Dragan Vlasich.
One afternoon in the summer of 1992, the senior physical education teacher of an east London secondary school was looking out of the staff-room window at the children passing through the front gates and dispersing down the street. Parked near the gates was an ice-cream van. It was very distinctive, with an enormous illuminated fibreglass ice-cream cone mounted on the roof and the name MR KREEMEE emblazoned on the side. Mr Kreemee had been parked there regularly for the past several afternoons, catching the departing kids, and the teacher had noticed that one child in particular, a pretty, fair-haired girl called Helen Singleton from class 2E, had lingered by the hatch in the side of the van, talking to Mr Kreemee as he served the queue of her schoolmates. On this particular afternoon the teacher watched the queue dwindle until only Helen was left. Then he saw the side hatch on the van close, the girl walk to the rear of the van, the rear door open and her step inside. The door closed abruptly, and shortly afterwards the light inside the fibreglass cone went out. He quickly rounded up a couple of other young male teachers from the staff room, and they ran down to the street.
When they yanked open the rear door of the van they found Mr Kreemee inside on his hands and knees in front of Helen Singleton, who was seated on a stool. He claimed afterwards that he was offering her different combinations of toppings on her ice-cream cone and had dropped some on the floor, but the teachers didn’t see it that way. They hauled Mr Kreemee out into the street and took him and the child back into the school, where Mr Kreemee, alias Dragan Vlasich, received some bruises and abrasions while waiting for the police to arrive. He was charged under section 20 of the Sexual Offences Act 1956, which states that it is an offence for a person acting without lawful authority or excuse to take an unmarried girl under the age of sixteen out of the possession of her parent or guardian against his or her will.
Vlasich claimed that it was all a terrible mistake, that when he was closing up to move to another location Helen had begged to see how the Kreemee ice-cream machine worked, that he had merely intended for her to look in through the back door, but that she had climbed in and the wind had blown the door shut behind her. Helen herself seemed confused, but didn’t contradict his story. The teachers had intervened before any act of indecency had occurred, if that was what had been in Vlasich’s mind. The Crown Prosecution Service hesitated, then abandoned the case. The charges were withdrawn for lack of evidence.
By the time Kathy finally managed to get Brock on his own to tell him about Verdi/Vlasich, twenty-four hours had elapsed since Harriet Rutter and Robbie Orr had first alerted her to him. Brock seemed startled by her information about his name change, as if it was something he might have half suspected and then dismissed. Then, as she told him about Vlasich’s career as Mr Kreemee, he looked troubled.
‘You could have let me know about this before, Kathy,’ he said.
‘I’m sorry. I tried to ring you last night on your mobile, but couldn’t get through. Then this morning I was caught up in the hunt for Testor. I only got to look at the Vlasich file just before the briefing started.’
He nodded, frowning deeply. ‘Yes, of course.’
‘You don’t like it,’ Kathy said.
‘It stinks, don’t you think?’
‘Yes. It gives me a bad feeling too.’
They were interrupted by Harry Jackson’s discreet cough. ‘Evening, folks. Phil said your team meeting was over and I might show my face. Ms Seager asked me to pass on all our congratulations on your result, and ask if there’s anything we can be doing.’
‘Thanks, Harry,’ Brock said, preoccupied. ‘We haven’t actually got a result as yet, but we’re hopeful. Did you know him?’
‘Testor? Not in any professional capacity. I’ve spoken to him a few times, down the gym and the pool. Soon as I saw your photograph I recognised him. Bit of a queer ’un, eh?’
‘You never had any inkling of trouble with him?’
‘Can’t say we did. But I hear he has a record, eh? Assault and criminal damage?’
‘That’s right. But he wasn’t one of your rehabilitation projects, like Speedy?’
‘No way. I hardly knew him.’
‘What kind of checks do you do on your tenants?’
‘I went through that with Gavin, chief. Credit checks and records of other leasings, that’s basically it. We wouldn’t run a criminal record check unless there was a bad smell coming from somewhere. And that has happened. Once or twice we got wind of a company with dodgy investors and decided to keep them out. But we certainly don’t do checks on tenants’ employees, if that’s what you mean. That’s down to them.’
‘But you probably have a blacklist, don’t you, Harry? I mean, apart from your daybooks and computer records, a careful ex-copper like you would likely have a blacklist of people who don’t feel right for some reason, wouldn’t you?’
Jackson smiled and tapped his nose. ‘I couldn’t admit that to you now, could I, chief? You’ve got to be careful these days, the way people are-litigious.’
Brock grunted, looking disappointed. ‘Yes, yes of course. I understand.’ He looked pointedly at his watch, then at Kathy, and said, ‘Well…’
‘But off the record,’ Jackson cut in, ‘between the two of us-sorry Kathy, three of us-if there was someone you were interested in, and if I knew him and had a feeling about him, well there’d be no harm in my passing on a view, informally like, would there now?’
‘I should hope not, Harry.’ Brock bent down to collect his papers from the table, as if no longer interested.
‘Was there someone, someone else?’ Jackson asked tentatively.
‘Well’-Brock straightened with a sigh-‘feelings can be misleading, of course, as we all know, Harry. Going round this place I’ve had a few doubts about some of the characters we’ve met. But of course, they’re in the business of selling, and people in that situation have to put on a bit of an act, don’t they?’
‘Someone in particular, chief?’ Harry asked again.
‘Well, take the chairman of the small traders group, what’s his name, the ice-cream man…’
‘Bruno? Bruno Verdi?’
‘Yes, that’s the one. He’d have to be a phoney, wouldn’t he?’
Jackson looked stunned. ‘Bruno? Well… I don’t know about that, chief. A bit larger than life, maybe. But you shock me there, mentioning him in the same breath as a nutter like Testor, you really do.’
‘So you’ve never had any reason to think of him as dodgy in any way?’
‘Dodgy? No, quite the opposite. Bruno is a pillar of the community hereabouts. Very strong on law and order and keeping our guard up. He keeps a sharp eye on what goes on, and encourages his fellow traders to do the same. I rely on people like Bruno.’
‘Live alone, does he?’
‘No, he’s married. Christ, if living alone was a crime I’d be up there on your suspect list.’
Brock smiled. ‘Me too. No, I just wondered if he had someone to vouch for his movements.’
‘Why? Has someone been putting the bad word on him?’
‘I’m just naturally suspicious, Harry. We’re checking again everyone whose code was used on the exit doors that evening of the sixth.’
‘Ah, right. With you now, chief. Well, if I was asked to say who springs to mind when the word “dodgy” was mentioned, I’d be more inclined to think of the operator of a certain games arcade down in the Bazaar.’
‘Winston Starkey,’ Brock said. ‘Yes, his code was used too. Anything specific, Harry?’
‘I take it you checked his record.’
‘Remarkably clean.’
‘Hmm. The kids who go there are always causing trouble. I reckon he encourages them.’
‘You keep a particular eye on Starkey, do you?’
‘As you say, chief, we all have our little blacklists.’
It took a further hour before Brock and Kathy were able to leave the unit and go down to the food court to see Verdi. He welcomed them as if they were old friends, and it seemed to Kathy that he had been expecting them. She assumed Alison Vlasich must have spoken to him.
When Brock said they wanted a private word, he showed them into a storeroom at the back of the shop. There was a chair at a small table heaped with invoices, and Verdi brought two more aluminium chairs in from the cafe and closed the connecting door. They sat down, refusing his offer of a little refreshment.
