Behind Closed Doors Read online

  It’s all right, Scarlett, Nico was saying, although she couldn’t get his accent right in her head. She was confused, trying to focus on him, on his face, trying to make him speak.

  It’s all right, it will be okay.

  LOU

  Thursday 31 October 2013, 20:10

  The Vulnerable Victim Suite that had closed down and reopened was in Kingswood Road, a long avenue that began in the town center and led all the way out past houses and shops and industrial estates to open countryside. The VVS was in a terraced house that looked like every other one in the row: a plain black door that was in need of a lick of paint, a front yard that was paved over, two wheelie bins parked by the front door. Everything illuminated and made less attractive by orange streetlights.

  Lou rang the doorbell and the door opened a few moments later by Caro Sumner, wearing a navy blue tracksuit top and jeans.

  “Come in,” she said, standing aside. “All right?”

  Lou felt suddenly overdressed in her suit and wished she’d thought to go home and change. She didn’t want to be intimidating, didn’t want to put anything between herself and Scarlett that would make her feel nervous about talking.

  “Good, thanks. How’s it going?”

  “I was just making coffee and a sandwich. Do you want something?”

  “Coffee would be good.”

  “Right. I’ll make it. You can chat to Scarlett.”

  She opened the door to what would have been the living room. A young woman was curled into the battered sofa, knees tucked up in front of her, socked feet, the sleeves of a gray hoodie pulled down over her knuckles. She was sitting on a khaki-colored coat, as if she’d shrugged her way out of it while already sitting, then twisted into it, as if she was making it into some sort of a nest. She had cropped dark hair, big eyes. Wary. If Lou had had to bring up the picture of how she’d expected Scarlett Rainsford to look at the age of twenty-five, this would probably have come close.

  “Hey,” Lou said. “How are you doing?”

  Scarlett cleared her throat as though she was going to reply, but didn’t.

  “My name’s Lou Smith,” she said. “Can I sit with you for a while? Caro is going to make some food.”

  Scarlett shrugged and her expression changed from wary to bored. Or resigned? Or something between the two. What—or who—had she been expecting, when the door opened?

  Lou sat back in the armchair, feet crossed at the ankle, a relaxed, open posture, in the hope that this would compensate for her formal dress.

  “Are you a police officer?” Scarlett asked.

  “Yes. I was working on the investigation when you first went missing. I wanted to say how sorry I am that we never managed to find you. It’s been one of the biggest regrets of my career.”

  The girl was staring at her in surprise. Lou was almost not expecting her to reply at all, but eventually she said, “Probably wasn’t your fault.”

  “All the same.”

  Caro came in with a tray, a plate of sandwiches and three steaming mugs. The sandwiches were of the Happy Shopper variety, spongy white bread with pre-sliced cheese, made in a big pile and then cut in half with some kind of big knife so the slices were sealed in one big concentrated lump. Lou took one of the mugs and cradled her cold hands around it. “Thanks, Caro. You’re an angel.”

  “What did you say your name was?” Scarlett asked.

  “Lou. My name’s Lou,” she answered, swallowing a mouthful of scalding coffee.

  “You’re, like, something senior?”

  “I’m a detective chief inspector, but don’t let that put you off.”

  Caro was sitting forward in the other armchair, hands clasped over her knees. She hadn’t taken a sandwich, Lou noticed, and neither had Scarlett.

  Scarlett lowered her feet to the floor slowly, as though her joints were creaking, and reached for the plate of sandwiches. Never taking her eyes off Lou, she took half of the top one and curled her feet back underneath herself, holding the sandwich up to her mouth with both hands before taking a bite and chewing.

  Caro made a sound, a little satisfied sigh, and sat back.

  “Were you in charge, ten years ago?”

  Lou smiled. “Far from it. I was a detective constable then.”

  “Like you,” Scarlett said, turning her big eyes accusingly toward Caro.

  “Yes,” Caro said. “Like me.”

  “You got promoted,” Scarlett added, looking at Lou again. “You must have done something right.”

  “Doesn’t really work like that, but thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We have to do exams, portfolios, interviews if we want promotion. I think it’s about finding the job that you’re best at.”

  “And you’re a good DCI?”

  Scarlett’s use of the abbreviation made Lou stop short.

  “She’s brilliant,” said Caro.

  Scarlett nodded. She reached back to the coffee table and placed the sandwich, one semi-circular bite taken out of it, carefully on the edge of the tray.

  “I’ll talk to you,” she said. “But not in front of her.”

  Lou and Caro exchanged glances.

  “We need to head off to the hotel soon, Scarlett,” Caro said. “Once you’ve eaten.”

  “Why can’t I stay here?”

  “This place isn’t set up for overnight stays,” Lou said. “It’s just supposed to be somewhere quiet for people to talk.”

  “I can sleep on the sofa,” Scarlett said.

  “A hotel would be nicer, wouldn’t it?” Caro said cheerfully. “Nice shower in the morning, breakfast? Then we’ll come back here, if you like.”

  Scarlett shrugged, as if she didn’t care much either way. “I don’t have money for a hotel,” she said.

  “Well, for a couple of days Eden Police Service is going to foot the bill,” Caro said. “So you don’t need to worry about that.”

  Scarlett fixed Caro in a stare until the older woman got up and left the room. Above their heads, the video camera pointed its blank black eye directly, quietly, at Scarlett. It didn’t matter if Caro was here or next door; she would witness the entire exchange anyway.

  “What’s going to happen to me?” Scarlett said, when the door closed behind Caro.

  “That depends,” Lou said. “For the time being the officers are working in partnership with other agencies to determine exactly what help they can offer to you.”

  “What sort of help?”

  “You should get what they call a ‘period of rest and recovery.’ They’ll get you housing, access to support, counseling, whatever you need. Just time for you to decide what you want to do with your life now.”

  “I don’t know what I want.”

  “I think your family should be here soon. I heard they’re flying home tomorrow morning.”

  “Yeah. They told me.”

  Lou took note of the flat tone, the lack of interest. Understandable really: it had been ten years and in that time Scarlett had survived, somehow, without her mother and her father and her sister. Meeting up with them again was bound to be very strange.

  “Do I have to go with them?”

  “No. You don’t have to do anything.” Lou looked at Scarlett, watched her eyes, then added, “You don’t even have to see them, if you don’t want to.”

  Scarlett laughed, hoarse. “Yeah, right.”

  “Do you want to see them? Are you ready for that?”

  “Don’t give me any of that psycho bullshit; that’s all I’ve had from the rest of them. I want to see my mother. I want to see . . . what she looks like, whether she has changed.”

  And she tilted her head, her gaze at Lou direct, challenging, unblinking.

  PART TWO

  DEATH IS NOT THE END

  Intel Reports on 4 Carisbrooke Court, Briarstone

  5X5X5 INTELLIGENCE REPORT

  Date: 12 March 2013

  Officer: PC 9921 EVANS

  Subjec
t: Paul STARK DOB 04/05/1982, Lewis McDONNELL DOB 21/10/1953, Harry McDONNELL DOB 06/07/1956

  Grading: B / 2 / 1

  Paul “Reggie” STARK is working for the McDONNELL brothers providing “security.” He has recently been looking after the brothel that Lewis McDONNELL controls in Briarstone, as well as one in Charlmere. Research suggests this may refer to a property in Carisbrooke Court, Briarstone.

  5X5X5 INTELLIGENCE REPORT

  Date: 31 October 2013

  Officer: PC 10422 Thomas DEVINE

  Subject: Op Pentameter 2013

  Grading: B / 2 / 4

  On 31 October 2013 a warrant was carried out under Op Pentameter 2013 at 4 Carisbrooke Court, Briarstone. Present at the address were the following: – Ekaterina IORATOVA, DOB 01/12/1996.

  – Ella HARTUNEN, DOB 22/08/1994.

  – Liliana VETTINA, DOB 14/05/1997.

  – Katie SMITH, DOB 11/02/1988.

  All the above gave their address as 4 Carisbrooke Court, Briarstone.

  Also present were:

  – Victor RAMOS, DOB 14/01/1971, 91A Queen Street, Briarstone, warnings for violence, weapons and drugs. Intel on RAMOS indicates he is a frequenter of brothels around the county.

  – Peter James BRIGHAM, DOB 18/04/1957, 151 High Street, Baysbury, no previous intel.

  – Edward LITTNER, DOB 31/10/1968, The Maltings, Love Lane, Catswood, no previous intel.

  5X5X5 INTELLIGENCE REPORT

  Date: 31 October 2013

  Officer: PC 10422 Thomas DEVINE

  Subject: Op Pentameter 2013

  Grading: B / 2 / 5

  On 31 October 2013 a warrant was carried out under Op Pentameter 2013 at 4 Carisbrooke Court, Briarstone. Present at the address was an individual who identified herself as Katie SMITH, DOB 11/02/1988. When she was booked into custody and asked to provide a DNA sample, the woman admitted that her true identity was Scarlett RAINSFORD, DOB 11/02/1988 (subject of a missing persons investigation in 2003 under Op Diamond). Due to the likelihood of media attention, SMT were informed.

  5X5X5 INTELLIGENCE REPORT

  Date: 31 October 2013

  Officer: PC 10422 Thomas DEVINE

  Subject: Op Pentameter 2013

  Grading: B / 2 / 4

  On 31 October 2013 a warrant was carried out under Op Pentameter 2013 at 4 Carisbrooke Court, Briarstone. During the warrant the following mobile phones were seized: – iPhone 4s containing SIM ending 424—seized from Victor RAMOS, DOB 14/01/1971.

  – black Samsung handset containing SIM ending 191—seized from Ella HARTUNEN, DOB 22/08/1994.

  – black Nokia handset containing SIM ending 891 seized from Katie SMITH, DOB 11/02/1988.

  – iPhone 5 containing SIM ending 991 seized from Peter James BRIGHAM, DOB 18/04/1957.

  – white Samsung handset containing SIM ending 042 seized from Edward LITTNER, DOB 31/10/1968.

  5X5X5 INTELLIGENCE REPORT

  Date: 31 October 2013

  Officer: PC 10422 Thomas DEVINE

  Subject: Op Pentameter 2013

  Grading: B / 2 / 4

  During the execution of the warrant at 4 Carisbrooke Court, Briarstone, on 31 October 2013, Gavin PETRIE DOB 17/03/1975 was seen outside in a Suzuki Swift vehicle having a conversation on his mobile phone. He was spoken to by officers who asked him to move on, and were told that he was visiting a friend in Roehampton Court, the adjacent block of flats. Despite this he sat in his car outside for at least 30 minutes observing the activity.

  5X5X5 INTELLIGENCE REPORT

  Date: 31 October 2013

  Officer: PC 10422 Thomas DEVINE

  Subject: Op Pentameter 2013

  Grading: B / 2 / 4

  Following the warrant carried out at 4 Carisbrooke Court on 31 October, Liliana VETTINA, DOB 14/05/1997, who is believed to be of Moldovan nationality, refused to give a statement and when interviewed was claiming to not understand English. However, while waiting in the back of the van to be taken to Briarstone, VETTINA had a lengthy conversation in English with Katie SMITH DOB 11/02/1988.

  LOU

  Friday 1 November 2013, 09:00

  “Right, can we get on with it? Lots to get through.”

  The canteen coffee hadn’t kicked in yet and Lou felt fuzzy, out of focus. So many late nights on the trot were starting to take their toll; she was looking forward to a lie-in tomorrow and, with a bit of luck, a day off. She perched on the edge of the spare desk and balanced her notebook on her knee. There weren’t too many people present: just Jane Phelps, Ron Mitchell, Les Finnegan and Sam Hollands.

  “No Ali today?” Lou asked.

  “He’s got the dentist, ma’am,” Jane said. “Coming in later.”

  “Okay. Jane, you’re going to have to fill us in. How are you getting on with the exhibits for Op Nettle?”

  “Not too bad. The court date is set for the thirteenth of January. Ali keeps getting calls from Suzanne Martin’s sister, though.”

  This was new. There was a duty of care to the families of people involved with court cases, but in practice advice and support was a team effort with the solicitors, or Victim Support. It was part of seeing a job through to the end, staying in touch with the families of victims and offenders alike, but this one in particular set off an alarm bell. “Really? What about?” Lou asked.

  “All sorts of things; she’s horribly persistent. Have you met her?”

  “No. What’s she like?”

  “Ali quite likes her. She gives me the creeps, though. He keeps explaining that we can’t share information with her, telling her to get in touch with the brief, but it doesn’t stop her ringing. I have a feeling she’s trying to sabotage things somehow. I know Ali’s got it all under control but I thought you should know.”

  “Thanks, Jane.”

  “Apart from that, we’re all on track for it.

  “Good to hear. Let’s move on to Op Trapeze—Sam, did you see Jason’s profile on the McDonnells?” Lou had left it in an envelope on her desk last night, with a big note attached saying “Read—urgent.”

  “I did,” Sam said. “Interesting that Maitland had a falling-out with them. Wonder what else is behind it.”

  “That’s what I wondered too. I wish we could get some fresh intel on him.”

  “I keep submitting taskings; nothing’s coming back.”

  Ron murmured something that might have been “bullet-proof.”

  Sam said, “It’s also interesting that the Petries seem to be getting more involved with the McDonnells. They were always Maitland’s buddies first and foremost. I wonder if that’s got something to do with their disagreement.”

  “Nigel’s getting isolated,” Ron said. “That can only be a good thing.”

  “Or he’s isolating himself,” Lou said. “Which makes me wonder if he had anything to do with McVey’s murder. I would have expected much more intel to float to the surface about that, wouldn’t you?”

  “There’s been next to nothing.”

  “Les—what do you think?”

  Les Finnegan, a year from retirement and highly skilled at keeping his head down, was keeping his head down. “About Maitland? Not sure, boss. I can’t see him having anything to do with McVey. He’s not that hands-on.”

  “Nevertheless, it would be good if we could bring him in for something. See if we can stir him up a bit.”

  Les didn’t reply. He was meeting her eyes but not saying anything, rabbit in the headlights. It crossed Lou’s mind to mention that SB were trying to get a surveillance team on Maitland, but that wasn’t information that needed to be shared, even in this forum.

  “What do you think, Les?” Honestly, it was like pulling teeth.

  “He won’t come in voluntarily.”

  Jane interrupted this increasingly tense exchange. “Ma’am, if it’s any help, I need to go up to the farm at some point to return some unused property. I could see if I could get a quiet word then?”

  “I think he might be away,” Les said.

  “Away? Wha
t, on holiday or something?”

  “I thought I saw something on intel,” Les said vaguely.

  There were times when Les was as sharp as Mr. Buchanan’s gold-plated tie pin, and others when Lou wondered whether he was just treading water until he got his commutation and his pension.

  “Thanks, Jane,” Lou said, “that would be great. I just want to know what he looks like when he hears McVey’s name mentioned.”

  “Will do.”

  For the next few minutes Lou half-listened as Sam went through the taskings, making sure jobs were covered over the weekend. She was thinking about Nigel Maitland, half-tempted to ask if she could tag along with Jane. If she could just see him, face-to-face, she would know. Then the task of finding the evidence to nail the bastard could begin. I will get you, she thought. I will find something on you and I will be ready to bring you down.

  SCARLETT

  Friday 22 August 2003, 14:18

  The next day, the last full day of the holiday, Scarlett tried to stay in bed.

  When he had finished, her father had taken her back to the apartment next door and pushed her onto the bed. If she was awake, Juliette had not moved or breathed or given any indication that she was doing anything other than sleeping. Her mum had said nothing. She’d followed her father out of the room.

  Once the door had been pulled closed, Scarlett let out a retching, desperate sob, followed by another. She couldn’t help it. It had been held inside her for so long that she was going to explode. She tried to keep quiet, to stifle her cries in the pillow, not wanting to wake her sister and have to explain.