Episode 17 - Alice Crane II

On Monday morning, Cleo and Gary paid the women’s security prison a second visit as arranged. While Cleo drove, Gary described the discovery of Margot Smith’s corpse, but soon got drowsy from the sound of the car engine and his own voice and went to sleep until Cleo stopped the car.

“I was asleep,” said Gary gratuitously. “You should have woken me.”

“I knew the way and you looked so peaceful.”

“I’d sleep better with you next to me,” he said.

“I am next to you.”

***

This time, having again negotiated the safety precautions with what Gary thought was ridiculous ease, with the warders greeting them like old friends and not bothering with any checks at all, Alice Crane was glad to see them.

After listening with obvious gratification to the description of Daniels’ brutal actions and arrest, Crane told Cleo and Gary that she had known that all along.

“But there’s no record of your saying anything to that effect in the court or police reports,” said Gary. “You could have saved yourself the mess you’re in.”

The interview threatened to be on the same lines as the first one.

“Would anyone have believed me?” said Crane.

“If Mrs Daniels had been exhorted by your lawyer to tell the truth, they would have had to.”

“My lawyer was working for the judge, not for me, and Mrs Daniels said nothing to anyone. In fact, she insisted the whole time that nothing was amiss in her family life.”

“She was under pressure from that brute of a man,” said Cleo, showing Crane a photo of the sorry state Mrs Daniels was in when she was found a couple of days ago. “She was severely injured, Miss Crane.”

“Mrs Daniels could not defend her child, let alone herself.”

“It was wrong not to say anything about your own suspicions, Miss Crane,” said Gary.

“What good are suspicions without any proof?”

“There was the bruising on Mrs Daniels’ body,” said Cleo.

“But she never gave a hint of any abuse, and they thought they had the guilty person – me.”

“It would have helped if someone who witnessed the child’s accident had come forward, Miss Crane,” Gary said.

”I did not see anyone,” said Crane.

“Not even Banu?”

“She was jealous of me. Why would she say anything to help me?”

“So you did see her,” said Gary.

“She’d dead now. There is no point in talking about her,” said Crane.

Cleo decided to be more explicit. There had to be something she could ask that would make Crane tell them more. Could she risk mentioning what had been going through her mind for hours?

“Did you recognize the man following Banu Akbari, Alice?”

“Akbari?”

Alice Crane lowered her head. Cleo thought she had hit on something at last. There was simply no way forward unless Crane told the truth about her lack of self-defence.

“I think…….” said Cleo.

Alice Crane interrupted. Had this coloured woman guessed what had gone on?

“What do you think, Miss?”

“I think you were having an affair with Mr Akbari. Banu was his wife and she was following you around to get evidence of what was going on. She was jealous, wasn’t she?”

Gary could have kicked himself for not thinking of that angle. In fact, Cleo had not thought of it before a brief phone call with Dorothy the previous evening.

Gary drew Cleo away.

“Who thought of that angle?” he asked in a half-whisper. It annoyed him that those women had again hit the spot. “No don’t tell me. Dorothy had her say.”

“It was mutual intuition,” replied Cleo.

Cleo went back to Crane. Crane was silent for some time before screaming “Did Berta spill the beans?”

“Berta?” Gary wanted to know. Not another female character to add to the list.

“That’s the woman Dorothy had a chat with the other day at the tower block in Beethoven Road,” Cleo explained.

Gary regretted not asking Cleo what her intentions were with regard to the Crane interview, but he did not say anything. He had fallen asleep during the drive. That was one reason they had not discussed the interview.

“Well did she?” said Crane in a normal voice. The warder had warned her not to shout.

“Berta did not tell my colleague anything like that,” said Cleo. “But that’s what happened, isn’t it?”

Alice Crane relapsed into silence.

“Where is Akbari now, Alice?” Cleo asked. “Do you know?  We need him to witness that the child was chasing a pigeon when it fell.”

“I don’t think he would admit to anything even if he saw it happen. He’s too busy saving his own skin.”

“I thought you had a relationship with him.”

“It was on his terms, not mine.”

“What terms?” Cleo asked.

“The usual.”

Before Cleo could press on with that angle, Gary interrupded.

“If you know anything at all, tell us, Miss Crane,” he said. “We are helping you, so you must help us.”

Crane had taken a dislike to Gary, which was foolish of her, considering that he was on her side.

“I tell you I don’t know anything,” she snapped.

“Do you think Akbari is capable of murder, Miss Crane?”

“You’re the cop. You find out.”

Cleo thought Gary had asked for that retort by moving ahead too fast. But she had to support his revised tactic. She looked closely at Crane.

“I wouldn’t put it past him,” said Crane through pursed lips.

“You received a letter from him here, didn’t you, Miss Crane?” said Gary.

“Who told you that?”

“The prison authorities keep tabs on their residents.”

“I ripped it up and flushed it down the toilet.”

“What was in it?”

“I don’t remember.”

Alice Crane was obviously lying, but why? Didn’t she want to save her own skin?

Cleo wondered if the prison people had photocopied the letter. She would not annoy Gary by asking him now. Producing Mitch’s photo of Akbari would be a better way forward.

Seeing Cleo taking the envelope containing Mitch’s photo out of her handbag, Gary nodded his approval.

Alice Crane was clearly startled.

“Where did you take that photo, Miss Hartley?”

“I didn’t. A friend did, at his restaurant, for security reasons.”

“Can I have it?”

“Why do you want it?”

“No particular reason.”

Again, Alice Crane was prevaricating. Cleo thought she should hustle her a bit, but Gary got in first. Nigel had done some research on that prison and Cleo did not know about it. The old rivalry was at work again. Cleo sensed it and thought it childish, but Gary seemed to thrive on it; at least it forced him to make a special effort, if only to cap what Cleo did.

“He also phoned the prison several times, but you didn’t take the calls. Why?” said Gary.

Cleo looked at Gary. At that moment she hated him.

“I took one or two. Your bloody prison authorities didn’t catch on when he called himself Michael.”

So that was the mysterious caller. Simple but ingenious. Change your name, call from a different phone each time and you get through the net. But Akbari no longer made contact with the prisoner, as far as Gary know.

“It’s all over between us,” said Crane.

“His decision, Miss Crane?” Gary asked.

“No. Mine.”

“Why?”

“He is a killer.”

“Why didn’t you say that when I asked you before?” said Gary

“Your question took me by surprise.”

“Did he tell you he had killed someone?”

“Not in so many words.”

“But you think it’s possible,” said Cleo. ”Do you think he killed his wife, Alice?”

“I know he did. He told me he would if she interfered in our affair.”

“How did she interfere, Miss Crane?”

“She stalked us. Akbari did not like his outside interests being disturbed.”

That was one way of putting it, thought Gary.

“Yesterday we found the body of Margot Smith,” he said, now anxious not to let Cleo take over the questioning. “Why did he kill her?”

“She could have sneaked on him or wanted more cash,” said Crane. “She was a particularly nasty person.”

“So you knew her personally, did you?” said Gary.

“She checked on baby-sitters. I often asked myself if she was checking on the kids.”

“She probably was, Alice,” said Cleo.

“What did she want to tell tales about?” Gary asked.

“I’m guessing. Probably drugs and abduction. Those women wanted a bigger cut for ignoring things. Akbari told me that.”

“What things.”

“Why don’t you ask the Singleton woman to tell you?” said Crane.

“Did he retaliate by threatening them with exposure, Alice?” asked Cleo.

“I expect he did. His crimes did not include smuggling kids,” said Crane.

“Are you sure, Miss Crane,” said Gary.

“Yes.”

“Those social workers were getting away with their little game, but that did not involve Akbari,” said Gary, not really believing Crane.

“Little game? They had a lucrative business going with Singleton calling the tune. No one was allowed to interfere.”

Cleo wondered if Crane had got it right. It sounded like Akbari’s sort of crime.

“What business exactly?” Cleo asked, though she knew the answer. She wanted to hear it from the woman.

“Women, especially pregnant ones.”

Cleo could not help feeling triumphant. Why would Crane make that claim if it wasn’t true? She had nothing to lose.

“Akbari was versatile,” said Gary. “He spread his nets far and wide.”

“Meaning?” said Crane.

“For instance, he has started killing all the women who could be a danger to him.”

“What has that to do with me?” Crane asked.

“That’s exactly the question I was going to ask, Miss Crane. If you get out of here, you might become another of his victims.”

“Never. He loves me.”

Now it was Cleo’s turn to wonder what went on in Crane’s mind.

“He seems to have had a way with women,” said Cleo.

Crane bit her lip. Eventually she said resentfully “He got his way with every woman who crossed his path. He slept with all the welfare women, too. But he really only wanted me. The others were business.”

Crane had obviously had enough time in prison to find her own answers to some of the questions. Did she now believe she was protecting Akbari in some sort of backhanded way?

“What about Sybil Garnet?” said Gary.

“She’s alive.”

“How do you know that?”

“I just do.”

“But her kid was his, wasn’t it Alice?”

“I was not in bed with them,” said Crane.

More hedging. How much did Alice Crane really know? Was she prepared to stay in prison to shield a man who had deserted her and possibly killed his wife and several others?

Cleo was starting to unravel the contradictions outside her own body. She was getting confirmation of a flourishing baby-trading business. She would risk the consequences of posing the next question.

“Who is the father of Sybil’s child, Alice, if it is not Akbari?”

Alice found the question very amusing. “Any one of a crowd of clients,” She chuckled. “Sybil was popular, damn her.”

Her sneer contained more than just a hint of resentment.

“But you think it was Akbari, don’t you?”

If Anna’s father was Iranian, it would explain the dark eyes and blond hair of the child, Cleo reasoned.

“A straight answer would be helpful,” she told Crane. “Just answer yes or no.”

“She never said.”

“Was Akbari one of her clients, or did she work for him?”

Crane shrugged her shoulders. Bastards were a common occurrence in the prostitution milieu. The babies’ fathers were seldom identified and almost never registered.

“It must have saddened Banu Akbari to see what kind of a man she had married.”

“Don’t make me laugh. She was a reformed prostitute herself. Reformed through what she thought was a clever marriage, and that only happened because she threatened to spill the beans about how she got into the country.”

“That does not make sense, Miss Crane,” said Gary. “Prostitutes are usually at the bottom end of the power pyramid and she would be admitting she was illegally here. That can’t have been in her interest.”

“Use your imagination, if you have any,” Crane retorted.

Cleo thought Crane was now going too far, though Gary was not making a good impression. She would intervene before he could respond to that insult.

“Mr Hurley is on your side, Alice,” she said.

“OK. Akbari covered his tricks with other tricks. Dealt in currencies, drugs, all sorts of stuff, even orphans. Sybil found out and Bob’s your uncle.”

Gary rose to that bait, though now he was almost certain Crane was acting out of spite by making those accusations.

“Meaning that he organized Sybil’s daughter’s abduction to punish her?” said Cleo.

Crane gestured that she did not know for sure.

“But you say that he traded in women and children, Miss Crane, as well as other crimes including money-laundering and drugs,” said Gary.

“Something like that.”

Cleo wondered if Gary would act on that information that had been handed to him almost on a plate. Surely, he would now make a big effort to find Akbari. Would Crane think better of giving away enough information to trap the guy? He had discarded her, but she still loved him.

“Are we talking about a sort of Iranian Mafia, Miss Crane?” Cleo asked.

“Could be.”

Cleo thought investigating Mafiosi methods would be out of her depth. She would pursue the relationship line.

“But Banu came back to the district despite the danger she might be in,” volunteered Crane.

“You mean after she had hidden the child for all that time?” said Cleo.

“Yes.”

“Where did she hide Anna, Miss Crane?” Gary asked.

“She knew immigrants in the far north of Scotland including someone who fancied her. She kept that a secret, and so did I, of course.”

Cleo took over the questioning. Gary seemed satisfied with what he now knew, but Cleo wasn’t.

“She should have stayed in Scotland. Didn’t she realize how ruthless Akbari is?” said Gary.

“I don’t know.”

“Did Banu know that Akbari was Anna’s father?”

“I think she guessed.”

“What was the relationship between Sybil and Akbari after her child disappeared?”

“I don’t know.”

“Did Sybil suspect Akbari of kidnapping her child?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t want to know,” said Crane, who was clearly tired of all the questions.

Cleo often wondered how women could tolerate men they loved paying for sex with prostitutes, but of course, it went on all the time and married men made up a high percentage of ‘clients’, so Alice Crane would turn a blind eye to it all, just as countless other women did. Personal rivalry would be suppressed in favour of some kind of controlled status quo.

“Did Akbari ‘manage’ you, as well, Miss Crane?” said Gary.

“I wasn’t a prostitute.”

“What do you think the main problem between Akbari and Sybil was, Miss Crane?” Gary asked.

“I think it must have been when he first found out that little Anna was his child,” Crane said. “Up till then she had run for him professionally and I think he just used his ‘rights’ as her ‘manager’. Then she was fancied one particular guy and did it for nothing. There’s a difference between running for a man as a prostitute and being privately a pair. A pimp does not want his girls to become attached to clients.”

Gary thought the whole business was sordid and below him. He would have liked to leave it to the vice squad, but he couldn’t since murder was involved.

Crane seemed anxious to say more.

 “I think Banu was suspicious. She may have told Akbari either that she knew, or that she suspected him of being the father. Either way, he would not want his carelessness to become known in the trade.”

“Would that be a motive for killing her, Alice?” said Cleo.

“It’s possible.”

“But Banu could have taken revenge on him,” said Gary.

“So why didn’t she kill him or even murder the kid?” Alice Crane asked.

“She wouldn’t go that far,” said Cleo. “Revenge is only sweet if the target lives to regret whatever it is that he or she has done. What really puzzles me is why he didn’t kill Sybil.”

Alice Crane had an explanation for that, too. “She is the kid’s mother, Miss.”

So Akbari wasn’t quite such a monster, after all, Cleo decided. There must be something in his past that had made him the Jekyll and Hyde guy he clearly was.

“We’ll trace Sybil and listen to her version of the story,” Gary promised. “She has nothing much to lose and everything to gain, including her lost daughter.”

“That’s the first decent thing you’ve said, Mr,” said Crane. “I’ll give you a tip. Sybil’s parents’ name is Barnet.”

They knew that from Dorothy’s report on Berta. Cleo did not comment.

“Did she ever tell you where they live?” Gary asked.

“Somewhere in the West Country. On a farm.”

“Why did Sybil change her name to Garnet?”

“I don’t think she wanted to be found and dragged back.”

“One last question, Miss Crane,” said Gary. “Did Banu Akbari ever get in touch with you after she disappeared with the child?”

“No.”

“Are you sure you don’t know where Akbari is now, Alice?” Gary asked.

“No. I told you that.”

“We can trace him if we have to,” said Gary. “We have our methods, Miss Crane.”

“So why ask me in the first place?”

“You don’t really want us to find him, do you?” said Cleo in a soft, cajoling voice.

Alice Crane got up and signalled to the warder to take her back to her cell. She did not look at Cleo and Gary again. Cleo thought she had hit on the truth. Gary did not know what to think, but by the time they got outside, he had put two and two together.

“I don’t think she expected us to link her with Akbari,” Gary announced as they walked back to Cleo’s car, “though she must know that any contact with a prisoner here is recorded.”

“She confirmed his identity, Gary. There’ll be a photocopy of the letter to her. Are you going to ask for it?”

“Yes, but from Headquarters. That’s more official. That blasted woman might find out too soon that her precious letter was not a secret missive and get a warder to destroy it.”

“You really dislike her, don’t you?”

“I don’t need to like the Cranes of this world and I wouldn’t trust this one further than I can throw her.”

“But there was no reason to be so heavy-handed, Gary. You can’t expect her to cooperate if you are aggressive.”

“That woman is corrupt and sly. Why should I treat her with respect?”

“Losing your temper is a sign that you are losing control. That is never a good idea.”

“On reflection, I agree. It was bad form to be offhand with her,” Gary admitted

“Not that you don’t have a point. She won’t have told us everything.”

“Akbari got through to her simply by changing his name and phone number. The next phone call from Akbari alias Michael will be monitored on instructions from HQ.”

“There won’t be one.”

“How do you know that?”

“She said it was her last call from him. Presumably she told him to stay out of her life or else … But he would, anyway,” Cleo surmised. “She will have told him that she is not an informer, so he can leave her alone.”

“There won’t be any more contact because our friend Akbari doesn’t not take risks,” Gary said. “I hope she is safe in that prison.”

“Unless someone kills her through the grill,” said Cleo.  “Or a warder fakes an attack and kills her.”

“Don’t call that spirit up, please,” said Gary.

“Talking about spirits, I wish you’d get out of the habit of wanting to do a better job than me,” said Cleo. “For a moment in that room I started to dislike you.”

Gary was shocked.

“When was that?” he said.

“I noticed that you did not like me asking questions,” said Cleo. “You have to stop thinking like a cop, Gary. You sometimes forget the psychological side altogether.”

“Do you think that?”

“Yes, when I have to fill in the gaps.”

“Is this problem coming between us, Cleo?”

“No, Sweetheart. I love you even when you are a pain in the arse.”

“That’s all right then.”

“Let’s talk about Margot Smith’s role,” said Cleo. “She must have been in the thick of things, if she was worth killing.”

“I wonder if Crane and Smith had dealings with one another.”

“If Smith knew what had been going on between Crane and the guy she thought loved her, it would inspire some kind of action,” said Cleo.

“Meaning that you suspect Akbari of being Margot Smith’s guest.”

“I expect Akbari knew how to keep the peace with a timely sex act,” said Cleo.

“Followed by casual throat-slitting, you mean?”

“I know one thing for sure, and that is that Alice Crane is scared. She knows more than is good for her, Gary.”

“Then let’s hope that prison is secure enough to keep her alive.”

“Who does she share her cell with? Could there be a leak there?”

“I’ll find out, but Akbari is still our prime suspect, Cleo.”

“And a master at covering his tracks.”

“Forensics will have some results for us soon. Chris must compare all the evidence from Smith’s and Devonport’s murders. Someone must have sent Banu her money to live on,” said Gary. “And that somebody, probably Akbari, knew where she was.”

“Or she went back on the streets,” said Cleo.

“Is there nothing that kind of woman is incapable of, Cleo?”

“Not as long as her ‘work’ pays the bills,” said Cleo.

***

Men like Gary who did not visit prostitutes found them seedy and underhand. Men who did visit prostitutes were not usually interested in why a woman sold her body.

For a few miles they drove in silence.

***

“Another thought: Do prisons report everything that goes on to a higher authority, Gary?”

“God knows. I expect some of it appears in some duty report or other. Warders are not paid enough to secure their undying loyalty to the crown or an ability to write comprehensively or even coherently.”

“One of the staff could be conveying messages. You don’t need perfect prose for that,” said Cleo.

“There’s no way we can effectively prevent that sort of thing, especially if the go-betweens are being paid for it. Prison warders don’t live on the fat of the land and they don’t have an easy job. They are glad of a bit of extra cash.”

“I wonder who Alice Crane’s contacts are,“ said Cleo.

“Let’s start with the letter Akbari sent Alice Crane,” said Gary.

“we only know about one. There could be more.”

“Hell! I wish I’d taken up landscape gardening,” said Gary.

“There are bugs in gardens, too.”

“Roger Stone would know what to do.”

“Ask him.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why not? He knows the prison workings, quite apart from his estranged wife doing time there.”

“What should I ask him, Cleo?”

“If Crane still loves Akbari – and I’m sure she does - no matter what he’s done she will want to protect him.”

“Then I could ask Stone what he would do.”

“I think you should.”

“Damn women who love men to distraction,” said Gary.

“Damn Romeos who kill the women they’ve finished with,” Cleo retorted. “All women in intense relationships run that risk. Have you ever considered that, Gary?”

“At least Alice Crane is still safe while she’s behind bars.”

“I would not bet on that,” said Cleo.