Behind Closed Doors (31 page)

On returning to the banquette with her mobile between both hands she told Suzi, ‘The woman I’m about to call is probably going to want to know a bit about your background. Are you OK with that?’

Suzi nodded uncertainly. She couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to help her once they knew who her brother was, but Fliss was being so kind, and she had to try something.

After leaving a message on her friend’s mobile asking her to call, Fliss followed Suzi’s eyes to the TV in the corner. Though the sound was down low they could hear it well enough as a reporter announced that Tomasz Sikora was still in police custody, and as far as anyone knew there was still no news on Sophie’s whereabouts.

‘Do you know him?’ Fliss asked Suzi.

Suzi nodded. ‘But not well.’

‘Do you reckon he took her off somewhere? That’s what they’re saying.’

‘I don’t know,’ Suzi replied brokenly. ‘I swear I don’t know what to think any more.’

‘The diversion you asked about?’ Leo was saying as he and Andee headed for the custody suite. ‘The local authority’s saying it never happened.’

Though it was the answer she’d expected, Andee felt a cold fist tightening inside her.

‘Are you going to tell me what it’s about?’ Leo prompted. ‘I mean, I can guess, but . . .’

‘Andee,’ Helen Hall smiled warmly as Andee and Leo came out of the lift. She was a short, slender woman in her mid-forties, with a faintly waxen complexion and arresting green eyes. ‘Long time no see. How are you? Sorry to hear about Dougie.’

‘Thank you,’ Andee replied. ‘It’s taking a while for it to sink in.’

‘I’ll bet, and I’m sure all this isn’t helping.’ She glanced at Leo. ‘Well, I guess we should get on with it. My client’s prepared a full statement, and he’s willing to talk to you, but before that happens we’re looking for immunity from prosecution.’

Andee’s eyebrows rose as Leo choked.

‘We have to know what he’s going to tell us before we can agree to that,’ Andee informed her.

‘Of course, but it’s important for you to know that he won’t agree to tell you anything unless he has the immunity.’

Flabbergasted, Leo looked at Andee.

‘Does he know where Sophie is?’ Andee asked.

Helen shook her head.

‘No, I didn’t think so.’ Andee’s face was pale as she said, ‘OK, let’s hear what he has to say.’

‘The immunity?’ Helen prompted.

‘Is not in my gift, as you know, but if his story bears out and we’re all satisfied it’s the right course to take I’m sure the CPS will consider it.’

Apparently accepting that was the best she was going to get, Helen led the way to an interview room where Sikora was waiting. Andee could see right away how anxious he was, how out of his depth and exhausted. He’d probably been awake all night, but there again, so had she.

After the door was closed and everyone had identified themselves for the tapes, Leo began, ‘You are a Polish national, but you say you can read and write English. So, are you happy to proceed without an interpreter?’

Sikora nodded.

‘You have to speak,’ Helen told him.

Sikora cleared his throat. ‘Yes,’ he said, too loudly.

Andee knew that sometimes you could look into a person’s eyes and sense instantly that good or evil ran through them; and sometimes you simply couldn’t. All she could feel sure about with this man was that somewhere amongst the anguish, fatigue and fear blanching his Slavic features, he had the kind of looks that many women – and girls – would be drawn to. Very masculine, but tinged with a reassuring hint of beauty that was almost feminine.

She could see why Sophie had fallen for him.

And why Kasia loved him so much.

She continued to watch him as Leo asked if he could explain the meaning of the caution. This was to make sure that Sikora really did understand English, and it was clear from his answer that he was having no problem with it.

Andee’s eyes moved to Helen as she began reading the statement she had helped her client to prepare.

‘“I, Tomasz Sikora, am making this statement to say that I was not with Sophie Monroe at any time on 17th August, apart from a few minutes after the show at Blue Ocean Park. During that time she told me that she had enjoyed the performance and that she was glad she had come to see it. She also said that she would like to see me after, but I told her that I had to go home. I left the Entertainment Centre some minutes before midnight and I drove straight to my home at number eight Patch Elm Lane, on the Waverley estate, taking the longer way round via Copple Lane. The first time I knew Sophie was missing was about a week later when her parents raised the alarm.”’ Helen Hall’s eyes came up as she lowered the statement. ‘That’s all there is about Sophie,’ she told Andee.

Andee nodded, and gestured for her to carry on reading.

‘“For the past seven months I have been forcibly involved in an operation, run by Mrs Jackie Poynter, to remove various electrical goods from stores around the Kesterly area. This is done by using a device, manufactured in China and shipped into Poland, that deactivates the alarm as the goods are taken out of the store. To the best of my knowledge many thousands of pounds’ worth of DVD players, TVs, computers, cameras and white goods have been shipped from this country to pre-arranged destinations in Eastern Europe. On 25th August I delivered a shipment to Krakow where I was also due to collect six Latvian girls to bring them back to England to work at the campsites, or in the nightclubs owned by Mr and Mrs Poynter in the Midlands. I didn’t collect them because I knew the police were looking for me, so I returned to this country alone. I do not know if the girls are on their way yet . . .”’

Andee held up a hand. ‘Would Tania Karpenko and Michaela Reznik have come into the country this way?’

Sikora’s eyes were large and sore as he said, ‘I don’t know for certain, I didn’t bring them myself, but it’s possible.’

‘And after working at the campsite they were transferred to the clubs?’

‘Again it is possible, but I don’t know for certain. Some girls choose to go because they make more money at the clubs.’

‘Are they ever forced to work there?’

‘I don’t think so, but it is not a situation that I am involved with.’

‘Can you give us the names of these clubs?’

As he spoke them Leo wrote them down.

Going back to the beginning of his statement, Andee said, ‘You told us you were
forcibly
involved in Mrs Poynter’s operations. Can you expand on that?’

Sikora’s shoulders sagged as he said, ‘The first time I drive the stolen goods to a depot in Portsmouth, I have no idea what is inside the boxes.’

‘Didn’t it say on the outside?’

‘Maybe, I didn’t look. I only drive the van to Portsmouth where I leave it and take the train back. It was after this that Mrs Poynter tells me what I have done and said that if I didn’t continue she would make us, me and Kasia and the children, leave our home. She also said that she would tell the police that I am the organiser behind all the stealings and that she will send Kasia back to her husband in Poland who is a violent man. So I keep on driving for her, sometimes to Portsmouth or Dover, and sometimes all the way to Krakow.’

Andee’s expression was harsh as she asked if Gary Perkins was involved in the same scheme.

‘I think so, but we never talk about it. There are many people around the camp who use the devices, some for themselves, but mostly for the European shipments.’

To Leo Andee said, ‘Get Hassan Ansari down here.’

Sikora watched in confusion as she and Leo got to their feet. ‘One of my colleagues will continue this interview,’ she explained. ‘My task is to find Sophie and I’m satisfied that you don’t know where she is.’

Closing the door behind them Leo said, ‘Just like that? You believe he’s telling the truth?’

‘Yes, I do,’ Andee confirmed, taking out her phone. ‘I’m asking Gould to come in. As soon as you’ve found Hassan, get Jemma and the rest of the team and come to the incident room.’

A FLASHING RAINBOW
of colours and cacophony of noise from the Leisure Park was washing over the entrance to Blue Ocean campsite as Andee and Gould pulled up outside the red-brick bungalow. Though a drizzle of rain was falling like silvery dust in the afternoon air it was still warm, and plenty of people were around; the atmosphere seemed almost festive as the holiday season began winding to an end. The kids returned to school next week, summer would be over, real life would resume.

Not for Sophie.

Nor for her parents.

As Andee and Gould approached the front door Andee was wondering about the people passing, rowdy, happy, thrilled with the new friendships they’d made this past week or fortnight, full of promises to stay in touch. Many of them glanced curiously at the marked police cars that came to a halt behind Gould’s, some even hanging around to find out what was going to happen next. They wouldn’t have forgotten the girl who’d gone missing; some had joined in the search, most would know that this was where the parents lived.

Gould knocked on the front door and a few moments later Gavin opened it.

It could simply have been the swinging kaleidoscope of lights, combined with the unexpectedness of the visit and the presence of a man he hadn’t seen before, that caused Gavin’s face to blanch as he saw them.

Or maybe it was the dread of bad news about Sophie.

Or maybe he’d known all along they would eventually come.

Andee’s heart was thudding tightly. ‘This is Detective Inspector Gould,’ she told him.

Gavin’s glance barely made it to Gould. He couldn’t move his eyes from Andee.

‘Mr Monroe,’ Gould began.

Gavin looked at him now and almost shrank from him.

Understanding how formidable her boss’s presence must seem to a man with something terrible to hide, Andee said, ‘Can we come in?’

Gavin stood aside. After closing the door he started ahead of them down the hall. ‘Heidi’s lying the baby down,’ he managed, having to clear his throat to get the words through.

Andee and Gould followed him into the kitchen, where the TV was on low and something was heating on the stove.

After turning off both, Gavin made himself face them. He should have asked by now if they’d found Sophie, but he seemed incapable of speech.

Taking the lead, Gould said, ‘Could you ask your wife to come in here, please?’

Gavin only stared at him. Then, suddenly finding his voice, ‘Yes, yes of course.’

As he left Andee looked around. The keys she’d spotted before were still hanging from a hook. She stepped closer to look at them again, but didn’t touch them.

When Heidi came into the room she looked as haunted, hunted, as Andee had suspected she would.

‘What – what is it?’ she asked croakily. ‘Have you . . .? Is Sophie . . .?’

Andee pointed to the keys as she said to Gavin, ‘Are those yours?’

His eyes shot to them in a blaze of fear and confusion. ‘Yes, I . . . Yes, they are.’

‘Which vehicle are they for?’

There was no colour, hardly any movement, in his face as he said, ‘I have a small van that I drive sometimes when Heidi’s using the car.’

‘Where is it now?’ she asked.

‘In . . . In my lock-up.’

‘Which is where?’

His voice shook as he gave her the address.

After point-to-pointing to one of the officers outside, she said, ‘Perhaps we should sit down.’

As they did so Heidi and Gavin seemed, oddly, as though they were turning into ghosts. Their substance was disappearing, their lives, their whole existences were dissolving to dust.

‘When did you last use the van?’ Andee asked quietly.

Gavin tried to speak, but made a sound like a swallowed cry. ‘I – I think . . . It must have been when I did my last job.’

‘The one that took you to France?’

He nodded.

‘I went to Pollards Haulage this morning,’ she informed him. ‘Everything was in order with your driver’s log,’ she continued, ‘times, speed, breaks . . . There was just one thing that bothered me, the fifteen-mile detour – or diversion – you took on your way south. We’ve checked with the French authorities, and there was no traffic diversion in place at that time.’

Gavin’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. His eyes were glazed with fear.

Heidi looked between Andee and Gould in panic.

‘Gavin, where’s Sophie?’ Andee asked softly.

He tried to answer, but a terrible, wrenching sob drowned his words. ‘She’s . . . I didn’t mean . . .’ he choked.

‘Gavin, don’t,’ Heidi cried, tears streaming down her cheeks.

This was enough; she couldn’t allow them to go any further without reminding them of their rights. ‘Gavin and Heidi Monroe,’ she said, getting to her feet, ‘I am arresting you on suspicion of the murder . . .’

‘
No! No
, don’t blame Heidi,’ Gavin cried. ‘She didn’t . . .’

Andee continued forcefully, ‘You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Do you understand?’

Shaking and terrified, he somehow managed a nod.

Heidi’s eyes were wild. ‘It was an accident,’ she sobbed. ‘No one meant to hurt her . . .’

‘I have to remind you, you’re under caution,’ Gould interrupted as Andee wrote down her words.

An accident maybe, but there was nothing unplanned about whatever had happened afterwards.

‘What about the baby?’ Heidi gulped. ‘We can’t just leave him here.’

‘Do you have any family, or friends nearby who could take him?’ Andee asked, already knowing the answer.

Heidi was sobbing so hard she was barely able to speak. ‘No, no one,’ she gasped.

‘We’ve notified social services,’ Andee told her. ‘Lauren’s outside. She’ll wait with him until someone arrives.’

‘But she doesn’t know what to do,’ Heidi cried.

‘I’m sorry,’ Andee said, meaning it, because she truly wished this wasn’t happening – that she’d never even heard of Sophie Monroe and her family.

Jesus Wants Me for a Sunbeam.

Gavin’s head went down as Gould put a hand on his shoulder, easing him towards the door.