‘Did you get any new information?’ Jack asked, trying not to sound impatient.
‘Not that much. He was very cagey. They still have no ID, but the fella’s not in good shape. They found no clothes that would help to identify him as he was bollock naked. No paperwork, no official documents, just a few receipts. They did get the name of the bloke that runs the place though.’
‘Did they arrest him?’
‘What?’
‘You said they got someone that ran the shop.’
‘Oh, right, yes. I had to be a bit careful, Jack, you know, not give away why I was interested, but eventually he said they’d picked him up in some bar. Claimed he’d been in Southampton and didn’t know anything about it. Said he was just a hired hand who collected all the frames and he’d never actually met the owner. Oh, got paid in cash and not always by the same person and the cross was apparently used at S&M parties. You ever been to one of them, Jack?’
‘Can’t say that I have. Did they arrest this guy?’
‘They did, but he was released when his alibi checked out. He’ll be back in for further questioning though; Mr Norman O’Reilly has a sheet as long as my arm. He’s done time for armed robbery, GBH, assault with a deadly weapon, handling stolen property, you name it. I checked him out.’
‘OK, that’s all very interesting. Thanks, Laura. Like you said, I owe you big.’ Jack ended the call and pulled up the records on Norman O’Reilly as Maggie tapped on the door.
‘Did Laura get anything useful?’
‘Yeah, they still have no ID on the victim, but they arrested this guy, Norman O’Reilly. Apparently, he has a firmed-up alibi but remains, as they say, a person of interest. He’s the nasty piece of work I met at the shop: long record, spent more time in the nick than out of it, but claims not to know who owns the lease or buys the frames.’
Maggie leaned in to look at the mugshot of the bullish face holding up his ID and number. ‘I hope you can trust her, Jack. I mean, if she was drunk when she called you, I worry she was loose-lipped with this detective she was drinking with.’
Jack put his arm around her shoulders as they walked out. ‘I’ll know more in the morning. I’m on the early shift.’
‘So am I. God, I’m knackered,’ she said yawning.
‘I suppose a fuck’s out of the question?’
Maggie laughed. ‘I didn’t say that.’
Chapter 20
The station was unusually busy. Jack had arrived early to have breakfast in the canteen and hopefully catch Laura and check she was keeping her lips sealed. Today, the canteen queue seemed to go on forever as a large number of officers had been brought in for a major briefing in the boardroom. Apparently DI Armani and her team of probationary officers had gathered a lot of new information relating to gang members and their families over the weekend.
Jack had a memo left on his desk with a detailed report of the weekend’s results and instructions to familiarise himself with the contents. He’d only glanced at it before taking off his jacket and going to the canteen. Returning to the incident room, Jack saw Laura, looking very hungover, flicking through a similar memo.
‘Morning Laura, you look like you need a coffee.’
‘I’ve already had three and I’ve still got a terrible headache. I blame you, Jack.’
‘What is going on? All these extra uniforms in the canteen and a big briefing this morning.’
‘Things have been moving at quite a pace over the weekend. The probationers are knackered. They’ve been on rotation, 24-7.’
DI Armani, wearing a very smart tailored suit and carrying a stack of files, appeared at the door. ‘Five minutes before we kick off, everyone, please be prompt. We have a lot to discuss this morning.’ She headed in the direction of DCI Clarke’s office.
Jack was taken aback by the amount of information on display: photographs, addresses and other personal details and criminal record sheets took up three large whiteboards. Chairs had been arranged around the table, and more lined the walls. The room began to fill up. With a packet of paracetamol and a cup of coffee in her hand, Laura sat beside Jack.
‘My God, they have been busy,’ she said. ‘Glad it was my weekend off.’
Soon, the available chairs at the table had been taken, so the remaining uniformed officers had to stand against the wall. DI Armani entered, the door held open by DCI Clarke. She took off her jacket, putting the file on the table in front of her. She picked up a pointer stick as DCI Clarke took one of two reserved seats at the front of the room. She did not need to ask for everyone’s attention. The room had gone silent as soon as she entered.
‘Firstly, I would like to thank our terrific group of probationary detectives who worked the weekend to gain a good deal of valuable information about these two warring gangs that have dominated the area for far too long.’
Using her pointer stick, she indicated board one.
‘These are all the known members of the ZRDO gang, with photographs and, where possible, personal details and police records. These are the names of members still at school. The second board lists all the crew identified as belonging to LEPO. Again, you can see their details and records. We also have some undercover footage to show you from gang territories, occupied streets, fresh no-go areas including tags and coded graffiti warnings.’
Lastly, she moved to the third board. She stood, arms folded, with the pointer beneath her arm like a sergeant major. ‘These are the addresses and contact numbers for parents and families of as many gang members as we’re able to find. The names with a star denote single parents, and the ones with a black cross indicate family members incarcerated. As you can see, there are high levels of single parents and imprisonment, meaning parental control is going to be low.’
There were scattered murmurs of dissent, which Armani quickly dismissed: ‘Targeting gang members and making arrests is one thing, but if we’re going to have any chance of getting control of this situation in the long term, we need to get the families on board, working with us...’
Hands shot into the air as the officers started to voice their opinions. Jack exchanged a meaningful look with Laura and two other officers they worked with. What DI Armani was talking about felt like community outreach, not the sort of policing they were committed to, dealing with serious crimes.
The doors opened and a trolley with tea and coffee was wheeled into the room. Armani announced a five-minute break, grabbed her mobile and strode from the room. Jack waited for a couple of minutes then did the same. But he had no intention of returning. If asked, he would point out that someone of rank should be monitoring the incident room.
As Jack walked into the incident room, he immediately saw Armani. She looked as if she was about to ask him why he’d left the meeting but before she got a chance, the door banged open and Detective Sergeant Ed Burrows, an old hand who manned the intelligence cell on the ground floor, gestured urgently to her.
‘Yes?’
‘Mrs Barras has been taken to St Thomas’s, and they’ve made an arrest, Ma’am,’ he said, breathlessly.
She hurried over to him and conducted a whispered conversation.
‘Everything all right, Ma’am?’ Jack asked, approaching nearer so he could hear.
‘Yes, yes,’ she said dismissively.
‘This is my case,’ Jack said forcefully. ‘If George Barras has been arrested, I should be the one to interview him.’
Armani nodded for Burrows to leave, then closed the door, and turned to face Jack. She took a deep breath. ‘George has attacked Maria again. She’s been taken to St Thomas’s hospital and is in a critical state. He ran off, but a uniform quickly tracked him down. He’s now in custody at Fulham station.’