Authors: Simon Kernick
‘Do you think that guy’s always a joker like that?’ asked Mo, when they were out of earshot of the dozen or so officers and mortuary attendants still at the scene, and away from the lingering smell of decomposing flesh.
‘Probably. You know what it’s like. For some people, it’s just the best way of dealing with it all.’
Mo grunted. ‘He just gets on my nerves.’
They walked in silence back to the car. ‘So what do you think?’ Bolt asked him.
‘There wasn’t a second killer working with Hope,’ said Mo, leaning against the car. ‘We’ve never found any evidence linking him with someone else; all the missing trophies – the fingers, the items of jewellery – were found at Hope’s home. It was Hope who was spotted by Richard Oldham loitering alone outside the Morris murder scene the day before they were killed; and there was only one killer at the Rowan/Hanzha murder scene.’
‘Who we know about,’ Bolt pointed out. ‘There might have been another killer upstairs who Amanda Rowan didn’t see when she disturbed the murder of her husband and his mistress.’
‘It seems unlikely though, doesn’t it? If there were two killers, they could easily have ambushed and trapped her upstairs.’
‘As it happens, I agree. But that leaves us with an even bigger problem. Who the hell murdered Hope?’
They were both silent for a minute. Bolt was thinking. ‘Someone helped Leonard Hope escape,’ he said at last. ‘He never left the area on foot. We’d have caught him if he had. And he didn’t steal a car because none were reported stolen. So someone must have whisked him off, probably in the back of a car, and it’s got to have been the person he was on the phone to.’
Mo nodded. ‘That’s the theory that makes the most sense. Then he goes to ground, probably with the person who took him. They looked after him for a couple of days, then, for whatever reason, decided to torture and kill him, and dump his body out here in the middle of nowhere.’
‘But how did the person know Hope was being tailed?’
‘The only way would be if you already knew the police were onto him.’
The inference was obvious and it troubled Bolt. ‘You think it’s someone from the inquiry?’
‘Well, no. What would be the point? Everyone on the inquiry team’s trying to catch the killer, so why risk your career to help him escape?’
Bolt sighed. ‘There are over a hundred people on the team. All of them knew for three days that Leonard Hope was a suspect. I know we swore them all to secrecy, but some of them would have talked to friends, family and particularly other cops. So there are probably a couple of hundred people at least with access to that information.’
‘But we’re still left without a motive,’ said Mo. ‘Why would you help him escape? There’s just no reason for it that I can think of.’
‘It could be a vigilante thing. Maybe it was a cop who didn’t think Hope was going to get the treatment he deserved in prison. I mean, let’s face it, whoever killed him really wanted to make him suffer. He must have died in absolute agony.’ Bolt was surprised to realize that the thought of Hope dying in agony pleased him.
Mo shook his head. ‘I don’t buy the vigilante angle.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because most cops I know are professional, and detached enough not to take everything so personally. How many of them get so wound up in a case that they can’t think straight, and end up being prepared to risk their career, their pension, and twenty years behind bars just to make sure a man who’s going to go to prison for the rest of his life anyway dies in agony? And even if there was one prepared to put a plan like that into action, he couldn’t have done it alone. It requires organization, and real balls, because there’s no guarantee he’d have been able to get Hope in a car with him.’ Mo shook his head again. ‘I’m sorry, boss, but there’s no way it was some Dirty Harry-style cop.’
When he put it like that, it didn’t make much sense to Bolt either. ‘But someone helped him. Someone who hated him enough to burn his balls into Maltesers with a blowtorch.’
Once again they were silent for a few moments. Bolt took a deep breath and looked up at the night sky. It was a clear night but the stars were obscured by the thick orange glow of London to the east and the lights of planes as they queued up in a long, sweeping semi-circle for their approach into Heathrow Airport, the low rumble of their engines providing a constant background noise. He was stuck, and it irritated him. Worse, Leonard Hope’s death was only going to increase the pressure on him. Now it looked like they’d never find out exactly what had happened.
‘Shall we head back to town?’ said Mo, shivering as a gust of cold wind blew across the road, then opening the car door. ‘We need to get in touch with the victims’ next of kin and let them know that they’re not going to get their day in court.’
‘Jesus,’ sighed Bolt, opening the passenger door. ‘What a pig’s ear.’ And then, as Mo started the engine, a thought struck him. ‘The victims’ next of kin,’ he said aloud. ‘Now they’d have a real reason to hate Leonard Hope.’
‘Sure they would, boss, but none of them knew Hope’s identity before we announced it, and that wasn’t until after he was already on the run.’
‘What do we know about Ivana Hanzha’s family? You know, George Rowan’s mistress. I heard word that her old man’s one of those Russian oligarchs. Someone with a hell of a lot of money and good contacts.’ As SIO on the case, Bolt hadn’t had to deal with the next of kin, but now he was beginning to wish he had.
Mo sat forward, looking more interested now. ‘His name’s Vladimir Hanzha, and we haven’t gone into his background too much. I mean, it’s not as if he’s a suspect or anything, and from what I gather his daughter’s been estranged from him for the last five years. But, yeah, the word is he’s a bit of a shady character, like a lot of those guys. I still don’t see how he could have got hold of Leonard Hope, though.’
‘And maybe he didn’t. But we’re running low on leads, and he’s got to be worth talking to. I’m going to call Sam Verran.’
Sam Verran was a former colleague of both Bolt’s and Mo’s in SOCA, the Serious and Organized Crime Agency. A career cop with only a year to go until retirement, he was an expert in Russian and Eastern European crime networks, and the extent to which they’d impinged on the UK organized-crime scene. He knew all the key players, and quite a few of the not-so-key ones as well, and if anyone could give them a lowdown on Ivana Hanzha’s old man, it would be him. And if he couldn’t, then it meant the old man was clean.
Bolt hadn’t spoken to Sam Verran since he’d left SOCA, which was close to two years back now. They’d promised to remain in touch but, as was so often the case, they hadn’t, which was a pity because Bolt had always liked him. He hesitated for a moment, vaguely embarrassed to be calling Verran at 8.30 on a Friday night because, if he remembered rightly, he hadn’t responded to Sam’s last email about a SOCA reunion drink. But only Verran could give him the answers he needed, so he didn’t hesitate for very long.
Verran answered after the second ring. ‘Well, well, well,’ he said in a strong Essex accent. ‘The wanderer returns. I thought you’d retired and moved abroad, I haven’t heard from you in that long.’
Bolt chuckled, getting comfortable in his seat as Mo pulled away from the kerb. ‘You know how it is, Sam. Work never stops, does it?’
‘How’s it going on the Disciple case? I’ve seen you on the TV taking a lot of flak from those media assholes, as if they could do any better catching the guy. Any news on him yet?’
‘Nothing right now,’ said Bolt, who didn’t want to tell Verran about Leonard Hope before he’d spoken to his boss in Homicide and Serious Crime Command, ‘but we’ll get him eventually.’
‘So, what can I do for you, Mikey-boy? I’m assuming this isn’t a social call.’
‘Not entirely, no. I was wondering if you could give me some info on Vladimir Hanzha.’
‘Ah yes. His daughter was one of The Disciple’s recent victims, wasn’t she? She was the one killed along with her lover at his place. The wife disturbed them.’
‘That’s right. My colleague – you remember Mo Khan, don’t you?’
‘Course I do.’
‘Well, he’s been hearing rumours that Vladimir Hanzha’s involved in some dubious dealings, and I thought, who better to talk to than my old mate Sam Verran to find out if they’re true.’
‘But what’s he got to do with the Disciple case?’
‘Nothing as far as I know,’ said Bolt, deflecting the question. ‘I just need some background.’
‘Fair enough. To tell you the truth, I don’t know anything about Hanzha for sure, and he’s not under active investigation, but you’re right, there
are
rumours and, off the record, I reckon there’s some meat to them. The point is, though, he’s got big money, big connections, and a very big team of lawyers, so you’ve got to be very careful. The official line is he’s an entrepreneur who arrived in this country in the late 1990s with the equivalent of about ninety million in sterling in his pocket, which he made from the sale to Exxon of a natural gas company he owned back in Russia. Since then, he’s invested in a number of companies and projects in the UK and overseas – commodities, property, a couple of big holiday resorts. Even through the midst of the worst recession since the 1930s, he’s managed to double his personal wealth to a hundred and eighty million. He donates money to charities; he counts a number of big businesspeople, a few lords and ladies, and even a couple of politicians as his friends; and because he’s not one of the big billionaire oligarchs, he’s managed to keep a fairly low profile.’ Verran paused. ‘That’s the official line.’
‘And the unofficial one?’
‘That he’s a gangster. Back in Russia, the previous owner of the gas company that Hanzha sold was found face down in a swamp riddled with bullets, just after he sold his shares to Hanzha at a knockdown price, and there are more than a few tales of people who crossed him back then ending up dead. Since he’s been in the UK, there haven’t been any killings that could be linked back to him, but a few years ago a British businessman who’d had a dispute with him disappeared one day, and hasn’t been seen since. The businessman also had disputes with a few other people, so there was no way of proving it had anything to do with Hanzha, but there was another incident about a year ago when a South African bloke who’d shafted Hanzha on a deal involving a cobalt mine in Congo ended up shot along with his wife at their house in Cape Town. Again, nothing you can prove, but I’m one of those people who doesn’t believe in smoke without fire, and I always think that any man who employs an army of bodyguards, like Hanzha does, has got something to hide. There are other rumours too – that he’s involved in money laundering, that he’s connected to a major Asian illegal betting syndicate, all sorts – but you get the picture.’
‘Yeah, I do. We also heard he was estranged from his daughter – the one who got killed. Do you know what that was about?’
‘Off the record . . .’
‘This is all off the record, Sam. I promise.’
‘It’s lucky I trust you, Mike. Even if you do only phone when you want something. Anyway, I’ve heard Hanzha has a bit of a temper, and he used to knock the girl’s mother about. They divorced a long time back but she was the only one of the three kids – the other two are boys – who sided with the mother. As far as I know, she doesn’t – didn’t – speak to her father or her brothers.’
‘He sounds like a really nice guy.’
‘He’s an arsehole, and a rich arsehole as well, which makes it even worse; but, as far as SOCA are concerned, he’s not top priority. There are plenty out there who we know for sure are up to no good, and they’re the ones we’re after right now. Maybe we’ll get round to him eventually, but I wouldn’t hold your breath.’
‘I won’t,’ said Bolt, who’d long ago got used to hearing stories of major criminals operating with impunity.
‘You still haven’t actually told me what this is really about,’ said Verran, a knowing tone in his voice. ‘What do you think Hanzha really has to do with all this?’
Bolt knew he was going to have to give his old colleague something if he wanted to get any more information from him. ‘Okay, and this is definitely one hundred per cent off the record, but we think it’s possible that some harm might have come to Leonard Hope.’ He ignored Mo’s sideways frown and continued. ‘We’re certain he got help escaping from us when he was under surveillance, but we reckon that whoever helped him might then have killed him.’
‘So he’s dead.’
Bolt didn’t say anything.
‘Come on, Mike. You’ve known me long enough to know I won’t shout my mouth off.’
‘Yeah, he’s dead. His body was dumped in a wood out near Maidenhead and he’d been badly tortured.’ Again, Mo gave him a frown, but Bolt just shrugged.
‘Well, by the sound of things, whoever did it was performing a public service. I can’t see too many tears being shed for a sick bastard like him.’
‘As it happens, Sam, I agree with you. But right now we’re stuck for a motive. We’re looking at the vigilante angle, and what I wanted to know from you was whether you thought that Hanzha would have the capability to snatch Hope from under our noses, and whether he’d go to all that effort to avenge his daughter. At the time, no one outside the Force knew we were onto Hope, so it had to be someone with good connections.’
Verran was silent for a few moments as he pondered this. ‘It’s possible, I suppose. Like I said, Hanzha’s got good connections and plenty of money, which is a pretty effective combination. I also know he’s got a bloke working for him called Frank Keogh, who’s an ex-copper. You might have heard about him. He was a firearms officer who shot a gang member a few years ago and ended up getting done for manslaughter.’
‘Yeah, I do remember something about that. I remember thinking at the time it was a real injustice.’
‘It was. They just needed a fall guy. Anyway, it looks like Keogh’s gone over to the dark side, and the thing is, he’s still got some contacts in the police force, so there could have been a leak. The problem you’ve got though, Mike, is proving anything. Even if Hanzha
is
responsible, and I’m not at all sure he would be, given he hasn’t spoken to his daughter in years, there’s no way he would have been involved himself.’