When the Guilty Cry

by M J Lee

  ‘Right.’ She touched the ends of her fingers and then twisted. ‘It’s a promise now.’

  ‘Words aren’t good enough?’

  ‘Not any more.’

  He heard her pad across the room and up the stairs. He was left staring at the backpack on the screen.

  Emily would have to visit Afflecks tomorrow.

  THURSDAY

  Chapter 38

  They were all waiting for him when he arrived at the incident room in Stretford station the following morning.

  ‘Morning, Ridpath.’

  Chrissy smiled warmly. Emily grunted a greeting, while Oliver Davis handed him a coffee, bought from the drive-thru Costa at White City, before sitting down next to Dave Connor.

  ‘Sorry I’m late. The daughter…’ His voice trailed off and he shrugged his shoulders.

  ‘Trouble waking up in the morning?’ asked Chrissy.

  Ridpath nodded.

  ‘Use dynamite under the bed, that’s what I did. Worked every time.’

  ‘Sometimes I wonder whether you are joking, Chrissy.’

  ‘I’m not,’ she said with a straight face.

  Ridpath noticed there was more information on the boards now, not just a few pictures. ‘Let’s get started, shall we? You go first, Chrissy, give us some more dynamite. You were checking up on the staff at the children’s home. Find anything?’

  ‘I’ve only done the workers with direct contact to the children, not the ancillary staff yet.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘Four were found guilty of child molestation in 2013, after the Operation Pharaoh investigation. By that time, one had even been promoted to be the deputy head of Children’s Services for Manchester City Council…’

  ‘Unbelievable…’ muttered Emily.

  ‘I spoke to one of the coppers who worked the case. He said more were involved but they couldn’t prove it. Files were sent to CPS and they decided not to proceed. I’ll go through them, there should be a list of employees somewhere, it’ll save us applying for a court order from Manchester.’

  ‘Anything on HOLMES 2, Chrissy? You were checking for similar cases, and if any bodies had been found without hands.’

  ‘Nothing so far. I’ve sent a query through to the National Police Agency but I didn’t get any hits on HOLMES.’

  ‘So what happened to the bodies?’

  They all shook their heads.

  ‘Write it on the board, please, Oliver.’

  It always fell to the most junior officer, or the one with the neatest writing, to put the questions that needed answering on a whiteboard at the side of the incident room.

  ‘Great, Chrissy, keep pushing on HOLMES and find the list of employees, including ancillary workers. And you, Emily, how did you get on?’

  ‘Not great, I’m afraid. I did full background checks on the film crew and, with the exception of the usual speeding tickets and one DUI, they all seem kosher. Their statements add up and they were all together during the filming.’

  ‘Who decided to film at Daisy House?’

  Emily checked her notes. ‘It was a production decision five weeks ago. They film the series quickly.’

  ‘They’ve been talking to the press.’

  ‘Looking for free publicity, I think.’

  ‘Right, anything on the house to house?’

  ‘I went over it again. Oliver did a good job. One old biddy thinks she saw somebody wandering around a week ago, but couldn’t give a description or an age.’

  ‘Not very useful.’

  ‘No. As for the backpack itself, I rang the manufacturers in Leicester. The lady was extremely helpful. This particular model was produced in 2009 as a limited edition, only six hundred made. They were popular with skateboarders, selling out as soon as they went on release. Apparently, three were sent to Manchester.’

  ‘My daughter spotted something last night as I was looking at the backpack—’

  ‘The one who sleeps late?’ asked Chrissy.

  Ridpath nodded. ‘She said this backpack is only available at one place in Manchester. It’s called Bagsy in Afflecks.’

  ‘I know it. On the second floor, I used to get stuff there.’ Emily wrote a note in her book.

  ‘Great, can you check it out? See if they remember the backpack. Even better if they remember who they sold it to.’

  ‘Could be difficult after nearly twelve years.’

  ‘Have a go anyway, we might get lucky. Oliver, have you anything?’

  ‘I checked the hospitals, university anatomy departments and funeral directors in a forty-mile radius to see if any body parts had been stolen recently. Nothing. They were all a bit miffed with my questions, citing the laws regarding the protection of human tissue. Apparently, these were strengthened in 2004. Didn’t teach us that at college. They were all scared shitless I was accusing them of breaking the law.’ He laughed to himself. ‘I also checked police reports and there are none with embalmed body parts being stolen.’

  ‘Great, well done, Oliver. Your work rules out a prank or joke played by some students.’

  ‘Thank God,’ said Dave Connor.

  Ridpath ignored him and carried on. ‘Right, your turn, Dave. Yesterday, Hannah Palmer had a hit on the DNA of one of the hands. It came up as a Joseph Rowlands, aged fifty-two, of Moston. What did you find?’

  The detective walked over to a picture of a dour man with short, cropped hair and close-set eyes. ‘This is Joseph Rowlands. He came up on the DNA database because he was convicted of child molestation in 2013 and sentenced to two years in prison. He was placed on the Sexual Offenders Register and released in late 2014. I checked his old address yesterday and the one he gave to the register. Nobody had heard of him. There were no further arrests in Manchester.’

  ‘Nothing on the Police National Computer?’

  Dave shook his head. ‘Nothing. And the last address on the Sexual Offenders Register was after he was released. In 2015 he was living in Moston. I also checked with Walton Gaol where he did his time. Apparently he was badly assaulted in prison in early 2014. His hand was broken and he went for surgery at the Royal in Liverpool. The plate was removed in 2015.’

  ‘So we have confirmed the identity is Joseph Rowlands?’

  Oliver Davis was sticking a summary of the case notes under Rowlands’s picture.

  ‘We have,’ replied Dave Connor.

  ‘He vanished, until yesterday when we discovered his DNA. No reports of him missing?’

  ‘There was a report filed in 2018 that Chrissy dug up. It’s been emailed to you. I also checked the case files from his arrest in 2013.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘Guess what?’

  ‘I hate guessing games, Dave, just tell me what you found out.’

  ‘Joseph Rowlands was employed from 1995 until 2006 as head gardener at Daisy House Children’s Home.’

  Chapter 39

  ‘What?’ shouted Emily Parkinson.

  ‘Joseph Rowlands worked at Daisy House for eleven years.’

  ‘Is that our link?’ Ridpath marched over to the picture and tapped it. ‘We need to find out more about this man. I’m becoming increasingly convinced that finding the hands in a backpack at Daisy House was no coincidence. Dave, you stay on Rowlands. Discover what happened to him after he was released from prison.’

  ‘Will do.’

  ‘And, Chrissy, find out about all the people who worked at Daisy House, there’s a link there, I feel it in my water.’

  ‘What do you want me to do?’ asked Oliver.

  ‘You help Dave, he’s not as quick on his feet as he used to be.’

  The older detective smiled. ‘I’m built for comfort not speed these days. But I can still beat you in a race to the pub, Ridpath.’

  The door to the incident room opened and Inspector Holloway barged in. ‘Connor and Ridpath, see me in my office, now. I want a full update from both of you.’

  The door remained open as Holloway walked away down the corridor.

 
They all stared at each other.

  ‘His Master’s Voice,’ said Dave.

  ‘We have a nightmare amount of work and only a short time to get it done,’ said Ridpath. ‘Work quickly, but even better, work smartly. I guess he wants us to see him now, Dave.’

  ‘After you, Ridpath.’

  Slowly, they both followed the chief inspector down the long corridor to his office.

  ‘This feels like going to the headmaster when I was at school, worrying I was going to get the cane.’

  ‘They don’t use corporal punishment in schools any more, Dave.’

  ‘More’s the pity.’

  The chief inspector was waiting for them. ‘Sit down, you two.’ He pointed to the two seats in front of his desk. When Dave Connor and Ridpath had made themselves uncomfortable, he continued speaking. ‘Bring me up to date. The acting chief constable is up my arse looking for a result and he wants it quickly.’

  Ridpath was tempted to check under the table to see if the acting chief constable was there, but felt it wouldn’t have gone well with Holloway. Instead he glanced across at Dave Connor. Even though Ridpath was, to all intents and purposes, now running the investigation, he knew enough about GMP politics to understand that Dave had to take the lead on this. After all, it was his manor and his boss.

  The detective understood immediately. ‘We discovered the identity of one of the victims—’

  ‘One of the hands?’

  ‘Yes, sir, one of the victims,’ Connor repeated, making sure his boss understood they were talking about people here. ‘His name is… was,’ Connor corrected himself, ‘Joseph Rowlands, and he was reported missing in 2018. We’re actively looking at his record and checking out his last known address, relatives, friends and acquaintances.’

  ‘Record?’

  ‘He was a convicted sex offender, sir, served sixteen months of a two-year sentence in Walton.’

  ‘Shit, just what I need, a bloody paedo…’

  Dave Connor ignored him. ‘We also have a lead on the backpack the hands were found in. We should be able to get more by this afternoon.’

  ‘Nothing on the other two hands?’

  ‘One is a male and the other a female, but both had been embalmed, so the DNA may have been compromised. Hannah Palmer and the lab are trying their best to obtain usable DNA.’

  ‘What about fingerprints? You’ve got bloody hands, haven’t you?’

  ‘There wasn’t any blood on the hands, sir.’

  ‘Don’t take the piss, Dave. Any matches on IDENT 1?’

  ‘They’re still trying to get good samples, sir, so no matches on the fingerprint database so far.’

  ‘Push them to work harder, Dave.’

  ‘They are doing their best, sir.’

  A grunt greeted this statement. Holloway thought for a moment. ‘Is his lot helping?’

  It was as if Ridpath wasn’t there.

  ‘Most definitely, sir. DI Ridpath and his team have been indispensable.’

  Another grunt.

  ‘Listen, Dave, I want this wrapped up quickly and off our books. I see you’ve logged it as three different cases?’

  ‘Three different victims, sir, plus there may be more.’

  ‘More?’

  ‘We may not have found the others, sir. They may be kept in a different place. Plus we haven’t found the bodies yet. We don’t know what happened to them.’

  ‘Don’t tell me there could be more, Dave, it’s not what I want to hear.’

  ‘It’s a possibility… sir.’ Ridpath spoke for the first time.

  Holloway eyed him with disdain, before turning back to Connor. ‘Keep your investigation to what you’ve already found, Dave, don’t go hunting for more. Understand?’

  ‘Understood, sir, but—’

  ‘No buts, Dave, just clear these three… victims as quickly as you can, preferably before Monday. We have the divisional meetings next week and I want these off my books. I want to report a win to the acting chief constable and if it’s not possible, I want to move this investigation over to the Cold Case Unit. The hands are at least ten years old, correct?’

  ‘That’s probably not true, sir, Joseph Rowlands didn’t vanish until 2018.’

  Holloway stared at Ridpath. ‘Right, over three years old. Good enough for me.’

  He opened up a file on his desk covered in numbers. ‘Well, I won’t hold you back from your work.’

  Both Ridpath and Connor understood they had been dismissed. They stood up and walked towards the door.

  ‘Make sure you clear it by Monday, Dave,’ Holloway said without looking up from his file.

  Chapter 40

  ‘Rather you than me, Dave.’

  Ridpath was walking to his car accompanied by the rotund detective.

  ‘Yap. Yap. Yap. Sometimes I feel like one of those bloody Pekinese lap dogs. I stand there yapping and nobody is taking a blind bit of notice.’

  Opposite, Lancashire Cricket were playing a match of the Country Championship season to an empty ground, a situation no different from their usual levels of attendance.

  ‘Having Holloway as a boss. He seems like a real pain…’

  ‘At least I know where I stand with him.’

  ‘Up against a wall?’

  ‘Being pissed on from a great height.’

  They both laughed.

  ‘We’ve known some numpties in our time, Ridpath.’ Dave Connor went quiet for a moment. ‘I miss the old days with Charlie Whitworth, when the only job was to find the bad guys and get the evidence to put them away for a long, long time. Now, it’s become all so… political.’

  ‘I think it always was, Dave, remember the miners’ strike? It’s just more obvious these days, there’s no longer a pretence that we aren’t involved in politics. Our job hasn’t changed though; we still need to find out who did it and why, and put them behind bars. Let our bosses play their games, Dave.’

  Connor expelled more smoke. ‘What’s it like working for the coroner?’

  ‘A breath of fresh air. There’s only one focus; to represent the dead in the land of the living. Mrs Challinor never forgets what her job is.’

  ‘I wish it were true of our lot. But you heard him, Ridpath, we have to wrap this up quickly.’

  ‘We have two good leads to work on. I’ll call Emily and Chrissy to let them know we need to get together this evening rather than tomorrow morning.’ Luckily, Eve was going to be picked up by Mrs Dunwoody and he didn’t need to go to her school. ‘Let’s meet at five in the situation room. The others can join by Zoom if necessary.’

  Dave Connor thought for a moment. ‘I thought it over last night. I’ve decided I’ve had enough, Ridpath.’

  ‘I though you said you had two more years to go.’

  ‘I’ve done twenty-eight years now and it’s enough. Time to work on the garden the missus keeps nagging me to fix, and she’s always wanted a new conservatory. This case will be my last.’

  ‘Sorry to hear that, Dave, you’re one of the old school.’

  ‘The last of the dinosaurs, huh? Fred Flintstone going around with his big club?’

  ‘You know that’s not what I meant.’

  ‘I know, but that’s what it feels like. Being a dinosaur in a world I don’t really understand any more.’

  ‘Let’s go out with a bang not a whimper, Dave. Leave them asking for more.’

  For the first time, the detective smiled. ‘My thoughts exactly, Ridpath, it would be good to shove Holloway’s nose in it.’

  ‘You going to visit Rowlands’s old address?’

  ‘Yeah, time to see what I can dig up. Where are you going?’

  ‘Off to see an old mate of mine. An undertaker.’

  ‘Only you could be friends with an undertaker.’ Dave Connor scratched his nose, looking up at Ridpath. ‘Let’s show them what some real old-fashioned coppering can do, before they put us out to pasture. What do you say?’

  ‘Couldn’t agree more, Dave, but let’s still use
DNA, OK? Sometimes this modern stuff helps.’

  Chapter 41

  ‘Morning, Padraig, how’s tricks?’

  The undertaker was in his back room dusting the head of the mannequin lying in an open coffin. As Ridpath tapped him on the shoulder, he jumped into the air.

  ‘Jesus, Mr Ridpath, don’t go sneaking up on a man, not in a funeral parlour. You’ll be after sending me to an early grave. I didn’t hear you come in and now my heart’s beating faster than a horse at the Curragh.’

  Despite living and working in Manchester for the last twenty years, he still retained his Irish accent.

  ‘What can I do you for? I hope this isn’t a business visit? With the corona and all, I’ve been too busy to take a breath.’

  ‘No, I need to pick your brains, Padraig.’

  ‘Thank God, I thought you were here to pick my pocket. Now didn’t I have your bloody boss, the bald-headed fella—’

  ‘DCI Turnbull.’

  ‘Him as well. He was in here looking for donations to the Benevolent Fund last week. An ugly-looking man, hands that scraped the floor, if you know what I mean.’

  ‘How much money did you give him?’

  ‘Money? I never give those fellas money. Sure, I offered him the free use of a coffin when the need arose. He wasn’t a happy man when he left, but you have to have some craic with the eejits, don’t ye.’

  ‘Don’t cross him, Padraig.’

  ‘Ach, I’ve buried far better than him. Now, how can I help you?’

  ‘We’ve discovered some hands in a backpack. They were embalmed.’

  ‘I read about it in the papers and one of your young Johnnies rang me to ask if the hands were mine. As if they were. I wouldn’t last long in this profession if I didn’t look after my clients.’

  ‘The lab have given me the chemical composition of the embalming fluid.’

  ‘And you want me to tell you where it came from?’

  ‘You’re a sharp man, Padraig.’

  ‘I wasn’t born yesterday, Mr Ridpath. Let me check online for you.’ He walked across to the laptop on his desk. ‘What’s the chemical composition?’

  Ridpath read from his notes. ‘Twenty-two per cent formaldehyde, forty-three per cent methanol and eight per cent glutaraldehyde.’