Complete Detective Stephen Greco Box Set

by Helen H. Durrant

  “This is the one. Tattered curtains, peeling paint on the door . . .” Greco knocked. The seconds ticked by. He banged harder.

  “He’s either not here or he’s hiding. What d’you think? Dare we go inside?” Speedy asked.

  “We’ve no warrant,” Greco reminded him.

  “One kick, that’s all it would take.” Speedy peered through the grime-streaked window, and pointed at something. “Does that shape look like a body to you, sir?”

  “I can’t see any shape.”

  “There, by that table. He could be injured.”

  Speedy was a risk-taker, but maybe he was right. Greco knew full well that there was no body. It was a ploy to justify breaking in. Greco wasn’t happy about it but he needed the case to break, and Mickey Dent was all they had.

  “Okay, get us inside.”

  Another filthy hovel littered with beer cans and cigarette ends. The flat was empty. Speedy searched the rooms.

  “Nice laptop here, sir. Do we take it?”

  Greco didn’t reply. They’d need a damn good reason to remove anything and they didn’t have a warrant. Strictly speaking they were in this flat illegally. He walked across to a chest of drawers. The top drawer contained bundles of old papers, the next a number of old CDs. But there was also something wrapped in a cloth. Greco took a pair of latex gloves from his pocket and carefully lifted it out. It was a gun, complete with silencer. Searching further he found the box of bullets that went with it. He held it out for Speedy to see.

  “Look what we’ve got here.”

  Greco had a closer look at the other drawers. At the back of the bottom one, he found a notebook. He held it up. “Adam Crompton’s! It has his name on the front.”

  “That makes Dent our knifeman. What’s the gun, a Glock?”

  “Yes,” Greco said, and put it back. Grace’s instinct was spot on. He should learn to trust her more. “We can’t take anything. First we need a warrant, and we need to get the Duggan out here too. This place must be gone over with a fine toothcomb.”

  Before they left, Greco rang the station. He wanted the flat taped off and watched. “I’ll make my way back. You wait for the uniforms. I don’t want anything in here touched until we’ve got that warrant.”

  On the windowsill, Greco saw a photo of Mickey Dent with his sister, Michelle. He took a quick snap with the camera on his mobile. One for the incident board.

  Chapter 22

  Grace was speaking to the team. “I don’t think it was just a matter of not understanding English. He was being deliberately evasive. The lad we saw was very young. He was unkempt, thin. At a pinch, he could have been on placement from school, but I seriously doubt it.”

  “Joel, ring round the local schools, see what you can find out.” Greco tapped the board. “The warrant to search Mickey Dent’s flat came through. We’ll know shortly if the gun Speedy and I found is the one we’re looking for. In the meantime, we need to find him.” He handed Grace the photo he’d printed out.

  “I think this is your weirdo.”

  “The clothes are different, but stick this ruffian in a suit, fix his hair, and bingo! What did I tell you? I knew he was a wrong ’un.”

  “Speedy, ring his sister, see if she can help. He might have contacted her. See if she knows what he’s been up to recently.” Greco was trying to piece this together. Crompton had been killed by the Knifeman, Tanner and Shaw had been shot. Did finding the notebook mean that Dent was responsible for the lot?

  “Who do we reckon Dent was working for?”

  “I’d say Shaw,” Grace replied. “I think he did the knifings for him, and then they fell out. Dent wanted to get even for something.”

  “It must have been something big,” Speedy added. “He killed the pair of them, Tanner and Shaw.”

  Greco was thinking hard. “If Dent killed Jamal Ali and the other lad that means Shaw was involved in bringing the illegals in.”

  “Jamal Ali and the other lad escaped. Shaw wanted them dealt with and hired Dent,” Grace added. “Perhaps Shaw didn’t pay him enough.”

  “Leah, your informant said that the Knifeman was new, an unknown.”

  She nodded. “He told me that Slicer had deliberately gone for someone unknown so that he wouldn’t be linked to him, and could be got rid of once it was over.”

  “Perhaps Dent got wind of that and decided to do Slicer and Tanner before they could get to him,” Speedy suggested.

  That made sense. Greco gave it a few moments’ thought. “The different weapons could indicate that he was trying to shift the blame elsewhere.”

  “And it worked,” Leah added. “Rumours of a rift between Costello and Shaw were doing the rounds. Tanner and Shaw’s murders were seen as Costello’s retribution. But my informant reckons Costello is in no state to rock the boat. He’s ill, and paying for a lot of private treatment.”

  “Hence Horton and Sadie,” noted Greco. “But we must not forget Todoran’s part in all this. He was in the club last night talking to Shaw. What did he want? Where is he now? The man is dangerous. He’s someone else we need to find urgently.”

  Grace looked at him. “We still don’t really know what this is all about.” Greco caught her eye. She was right.

  “We might be able to explain away Dent, and why he did what he did, but why were the lads being brought here in the first place?”

  “Modern slavery. That factory we went to is a prime example,” Joel suggested. “I bet there are dozens of them around Manchester, all over the country in fact. It’s a very lucrative trade.”

  Grace nodded. “So where does the Rashid Clinic fit in?”

  That had been puzzling Greco too. “Horton is reputed to have a gambling problem. Shaw may have persuaded him to treat the lads when they became ill.”

  Grace nodded. “It’s a theory. Tony Rouse found out and threatened to expose the clinic. Then got Slicer on his back for his trouble.”

  “Sir!” A uniformed officer from downstairs was at the door. “A group of workmen have found a body at the back of the Lansdowne. The old mill on Cotton Street.”

  The team looked at one another. Rouse or Dent?

  Greco nodded at Speedy. “We’ll go and take a look.”

  * * *

  The old red-brick mill sat desolate and crumbling in the rain. What was left of the windows were rattling in the wind. The door was hanging off its hinges. A huge sign on the rusting gates proclaimed the building to be unsafe. Various pieces of heavy digging equipment were in evidence. It looked like the place was about to be razed to the ground.

  The team from the Duggan was already there. The body had been found an hour ago and they’d got straight on it.

  “He’s young, shot through the head. Nasty.” Bob Bowers shuddered. “Get these on and I’ll show you.” He handed the detectives white paper coveralls and gloves.

  They entered the dirty, abandoned mill. The scene was gruesome. The young man was lying on his back, tied to a wooden pallet. The concrete floor below his head was covered in blood.

  Bob Bowers lifted one of the victim’s hands. “Torture. One hand completely crushed, plus a finger on the other one.”

  “Not done after death in an attempt to destroy prints?” asked Greco.

  “No, the injuries to both hands were sustained prior to death — blood and bruising, see? I’d say your killer wanted answers. But this is most certainly what killed him.” He pointed to the vicious-looking wound in Mickey Dent’s temple. “I’ll do the PM later today. You can attend if you want but I’ll have the results on the system as quick as I can.”

  The crime scene investigators were everywhere, scouring every inch of the floor and examining what equipment had been left in the place.

  One of them called out from near the doorway. “There is a small amount of blood on the floor over here!”

  “Too far from where he was shot. Could be the killer’s,” Speedy said hopefully. “God knows we could do with a break.”

  “Or it could b
e that the lad was making a run for it and the killer stopped him,” said the investigator.

  Greco hoped that it was Speedy who was right. “I realise it’s not the best of jobs, but would you tell his sister? You know her. She will need a friendly face. Don’t tell her the details, but ask if she can help. Tell us where he went, who his friends were, you know the stuff.”

  Speedy nodded. “Who did this, sir? Slicer’s dead, the local villains are still in turmoil. So who are we looking at?”

  “Costello — possibly?” But Greco was doubtful about this. “We must also consider Todoran’s part in it. He was also in the club last night. Shaw might have decided Dent’s usefulness was at an end, and decided to set Todoran on him.”

  Greco shouted to one of the forensic team, “Any sign of a mobile?” The man shook his head.

  “What are the chances of finding him?” asked Speedy. “We still haven’t located Tony Rouse. Although things have moved on since he disappeared.”

  “We still need to find him. He knows what this is about. You go and see Michelle. I’ll go back to the station and get Grace, and then we’ll go and have a talk with Jean Smethurst about Rouse.”

  Greco left Speedy to it. He’d more than likely get one of the uniforms to give him a lift. But a walk would do his sergeant no harm, and Michelle’s workplace wasn’t far away.

  The brutality of Dent’s killing shocked Greco. Whoever had done that was an animal. But despite his reputation, he didn’t think it was Costello. Greco had read about that villain’s methods. Costello didn’t leave his victims lying around for the police to find. He would have got the information he wanted and then the body would have been disposed of, never to see the light of day again. Mickey Dent would have become just another missing person. There was no evidence that whoever had done this had been in any hurry. So either the killer wasn’t bothered, or he wasn’t particularly forensically aware. That left a big question mark. Apart from Costello or one of his mob, there was no one else in the frame.

  And what information had the killer wanted from Dent? What did the lad know that was so valuable?

  * * *

  “Take the next right at the lights.” Grace was reading the address Joel had given her. “She lives in Blackley, the better part too. Near the park.”

  “The gun and notebook found at Dent’s flat have gone to the Duggan. Message Roxy and tell her we need to know as soon as possible if it’s the one that killed Tanner and Shaw,” Greco said.

  Grace grinned. “You were taking a risk, breaking into that flat. Not your usual style. Good to know that even you can break the rules sometimes.”

  “Speedy’s idea. He might fly by the seat of his pants, but there are times when his style of policing is useful.”

  “You don’t look very happy.”

  “You wouldn’t either if you’d seen that body. The poor lad suffered. One of his hands was completely smashed. The brute must have used something hard and made of metal.”

  “A fight between killers. Remember, Dent knifed those young lads.”

  “I still don’t like it. Even he didn’t deserve that.”

  Grace changed the subject. “Are we going to talk about what happened in Brighton? We’ve only been back a day or so now, and it’s as if you’ve wiped the entire episode from your memory.”

  He hadn’t, but he was trying very hard to do just that. The problem was, he liked Grace. If his personal circumstances were different he would be up for a relationship. But he still had Suzy constantly in his head. It wasn’t something he could fix quickly. “What is there to talk about?”

  “Us for a start. We slept together. You might say you’re not interested but that’s not true, is it?”

  “This is neither the time nor the place. And I don’t think you should think in terms of there being an ‘us.’”

  “It never is the right time with you.”

  That could be true. In truth, he was terrified of having a relationship with anyone. He could not go through that experience again, losing someone, like he’d lost Suzy.

  “Leave it be, Grace.”

  “I was going to invite you and Matilda round for dinner one night. The girls would love it, and we could talk.”

  “I’m not ready. You’re a lovely young woman, but I’m just not ready.”

  “That’s not true, Stephen. No one had your arm up your back. You slept with me because you wanted to.”

  “Can we drop this, please?”

  He heard her impatient sigh. But what could he do? He’d made a huge mistake in Brighton. Why couldn’t Grace simply accept that?

  “We’re here, number forty. You can park down there.” She pointed to a spot a few yards away.

  They walked to the front door in silence. Greco knew that Grace was annoyed with him. He didn’t know how to handle this. He’d never been any good where relationships with women were concerned. She thought him cold, berated him for his lack of feeling, but that wasn’t what he was like at all. The simple truth was that he was scared stiff of loving anyone again. Police work was a dangerous business.

  “It won’t go away, Stephen,” Grace said, as they reached the front door. “I won’t let it.”

  * * *

  Jean Smethurst looked them up and down. “I’ve been expecting you. You are police, I take it?”

  Grace and Greco showed her their badges, and Greco got straight to the point. “Have you seen Tony Rouse in the past week?”

  “You’d better come in.” She led the way into the sitting room.

  The house was neat and tidy, spotless in fact, and Greco had no qualms about sitting down. This was very different from the others they’d been to during the course of this case.

  “I told Tony that I wouldn’t lie. I don’t see the point. You will get to the truth sooner or later and anyway, he has done nothing wrong.”

  “Has he spoken to you about his antics over the past few days? We’ve been to his apartment in Spinningfields—”

  “Then you will have seen what he did,” she interrupted. “The gunshot in the bathroom. The blood came from a joint of pork I defrosted. Stupid fool! I told him so at the time. The gun, incidentally, is registered to him. He needed time to disappear. He reckoned it would buy him that. The people after him wanted blood.”

  “Do you know who these people are?” Greco asked her.

  “No. Tony didn’t talk to me about his work, even though I’d worked with him at the paper. So I do understand the pitfalls.”

  “He came here to lie low?” Grace asked.

  “Yes. Very few people know about us. We used to go out with Adam and his wife, Molly. They knew, but no one from the paper.”

  “Where is he now?” asked Greco.

  “I don’t know. If I did, believe me, I’d tell you. I want Tony safe as much as you do.”

  Everything about her — the body language, the way she spoke — told them that Jean Smethurst was telling the truth. Both detectives knew it, but they still had to push.

  And so Greco pushed. “Are you sure? Because if you do, and you don’t tell us, that is obstruction. It carries its own penalties.”

  “I know that, I’m not stupid! Tony was here up until last night, and then he left. He’d had his mobile turned off for days. He was paranoid that if he left it on, you’d track him. Last night he turned it on and there was a message. He didn’t say who it was from,” she added before they had a chance to ask her. “He simply gathered his things and left. I’ve heard nothing since.”

  “Is his mobile on now?”

  “No. I have tried ringing him.”

  “Do you have any idea where he might be, or who that message was from?” asked Greco.

  “No, but I’m sure you can find out.”

  She was right. The moment they were back in the car, Greco would get onto the station and ask Joel Hough to do just that.

  “He has his apartment, and sometimes he stays in that hovel his mother rents. But I doubt he’d go there. Too many people afte
r his blood on that estate.”

  “Has he said anything about what he is investigating?” asked Grace. “We know some of it, but there’s a big part we know nothing about. People have been killed, Adam Crompton for one.”

  “I saw that on the local news. I wanted to ring his wife but Tony said not to. He wouldn’t tell me anything. Said it was safer not to know. But whatever it was, it turned his stomach.”

  “Has he ever mentioned the Rashid Clinic to you?” Grace asked her.

  “That place! Yes, he’s talked about it. Tony didn’t say a lot, just that the place should be closed down.”

  “And he didn’t say why?”

  She shook her head.

  “He might come back,” Greco continued. “If he does you must contact us. I’m not exaggerating when I say that his life may depend on it.” He handed her his card.

  Chapter 23

  Day 7

  Unable to sleep, Greco had spent most of the night going over the case notes. He’d arrived at the station early, had a long telephone conversation with Roxy Atkins at the Duggan and then prepared a short report for each member of the team.

  “A knife was found on the body of Mickey Dent,” he began, handing out the sheets. “It’s being checked for DNA, and against the wounds on the dead boys.”

  “Looks highly likely that we’ve found our knifeman. He killed the lads and shot Tanner and Shaw.”

  Greco shook his head. “It might not be that simple, Speedy. We found the gun that killed them in Dent’s flat, but we mustn’t jump to conclusions. He might have been keeping it for someone else.”

  “My informant said that the Glock had been sold to someone young.” Leah reminded them. “Dent fits that bill.”

  Greco looked at Leah. “He might have done the buying, but the gun may not have been for him. You were told about a rift between Shaw and Costello. That could mean that Dent was working for Costello. Dent was a very small cog, even in Shaw’s tiny piece of Costello’s patch. Would the big man trust the job of taking out his enemies to someone like him, an unknown, untried youngster?” He was thinking out loud.