Cath Staincliffe - Hit and Run

Janine made to stand, fed up with pussyfooting about. She’d call his bluff. ‘Fine. If that’s the way you want it. Interview terminated.’

‘All right!’ Harper shouted. ‘All right. Sulikov, it was Sulikov. But I can’t…’ he lowered his voice. ‘It was a warning.’ He ran his hands over his face and breathed out harshly. ‘I’m sorry I can’t – he’ll kill me.’

‘What do you mean? A warning?’ Richard asked.

Harper slid his hands down his face leaving his fingertips splayed across his jaw, his little fingers covering the deep cleft in his chin. He sounded hoarse. ‘It was a warning, to the girls, to me.’ He spread his hands out now, palms upwards asking to be believed. ‘I don’t know if he actually did it or whether he paid someone else. He rang me up – on Tuesday.’

‘Sulikov?’ Richard checked.

‘Yes,’ Harper’s breath came erratically; he was panting as he gave his account. ‘He said I should have known better, helping myself to the merchandise. He said he’d taken care of Rosa.’ He stopped abruptly, wrapping his arms round himself, tucked his hands into his armpits, out of sight, hunched his shoulders. ‘I didn’t know what he meant at first – she hadn’t been found then. She never deserved-’ He stopped, licked his lips. ‘He said my car had made a lovely blaze. Any more problems, he said, and it’d be my house next, with me in it.’

‘Your car was used to carry the body,’ Janine reminded him.

‘To teach me a lesson.’ His eyes glistened. ‘I didn’t know any of this would happen. Honestly. I thought she would wait – maybe see sense about the baby.’

‘An abortion?’ she asked.

He looked uneasy.

‘You’d no intention of helping her, had you? You were just stalling.’

He didn’t answer, he was unnerved and the tic in his jaw was flickering away.

‘So, let’s see what we’ve got so far,’ she looked at Harper then at Richard. ‘You manage the Topcat Club and the brothel in Openshaw. Both businesses are owned by Konrad Sulikov. Sulikov is also behind a trafficking operation. Rosa Milicz was one of the women he smuggled over. You began a sexual relationship with her.’ Harper sat there as though exhausted; she wasn’t even sure whether he was taking in what she was saying now. ‘You arranged for Rosa to dance at the club although she continued to live at the brothel. When Rosa discovered she was pregnant she talked about wanting to return to Poland. You’ve told us that you last saw Rosa on Sunday at work when you argued about her plans. She was desperate to go back but you told her to wait. On Monday evening you reported your car stolen from home. Tuesday you received a phone call from Konrad Sulikov telling you he had taken care of Rosa and threatening you.’

Harper began to shake.

There was a sharp rap at the door which made them all jump. Richard spoke for the machine: ‘Interview suspended, 16.47,’ and stopped the tape. Janine went to see who it was, her head still buzzing with the details of Harper’s account. His story so far meshed with Marta’s; both pointed to Sulikov as the man behind the killing.

Richard followed her out. Butchers was there, his face bright with excitement. He held out a hands-free phone. ‘Lee Stone on the phone for you, boss.’

Her heart began to thud. She took the phone, walked a few paces down the corridor. ‘Mr Stone, this is DCI Lewis.’

‘Jez Gleason. I didn’t kill him. I never killed nobody. I need protection, a new identity, the lot.’

She locked eyes with Richard as she listened.

‘Where are you?’

‘Can you do it, get me a safe house?’

‘It’s possible. You’d need to come in and talk to me. We’d need to know how you could help us. Where are you Lee?’

‘You’re tracing this call aren’t you…’

‘No, wait. Please, Lee…’ He’d hung up already, the dialling tone loud in her ear.

Janine closed her eyes, released her shoulders, swore with frustration. ‘He thought we were tracing it,’ she told Richard. ‘He claims he’s innocent.’

Richard looked askance.

‘Wants witness protection.’

‘He’ll ring again,’ Richard reassured her.

He probably would but there was no guaranteeing it. Janine wondered whether there was any other way she could have handled the call that would have stopped him freaking out.

‘The guy’s on the run,’ Richard said, ‘his name’s on posters all over the place, we want to talk to him about two murders and a death by dangerous driving, of course he’s paranoid.’

‘He must think he’s got something to bargain with.’

‘He probably thinks telling us about the trafficking will cut it.’

Janine shook her head. ‘He’ll need a lot more than that. And if he did kill Rosa or Gleason, witness protection won’t touch him.’

Marta’s head ached. She wondered if the police would give her something for the pain. They were still in the cells at the police station. The police woman had told them they would be taken to a detention centre later that night. Zofia was weeping, worried that her family would find out exactly what work she had really been doing; she had told them she was waitressing.

‘They don’t need to know,’ Marta told her. ‘Just stick to your story, there was a mistake with the paperwork. You don’t have to go home anyway.’ The girl glanced at her.

‘They’ll probably dump us at Warsaw airport, get us to talk to the police to see what we know. After that – well…’

‘What will you say?’ Zofia swallowed.

Marta shrugged. ‘As little as possible.’

Marta had no intention of staying in Poland. She’d find a way back to the West. But not with the same set-up. She wanted to put as much distance as possible between herself and Sulikov, she knew that much. Harper had always warned them that his boss wouldn’t tolerate anyone causing problems. She’d heard the rumours: the girl who’d run away without paying her full fee, who’d been found and locked in with hungry dogs; the undercover police informant who had been strung from a lamp-post, his tongue posted to his widow. Knowing what he was capable of, Marta had never imagined Rosa would be reckless enough to run away.

She’d hoped that Harper would talk her round, force her to abort the baby.

How had Sulikov found out? Had Harper betrayed her? Marta wouldn’t put it past him. The way he spoke about Sulikov, he was just as fearful of the man as the rest of them.

The place was too warm. Her skin was sticky, her eyes gritty and the pulsing pain in her temples was getting worse. They had been given tea in plastic cups – it tasted disgusting – and little sandwiches with bitter lettuce and shiny, bland cheese. The custody sergeant had asked whether any of them needed to see a doctor. A precise note was made of their possessions, pitiful really, and their details had been taken. Marta wondered whether they would get anything back. Especially her savings. If this had happened back home, it would already be lining someone’s pocket.

It was noisy; there were no carpets or curtains to soak up the noise. Everything echoed off the hard surfaces. The other two were chattering away now in Polish and beyond that Marta could hear other voices, doors banging, bursts of laughter, phones and the whine of a power drill.

The policewoman had gone. She had a nice manner. Not overly officious or trying to bully Marta for answers. She left space instead, tempting you to fill it in. Some of the questions she had asked made Marta think they were close to catching Konrad Sulikov. When the woman talked about giving evidence against him Marta’s insides turned to water. Marta had avoided the detective’s eyes. She couldn’t do that. Not even for Rosa. It would be like putting her head in a noose. Besides, it wouldn’t help Rosa now, would it?