Read Online Clean Cut by Lynda La Plante - Free Book Online
Authors: Lynda La Plante
Tags: Fiction, General, Mystery & Detective, Women Sleuths, Mystery Fiction, England, Women Detectives, London, Police Procedural, Murder, Investigation, Murder - Investigation, Women detectives - England - London, Travis; Anna (Fictitious Character)
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when he comes back. You’d best make yourself scarce.
‘Is there anywhere you think your brother would go to, to stay with someone who would be prepared to protect him?’
‘I wouldn’t know. I’ve not seen him for Christ knows how long.’
‘No one you can think of?’
‘No. Like I said, I’ve not been in contact with him since…’ She frowned, then put her mug of tea down and went over to an untidy sideboard. She opened one drawer after another, then took out a small photograph.
‘The last time he was released, Arthur come by and he was with this horrible bloke, stank of booze; they wanted money and my husband kicked them out. He warned Arthur that if he ever came back, he’d beat the hell out of him. For all his bravado and macho thing with women, he’s a wimp, but he had this guy with him and my kid Keith had this little throwaway camera…I don’t remember the other one’s name even, just that they’d met in prison; he and Arthur were bragging about stuff, and I made Sharon go up an’ stay in her room.’ She passed the photograph to Anna. ‘I remember him gloating about how he’d been living free of police supervision because of some legal loophole; he said something about the register. He and Arthur had had a fair amount to drink. That was when my husband had listened to enough and threw them out.’
Anna looked at the photograph. ‘And this was how many years ago?’
‘Two–no, longer. I dunno. I didn’t even have Tina then, so it’s a while back.’
‘So it wouldn’t have been here at the bungalow?’
‘No, me other place.’
‘Has he been here?’
Gail turned away and wiped her nose with her sleeve. ‘No, thank God.’
‘And this man with your brother, you don’t recall his name?’
‘No. Had a Newcastle accent though.’
Anna spent a while longer with Gail before she felt she was able to leave.
Brandon, sitting in the car, was impatient. He glared at her as she sat beside him. ‘I hope you bloody got something. I know I did–fleas! What a shithole. She should be reported to the social services for leaving that little kid on her own.’
Anna said nothing as he started up the engine and they drove out; just as they turned into the road, an open lorry piled high with pig food turned into the drive.
Back at the station they used computer imagery to identify the man in the photograph as Vernon Kramer. 1976: he had convictions for dishonesty and served twelve months. 1980: convicted of bodily harm and theft; received a six-month sentence. 1984: acquitted of three rapes. 1986: sentenced to six years for the rape and indecent assault of two fourteen-year-old girls. He was released early in 1990, after serving just three years. Eight months later, Kramer was sentenced to five years for the false imprisonment of a thirteen-year-old girl he abducted at knifepoint. This sentence coincided with Murphy’s conviction; the two men then served time in the same prison.
Anna sighed and turned to Brandon. ‘He was released yet again in January 1997. This is maybe what Gail meant–he gloated about being out too early to be listed on the sex offenders’ register.’
‘Yeah, him and thousands of others, because their crimes took place before the register was created. It was, believe it or not, feared they would claim their inclusion was a breach of bloody human rights! Makes me want to throw up.’
Anna nodded in agreement, then she turned over a page and looked to Brandon.
‘Last known address…you are not going to believe this, but it’s in Brixton–and not far from where our victim was living.’
Brandon approached and leaned over the back of her chair; he’d refreshed his cologne and she had to take a deep breath.
‘Let’s check it out,’ he said. ‘If he’s harbouring Murphy, we need to get in there–and fast.’
Not wanting to tip off Kramer, they used the old ‘voting register’ scam. Anna had agreed to act as a decoy; she would simply knock on the
‘Is there anywhere you think your brother would go to, to stay with someone who would be prepared to protect him?’
‘I wouldn’t know. I’ve not seen him for Christ knows how long.’
‘No one you can think of?’
‘No. Like I said, I’ve not been in contact with him since…’ She frowned, then put her mug of tea down and went over to an untidy sideboard. She opened one drawer after another, then took out a small photograph.
‘The last time he was released, Arthur come by and he was with this horrible bloke, stank of booze; they wanted money and my husband kicked them out. He warned Arthur that if he ever came back, he’d beat the hell out of him. For all his bravado and macho thing with women, he’s a wimp, but he had this guy with him and my kid Keith had this little throwaway camera…I don’t remember the other one’s name even, just that they’d met in prison; he and Arthur were bragging about stuff, and I made Sharon go up an’ stay in her room.’ She passed the photograph to Anna. ‘I remember him gloating about how he’d been living free of police supervision because of some legal loophole; he said something about the register. He and Arthur had had a fair amount to drink. That was when my husband had listened to enough and threw them out.’
Anna looked at the photograph. ‘And this was how many years ago?’
‘Two–no, longer. I dunno. I didn’t even have Tina then, so it’s a while back.’
‘So it wouldn’t have been here at the bungalow?’
‘No, me other place.’
‘Has he been here?’
Gail turned away and wiped her nose with her sleeve. ‘No, thank God.’
‘And this man with your brother, you don’t recall his name?’
‘No. Had a Newcastle accent though.’
Anna spent a while longer with Gail before she felt she was able to leave.
Brandon, sitting in the car, was impatient. He glared at her as she sat beside him. ‘I hope you bloody got something. I know I did–fleas! What a shithole. She should be reported to the social services for leaving that little kid on her own.’
Anna said nothing as he started up the engine and they drove out; just as they turned into the road, an open lorry piled high with pig food turned into the drive.
Back at the station they used computer imagery to identify the man in the photograph as Vernon Kramer. 1976: he had convictions for dishonesty and served twelve months. 1980: convicted of bodily harm and theft; received a six-month sentence. 1984: acquitted of three rapes. 1986: sentenced to six years for the rape and indecent assault of two fourteen-year-old girls. He was released early in 1990, after serving just three years. Eight months later, Kramer was sentenced to five years for the false imprisonment of a thirteen-year-old girl he abducted at knifepoint. This sentence coincided with Murphy’s conviction; the two men then served time in the same prison.
Anna sighed and turned to Brandon. ‘He was released yet again in January 1997. This is maybe what Gail meant–he gloated about being out too early to be listed on the sex offenders’ register.’
‘Yeah, him and thousands of others, because their crimes took place before the register was created. It was, believe it or not, feared they would claim their inclusion was a breach of bloody human rights! Makes me want to throw up.’
Anna nodded in agreement, then she turned over a page and looked to Brandon.
‘Last known address…you are not going to believe this, but it’s in Brixton–and not far from where our victim was living.’
Brandon approached and leaned over the back of her chair; he’d refreshed his cologne and she had to take a deep breath.
‘Let’s check it out,’ he said. ‘If he’s harbouring Murphy, we need to get in there–and fast.’
Not wanting to tip off Kramer, they used the old ‘voting register’ scam. Anna had agreed to act as a decoy; she would simply knock on the