a relationship with an attractive younger woman.’
‘I don’t have time,’ said Ostrowsky. ‘My brother and I work too hard.’
‘The victim was Polish, wasn’t she?’ said Patterson. ‘Why else all these questions about girlfriends and female staff?’
‘We’re exploring all angles,’ said Brook.
‘And the emerging picture we have of Jake and his brother seems to exclude women,’ said Noble.
‘So we’re looking for ways Jake’s path may have intersected with the opposite sex.’
‘Ever thought they just plucked her off the street, Inspector?’ suggested Patterson. ‘Maybe that’s what the van was for.’
‘I’m sure that’s it,’ said Brook. ‘Bad business, though. Did we mention the victim was pregnant?’
Max looked up and then across at his brother before resuming his examination of the floor, while Ostrowsky sat in silent contemplation before shaking his head. ‘That is tragic,’ he said. ‘I had no idea.’ He glanced at Patterson.
‘I think we’ve taken this about as far as we can, Inspector,’ said Patterson, standing.
‘One more thing,’ said Brook. ‘We’ve found genetic material in the vehicle and need a control sample to eliminate your clients from our enquiries.’
‘That won’t be happening,’ said Patterson, fastening his briefcase. ‘Certainly not on a voluntary basis after the hostile way you’ve conducted this interview. I suggest you test the sample against Jake Tanner’s DNA that you’ll have on file. In the event that it doesn’t match, get a warrant.
‘Mr Ostrowsky told me he made it clear to you that he doesn’t drive and consequently has never set foot in any of his vans, so any request for
his
DNA is nothing short of a fishing expedition. As for Max, you’d expect his DNA to be in the vehicle, so if you find a second sample, feel free to ask again, otherwise go through channels. Good afternoon, gentlemen.’
Ostrowsky was the last to leave, and as he passed Banach, he mumbled something at her in Polish.
‘Thank you for coming in, sir,’ said Banach to his retreating back.
‘What was that?’ Brook asked her when the Ostrowskys were gone.
‘He said, “Only a whore of Satan would work to harm her own people.”’
‘Clever,’ said Brook. ‘Trying to get a reaction.’
‘And you played dumb,’ said Noble.
‘Yeah, I really had to work at it.’
‘Think he knew?’ asked Noble.
‘I don’t see how,’ said Banach. ‘He just took a punt. I suspect he’s a bit of an old hand at this kind of stuff.’
‘You wouldn’t be wrong,’ said Brook. ‘What do you think?’
‘I think Greg is ice cold,’ said Noble. ‘They didn’t drink the tea or even touch the cups. And notice how he kept hold of Max’s unlit cigarette. Smart.’
‘Constable?’
‘Agreed,’ said Banach, surprised to be asked. ‘He’s charming and ruthless, but one thing he couldn’t hide. When you said the victim was pregnant, his neck flushed. He was uncomfortable. They both were.’
Twenty-Four
An hour later, the incident room fizzed with conversation, fed by the exhaustion of some of the occupants. Brook, Noble, Cooper and Morton, who’d missed two nights’ sleep, were bleary-eyed but sharp of mind in that perverse way fatigue sometimes produced. Eventually the crash would come, delayed for now by caffeine, nicotine and empty stomachs. The relatively fresh Smee and Read compared notes, while Banach sat quietly in the rear gazing at the display boards containing the pictures and potted histories of the six missing women.
The incident room door swung open and in strode the squat figure of Chief Superintendent Mark Charlton, walking self-consciously towards Brook and Noble, trying to ignore the dip in noise levels.
‘The Tanners?’ demanded Charlton.
‘We’re doing all we can,’ said Noble, his expression betraying the lack of progress.
‘And PC Ryan?’
‘Should make a full recovery,’ said Brook.
‘Good to know,’ replied Charlton, heaving an ostentatious sigh of relief in front of the troops. ‘But that shouldn’t lessen the severity of our response . . .’
‘No,’ said Brook mechanically.
‘It’s attempted murder against one of our own,’ continued Charlton, practising for the evening news, when he would pontificate solemnly in front of the hospital.
Brook nodded at Noble, who dimmed the lights before flicking at a remote, and the assembled detectives fell silent. The faces of Nick and Jake Tanner stared out at them, the younger brother in school uniform, face distorted by a silly grin, the elder glassy-eyed and stern for the custody suite camera after his previous arrest.
‘On the left, Jake Tanner, twenty-eight years old and unskilled, though he seems to have worked regularly through the years, mostly as a relief barman in pubs around the city centre, including the defunct Cream Bar. Nick Tanner, the younger brother, is nineteen and has never worked. He has special needs and relies completely on Jake, who is effectively his guardian. By all accounts, the pair are inseparable.’
‘Should make them easier to pick up,’ said Charlton.
‘You’d think,’ answered Noble. ‘But we’ve not had a single sighting on the streets or at any of the transport hubs where they might be expected to head if they want to get out of Derby. Also no reports of stolen cars in the vicinity of the Milton tower block, and local cabs drew a blank.’
‘So how did they get away?’
‘We don’t think they did,’ said Brook. ‘We think they’ve gone to ground somewhere nearby.’
‘Or someone’s hiding them,’ suggested Charlton.
‘Possible,’ said Noble. ‘But if so, we don’t know who. They have no family in Derby and no friends or acquaintances that we can find.’
‘Then where the hell are they?’
‘Unknown,’ said Noble.
‘Are we sure they went home after torching the van?’ asked Charlton.
‘Their flat was partially cleared out,’ replied Noble. ‘After setting the fire, they left the scene at twenty-one minutes past two yesterday morning and CCTV shows them making their way through the city centre, heading roughly in the direction of the tower block fifteen minutes later.’
‘Why go back?’ asked Banach. ‘Having killed someone, wouldn’t they have prepared their escape before dumping the body?’
‘And if they’ve got no other transport, why didn’t they take the van where they needed to go and torch it there?’ asked Morton.
‘Panic, maybe,’ said Noble. ‘Also, we don’t know where they needed to go. They have no connections outside Derby and no obvious destination. Their lives are here. For that reason, we think they packed a few clothes and filled a bag with food before they ran.’
‘Why pack food?’ said Charlton.
‘So they could have something to eat,’ replied Brook, instigating a ripple of laughter. Charlton didn’t join in.
‘When we searched their flat, we found a receipt for twelve pounds’ worth of groceries, mainly baked beans, bought the previous evening,’ explained Noble. ‘Yet there were no provisions in the place. They’re young and fit, but even so they couldn’t have been planning to go far on foot with all that. We’ve had DC Cooper looking for possible locations . . .’
‘Hang on,’ said a puzzled Charlton. ‘I thought they went to the Cream Bar. Jake was working there when it closed. You said he might have had keys.’
‘He did work there, and it’s
possible
he had keys,’ conceded Brook.
‘Possible?’ said Charlton. He nodded at Banach. ‘Two officers were assaulted there.’
‘We can’t be certain that was Jake and Nick,’ said Brook softly, aware that he was pulling the rug of certainty from under Charlton’s feet.
‘I don’t understand.’
‘Someone stacked pallets against the wall and climbed in through the window before Banach and Ryan,’ said Brook. ‘Why would the Tanners do that if Jake had keys?’
‘And when we arrived, the door was locked,’ added Noble. ‘If they had keys, Jake and Nick would have come through the front door and left the same way. And having just attacked two coppers, you don’t stop to lock the door behind you . . .’
‘Then who?’ demanded Charlton.
‘We don’t know,’ said Brook.
‘I can’t go on the local news with that,’ said Charlton. ‘It’s Tanner and his brother. Has to be.’
‘We searched the Cream and didn’t find any of the food or clothing the Tanners took from their flat.’
‘They could’ve taken it all with them after the attack,’ said Charlton.
‘Would you be calm enough to do that, or would you just run?’ said Brook.
‘And why assault me?’ asked Banach, coming to Brook’s aid. ‘If I’m climbing through a first-floor window, why not just run out the door?’
‘Then Jake didn’t have keys,’ said Charlton, after a moment’s thought. ‘The brothers climbed in through the same window and assaulted you and Ryan because you were blocking their escape route.’
‘That would mean they carried their baggage and heavy cans through a first-floor window and out again after the attack,’ said Brook.
‘Then that’s what they did,’ insisted Charlton. ‘Assuming they even had bags, which I seriously doubt.’ Brook was silent. ‘Look, people, I can’t go on
East Midlands Today
with all this . . . conjecture.’
‘Would you rather go on record with facts that are wrong?’ enquired Brook.
Charlton took a deep breath. ‘Okay, let’s leave aside the assault. Where are we on actually finding them?’
‘We abandoned the roadblocks before rush hour, sir,’ replied Noble. ‘If they had access to a vehicle, they would have left the city by now.’
‘No sign of them at Derby Midland or Morledge bus station?’
‘None,’ chipped in DC Smee. ‘But we’re keeping a presence in case they break cover.’
‘We’ve still got dog handlers going door-to-door until this evening, but after that we’re relying on the phones,’ said Noble.
Charlton nodded up to the whiteboard. ‘You’ll need a better likeness for Nick if you want the public ringing in.’
‘We’re still trying to find a recent image,’ said Cooper, ‘but Nick’s not on Facebook or social media. Nor is Jake.’
‘That’s unusual,’ said Charlton.
‘Poverty may be a factor,’ said Cooper. ‘And because Nick has special needs, he’s never had a job or been to college. He has no mobile, no bank account and has never applied for a passport or driving licence or anything that might require a photo ID.’
‘A nineteen-year-old without a mobile?’ said Read. ‘Weird.’
‘They could have PAYG phones,’ suggested Smee.
‘But then we’d have no record.’
‘You said no family,’ pressed Charlton.
‘Mother deceased,’ said Cooper. ‘Three arrests for soliciting. One for using. No convictions. Father unknown and no male name on either birth certificate . . .’
‘Sounds like the mother didn’t know the fathers either,’ said Banach.
‘Fathers?’ said Charlton.
Banach nodded at the screen. ‘They don’t look much alike. In her profession and with the age gap, different fathers seem likely.’
‘Jake must have work colleagues at least,’ insisted Charlton.
‘He’s a relief barman,’ said Cooper. ‘He doesn’t stay in a job long enough for people to get to know him. Being full-time guardian to Nick can’t help.’
‘Social Services?’
‘Minimal involvement.’
‘What about prison?’
‘Same story,’ said Cooper. ‘No known associates either on Jake’s file or behavioural reports. He kept to himself and the warden gave him a spotless record.’
‘What was he in for?’
‘GBH. Sentenced to six months, out in three. It was a serious attack but a first offence so he got off lightly. Until the GBH, he was a Category D poster boy – a few cautions as a teenager and a fine for shoplifting.’
‘Do we have background on the assault?’ asked Brook.
‘The file says it was an argument in the street that escalated,’ said Cooper. ‘The victim was a thirty-three-year-old civil servant, Aaron Robertson. Respectable. No priors. But Robertson is gay and there were suggestions that it was a hate crime, though Tanner’s brief managed to fight that off or the sentence could’ve been a lot worse.’
‘No shared history with the victim?’
‘None,’ said Cooper. ‘It was a random attack.’
‘Something else that doesn’t add up,’ said Brook. ‘But it means we have his DNA at least.’
‘To test against what?’ demanded Charlton.
‘We have DNA from a pair of gloves in the van,’ said Brook. ‘If it’s not Tanner’s, it could be the van owner’s, or more likely his brother Max, who used the van, but we don’t have a control sample yet.’
Charlton shook his head. ‘The Tanners don’t strike me as very bright. How the hell can they still be at large?’
‘Their options are limited,’ said Noble. ‘With no friends or family, we’re looking for a lock-up or an allotment. Failing that, our best bet is derelict buildings and squats. So far, nothing.’
‘You’ve considered a home invasion,’ said Charlton.
‘We haven’t ruled it out,’ said Noble, ‘but we’ve been all over it with door-to-door and not a single resident gave off the vibe.’
‘I’m not convinced those two could control a family,’ suggested Read.
‘Not convinced?’ exclaimed Charlton. ‘The Tanners murdered a girl and burned her body. Or am I dealing in the
wrong
facts?’
Brook hunched forward, talking to the floor. ‘We can tie them to the van, no question. We have film and a witness.’
‘Then what more do you need?’ demanded Charlton. ‘When you confirm Caitlin Kinnear as the victim, it’s a slam-dunk.’
Brook tagged in Noble with a weary glance.
‘The post-mortem ruled out Caitlin Kinnear,’ said Noble. ‘She wasn’t the victim.’
‘Not the victim?’ said Charlton. ‘I thought you connected Jake Tanner to Caitlin on the night she disappeared?’
‘We did,’ said Noble. ‘The victim is the right age, but Caitlin Kinnear had an abortion a few weeks ago and the dead girl was between ten and twelve weeks pregnant.’
Brook’s eye was drawn by Banach, her head bowed in sympathy, her hands moving from forehead to chest, circumnavigating her crucifix – the instinctive response of a Polish Catholic to the death of an unborn child. His eye strayed to the photographs of the missing girls.
‘An unborn child,’ repeated Charlton, pained. ‘God bless. Do we have ID on the mother?’
‘Unknown for the moment,’ said Noble. He pointed the remote, zipping through several crime-scene photographs showing various angles of the melting plastic sheets containing the charred and disfigured corpse. ‘Her fingerprints were destroyed so we’re working on dental. But that won’t be straightforward.’
‘How so?’
‘Because of this.’ Noble flicked through the slides of the victim’s scorched arm, looking for the best shot.
‘It’s a tattoo of the Polish flag,’ said Banach, her mouth dropping open.
‘The dead girl was Polish?’ asked Charlton.
‘It seems likely,’ said Noble. He glanced across at Brook, but he was transfixed by the pictures of Daniela Cassetti, Caitlin and the others.
‘Any candidates from Missing Persons?’ asked Charlton.
‘Several possibilities, sir,’ said Noble. He flicked again at the remote to load another photograph. ‘But this is the current favourite because she’s the closest match to the dead girl’s specs. Nicola Serota. Polish national from Poznan . . .’
‘I remember her,’ said DC Read. ‘I made enquiries. She was visiting her sister in Derby when she disappeared . . .’ He clicked his fingers.
Noble obliged. ‘Veronika.’
‘Veronika, that’s right,’ said Read. ‘But . . .’
‘But what?’ demanded Charlton, when Read hesitated.
‘She disappeared . . . must be eighteen months ago,’ answered Read.
‘Not that long,’ said Noble, before adding quietly, ‘January third, twenty-fourteen.’
‘Sixteen months!’ exclaimed Charlton. ‘Is this one of the young women Interpol enquired about?’ Noble nodded, looking at Brook for help, but he seemed lost in thought. ‘You’re telling me this Nicola Serota was abducted sixteen months ago and kept alive until she turned up dead the other night.’
‘I’m not telling you that because we don’t know, sir,’ said Noble. ‘But she left her sister’s flat in Derby on that date and hasn’t been seen since. She’s Polish, she’s the right height—’
‘Why don’t I know more about the disappearance?’ demanded Charlton.
‘You said it when we took this on, sir,’ said Brook, rejoining the fray ‘She’s a foreign national. Her movements were always going to be tough to follow. And even then her disappearance could turn out to be completely innocent.’
‘And I suppose her family had no idea she was missing until months later,’ conceded Charlton.
‘Exactly,’ said Noble. ‘They thought she was travelling until it was too late to pick up her trail.’
‘It was months before she crossed my desk,’ said Read. ‘She hadn’t been in touch with home since leaving Poland, yet her parents had no idea there was a problem. With no sightings, all I could do was check her plane ticket from East Midlands – it was unused.’
‘And?’
‘That was it, sir,’ replied Read. ‘She’d only been in Britain a week. I did a risk assessment and passed her file on to the Missing Persons Bureau. Normal procedure.’