Hidden Page 5

  ‘So, how did the big holiday romance go? And why was it cut so short? Oh sorry, I should have asked how you are after that mugging or whatever, first.’

  ‘Typical June; you are chasing two stories here, but want the potentially salacious one first.’

  ‘Oh course, so give: did you?’

  ‘I’m not telling you, June, it would be all over the internet.’

  June looked at Christine with the feigned expression of hurt she often used, and then said, ‘So that’s a no then. You need to get a grip, Vinnie is lovely.’

  ‘I’m fine now, after the attack,’ Christine said, grinning and avoiding June’s remark.

  June raised her hands in defeat and said, ‘OK, for now. But why the quick return?’

  ‘Advised to, by the local police.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And I think we can work it into a local angle; or should I say, it’s worth a look at. If you’ll let me,’ Christine said.

  ‘OK, now I’m interested,’ June said. ‘Canteen, now. You can tell me more over tea and toast.’

  Chapter Ten

  ‘That’s one hell of a few days you’ve had in Majorca,’ Harry said.

  ‘Yeah, it wasn’t how I’d planned my first holiday with Christine, I can tell you.’

  Just then the door opened and in walked the local CID DI, Jim Day. A man in his thirties like Vinnie, but unlike Vinnie in so far as he looked 10 years older than he was. Vinnie didn’t know him too well, but he seemed decent enough.

  ‘Vinnie, I’m so glad you boys and girls are based here now,’ Jim started. Vinnie didn’t like the sound of this. ‘I’m rushed off my feet, and an armed blag has just come in, so I’m knackered for all of today and most of the evening. Now, I know how you busy you lot can be, at times…’ Jim said.

  Vinnie could feel the ‘but’ coming.

  ‘I’m after a massive favour…’

  The ‘but’. ‘Go on,’ Vinnie said.

  Jim then went on to explain that the intelligence unit had spent weeks putting a job together concerning the activities of a local brothel, which was being run from a disused mill on the edge of the city. They had gathered lots of evidence and had target packages against those running it.

  ‘Is this really a CID job?’ Vinnie asked. ‘Wouldn’t your local target team, or plain clothes department, deal with something like a run-of-the-mill brothel — no pun intended — rather than seasoned detectives?’

  ‘Normal brothels, as in the good old days, yes. But these jobs are very different. This involves trafficked women, like in the Sadiq case. A serious problem now. Too often in the recent past such investigations have been run badly, or not at all. People failed to make the distinction.’

  ‘Go on,’ Harry said.

  ‘These brothels are often staffed with trafficked women, held against their will and forced to prostitute themselves. I’ve little against anyone who chooses to sell their own wares, but this is a whole new world; and it’s spreading,’ Jim said.

  Vinnie realised his mistake and thought of Rotherham, and other such places. These jobs should always be done properly, but were often misconstrued as he had just done. This was part of a modern scourge that he’d not previously dealt with.

  He chided himself.

  ‘Sorry,’ Vinnie said, ‘I didn’t mean that they are not important. The old plain clothes departments or vice squads used to be brilliant at this sort of stuff, is all I meant. I hadn’t realised this was a modern slavery job.’

  ‘Hard to believe that such a thing exists today, in modern Britain, I know. But we all need to wake up to the threat,’ Jim said.

  ‘Enough said, Jim, just tell me — what you want?’ Vinnie said.

  ‘The main player is believed to be using enslaved women who have been trafficked into the UK from places like Estonia and Latvia. He is a level-three target criminal. He had been flagged to the National Crime Agency, but they gave up their primacy after months of getting nowhere near him.’

  Now, Vinnie understood just how serious this job really was; even more so than others at a similar level. A level-three target is a national and international criminal of the worst kind.

  ‘How did the intelligence unit get on to it?’ Harry asked.

  ‘The initial investigation started as a result of community information, and to be honest, we were only brought in once it was known that the prostitutes were forced labour, who had been illegally trafficked into the country. No one knew who was running it until a few days ago. It was a huge bonus, I can tell you. The chief, Brian Darlington, is very excited now.’

  ‘I’m surprised the National Crime Agency hasn’t jumped back all over you,’ Vinnie said.

  ‘Trust me, they have, but this remains our investigation. We’ll ask for their help as and when,’ Jim said.

  No wonder the chief Brian Darlington has been taking such an interest, he’ll want the job putting down as soon as possible, Vinnie thought.

  ‘How can we help?’ Harry asked.

  ‘Well, the raid to free the girls is to take place at midday today, and I was to oversee it.’

  ‘Why midday?’ Vinnie asked.

  ‘Well, they keep the girls in a disused mill 24/7, and the intel is that the main player will be there around noon. Plus, there will be no punters at that time, so no risk of collateral damage,’ Jim said.

  Vinnie wasn’t sure whether the punters were worthy of protection from collateral damage. It must be obvious to them that the girls were not there willingly. As if reading his expression, Jim added, ‘We know who the regular punters are, all on surveillance videos, but the strategy is to use them as witnesses. Sure, they will be outed as punters, but their choice will be to turn witness or be nicked for being part of the conspiracy to keep abducted women there.’

  It’s a good strategy, Vinnie thought, it would be virtually impossible to prove in court that the punters knew that the women were enslaved, even though they must have known. Far better to use them as witnesses, underpinned with the threat of prosecution. Quite a sneaky plan. Vinnie liked Jim more and more. Much better in stopping the main target. Without a successful case against him, he would no doubt just disappear and set up afresh.

  ‘As serious as this job sounds, I hope you realise we could not take it on fully. We are tied to homicides,’ Harry said.

  ‘God no,’ Jim said, adding, ‘I was just hoping that Vinnie could run the raid, oversee the arrest of the main target, and keep an eye on it for me. All the interview teams are briefed and ready, as are the search teams. We also have teams who will be picking up the punters/witnesses at their home addresses, to take their statements. We can’t start the interviews proper until all of that has been done. The interview teams have been told to do a quick opening interview from this afternoon into the evening, to put allegations to those arrested and obtain their inevitable denials. We’ll hit them proper tomorrow, once we have the witness evidence.’

  ‘So you just want me to act as a bronze commander, overseeing the raid?’ Vinnie asked.

  ‘Exactly,’ Jim said, then handed Vinnie a binder full of papers. ‘It’s all in the operational order.’

  ‘Sounds interesting, and as I shouldn’t even be here, I’ve nothing else planned, so I’m up for it if Harry agrees.’

  ‘No problem,’ Harry said.

  Vinnie knew it should be easy enough to do and would fit in with Harry’s strategy of making friends with the locals. And as an added bonus, it would keep the Lancashire chief, Brian Darlington, sweet. He quickly flipped through the OP order, he’d it read properly in a minute. He was looking for the target nominals page, and found it at the rear. Only one person was named, with photographs attached. She was the madam who ran the brothel. The main player’s details were missing, as was his or her photograph.

  Vinnie turned to Jim Day and asked, ‘So, who is the person at the top of this particularly slimy tree?’

  ‘You’ll not believe it when I tell you. But sorry Vinnie, I can’t tell you unti
l you are en route, and even then you’ll be only one of a selected few on the team who will know — until he reaches the custody suite, that is.’

  ‘Sounds fascinating, but how can the arrest team risk assess the nominal prior to the strike?’

  ‘They’ve been told that the nominal is a male in his forties, well-built and known to carry firearms, so it will be a fully pre-planned firearms operation until he is safely arrested; then it will be downgraded to a non-firearms job,’ Jim said.

  ‘I bet you are pissed off at missing it,’ Vinnie said.

  ‘Not really, the strike as you know is all show really, the hard work starts afterwards. It’ll give me all the time I need to give this armed robbery my full attention, after which, one of my DSs can take that over.’

  Harry and Vinnie said their goodbyes as Jim Day rushed off. Vinnie hadn’t forgotten the pressures of working in a busy divisional CID office, and he sure as hell didn’t miss it.

  ‘When you’ve read the OP order, pass it over,’ Harry said.

  ‘Sure thing Harry, but you’re not considering coming too, are you?’

  ‘Why not? I’m dying to know who the main target is, and I promise I’ll not get in the way.’

  Vinnie smiled. It would do Harry good to leave the desk behind for a while, especially when he’d have no responsibility.

  Chapter Eleven

  ‘Are you sure this is the right size?’ Harry asked, as Vinnie struggled to fasten the stab-resistant vest for him.

  ‘They don’t shrink, Harry. When’s the last time you wore one?’

  ‘Never have. Superintendents don’t generally need them. They must have issued me the wrong size originally.’

  Vinnie very much doubted that, but didn’t say so. One last yank and he had the final snap buckle shut.

  ‘It’s no good, I can’t breathe, I’ll have to wear it loose,’ Harry said.

  ‘If anyone else…’

  ‘I know, but they won’t know, and to be fair, by the time we walk in the boys and girls in blue will have the place secured.’

  ‘Fair point,’ Vinnie said, as he looked at his watch; 11.15 am, time to go and give the arrest and search teams a final briefing. Not that they needed it, but it would give them a chance to introduce themselves.

  By 11.30 am everyone was heading to their vehicles to drive to a forward RV, which was a local fire station car park about five minutes from the target address. Vinnie drove his Volvo as Harry checked that their personal radio was working and then had a further leaf through the operational order.

  ‘Everything alright?’ Vinnie asked.

  ‘Yeah, just checking the map of the target premises, a disused mill with one driveway in and out. We’ll have to be quick.’

  Vinnie knew that superintendents didn’t get out too often, but it had obviously been some time since Harry had been on a raid of any sort. Vinnie knew that those trained in rapid entry would only take seconds to breach the premises. Some would go through the front door, some through the rear door, which incidentally was a fire door and would put up the most resistance, and some were going to go through the front frosted windows — partly to shock and disorientate those inside. He knew it wasn’t uncommon for targets to foul themselves on such jobs. He was sure he would have; though he wouldn’t be in an illegal brothel, keeping frightened and trafficked women, in the first place.

  As soon as they arrived at the fire station, Vinnie texted Jim Day to tell him and seconds later a photo message arrived on his phone, followed by a text. The main target was Cornel Babik, a Romanian citizen in his forties. Six feet tall with a stocky build. His name meant nothing to Vinnie. Harry said he’d heard the name, but as they both worked homicide as opposed to organised crime, they could be forgiven.

  Vinnie knew that the lead entry team — those attacking the front door — and the firearms team would all have received the same text. Vinnie had a quick chat with them, although they all knew their responsibilities inside-out. The firearms team were obviously going in first and as soon as they had located Babik, the lead entry team would make the arrest, search the prisoner and get him out of there as quickly as possible whilst the rest of the teams moved in.

  Ten minutes later Vinnie and Harry joined the teams manning a discreet cordon around the mill. The window and rear door entry teams were poised, ready for the go. Vinnie watched from a distance as the armed entry team forced the front door and were in within seconds. There was a lot of shouting and then seconds later their radio burst into life. ‘Alpha team leader to control, target one not present, repeat, target one negative.’

  Vinnie shouted into the radio, ‘Control received. All units; strike, strike, strike.’

  Five minutes later, Vinnie drove his Volvo into the car park at the front of the disused mill. There was a line of marked police cars and a van already there. He and Harry got out and made their way to what was left of the front door. Outside stood a uniformed cop with a clipboard, clearly maintaining a scene log. Vinnie reminded the officer of their surnames and ranks before they entered.

  Beyond the door was a long corridor, which led to a set of steel stairs. On the first floor landing they found themselves standing in a large space of about twenty-five metres in length and fifteen metres in depth. At the end, by the gable end of the building, was a door which must once have been an office of some kind, probably a supervisor’s. The floor had long been stripped of machinery, and adorned with roping and sheets to create makeshift partitions and rooms. There were several officers walking to and fro with purpose. Vinnie looked up and could see a couple of sky lights covered in bird droppings, which limited the illumination and gave the whole place a dank, subdued ambience.

  ‘What a shithole,’ Harry said.

  Vinnie was about to reply when the sheet from the first partition opened and a female officer came out, carefully escorting a terrified-looking young woman of eastern Mediterranean appearance, skinny, with long black hair tied back. She wore a tracksuit that was far too big for her. As the sheet swung to, Vinnie caught a glimpse inside the makeshift room. There was a mattress on the floor, with some clothes suspended by string across the angle from the outside wall and the rope which served as a divider from the next compartment. The sheet hanging from the rope was fastened to the concrete floor with shoes and other objects, obviously designed to stop the makeshift wall from billowing. Vinnie turned to face Harry. ‘Now that’s a shithole; I can’t believe they use those areas as boudoirs, and make the women actually live in them.’

  ‘The kind of monsters who use those rooms as boudoirs aren’t the kind to give a damn where they are, and as for making the girls live there; it’s beyond belief,’ Harry replied.

  ‘No escape from their hell. Not even a different corner where they can separate the horror of being forced to do God knows what, from the horror of their enslavement,’ Vinnie said, realising that there was probably little difference between the two for the poor women.

  As they slowly made their way towards the office at the end of the room, more women were being led gently away from their sheeted hells. They all looked to be of similar age — late teens to mid-twenties — and of similar appearance. He noted something else as well; they all had that far-away stare. The one that stretches forever, yet looks nowhere.

  Heroin. He was sure of it. It was probably how Babik kept them all compliant.

  They reached the office door and Vinnie noted that Harry looked how he felt. Becalmed and saddened beyond measure. He had seen many things that he hadn’t wanted to, whilst a policeman, but today’s images were up there on the top shelf. Vinnie started to feel unclean.

  Before they could open the office door, it opened from within and the DS running the investigation on the ground came out hurriedly. She shut the door behind her on seeing Vinnie and Harry. This snapped Vinnie’s mind back into focus.

  ‘A quick word, sir, before you come in here,’ the DS said.

  ‘I’m the observer: Vinnie, you carry on,’ Harry replied.
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  ‘Call me Vinnie, and what have we got in there?’

  The DS reminded them that her name was Susan Grady, and then carried on. ‘In here is what you might call the madam. She is a local who says she has only been working for Babik a few months. Her name is Jody Watson and she’s got loads of minor form. She used to be a working girl herself. She says she was terrified of Babik and really wanted to quit once she realised that all the women were trafficked, but was too scared to.’

  Vinnie could feel what was coming next, and pre-empted it. ‘All very charming, Susan, but why is that sorry excuse for a human not already in handcuffs awaiting the van that will take her to her new home?’

  ‘That’s what I wanted to ask you.’ Susan explained that as soon as she cautioned Watson, she had spat out pretty much what she had just repeated. And then made an offer.

  ‘Go on,’ Vinnie said.

  ‘She’s asking not to be arrested, and in return she’ll be our star witness. She says she’ll give us enough to show us it’s not a bluff, and then if CPS agree she’ll give us all we could ever need to nail Babik.’

  ‘She’s obviously been around the courtroom herself a few times.’

  ‘All I’m suggesting is that we start off treating her as a witness. We can always lock her up later, if we choose. But if we lock her up first, there’ll be no going back. It’ll be a brief straight away, followed by “no comment” and a ticking custody clock.’

  Susan had made a valid point. Vinnie asked her to give him a minute and she nodded and headed back inside the office. He turned to face Harry. ‘OK observer, what do you think?’

  ‘Highly irregular, we should nick her and charge her with everything we can prove and then, if she wants to turn Queen’s evidence for a reduced sentence, so be it.’

  ‘I agree, Harry, but I can see one small problem.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Babik is not here and according to the intelligence brief we were given, no one knows where he is. He just turns up here as and when, and as soon as details of the raid become public, he’ll be long gone.’