Hilary Bonner - Friends to Die For

‘But if Marlena had been riding that bike, how did Kristos find out? And when? The Sunday Clubbers had been meeting at Johnny’s Place for two years. He couldn’t have known from the beginning surely. Why would he have waited so long for his revenge?’

Vogel paused, reflecting on this. ‘That’s what we’re talking about here, isn’t it, revenge? And if this theory holds together, it was all about Marlena from the start. Kristos planned to murder her, and all the other stuff was a smokescreen.’

Clarke agreed. ‘Poor Michelle Monahan was onto something, I reckon. That’s why she had to die.’

‘You know what, boss,’ Pam Jones interjected. ‘When Michelle was attacked in Brydges Place, she could well have just come from Kristos’s place. It’s just off the top of St Martin’s Lane, so she’d have had to pass that alleyway to get from there to here.’

‘There were lock-picking tools in her pocket,’ interjected Carlisle. ‘Remember?’

‘Shit,’ said Vogel. ‘Perhaps she thought he was out and decided to break in. He could have walked in and found her there. But then, why didn’t he kill her there and then?’ He tried to picture the scene in his mind. ‘Maybe he was at home all along. In bed asleep, or in the shower.’ He nodded to himself. ‘Yes, if she’d surprised him, caught sight of him naked — a man with no dick and no balls — she’d have known. And it would have given her a chance to make a run for it.’

‘You’re getting carried away, Vogel,’ said Clarke. ‘We haven’t got evidence for any of that.’

‘We could at least try checking out whether Marlena had ever talked about having a pink motorcycle,’ said Vogel. ‘And if she did, did they all know about it? Did Kristos know? That would be something.’

Clarke nodded. ‘We’ve got three of ’em here already, haven’t we? That leaves another three, including Greg Walker. We need him too, but go gently. Ask all three to come in. Don’t arrest ’em, not this time. We need them on our side. Tell them we would like to share certain information before it becomes public knowledge and ask them to come here soon as poss. And tell the three we’ve got banged up — Ari, Billy and Tiny — that they’re about to be released on police bail but we need a final chat. Tell them all that they may be able to help us finally settle this.’

‘Right, boss,’ said Vogel.

‘Then get a doctor here,’ instructed Clarke. ‘I want Kristos or Burns or whatever his fucking name is fully examined before we go any further. If we’re right, his physical condition should confirm that he’s Burns. Custody are about to get the hairdrier big time. Twice now they’ve had him undress and taken his clothes away. You’d think they might have noticed he didn’t have a dick.’

‘You know how it is, boss, the prisoners always turn their backs, and nobody looks really,’ said Carlisle, who had been a custody officer before his transfer to CID.

Clarke flashed him a stony look.

‘I don’t give a damn how it is, Carlisle — and when I want your fucking opinion I’ll ask for it,’ she said. ‘Neither do I want any more fucking mistakes, right? And let’s get our prisoner’s genitalia, or what remains of it, photographed and put on record.’

‘Right, boss,’ said Vogel again.

‘Oh, and go see the bastard in his cell. Tell him what’s happening. Let him realize his big secret is about to be revealed. Let him stew. We’ve still got bugger-all in hard evid—’

Carlisle giggled.

‘Oh, for fuck’s sake, grow up, Carlisle, or I’ll have you back in uniform,’ said Clarke, glowering at the DC.

‘Our best hope is a confession,’ she continued. ‘Proving Kristos and Burns are the same person will be straightforward enough. Apart from his lack of genitalia, we can run a comparison between the DNA samples we took when Kristos was first arrested and the samples taken when Burns attacked his foster mother back in 1990 — luckily for us, they pulled out all the stops on that one; if it had been a routine case they wouldn’t have bothered with DNA samples back then. We’ll prove he’s Rory Burns, no question of that. But it’s going to be a lot tougher pinning four murders on him. The evidence for the two King’s Cross victims, Marlena and Michelle — it’s all circumstantial. So far anyway.’

‘It’s got to be him,’ said Vogel.

‘Yep. You know that and I know that. But first the CPS have to be convinced and then a jury. We’ve checked out his alibi for Michelle’s murder, by the way — the neighbour, Marnie. You were right: when pushed, she couldn’t be sure when Kristos was with her that day. Said he usually came round about nine, sometimes before. He banked on that, I reckon.’

‘Well, that’s something, boss.’

‘Not enough. Just go put some fear into the bastard, Vogel. He’s too damned cool for my liking.’

‘Yes, guv,’ said Vogel.

He was getting up to leave when Clarke’s desk phone rang. She listened for a few seconds, then gestured for Vogel to wait.

‘We’ve had a call from a woman who works in the Covent Garden Veterinary Surgery,’ she said. ‘Apparently she’s only just seen a newspaper report mentioning that Michelle had been mugged and her face disfigured not long before she was murdered. Says she put two and two together and reckons it was Michelle, wearing heavy make-up, dark glasses, and with a baseball cap pulled down over her face, who visited the surgery on the morning of her murder. She was asking about the medical history of George Kristos’s dog.’

Vogel looked at Clarke enquiringly.

‘The dog was terminally ill, Vogel. And Kristos knew it. He’d been taking the creature to the vet regularly. It had cancer of the liver.’

‘Christ, so Kristos was about to lose his dog anyway. This is getting better, boss.’

‘Yep. But still not enough for a conviction. Let’s just see if we can’t break Kristos. Clinch it.’

Vogel left the room, taking Joe Carlisle with him.

He told Carlisle to get a doctor to the station to examine Kristos as soon as possible, to contact Bob and Alfonso, and to pass on DCI Clarke’s message to Ari, Billy, and Tiny in their cells.

Hoping that Parlow and Wagstaff would call in soon with news of Greg Walker, Vogel was just about to head off to the cells to begin the process of trying to break Kristos when Carlisle halted the phone call he was making and called after his DCI.

‘Guv, they reckon it’s going to be a couple of hours before they can get a doctor here,’ said the DC. ‘Apparently there’s been some sort of emergency...’

Vogel set off for the cells, cursing under his breath. On the bright side, a two-hour delay would give him time to talk to the Sunday Clubbers. And it would mean Kristos would have plenty of time to stew.

When the detective entered his cell, George Kristos was sitting bolt upright on the stone bench that served as a bed. His eyes instantly fixed on Vogel’s. It was as if he had been staring at the door, waiting.

The cold gaze unnerved Vogel. He had to remind himself that he was the one who was supposed to be doing the unnerving. It wasn’t going to be easy, but Vogel had an idea of something that might intimidate Kristos far more than the prospect of being tried for murder.

‘We have arranged for you to be seen by a doctor,’ he said. ‘Information has come to our attention that makes it necessary for you to undergo a full medical examination before we formally interview you again.’

He knew that his language was stilted and awkward. It was deliberate. Vogel studied Kristos carefully. Was there just a flicker of something indecipherable in his eyes? Was the man blinking a little more quickly?

‘Unfortunately it could be as long as two hours before an appropriate doctor can attend. Until that time you will be detained in this cell. Food and drink will be brought to you at the requisite intervals. Is that clear?’