Chapter 54
Stanford handed Henley a large cup of coffee. ‘Any updates?’ he asked.
‘Not good. Ezra’s not good at all,’ Henley replied. ‘Fractured skull, swelling on the brain. Broken collarbone, cracked ribs and a broken wrist. He’s in critical condition but stable. We just have to pray that he comes around when they pull him out of the medically-induced coma.’
‘Shit,’ Stanford replied, his voice thick with tears. He placed his mug on the window ledge and pressed his forehead against the glass. ‘He doesn’t deserve this. He’s just a fucking kid.’
‘Paul,’ Henley said, fighting back her own tears as she joined him at the window and put her arms around him. ‘He’s going to be OK.’
‘You don’t know that.’
‘I have to believe it.’
‘He should be walking in here with his disgusting green juice and moaning about the murder board,’ said Stanford. He pulled away from the window and wiped his face. ‘I can’t believe that fucking group of vigilantes decided that a kid was a threat to them.’
Henley shook her head. ‘It was one man according to the witnesses and he would have killed Ezra if he hadn’t been interrupted.’
‘Who’s dealing with it?’ Stanford asked.
‘Peckham CID. Ezra’s case is nothing to do with us, but the OIC has promised to keep us updated,’ Henley said. She put her mug down and rubbed her puffy eyes.
‘What time did you finish last night?’ Stanford asked with concern. ‘You look knackered.’
Henley groaned as she checked the time. It was almost 8 a.m..
‘We finished interviewing Fonseka at around 9 p.m. but I didn’t get home until midnight.
I’d just fallen asleep when Pellacia called.
I haven’t even been home to change,’ she said, looking down at the hoodie she was wearing that belonged to Rob.
‘You should sleep. Take a nap downstairs.’
‘I’m too wired to sleep,’ Henley said as Pellacia walked in, making his way to his office without acknowledging either of them.
‘He looks even worse than you do,’ Stanford said. ‘Can’t say that I’m sorry.’
‘Are you going to talk to him?’
‘Nope. I said everything I had to say to him earlier. Ezra should never have been put in harm’s way. He took his eyes off the ball.’
‘Did you tell him that when you led him away?’ Henley asked.
‘Something like that,’ Stanford admitted. ‘Not my finest hour but he was behaving like a twat. What about you?’
‘Me? Absolutely not,’ said Henley as she watched Pellacia’s closed door. ‘I know him well enough to know that he wouldn’t even hear me right now and the last thing we need is for him to think we’re bitching about him. Best to leave him, but more importantly we need to keep Ramouter out of his way.’
‘I’ve never seen that side of Ramouter before,’ Stanford said with surprise.
‘I don’t know what he would have done if you weren’t there.’
‘Don’t even think about it. Eastwood said she was taking him to the café. Trying to get him in a good place before he comes back to work.’
‘It will take more than a full English to put Ramouter in a stable mood,’ Henley said as the phone on her desk rang and Southwark CSI appeared on the display screen.
‘Let me know when you’re ready to get started,’ said Stanford, turning his chair and waking up his computer.
Henley nodded as she picked up the phone.
‘Inspector Henley, SCU.’
‘It’s Anthony. I’ve got news for you. It’s up to you whether you take it as good or bad.’
‘What is it?’ Henley asked, catching the exhaustion in Anthony’s voice.
‘Members of my team were allocated to Ezra’s case. I made it a priority and there’s no way I wasn’t going to keep you in the loop.’
‘Thank you,’ Henley said, sipping the coffee that Stanford had made extra strong. ‘So, what have you got for me?’
‘We were able to recover fingerprints from the standpipe that was used to assault Ezra and DNA from the broken strap of Ezra’s rucksack. Unfortunately, we didn’t get a hit with the fingerprints but Ezra being a clever little bugger had a lot of skin under his fingernails.’
‘He must have been scratching away, defending himself,’ said Henley.
‘Getting evidence for us,’ said Anthony. ‘The labs are chocked full with a backlog so I can’t say when we’ll get a DNA result back.’
‘Shit,’ Henley said as an image of Ezra lying in the hospital bed, his face swollen and bruised and his head heavily bandaged as the monitor recorded his vitals flashed in her mind and hot coffee spilled on to her fingers.
‘You all right?’
‘Not really,’ Henley paused as the door opened and the borough commander, Geraldine Barker, walked in. ‘Anthony, I’ve got to leave you, but thank you.’
‘So, let me see if I’ve understood this correctly,’ said Barker as she stood in front of the SCU team. ‘Fonseka will only reveal the name of the man we know as Don if he’s granted immunity from prosecution?’
‘That’s the long and short of it, ma’am,’ said Henley.
‘How much time do you have left on Fonseka’s custody clock?’
Henley checked the clock on the wall. ‘Four hours and thirty-four minutes,’ she said. ‘As far as I’m concerned, I’ve had enough of Fonseka wasting our time with this immunity nonsense.’
‘I agree. You’ve got more than enough to charge him with conspiracy to murder and misconduct in a public office,’ said Barker. ‘It’s between him and his legal team to propose a deal to the prosecution. I want him charged and out of my cells before lunchtime.’
‘We can do that,’ said Pellacia who had been sitting quietly next to Henley.
‘Are we any closer to identifying this Don?’
‘Not yet but we’ve circulated enhanced CCTV images of the vehicles seen at the scene of the acid attack.
We’ve also got the description that Laurence Durant gave us.
The composite image is on the Crimestoppers website and has been shown on the local news.
We’re also arranging for the witnesses at the acid attack scene to give their full statements,’ said Pellacia.
‘And what about Mikaela Fonseka?’
‘No idea,’ said Henley. ‘The last sighting of her was about an hour after Elliot Fonseka was arrested. A neighbour saw her entering her home and leaving forty-five minutes later.’
‘And what about the Section 18 search?’
‘We retrieved copies of court documents from the garden office, and we seized the computer equipment but there were signs that someone had left in a hurry, ma’am,’ said Copeland.
‘The wardrobe in the main bedroom was in a state of disarray and what appeared to be a document folder had been emptied on the bed. We recovered Elliot Fonseka’s passport, birth certificate and insurance papers but nothing for his wife. ’
‘She’s clearly on the run but I don’t think that the remaining defendants on their list are safe,’ said Pellacia. ‘Bartholomew Gardner, Mason and Paige Jones.’
‘Which is one of the reasons why I’m here this morning,’ said Barker. ‘UK protected persons services are refusing to offer protection on the grounds that there isn’t a real and imminent threat to their lives.’
‘The fact that we’ve got eight people on our board, six of them dead, isn’t evidence of a real and imminent threat?’ said Stanford.
Barker raised her eyebrow at Stanford.
‘Sorry, ma’am,’ he added.
‘Look, I understand the frustration, but that is the reality. My hands are completely tied and, before you even suggest it, I do not have the bodies spare to sit on Gardner and the Joneses until they’re either convicted and remanded immediately in custody, or your outstanding suspects are caught.’
‘There’s no reason why I couldn’t do it,’ said Stanford. ‘I did a stint in parliamentary and diplomatic protection.’
‘I know that the SCU can often behave as though they’re a law unto themselves but that is not happening,’ Barker said sternly. ‘One of your team is already in the hospital. That should be warning enough.’
‘So, what’s the plan, Henley?’ Ramouter asked as Pellacia led Barker into his office and closed the door. ‘We just can’t sit here waiting for another defendant to end up dead.’
‘I’m very aware of that,’ Henley said, fighting against the waves of exhaustion.
The lack of sleep and the energy it took to be strong and not be overwhelmed by not only her emotions and attachment to Ezra but also the rest of the SCU, was taking its toll.
She’d had to lock up her emotions when Joanna had broken down in tears when she’d heard the news about Ezra.
‘Stanford, you’re covering the charge of Elliot Fonseka,’ said Henley. ‘I sent over the file to the CPS last night, which means that they’ve got everything they need for a charging decision.’
‘Just to be clear, we’re opposing bail, right?’ asked Stanford. ‘Perverting the course of justice, commission of further offences.’
‘Add fail to surrender. Remember he ran from Copeland. Tell the CPS the clock is ticking, and we want Fonseka in front of a judge this afternoon. Eastwood, you’re happy to stick with the CCTV?’
‘That’s fine. I’ve also just received an email from the OIC who was dealing with the Ferguson acid attack. He’s sent me CCTV footage retrieved from the pub’s external cameras. I’ve got enough to keep me busy.’
‘That just leaves us with Gardner and the Joneses,’ said Henley as she faced Copeland and Ramouter.
‘Copeland, you’re on Gardner. We may not be able to provide him with protection, but we can bloody warn him and also find out if there’s any instances of harassment.
Basically, anything that would make him believe his life is at risk. ’
‘I’m off to Southwark Crown Court then?’ asked Copeland.
‘Yeah, and you’re also on Mika Fonseka. We asked the bank and her credit card company to alert us if there’s any activity on her cards but—’
‘I’ll chase them,’ said Copeland, gathering her things.
‘So, I take it that we’re dealing with the Joneses,’ asked Ramouter, his eyes fixed on Pellacia’s closed door.
‘We are. The last thing this unit needs is anyone complaining that we sat on our hands and did nothing when we knew people’s lives were at risk but first, you and I need a chat,’ said Henley.
‘Boss, I don’t think that—’
‘I don’t need you to think. Meet me in the old canteen in fifteen minutes.’
Henley joined Ramouter on the old sofa and handed him a cup.
‘More coffee,’ said Ramouter.
‘I doubt that any of us had much sleep,’ said Henley. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘Do you want the truth or a lie?’
‘The truth.’
‘And can you not be my boss in this moment?’ Ramouter asked.
Henley sighed with exhaustion and resignation. ‘You get a wild card,’ she said. ‘I’m not going to sit here and pretend I’m not upset and that it didn’t scare me to death to see Ezra in that hospital bed. I’ve been asking myself if there was more I could have done to protect Ezra.’
‘It’s not your fault. You didn’t—’
‘Ezra’s my responsibility too and I didn’t do my job. I was the one who took him to the Soteria offices. He wouldn’t have met Kaiden Longley if it wasn’t for me,’ Henley insisted as Ramouter put his head in his hands.
‘He’s just a kid,’ Ramouter said, choking back tears. ‘And he’s a good kid.’
Henley swallowed back her own tears as she gently placed her hand on Ramouter’s back. They sat there silently for a few minutes.
‘Ezra will pull through,’ said Henley.
Ramouter sat up and picked up his coffee. ‘We don’t know that,’ he said angrily.
Henley groaned. ‘Ramouter you need to—’
‘I’m fucking angry. Ezra is in a hospital bed because of Pellacia.’
‘That’s not fair, Ramouter. You can’t blame—’
‘Of course I can. He had an obligation to protect him, but he exposed him to people like Kaiden Longley and whoever this fucking Don is. Pellacia should have done better to protect Ezra. He knew that Ezra was in danger, and he did nothing.’
‘Are you done?’
Ramouter leaned forward and took a sip of coffee. ‘Aye.’
‘Now I’m talking to you as your boss,’ said Henley.
‘Pull yourself together. I’ve told you more than once that this team doesn’t work if we’re not supporting each other.
I need you to focus and not let Ezra’s hard work be in vain.
Don’t let your anger with Pellacia get in the way.
You’re better than that. He’s hurting and you’re hurting. ’
‘Are you telling me to apologise?’ Ramouter asked.
Henley stood up. ‘No. You’ll know when it’s the right time to do that.’
‘Is that it?’
‘We’ve got a case to deal with and I need a partner who’s got his head screwed on. So, are we good?’
‘Aye, boss,’ said Ramouter. ‘We’re good.’