Lynda La Plante: Hidden Killers

‘Thank you, sir.’

Peter Allard, carrying a small overnight bag, stepped out of the prison gates. Unshaven and already over-anxious because of the wait he had been subjected to before he was released, he hurried to get to the nearest phone kiosk. He had only a small amount of change which had been taken from his pocket when he was brought in to the prison.

DC Edwards drove DI Moran in a patrol car to the Allards’ house. They parked up outside, and DC Ashton approached the car and opened the back passenger door.

‘He hasn’t shown yet, guv… We’ve got her and the kids in a safe house. When I told her he had been released, she was terrified. I thought she was going to collapse.’

‘This is bloody unbelievable, isn’t it? They let a killer out on the loose, they don’t tell his wife, and even I wasn’t told until this morning.’

‘We don’t yet know for sure if he is a killer.’

‘Yes, thank you, Edwards. Either way they’ve bloody released a man accused of indecent sexual assault, a man who’s also been told the name of the key witness in the case against him.’

‘How did Allard manage to get out?’ Ashton asked.

‘His confession was thrown out due to inconsistencies, and as he has been on remand for some time, and the only firmed-up evidence we’ve got is sexual assault, he was granted bail. He just needs to go back for his trial in two weeks. If he finds out that we’re on to him regarding the Susie Luna case, he’ll do a bloody runner. You go back to the station and keep in contact on the radio if you hear anything.’

‘Yes, sir, I’ll get the Underground then. I’ve been here since early this morning.’

‘Get back any way you can, go on, but stand by as we might need you, I’ve only got a handful of officers.’

Ashton, rather disgruntled, walked off down the road as he was also supposed to have the weekend off. He was tired out having been up all night with his new baby girl and his wife was exhausted. She would be really pissed off with him as he was now on standby at the station.

Moran lit a cigarette and checked his watch. Edwards saw a black taxi pull up in front of the house. Peter Allard stepped out of the passenger door.

‘Shit, here he is, guv,’ Edwards said.

‘Let’s see how he reacts to an empty house.’

Allard was wearing a pair of jeans and a denim shirt. They saw him leaning into the taxi driver’s window, and he appeared to be having a conversation. He then went up the path to the front door and rang the doorbell. He stepped back and looked up at the windows, then rang the bell again. When there was still no answer they saw him reach up to the top of the door frame and take down what was obviously a spare front door key.

Allard opened the door and replaced the key before he slammed the door behind him. Moran gestured to Edwards.

‘That’s Allard’s taxi cab, isn’t it? Go and check the driver out and get rid of him.’

Edwards climbed out of the patrol car, crossed over to the taxi and tapped on the driver’s window.

‘Are you waiting for someone?’

The driver answered, ‘Yes, I’m booked.’

‘No you’re not. This cab registered to you, is it? You got your cab driver’s licence?’

Moran saw the driver move off as Edwards returned to sit beside him.

‘He moved off fast but it’s Allard’s taxi, didn’t even have to show my warrant card.’

Allard stood in the neat and orderly lounge. He went out into the kitchen and immediately became suspicious as a meal had been left half-eaten on the table.

He headed up the stairs and saw the wooden slats nailed across his gym door. He placed one hand on either side of the door frame and kicked the door open. The room was in the same state of disarray as it had been when Moran and the SOCO had searched his house. The knives were all gone, but he picked up a nunchuck, swinging it by the chain. He then went into the children’s bedroom. The beds were unmade and the floor was strewn with toys.

‘Bloody untidy,’ he muttered, as he made his way to the master bedroom. It wasn’t like Marie to leave the house in such a mess. If nothing else she had always kept the place spick and span and even his mother had agreed with that.

‘Bitch!’ he exclaimed, as he saw that the wardrobe doors were wide open. Some of the clothes were lying on the bed and it was evident that Marie had packed in a hurry. He twisted the chain in his hand and swung the nunchuck down hard on the bed.

Gibbs and Jane stepped into the stinking lift of the council block and went up to floor six.

‘Which flat did she go into?’ Jane asked.

‘I dunno… I just saw her into the lift and she asked for the sixth floor. I didn’t go up with her, so we’ll have to try them all. I’ll start at 600, you start at 640…’

Moran looked at his watch. ‘He’s been in there over an hour.’

Edwards yawned. ‘Maybe this is a waste of time. It doesn’t look as if he’s going anywhere.’

‘Yes, he was. He asked that taxi to wait for him.’

Inside the house Allard pulled on a black tracksuit and a pair of Adidas trainers. He looked out of the window and swore when he saw that the taxi had gone.

‘Bastard!’ he muttered. He then put in a call using the phone in the hallway. He needed cash, as he’d not found any in the house.

He went into the kitchen, put two slices of bread on a plate, buttered them, and opened the cupboard to take out a jar of Marmite.

Gibbs and Jane had no luck with their door to door enquiries. Nobody had heard of Janet Brown, Mary Kelly or Angie, and no one had seen a black girl with a toddler. By now they had knocked on every door on the sixth floor. Two flats had not answered so the residents could be out. In most cases the occupants were abusive, slamming their doors shut. No one wanted to admit to knowing anyone when the police were involved.

‘Well, that’s it then,’ Gibbs said.

‘You know who I think might know where she is, and if she’s working one of the clubs? That ginger-haired boy, Philip.’

‘Christ! Does that mean another trek into Soho?’ Gibbs moaned.

‘You don’t have to come with me, Spence. I’ll find her on my own,’ Jane said tetchily.

‘Listen, Jane, I’ve already explained about Moran. I just covered my arse, all right? I didn’t drop you in it, but you have to learn you can’t just hurl dirt at a good officer like Moran without severe consequences. I was looking out for him, OK? I didn’t even intend talking to him but he was in the pub and asked what was going down…’

‘All right, all right. Are you going to come with me, or not?’

‘Yes… but it’s my day off, as well you know,’ Gibbs said, reluctantly.

They returned to the patrol car and Gibbs radioed in to Moran to say they had not been able to warn Janet Brown so they were now going off to see if she was working one of the strip clubs.

Moran was becoming impatient. After receiving the call in from Gibbs he had hoped they would be able to follow Allard and see if he led them to Janet Brown. As there was no show, he was not going to wait any longer but would go into the house and check it out. He slammed out of the car, and Edwards hurried after him. He kicked the door in and shouted, ‘Police… POLICE!’

They moved from room to room, unsure if Allard was in the house. Not finding him downstairs, Moran went cautiously up to the landing, while Edwards looked in the cupboard under the stairs. The door to the room used by Allard as a gym was half open, the splintered wood all over the carpet. Moran eased the door open wider with his foot before entering but it was empty; he then went into the bedroom. All the wardrobe doors were wide open, and disturbingly there was an array of women’s clothes left torn and shredded over the bed. Moran then hurtled down the stairs as Edwards yelled from the kitchen, ‘He was onto us, he’s just legged it.’