Lynda La Plante: Clean Cut

Rashid had driven the Range Rover with Camorra beside him and Idris in the back seat; behind the dog rail lay the dead Carly Ann. When they stopped, Idris was instructed to cut off her hands and decapitate her. Camorra did not want her identified; as she had been arrested for prostitution, he knew her fingerprints would be on file. Idris was in such a state that he had only half-heartedly attempted to do what he had been told. Camorra, in a rage, had got out of the Range Rover with Rashid to do the job properly.

‘He had picked her up by her hair, holding her body up to slice at her neck, when this cop runs up. He dropped her and they both ran. I couldn’t get away: they picked me up, with blood all over me. I had the knife. I said I done it: I was too scared not to.’

Idris pleaded with Anna to help him; all she could say was that she would do her best. She told him that one of the charges for which Camorra was arrested was the murder of Carly Ann. Idris hit the table in anger: the man who could help him was dead. At this point, Anna turned to Toby Freeman and asked if she could have two minutes alone with Idris. He agreed; the guards opened the door and he walked out.

‘Two minutes, Idris, that is all I have. I need you to answer me truthfully.’

‘Yes, anything. You know me now, I’m telling you the truth.’

‘Whilst you were held in the police station, you claimed you had not been alone, but with two other men: you gave two names and an address where they could be found.’

‘Yes.’

‘Did you call anyone from the station?’

‘Yes. I called Rashid Burry to get me a solicitor, and I told him.’

‘You then, after this phone call, changed your statement — is that correct?’

‘Yes.’

‘You claimed that you had been alone with Carly Ann, and that you had just invented the fact that two other men were with you — is that correct?’

‘Yes.’

‘Why did you lie?’

Idris bowed his head. ‘I was told that Eamon was gonna die if I didn’t. I gave the names of some blokes that had worked at the Peckham house; I just said the hostel, ’cos I knew it. They was really pushing me for answers; that guy Langton was hammering at me all night.’

‘So let’s just go back to the Range Rover: you said that you were driven there by Rashid Burry.’

‘Yes, I’ve said this.’

‘Who was the other man in the Range Rover?’

Idris shrugged. ‘I have told you: the other man was Eugene Camorra. I can say his name now he’s dead, ’cos he can’t do nothing to me any more. He held her by her hair, lifted her up so he could cut her throat…’

Anna nodded. ‘When you called Rashid Burry from the police station, did you tell him about your statement?’

‘Rashid said I was a fuckin’ idiot, ’cos they had guys there at the hostel and he didn’t want the connection. I mean, I just said the first place that came into my head, right?’

Anna paused. ‘What do you think happened after you had given the police this hostel address?’

Idris shrugged. ‘I think Rashid got over there fast to get the guys out.’

‘With Camorra?’

‘I dunno. I guess so, yes.’

‘But you can’t be certain?’

‘No. I did know that the cop who had been putting all the pressure on me was cut down.’

‘By Rashid?’

Idris shook his head. ‘He never showed up after that night. I was told he was dead.’

‘Who told you that?’

‘I don’t remember, but it scared the shit out of me that Camorra could hack a cop to pieces and get away with it. I mean, I wasn’t going to talk then, no way.’

‘So you are certain that Eugene Camorra attacked the detective who had questioned you: James Langton?’

‘Yeah. Camorra had a machete; he was always wielding it around, it was razor sharp. I’m telling you, Camorra was a madman; he boasted about it. It scared the shit out of everyone.’

Idris began to sob again. He blubbered about a little boy and what Camorra had done to him: he had kept his skull and hands until they were black and shrunken, and then wore them like a necklace.

The door was rapped on: their time was up. Anna collected her papers.

Idris tried to reach out for her hand. ‘Please get me a retrial, ma’am — please. I never killed that girl.’

Anna clicked her briefcase closed. ‘You watched Camorra kill that little boy?’

‘Yeah, yeah — we had to; if we didn’t obey him, he would turn on us — he…’

He never got to finish; the officers gestured that it was time for Anna to leave. She walked out, hearing Idris still calling her name, saying that he was innocent.

In the car park, Toby Freeman approached her. ‘Do you think we’ll get a fair crack at a retrial?’

Anna wound down her window. ‘I really couldn’t say.’

‘Well, look, thanks for your help — I really appreciate it. Way I see it, basically Idris is innocent and was too terrified to admit the truth.’

Anna merely smiled and drove away. She felt drained and couldn’t wait to get home and shower: get rid of the stench of the prison; get rid of the images Idris had conjured up; get rid of the animal Eugene Camorra, who had dominated her thoughts for the months they had been trying to trace him.

Anna sat in a bathrobe and began to rip at the pages and pages of her notes. She did not care if Idris Krasiniqe was awarded a new trial or not: she didn’t want any more of the sickness to invade her life. She knew, without a doubt, that DCI Langton must have recognized Eugene Camorra, just as she was certain he had fed him the horror poison.

Camorra had died in terror; she could only imagine the terror of the poor little boy whose decapitated body was found, like floating rubbish, in the canal. She could also imagine the terror of Carly Ann North, of Gail Sickert, her little girl and her two other children.

Langton’s physical and mental control both astonished and frightened her. He was a formidable man, and she had no desire to get on the wrong side of him. She now knew she held a secret — a very dangerous one.