Somebody's Daughter

by Carol Wyer

  ‘Yeah. It was enjoyable but tough going. I was ready for a change, less hanging about streets and dealing with the underworld, and yet here I am again, lurking about in the dark, hoping to talk to a drug dealer. It’s like I never left.’

  He gave a small laugh.

  She continued, ‘I seem to have spent most of my police career watching and waiting. Hours and hours and hours.’

  ‘Yeah, people think we’re always racing about with blue lights flashing on the tail of criminals, when most of the time we’re desk-bound or on some dull surveillance work.’

  ‘But you love it, right? I can tell you love it.’

  ‘Guess I do.’ There was another silence. The kebab shop door opened and two men emerged. One stopped to open a cardboard box and bite into a burger, lettuce and tomato falling from his lips back into the open box. Murray’s stomach groaned loudly.

  ‘For goodness’ sake! Have you eaten today?’

  ‘Not much. Wifey’s worried I eat too much crap and wants me to change my habits so I had a healthy-option sandwich.’

  ‘Wifey doesn’t have to sit in the same car as you and listen to the tummy protests. Remind me to bring you a grease-laden takeaway if we do this again.’ She shoved the sweet packet in his direction and he took another. The men had walked off and the street was once again silent.

  Murray watched the shop owner sit on a stool and stare at a television on the wall. ‘Is this guy reliable?’

  ‘The one who told me BJ would be here or BJ himself?’

  ‘Both.’

  ‘Fairly reliable. Let’s put it this way: I wouldn’t be surprised if BJ changed his mind because he was involved in something else tonight. Wait a sec, I think we’re in luck. I’m sure it’s him.’

  A large man in a long trench coat and heavy boots was walking towards them, his cigarette end glowing red in the darkness.

  ‘Definitely him. Come on.’ Celeste opened the car door, jumped out lightly and wandered towards the man. Murray was instantly beside her.

  BJ removed his cigarette and eyeballed Murray. ‘See you brought muscle, Celeste. Hope you aren’t trying to pin anything on me. I’m being a good citizen here, trying to help you out.’

  Celeste spoke quietly. ‘We’re only here for information, BJ. Nothing else. Got a couple of questions for you. The first concerns this man, Bradley Chester. He claims you sold him drugs Saturday night.’

  BJ glanced at the picture. ‘What if I did?’

  ‘The guy’s in for questioning regarding a murder and has given you as his alibi.’

  BJ snorted. ‘Must be desperate to call me as an alibi.’

  ‘Did you sell him weed?’

  BJ nodded. ‘Yeah. I got word he needed some shit. He’d been asking about town for the name of a supplier. His usual one had let him down. Met him by the snooker rooms around 8 p.m. He was in a pretty glum mood by then.’

  ‘Did you meet him again today?’

  ‘Yeah. Millennium Retail Park.’

  ‘What time?’

  ‘Around lunchtime.’ The retail park in question was a good twenty minutes away by car. ‘Now I’ve done my good citizen bit, are we done?’

  ‘No, we need to know about a bloke calling himself Tommy Field. You know him?’

  ‘Not the name.’

  ‘Frizzy hair, an ear gauge in the left ear. He pimped out a couple of girls who got murdered last week.’

  He released a thin line of grey smoke. ‘Oh, okay. I know the bloke you mean. This conversation is between us, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes.’

  BJ gave Murray a stony look. ‘What do you say, tough guy?’

  Murray nodded. ‘It’s strictly off the record. We need to find this bloke. We’re not the slightest bit interested in your business.’

  The man studied Murray for several heartbeats before speaking. ‘He’s been feeding a big – and I mean big – bad habit and he has an outstanding payment to make.’

  ‘How much?’

  ‘Two thousand, nine hundred and eighty pounds, to be exact. If you come across the fucker, I want the money he promised he’d pay me this week.’

  Murray continued with, ‘When did you last see him?’

  ‘I gave him some gear on Saturday afternoon, on the understanding he’d cough up all the money and interest this week. Haven’t clapped eyes on the little shit since. See, you aren’t the only ones trying to find him.’

  Murray’s forehead creased. ‘How was he intending getting the money?’

  BJ dragged on his cigarette and arched his eyebrows as if he had no idea.

  Murray didn’t believe the charade. ‘Come on. You wouldn’t let him have any extra gear unless you were certain he’d pay you.’

  ‘One of his girls had some dirt on somebody worth a lot of money.’

  ‘He was blackmailing somebody?’

  ‘That’s what I figured.’

  ‘Who is this person he was blackmailing?’

  ‘He wouldn’t tell me any names.’

  ‘Did he give you no clues as to their identity?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘And you believed him without him telling you his plan?’ Murray said. ‘Come on, BJ, you’re too savvy to take his word. You’d have wanted to know exactly what he planned and make sure it wasn’t a cock-and-bull story. You wouldn’t have given him any more drugs unless you were confident he’d pay you back.’

  BJ held the cigarette between his thumb and forefinger and flicked it on the pavement. A group of men were headed towards the kebab shop and he lowered his head. ‘I don’t know exactly but he had information that was going to net him £50,000.’

  ‘A name, BJ. Give us a name.’

  ‘Hardy.’

  ‘Rachel or Eugene?’

  ‘I don’t know, but those Hardys are minted, man. I mean, they’re seriously rich and Tommy had something on them. Maybe they were willing to buy his silence.’

  Murray’s pulse beat a triumphant rhythm in his ear. ‘He must have told you what it was.’

  ‘Nope. He wouldn’t tell me anything. I considered smacking it out of him but I couldn’t be arsed. I was only interested in getting what he owed me.’

  Although this was useful information, Celeste wanted to check something else. ‘Was Tommy selling the gear on?’

  BJ shook his head. ‘Couldn’t say but he bought a load of shit for one person. Mind you, he was usually off his face.’

  ‘What about Amelia and Katie, his girls, did they ever buy from you?’

  ‘I didn’t know them at all. Never even seen them. I deal with punters who need whatever I can supply, and this Tommy was exactly that – a punter.’

  ‘What about Rachel Hardy. She ever buy from you?’

  BJ let out a loud guffaw. ‘You are winding me, aren’t you?’

  ‘She was getting it from somewhere.’

  ‘Not me. There are loads of places she could have got her hands on it.’

  ‘Tommy?’

  BJ shrugged. ‘If he was selling it on, then yeah.’

  ‘And you haven’t seen him around since Saturday?’

  ‘Nope and I’ve searched everywhere I can think of for him. He’s not been to any of the usual haunts. Maybe those Hardys hired somebody to take care of him, if you catch my drift.’

  Murray did. ‘Do you know if Tommy had any other girls working for him?’

  ‘I’m surprised he had any at all. He’s nearly always off his tits or scraping along on a low because he needs a fix. If I’d been those girls, I’d have dumped him long ago.’

  ‘Would you say he’s violent?’ asked Celeste.

  ‘You really asking me that? You’ve seen it, Celeste. People desperate for a fix will do anything to get it, including resorting to violence.’

  The group of men were beginning to shout and argue among each other outside the kebab shop.

  BJ looked across. ‘Don’t expect me to talk to you again. We’re done, clear?’

  ‘Clear.’

  He sloped away
, mingling with the shadows. The men ceased bickering and entered the brightly lit shop. Murray climbed back into the Jeep and waited until Celeste was settled in position before saying, ‘Do you think Eugene arranged to meet Tommy, to pay him off?’

  ‘It’s as good a theory as any, boss. Might have all gone pear-shaped, and after taking the money, he killed Eugene.’

  ‘We’ll need to check Eugene’s accounts and see if any large sums have been withdrawn recently.’

  ‘I wouldn’t mind a few hours’ kip first. I’ve got an early start. Need to sort out the kids for school.’

  ‘Sure, I’ll drop you off.’

  ‘Thanks. What about you?’

  ‘I haven’t got to sort out any kids.’

  ‘Make the most of it then, but can I say, as a colleague, you really should get some rest. You look shagged out.’

  Murray gave a good-humoured laugh and pulled away. ‘You don’t mince your words, do you?’

  ‘I say what I think and it’s served me well in the past.’

  ‘Okay, seeing as you aren’t afraid to speak your mind, who do you think spoke to the journalist?’

  ‘Andy.’

  ‘Go on. Why Andy?’

  ‘I walked into the office and overheard him arranging a meeting with somebody on the phone. When he saw me, he abruptly ended the call.’

  ‘Did you ask him about it?’

  ‘Of course I did. I asked him immediately after Lucy ranted at us about the leak, and he told me to go and fuck myself. He’s such a charmer. I was going to say something to Lucy then I figured I might be wrong. Andy might have been making a call to a girlfriend or anyone. Can’t jump to conclusions, can we?’

  Murray agreed. It didn’t take long before they were outside Celeste’s home, an ordinary terraced house with a rendered exterior and a small front garden filled by a large children’s trampoline.

  ‘Thanks, Murray. Oh, and promise me one thing…’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘You’ll eat properly tomorrow. I can’t bear the thought of another day listening to musical guts.’ She shut the door and gave a wave.

  Murray drove off. He might stop at an all-night store and get a cheese pasty or two. He still had work to do.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Tuesday, 5 November – Early Morning

  Natalie lay in bed, listening to the sound of Mike’s gentle breathing. Unlike David, Mike was a quiet sleeper but she still found herself unable to drift off. The king-sized bed was comfortable and the mattress seemed to stick to the contours of her body, supporting her perfectly, but even so, her mind whirred and prevented her from shutting off.

  She ought to be focusing on the case but instead she found her thoughts wandering to Frances and her letter. Why had she really decided to come back into Natalie’s life? Was she ill and wanted to make amends? No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t shake off the spectre of Frances. The letter was in her bag and Natalie swung her legs out from under the duvet and sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for Mike to ask her what she was doing. He might be a quiet sleeper but he also slept as lightly as Natalie, and she didn’t want to wake him.

  When no sound came, she tiptoed to the landing, lit by silvery moonlight from a tiny skylight. She glided past Josh’s room and downstairs to the kitchen, where she switched on a light over the cooker and rooted through her bag for the letter. Frances was older. They both were. Would she still have an agenda or had she truly realised the error of her ways and wanted to make amends? She read the mobile number, lifted her own phone then changed her mind. What was she thinking? It was 2 a.m. Frances would be asleep. She could tap out a brief message instead. But to what end? Did she really want Frances to reappear and be part of her life? She searched deep. The truth was that she still didn’t trust her sister. She returned the letter to its envelope. She’d deal with it in daylight. The buzzing of her phone prevented her from leaving the room. Murray and Lucy had made a breakthrough, and suddenly, Natalie had no desire to go back to bed.

  Bev was asleep when her mobile bleeped. She reached for it instantly, an instinct honed over many years of being a journalist, one who never switched off her phone for fear of missing a story.

  ‘Bev Gardner.’

  The voice was obviously distorted, muffled by a cloth or other material. She couldn’t tell if it was male or female but a frisson of excitement jolted through her body, rousing her instantly from her slumber.

  ‘Who is this?’

  ‘You’re guilty.’

  ‘Guilty of what?’

  ‘You’re as guilty as the others.’

  ‘Who is this?’

  ‘You’re guilty but you can have one chance to redeem yourself.’

  ‘I haven’t any idea what you’re on about.’

  ‘Then you will die.’

  ‘You’re threatening me?’

  ‘I’m giving you a chance.’

  ‘If I knew what it is I’m supposed to be guilty of, I might entertain you, but at the moment, you sound like a prankster.’

  ‘Please yourself. I’m the person the police are looking for and you do know me.’

  ‘I do?’ Suddenly she was hunting for something to scribble on. This was a scoop! ‘How do I know you?’

  ‘I’ll let you work it out. Do you want a chance to live or not?’

  ‘Of course I do, but what am I supposed to have done?’

  ‘You’ll remember. Think. Think hard.’

  She was baffled and scared but both were overcome by a third emotion: curiosity. ‘What do you want me to do to save myself?’

  ‘Meet me.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I’ll tell you when I meet you.’

  ‘Place? Time?’

  ‘I’ll be in touch again soon.’ The line went dead.

  ‘Shit!’ She really should tell the police about the call and let them handle it, but the caller’s number had been withheld and was probably an untraceable pay-as-you-go; besides, this person had threatened to kill her for being guilty. Guilty of what? She couldn’t think of anything, unless this person was affronted by something she’d written. She had nothing in connection to the other victims, although she knew Eugene, having interviewed him a few times. The hungry journalist in her whispered she should wait for the mystery caller to ring again. She couldn’t get any further information from her informant in the crime unit, and the story she’d intended running on Eugene’s daughter now seemed tame in light of his death. She could still run a piece on poor policing but it wouldn’t win her any prizes, not when an exclusive with a murderer would. She slipped back between her sheets. It might well be worth the wait.

  Hollow-eyed Lucy paced the office floor. ‘I know we’ve now eliminated Bradley from our enquiries but we’re getting closer. When can we get Eugene’s financial details?’

  ‘Not until later this morning,’ said Murray. ‘We can’t do a great deal more for the moment. We now know Tommy was blackmailing Eugene or Rachel. Maybe it was to do with Dominic.’

  ‘We should talk to Dominic’s wife again.’

  Murray shook his head. ‘She knew nothing other than he was having an affair.’

  ‘I wonder which girl it was who passed on the information. My money’s on Katie given she walked past the rear of the store almost every day, and there was the run-in she had with Eugene. If only there’d been sound on the footage so we could hear what they were arguing about. Got it! A lip-reader. We need a lip-reader to interpret what Katie is saying.’

  ‘That’s what I call “thinking outside the box”.’

  Lucy managed a weak smile. ‘This case is doing my head in.’

  ‘It’s going well.’

  ‘Five bodies since Friday. It’s going tremendously well.’

  ‘You know what I mean.’

  ‘Listen, Murray, if it hadn’t been for you and Celeste, we’d still be flapping about in the dark. You’ve given us possibilities and leads and kept the investigation alive.’

  ‘
Is this your way of saying thank you?’

  Lucy placed her hands on her hips, a schoolmarm expression on her face. ‘You know damn well it is.’

  ‘Good. I think we should wind this up and grab some sleep or we won’t be able to think straight, and you need to rest more than I do.’

  ‘Yeah, I hear you. Come on, we’ll take a break. I want to head over to Katie’s parents in Buxton first thing.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I feel we’re missing something. Katie’s sister, Sophia, used to go out with Tommy before he ran off with Katie. Maybe she knows where he is. Natalie’s coming with me but I want you to keep the pressure on here, ask around on the streets.’

  ‘We’ve covered most of the patch, Lucy. Nobody has come forward yet.’

  ‘What about where Katie and Amelia used to work before they moved across? You combed that area yet?’

  ‘No.’

  Both eyebrows arched high on her forehead. ‘Then I guess you know what else to do tomorrow.’

  ‘And she’s back in the room.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I’ve missed our banter, Lucy.’ He collected his coat and keys.

  Lucy stared at him. ‘Have I changed that much?’

  ‘You’re changing… but there’s hope for you yet,’ he replied and earned a friendly punch on his upper arm.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Tuesday, 5 November – Morning

  Heavy skies were overhead as they drove alongside dark-grey stone walls, separating the sludgy, sloped fields from the main road, and the first drops of rain spilled from swollen clouds as they passed the forest-green settlement sign displaying the name Buxton in the Peak District.

  ‘Another lovely, bright day,’ said Lucy, switching on the wipers.

  ‘High ground. Weather’s always worse here,’ Natalie replied.

  ‘You been to Buxton before this case?’

  ‘When the kids were younger, we came here a lot during the school holidays. Josh went through a phase when he was heavily into outdoor pursuits and wanted us all to embrace the great outdoors, so we used to walk the Mam Tor to Castleton route together.’ A laser-focused memory of Josh and Leigh chasing each other across verdant fields punctured her vision, and Leigh’s high-pitched squeals once again filled her ears. She let them recede, taking with them the momentary pleasure they’d brought. Outside, the muddy-brown scenery provided stark contrast and a reminder the past was behind her.