Complete Detective Stephen Greco Box Set

by Helen H. Durrant

  Chapter 5

  “I know it’s late, but can we feedback on what we’ve got so far?” Greco said. He’d seen Grace eyeing the office clock and understood that she needed to get away. “All Grace and I got was a bit of a mismatch in the stories of the landlady of the Crown and Frankie Farr. We’ll check it out tomorrow. What about you, Speedy? What did you and Merrick glean from the residents of Arnold Street?”

  “Ernest Talbot, the neighbour, is a tricky one. He’s already spoken to the press and reckons he told them a lot of rubbish, but he could be lying. But he did alert Rahman, and he says he heard a scream.”

  “Is that it? No one see a car? A stranger? Anything odd? Did anyone even see Jessie on that street? Do we even know what she was doing there?”

  “She was going to see Ethel Ridley, my mother!” A woman spoke from the doorway. Her voice was angry.

  They all turned towards the door.

  “Mavis Weston.” Grace grimaced.

  The woman looked at each of them, finally settling on Greco. “Have you found him yet? That murdering bastard needs stringing up too. He needs to get a taste of what he dishes out.”

  The comment bothered Greco. She’d made a direct reference to how Jessie had been found. What exactly did she know and, more to the point, who had told her?

  “Mrs Weston, we are investigating, but its early days,” he said.

  “Not good enough. You need to up your game, copper. He’s a bad ’un. He needs catching and dealing with. If you don’t do it, I know some who will.”

  Her face was full of hate. Her eyes went from one team member to another.

  “We are putting every resource into this,” he said.

  “That man murdered my girl. He wasn’t kind. He didn’t just bash her over the head and have done with it,” she said.

  Her eyes were blazing. She was barely keeping it together. Someone had told her. The press?

  “Who have you been talking to, Mrs Weston?”

  “I have every right to know how my daughter died,” she said. “I know things because I keep my ears open. Shame you lot don’t do the same.”

  Her eyes were everywhere, all over the team — and the room. At last they found the incident board. She gave a strangled cry. “They said . . . but I didn’t believe it. What did that monster do to my girl?”

  Greco stood in her path to prevent her from going any closer. “Come with me,” he said. “We’ll go somewhere and talk. Craig, arrange some tea, would you?”

  He took her along the corridor to an empty office. It had a leather sofa against the wall. He gestured for her to sit down. “We have been trying to find you. We needed to get Jessie identified quickly so that the investigation can get off the ground.”

  “So that you can cut her to pieces, you mean. I know what goes on.” She took a breath and wiped the tears from her eyes. “You shouldn’t have asked Mark. He can’t hack it. He comes across as gobby, but he’s a sensitive lad.”

  Mavis Weston was weeping openly now, a hankie clutched to her face. Greco felt sorry for the woman. She’d just lost her daughter in dreadful circumstances. It was enough to make the toughest person crumble.

  “I want to see her,” she said finally.

  “That can be arranged. Let me have a word with the doctors first.”

  “The heartless sods have butchered her, haven’t they? Cut her to pieces and sewed her back together all wrong.”

  “It really isn’t like that,” he said. “But there are certain things that have to be done, evidence that has to be gathered . . . Are you up to answering some questions?”

  She looked at him. Every battle she’d ever fought was etched into her face. Mavis Weston was a tough woman. She was dressed in jeans and a shirt. They were nothing special, cheap market-bought clothing. Her hair was a patchwork of different colours, as if she couldn’t make up her mind which one she preferred. But the truth was there, in the inch or so of grey at the roots.

  “What d’you want to know, copper?”

  “When did you last see Jessie?”

  “Over a week ago. The Saturday before last. I’ve been to my sister’s in Barnsley. Me and Jessie, we spoke on the phone and she texted me, but not much, not like usual. We’d had words. I wanted her to stay at home and take care of Jonno but she didn’t want to. She was spending more and more time with that lad of hers, Frankie Farr. Jonno’s no good on his own. He can’t cope.”

  “You said she was going to your mother’s last night. Where does she live?”

  “She’s in the care home by the park. Arnold Street is a short cut, that’s why Jessie would go that way. God knows why she had to visit at that time of night though. You’ll have to ask at the home. If that bitch that runs the pub had let her go on time she might even be alive now. Treated our Jess like a bloody slave she did.”

  Another reference to Megan Hunter. She was beginning to look like a less than perfect employer.

  “Was there a problem with your mother?”

  “No idea. I haven’t spoken to the woman in nearly twenty years. If there was a problem, they wouldn’t ring me. Jessie was the emergency contact.”

  “My sergeant went round to your flat. Jonathan didn’t know where you were.”

  “He’s as daft as a brush. I rang him every day, but he forgets. He spends all night boozing and watching football, his brains addled.”

  Craig brought the tea in and handed them each a mug. Mavis eyed the young constable.

  “They keep getting younger.” She shook her head. “I hope you’ve got more clout behind this case than the likes of that pretty boy there.”

  “Constable Merrick is okay. He does a good job.”

  “He’s a bloody kid. I want this one caught, Inspector. So don’t piss about.”

  “He’s young, but he has experience and a good team to work with. We will do our best, Mrs Weston, I assure you.”

  “Make sure you do.”

  “Generally speaking, did you and Jessie get on?”

  “We had our moments. She could be a right cow. Jessie was a difficult child. She always went her own way and she never changed. When it came to it, she’d always choose her latest man over the family. I suppose I can’t blame her. I used to be the same. I dragged them kids up on my own. Got no help from their father, and I had to work long hours. The kids were left to their own devices and it didn’t do either of them any good.”

  “Does her father know?”

  “No idea. Probably not. I was never married to him. When he buggered off I changed my name by deed poll, so it was the same as the kids.’” She put the empty mug on the window sill.

  “What’s his name, Jessie’s dad?”

  “Eric Weston. Last I heard he was living Stockport way.”

  Greco jotted the name down.

  “You get the bastard that did for my girl and make it quick. I want him to pay. My Jessie wasn’t perfect but she didn’t deserve to die, not like that.” Mavis stood up.

  “I can have someone stay with you — a family liaison officer,” Greco said.

  “Police? Staying with me? You’re having a laugh. I don’t want any of you round my place frightening Mark. None of you. Got that? Ring me and I’ll come in if you’ve any information.”

  “Okay, we’ll stay in touch.”

  “She was so even-tempered it was scary,” Grace remarked, once she’d gone. “I didn’t hear any shouting at all.”

  “She’s hurting. However tough she is, Mavis is Jessie’s mother,” he said. “Where are the others?”

  “Speedy’s done one and Craig’s gone to get something to eat. He reckons he’ll put what they got today onto HOLMES before he leaves.”

  “What is it with Speedy at the moment? He’s obviously got something on his mind.”

  “He’s not been right since Grady Gibbs was killed. He’s got it in his head that people blame him. He doesn’t feel that he fits in anywhere anymore, not here and not with his old mates in the town either.”

  “
If Speedy doesn’t fit in, what about me?”

  Grace smiled reassuringly. “You’re doing okay, sir. The others are used to you now.”

  “Should I offer to help?”

  “He’s best left. He reckons he’s been through the mincer these last months. He’ll come round in his own good time.”

  * * *

  “You’re late again. Matilda is up in her room getting ready for bed.”

  “Couldn’t be helped, Suzy. Work stuff. We’ve got a killer to find and he’s not making things easy for us.” With a sigh, Greco flopped down into an armchair. “In fact, if forensics doesn’t come up with anything, we’re really going to struggle.”

  Suzy Greco shook her head. “Despite what you’ve said, crime is worse here. You seem to have tons more to do. You’re run ragged and it shows.” She brushed back the hair that had fallen onto his forehead. “How are that team of yours shaping up? Any better?”

  What to tell her? He wasn’t sure he knew himself. Grace was okay, but as for Speedy and Merrick . . .

  “Speedy’s going through some sort of crisis apparently. He’s told Grace he doesn’t fit in anymore.”

  “I thought that was your thing, not fitting in.” She chuckled. “So what’s wrong with him?”

  “He’s not happy. But I’d guessed that much already. He isn’t interested in anything that’s going on. Problem is — he’s my sergeant and I need him.”

  “What about Grace? You keep saying how good she is.”

  “She is. She’s outperforming him at the moment. But she’s still only a DC. Speedy has to shoulder more of the responsibility. He should be capable of much more. He was excellent once — before I came here.”

  “What are you going to do about it?”

  “I’ve got no idea. I spoke to Grace and she says it’ll pass and to wait it out. But it’s a situation I can do without at the moment. This case we’re working on is hard enough without Speedy going all weird on me.”

  “Try to be more of a people person, Stephen. It’d help if your team could come to you with their work problems.”

  A people person. In Greco’s opinion you either were or you weren’t. Suzy was. She got on with her colleagues at the college and with the students. She had a great personality. She smiled a lot and she was pretty. Suzy Greco had a lot going for her. But he wasn’t like that.

  “Matilda’s got a new friend. I’ve said she can have her round for tea one day this week. Think you’ll be able to join us?”

  “I’ll try. Is she asleep yet?”

  “I think she’s seeing to Mortimer.”

  “Who’s Mortimer? A new teddy?”

  “Not exactly. Matilda had a particularly good day at school, so she got to bring him home as a treat.”

  “I’ll go and help her.” Greco pushed his weary frame from the comfort of the chair and went upstairs to be with his daughter.

  “Tillyflop!” he called out. She rushed to greet him.

  “Come and see Mortimer!” She took his hand and dragged him excitedly into her room. “He’s a hamster.”

  Greco gave a shudder. A hamster. And in her bedroom too. “Shouldn’t he be downstairs?” That creature should be outside in the garage. He didn’t even want to think about the germs, the dirt . . .

  “No, he likes it with me. He’s playing in his wheel.”

  “Don’t put your fingers in there, will you? Those things bite.”

  “Mortimer doesn’t, he’s nice. He plays out in the classroom and he doesn’t run away.”

  “You mustn’t let him out in the house.” His daughter screwed up her face. “He’ll get lost,” he added quickly. “He doesn’t know his way around yet.”

  Matilda nodded.

  “Make sure you wash your hands too,” Greco said. “And stick his cage on the window sill over there.”

  “I want him next to me,” she said with a frown. “Mummy said I could. And she said you’d make a fuss.”

  He ruffled her blonde hair. “Okay, Tillyflop. I give up.”

  He walked across the landing to the bathroom and gave his hands a scrub. It might look cute to Matilda, but all he could see was a fluffy rat.

  “Don’t start, Stephen. She’s thrilled to bits,” Suzy said as he returned to the kitchen. “Matilda’s been waiting ages for her turn with Mortimer.”

  “Did I say anything?”

  “You didn’t have to.”

  “My cleaning lady is giving up,” he told her. “It got me thinking. I should sell the flat. Spend the money on this place, or even somewhere new for all of us. What do you think?”

  “If that’s what you want to do. But don’t feel that I’m forcing your hand,” she said, and kissed his cheek.

  “Perhaps a better idea would be to buy a house together, instead of paying rent,” he said.

  “It’s an idea.” She didn’t sound enthusiastic and it surprised him.

  “You’re obviously not keen. I can’t for the life of me see why not. I thought that was what we wanted — a new start, a new house, to cement everything together.”

  “It’s not bricks and mortar that keeps relationships going, Stephen.”

  What was he not seeing?

  “I’m not sure. Let’s just wait and see,” she said.

  “Wait for what? What are we doing, Suzy? Are we a couple or not?”

  The look on Suzy’s face was evasive.

  “Of course we’re a couple, like we wanted.” She was twirling her blonde hair through her fingers, like she did whenever she was nervous. “But it’s early days. Maybe we should give things a bit longer. Make sure we’re doing the right thing.”

  “It feels right to me. I don’t see any point in waiting.”

  “Don’t push it, Stephen. I like things the way they are.”

  “We’re no longer married. Don’t you want to put that right?”

  She shrugged. “Is it that important? We’re happy enough. Why spoil it?”

  “Marriage won’t spoil anything. And I’d like things to be right. If we’re staying together, then we should make it official,” he said.

  “What would that achieve? I don’t see that it makes any difference if we’re married or not. We tried that once and it didn’t work. This is far better if you ask me.”

  “In what way better? I don’t understand why you want to hold back. If we got remarried it would put our relationship on a more secure footing.”

  “So you’re insecure.” She stood facing him, her hands on her hips. “Stephen, leave it. Things are fine. We’re fine and, more to the point, Matilda is happy.”

  “Okay. If that’s what you want.”

  “Yes it is.” There was an edge to her voice now.

  But he couldn’t leave it. Her attitude to their relationship bothered him. “So what am I to you? Simply a bolthole you make for when your parents get heavy? I get the impression you’re not really settling in Oldston.”

  If things got tough, like they had in the past, Suzy might walk away again. And this bothered him.

  “I came here first — remember! You are living in the house I rent! So you’ve got it wrong. This is where I’ve made my home. Do I say anything about missing Norfolk?”

  “No, but you’re not happy, are you? Not really.”

  “I’ve got a good job. I’m making friends and Matilda is certainly settled. What more do you want?”

  “Matilda is a child. She’d settle anywhere as long as we were with her. You don’t seem to be committed to this relationship. I’m looking for more than just a live-in lover,” he said.

  “Live-in lover . . . I rather like it,” she said. “It makes me feel naughty. I quite like having a man in my bed who’s not my husband. It’ll give me a certain kudos at work. What about you?”

  “It unsettles me, that’s what it does.”

  “Then get over it. We’re fine. I don’t know what else to say to convince you.”

  “If we did get married, it wouldn’t have to be a big affair. Just you, me and a co
uple of witnesses.”

  “Not now, Stephen.”

  Irritation was creeping back into her voice. Greco shook his head. Something was going on, and he’d no idea what it was.

  * * *

  Screaming and swearing, she stumbled through the club doorway, fell into the gutter and threw up. The bouncer shook his head and went back inside.

  “Bastard!” she shouted after him. “My stuff’s in there.”

  Moments later the bouncer reappeared and tossed her bag and a pair of high heels onto the pavement.

  She was young. Probably too young to be clubbing. The man watching from the shadows put her at about seventeen. She was skinny with long wavy blonde hair that flowed, dishevelled now, down her back and over her face.

  “Having trouble, love? You look cold. That dress doesn’t cover much.”

  “Get lost, perv.” She tried to stand but lurched forward onto him.

  “Steady on. You’ve had a skinful by the looks of it. Where are your friends?”

  “Dumped ’em. Stupid lot.” She pulled a sulky face, brushed her hair back and picked up her bag. “Need a taxi.”

  “I am a taxi,” the man said. He pointed to a car parked a few feet away. “Where d’you want to go?”

  She made no reply and staggered round to the back of his car.

  “You haven’t got one of them plate things,” she said. “You could be anyone.”

  Parents’ words. She’d have been told many times never to do this.

  “My daughter’s about your age,” he said. “She’s at the sixth form now, doing A levels.”

  It seemed to reassure her. “I go there,” she said, and smiled.

  “My Annie broke her wrist or it’d be her I was waiting for,” he said. “She loves going to that place.” He nodded towards the club. “Cheap drinks and good music, so she tells me. Which way are you going?”

  “Towards the Link.”

  “My fare hasn’t turned up. At least let me get you away from this part of town. It’s not the place for a young girl to be alone at night. Anything could happen.”

  “I should ring my mum,” she said. She rummaged in her bag.

  “Tell her you’ve got a taxi. Tell her not to worry.”