Complete Detective Stephen Greco Box Set

by Helen H. Durrant

  “If whoever took the heroin has starting selling, they won’t stop. Get Joel down there when he returns. Tell him to hang about, speak to Clovelly.”

  “Oh, and we’ve had a visit from the drug squad. A DI called Chambers. Right piece of work. Reckons we’re stepping on toes. Ava Whitton has sneaked a day off work. She reckons a man stole her purse in a coffee shop in town. It’s a weird one. I’ve sent Joel to check it out.” Leah looked at him. She hadn’t noticed before, but Greco was clutching flowers. Was he visiting someone? “You alright, sir? Someone close not well? It’s not your daughter, is it?”

  “No, Leah.”

  He clammed up in that way he had. It showed in his expression — tight-lipped and with furrowed brow. She’d get no more out of him. Leah watched him walk a little further, then buzz to enter the maternity department. Now Leah was really curious. She wondered who he knew who was pregnant or had just given birth.

  * * *

  Speedy decided to visit Greysons Logistics himself, leaving Joel to visit the café in Manchester. He pulled up in the yard and looked around. The firm had a nice spot on the Quays with a view of the waterfront from the two-storey office block. Business must be good. Properties here weren’t cheap. A dozen or more lorries were parked up in a row outside. Speedy went into reception and asked for Martin Greyson. The young woman at the desk told him Greyson was out, and unlikely to be back today.

  With a smile, Speedy showed her his ID. “I’m police. I’m speaking to all the local haulage firms who travel to Eastern Europe. Mind if I wander around, talk to some of the drivers?”

  “They have their own café and staff room across the yard. One or two of them are in. Speak to whoever you like,” she said.

  So far, so good. Speedy made his way over to the café. The counter was manned by a young man of around twenty, who nodded. “Only sandwiches and drinks now.”

  “It’s okay, I’m not here to eat.”

  A stocky bloke sitting at a corner table looked up. He was the only customer.

  Speedy smiled at him. “Police. I’ve spoken to the office, and they say it’s okay to ask you a few questions.”

  “Better make it quick, I’m about to get some rest. We hit the road tomorrow.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Warsaw.”

  “Your cargo?”

  The man reached for a clipboard on the table and handed Speedy the manifest. “Fill your boots, mate.”

  “According to the paperwork, you are carrying stationery. Is that it?”

  “This trip, yeah, but we carry a range of stuff. We have customers in a variety of industries, and we go all over the place.”

  “Anything ever go wrong on these trips?”

  “You name it, it happens. Blowouts, engine failure, even robbery at gunpoint. We were threatened by terrorists not so long ago.”

  Speedy frowned. “Didn’t realise it was such a tricky job. If something does go wrong, say, with the truck for example, what do you do?”

  “Greyson has an arrangement with a number of garages along the routes we travel. They usually sort us out. Just as well. Despite being fairly new, some of the vehicles are prone to problems.”

  “Many people work the trucks?”

  “A dozen or more. He does a brisk trade, does Greyson. Knows his stuff.”

  “Do you ever have any bother at customs?” asked Speedy.

  “Not really. Mind you, last week they paid a visit here. Out of the blue. No warning. We had the buggers nosing around for days.”

  “Do you know why?”

  “No idea, mate. Probably just routine. You’ll have to speak to Greyson or Ms Whitton for that.”

  Speedy made a note to do that very thing.

  “Can I help?”

  Speedy turned around. Standing in the doorway was a smartly dressed young man in a dark suit.

  “Dominic Hill. I work for Ms Whitton,” the man said.

  “In that case, perhaps you know why Customs and Excise were here last week?”

  “A routine visit, they said. Checked a lot of paperwork. Went through the cargo on a couple of lorries. Basically, they made everyone nervous and got in the way.” He smiled. “But they have a job to do.”

  “Did you know they were coming?”

  “No. It was a spot check. We had no choice but to give them access to anything and everything.”

  “Did they find anything?”

  “Like what?” Dominic Hill asked. “The stuff we transport is all very innocent, I promise you.”

  “Okay, thanks for your input,” Speedy said.

  Chapter 18

  Superintendent McCabe collared Greco on his return to the station. “You’ve been stepping on toes, Stephen. Not your usual style.”

  After his conversation with Leah, Greco knew what McCabe was on about — the drug squad visit. “Can’t be helped, sir. We need to know a lot more about Ava Whitton. Sorting this case depends on it. Right now, I’d like to know what is behind this stolen purse — if that’s what did happen. We need a lot more information about Greysons too. That firm she works for is suspect. Their lorries are going through the port of Dover to Calais and back constantly. They have been searched, the business premises have been searched, but nothing has been found. Our colleagues in the drug squad need to stop harassing us, or share what they’ve got.”

  “I don’t know a lot more than you do. But your investigation has got the drug squad twitchy. Whether it’s Ava Whitton they’re after or the folk she works with, we’ll have to see. She is involved with some ruthless people, Stephen.”

  “The problem is, sir, we don’t know the first thing about these ‘ruthless’ people. However, she has agreed to a forensic search of her house.” Greco checked his watch. “In fact, it should be going ahead as we speak.”

  “That won’t please Chambers. His parting shot to DI Wells was to forget her.”

  “We both know that is not going to happen. Ava Whitton is in this up to her neck. The drug squad is not alone in knowing that she is key to the importation of heroin, and God knows what else.”

  “Tread carefully, Stephen. If you need any help with access to anything, let me know. I can’t promise, but I’ll do my best.”

  While they spoke, Greco spotted Speedy lurking further down the corridor.

  He followed Greco into the incident room. “I think I know why Ava Whitton took the heroin to her house, sir. It had to be a spur of the moment thing. They had Customs and Excise round at Greysons. They descended without warning. If the stuff was in one of the lorries, she would have had to move it urgently.”

  “You think she simply took it home? Taking a bit of a risk, wasn’t she? Plus, if she was just able to get her hands on it at the drop of a hat, why was it so difficult for customs at Dover to find?” Greco tapped a pencil on the desktop, thinking. “If the stuff was still in one of the lorries at Greysons, how is it moved on from there?”

  “I take your point, sir,” Speedy said. “But what is even more interesting is that Riley and Holt chose that very day to carry out the robbery. Not by chance, I think. Someone at Greysons has to have known those lads, and told them. But who?”

  “Ring and get a list of employees,” Greco told him. “They could have employed anyone. They were about to take on Craig Riley, remember.”

  “Do we know in what capacity?”

  “Well, he couldn’t drive a lorry. Too young. While you’re at it, perhaps you’d like to find out.”

  “What’s happened to Grace?” Speedy asked.

  “She’s gone home, not feeling very well,” Greco replied. He decided not to say anything just yet. He’d see how the next day or so went. If Grace lost the baby, there would be no need to say anything at all. If not, McCabe first and then the team.

  Joel returned from his visit into Manchester. “Whether the man stole her purse or not, Ava Whitton knows who he is,” he announced to the team. “According to the waiter, they were chatting for a while. He was waiting and
when she arrived, she went and sat with him.”

  “What is she up to?” asked Greco. “We need to speak to her again.”

  Joel went to his desk and checked his PC. “The photo of the man she met is through, sir.”

  Greco went over to take a look. “Do we know him?”

  “I do,” Speedy said, looking over Joel’s shoulder. “That’s Alex Barton, a local businessman. Or so he describes himself. He’s a property developer. Buys cheap at auction, does them up and then lets them out. Not that he spends much money. It’s all gloss. His properties are some of the shoddiest in the area, but he’s still got tenants all over Greater Manchester. Most of them unhappy. A bit of a wide boy when it comes to tenancy agreements is Barton. He keeps them short, a matter of months. And he’s quick to turf folk out if he can get a higher rent.”

  “Why would Ava Whitton meet him? She doesn’t rent that house in Handforth, does she?”

  Speedy laughed. “Rent off him? You’re joking. Your seedy backstreet terrace is more his line.”

  “Nevertheless, there has to be some connection,” Greco said. “We need to find it. Ava Whitton is key to solving this, and it is possible that Barton has some part in it too.” He looked at Joel. “Get some background on the man. Let’s see what he’s been up to recently. Check if he has any connection with Greysons.”

  “I’m going to get off,” Speedy said.

  Greco nodded. It was getting late. He should go home and tell Pat about Grace. After that, another visit to the hospital.

  * * *

  Pat Greco was upset at the news. “You should have rung me straight away, Stephen. I would have gone and seen her.”

  Greco pulled a face. “You have enough to do. Besides, you’ve got Matilda to pick up from school.”

  “We’ll have something to eat, then you go. If Grace is still in tomorrow, I’ll visit her then. But make sure she knows that you didn’t tell me. She’ll think no one cares!”

  “Grace will more than likely be home tomorrow. A bit of tummy-ache, that’s all it is.”

  “You are such a fool at times, Stephen. You really have no idea, have you? Grace is thrilled about this baby. If anything happens, if she should lose it, she will be devastated.”

  “Would it really be so bad?”

  “I don’t know how you can stand there and say that, Stephen Greco! That baby is yours too. Get your head straight, for goodness sake. If this is just a blip, then the infant will be a reality within a few months. Start taking responsibility.”

  That was him told! He was about to tell Pat how difficult this was going to make things at work when the phone rang. It was Joel Hough.

  “Sorry, sir, I wouldn’t have rung if I didn’t have to. We have a body. Found in a ginnel running along the back of Balfour Street, Gorton. According to Dr Bowers, she’s not been dead long.” There was a pause. “Dr Bowers says it looks a lot like the killing of the two lads, sir.”

  “Do we have an ID?”

  “I’m afraid it’s Dee Sampson.”

  Chapter 19

  Dee Sampson had been hit so hard that the back of her skull was caved in. She was lying face up on the flagstones in a passageway that ran behind Balfour Street. It had been raining, and her clothing was wet and bedraggled. Her distinctive white, spiked-up hair was bloody and flattened against her head.

  “It looks like a single blow. Delivered with enough force to kill her,” Dr Bowers confirmed. “As for the rest of it — similar to the lads. Fingers cut off, an attempt made to ram them down her throat. An unsuccessful go at setting her alight, failed due to all the rain. Despite using an accelerant, the downpour we’ve had this afternoon must have dowsed the flames. Lucky. It gives us something to work with. She still has all her clothing intact too.”

  “Perhaps he was disturbed,” Joel Hough said.

  Greco agreed. “It does look like the killer didn’t have a lot of time.” He turned to the two uniformed officers who were standing nearby. “Knock on a few doors. There are several windows overlooking the area. Someone might have seen something. Find out who owns these properties too.”

  “This isn’t where she was killed, Stephen,” said Bob Bowers. “There isn’t a lot of blood, but there is enough to leave drag marks from the curb to here.”

  “So why would our killer want to leave her in this particular spot?” Greco looked around him. It was another of those depressing, grey backstreets. All terraced houses with no gardens, and everyone fighting for a parking space. “Go with the uniforms,” he told Joel. “Make sure the three of you do a thorough job of speaking to the folk who live around here. Strange cars, anyone suspicious in the area, you know the stuff.”

  “I will have more for you once the PM is done,” said Bob Bowers. “Sometime tomorrow. I’ll let you know ASAP, Stephen.”

  About to join the others, Joel turned back to Greco. “Why her, d’you reckon, sir?”

  “She knew something, and spoke to the wrong person. Dee would have been a lot better off trusting us. She was only in the station this morning. Both her and Marsh were interviewed about the jewellery theft. We need to speak to him. I want a detailed breakdown of his whereabouts today.”

  “I’ll get on it when I get back, sir.”

  Greco looked at the young DC. “You speak to the residents here. I’ll find Marsh. The centre is still open. That’s our best bet.”

  Greco rang the station and made a request for the CCTV from outside their building and the immediate area to be made available. He wanted to map Dee’s movements from when she left them earlier. He would go to the centre first, then call at the Riley house and arrange a meeting with Callum.

  The community centre was busy. Inside, a couple of groups were still busy, and a number of youngsters were standing around chatting outside.

  Graham Clovelly sat at a table in the café, elbow deep in paperwork. “Schedule for the coming months. I’ve got a host of new classes to factor in. We’re popular. Folk are asking for different activities all the time.”

  Greco sat down beside him. He got straight to the point. “Max Marsh. Is he in?”

  “Yes, he’s in his room with a group. Do you want him?”

  “How long has he been here?”

  “He was proper put out by you lot today. Not been himself since. He came back from the station in a right state. He believes that you’re going to pin the lot on him, and he’s scared. Like me, he’s not moved out of the building all day. Kept his head down, and kept busy.”

  “Not even to get some lunch, or nip home?” Greco asked.

  “No, at lunchtime he helped me with a delivery, then we ate in here.”

  “Did Dee come back here?” Greco asked.

  “She hasn’t been here at all today, which is odd for her. Why the interest? What’s happened?”

  This was going to upset him. Dee was a big part of what went on here. “Dee has been murdered, Graham,” Greco told him. “We found her about an hour ago.”

  Graham looked at Greco, his eyes moist. “And you thought Marshy was responsible.” He shook his head. “I’ve told you. You’ve got the lad all wrong. Besides, he could never kill anyone. He’s fond of Dee. He enjoys what he does here. The centre is a stepping stone. He’s got plans and he isn’t about to balls it up.”

  “I will need a word with Marsh.”

  Graham got up and went to fetch him.

  Superficially it looked as if Marsh was their man. Probably an argument with Dee about what was said during the interviews that got out of hand. But if he had a cast-iron alibi, then who?

  “I left the nick and came straight here,” Marsh said without being asked. Graham had obviously told him what had happened. “I didn’t wait for Dee. She’d lied about that bloody necklace thing and I was angry with her.” He hung his head. “Wish I’d waited now. Perhaps she’d still be alive if I’d brought her back with me.”

  “Do you know who Dee’s friends were, apart from the ones here?”

  Marsh shook his head. �
��Not really. She mixed with some weird types. Just lately she’d taken up with some bloke. He wasn’t her type at all. Wore a suit to work for a start.”

  “Do you know his name?”

  “Dee said nowt about him. I did ask. It’s no secret that I liked her. But she always clammed up.”

  “Thank you.” Greco sighed. “I’ll send someone round to take your statement.”

  On his way back to the station, Greco called in at the Riley house. Mrs Riley answered the door. He could see from her face that she’d been weeping.

  “Why won’t you give him back?” was the first thing she said. “I want to bury him. He’s my son. It isn’t decent to keep his family waiting like this.”

  “It won’t be long now,” Greco assured her. “Is Callum in?”

  She left him standing at the door while she went off to get him. Greco had never seen Craig in the flesh, but he had seen plenty of photos. His mouth fell open. The young man behind her was the spitting image of his brother.

  “Are you up to talking to me yet?” Greco began. “I want to know a lot more about Craig’s life. Where he went, who he saw. Particularly in the few days before he was killed. Vinny and him were planning the robbery in Handforth. Did he let anything slip?”

  “He didn’t.” Greco saw the hate in the lad’s eyes. It was still too early. He would have to wait. Problem was, Greco wanted to wrap this up before more of the stuff hit the street.

  Callum leaned forward. “Look, copper. I don’t want my mother upset any more than she is already. She isn’t up to this yet. She might not want to hear it but Craig was a moron, end of. He didn’t trust me, so he didn’t tell me ’ owt, and I didn’t ask. With our Craig it was best to stay well out of it. He spent his time with Vinny, not us. The sooner we get him laid to rest, the better for her in there.”

  So much for being the gentle one. Callum could obviously give as good as he got.

  * * *

  Greco decided to go to the hospital next. It was nearly seven in the evening, visiting time.

  He genuinely didn’t know how he felt about what had happened to Grace. Earlier today he’d believed that if she lost the baby, it would set things right again. But of course, it wouldn’t. Things were not that simple. He was still wrestling with his emotions, and how he felt about Grace. With Suzy it had been simple. He’d been captivated from the first moment he set eyes on her. With Grace, she had made all the running. He knew he was being unfair. There was something between them. Had to be, they had a baby on the way. But if that was the case, why had he been so taken with Ava Whitton when he’d first set eyes on her? If he really loved Grace, he shouldn’t have reacted like that. Greco realised that he still had a lot of thinking to do before he made any decision.