Next Victim

by Helen H. Durrant

  The man walked towards him, hands balled into fists. “You look twitchy, Paul. Not thinking of doing anything stupid, are you? And where’s that woman got to?”

  “She’ll be back. You can trust her.”

  “Can I though? She doesn’t know it, but that woman is vital to my plans. You see she will send the police into a tailspin searching for the wrong people.” The man was almost on top of him. Greyson backed off. “Look, I’m not strong. I don’t do self-defence or anything like that. If I knew what you were on about and if I had the damned report, I’d give it to you. But I don’t.”

  “Sorry, Paul, I don’t have time to explain. But no need to stress about the report anymore. I know it doesn’t exist.” He pulled a face. “Oops, shouldn’t have said that. Now you’re a liability.”

  “I won’t say anything, if that’s what you’re worried about. You can trust me. Take the money and get out of here.”

  “Sorry, far too risky. I don’t want to do this, honestly. But I have no choice.”

  The man pulled a handgun from his overcoat pocket.

  “Don’t do this. Please, go now!” Greyson shouted. “I won’t say anything to the police. You can trust me.”

  The man smiled, a terrifying smile. “I learned a long time ago that you can’t trust anybody.”

  A shot rang out, and Greyson hit the ground.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Rachel’s heart was in her mouth. Uncle Jed? Jed was no uncle, not to Mia or anyone else. Nonetheless, it had better be him, the alternative was too horrendous to contemplate. She sat in her car outside the house and scrolled through the contacts on her mobile until she found him.

  “Jed!” she screamed. “Is she with you!”

  He took his time to reply — tosser!

  “Who, babe? Who’ve you lost?”

  Rachel was in no mood for games. He knew very well who she meant. “Mia! Did you take her? Simple question. Now give me an answer.”

  “Calm down. Both Mia and her mate are quite safe. I was about to drop them off at yours when you rang.”

  “And I was about to mobilise the troops, report her missing. You bloody idiot! Don’t you dare do anything like that again. What did you hope to gain?”

  “A little time with my daughter.”

  The noise of the debacle going on inside her house faded into the background. The only noise Rachel could hear now was the beat of her heart. He did know. She closed her eyes. How had that happened? How had he even realised?

  “I would never be so stupid. If that’s what you think, you’re deluded. She’s Alan’s, not yours.”

  “DNA doesn’t lie, as well you know. Mia is the product of that little interlude we had, fourteen years ago. Remember? That weekend on the Welsh coast. We stayed in that lovely hotel overlooking Cardigan Bay.”

  She remembered. It had been an idyllic weekend. The weather had been perfect and Jed had been at his most charming. Her defences were down. They’d spent most of their time making love.

  “You can’t have done a test. I haven’t given permission.”

  “You will. In the meantime, I have eyes in my head. She looks like me.”

  “In your fantasy! You’re grasping at straws. Where are you now?”

  “The bowling alley in Macclesfield. Do you know it?”

  “Yes. I’m on my way. Don’t move until I get there.”

  Rachel cast a backward glance at the mayhem going on at the cottage. Alan would have to deal with that one. She pulled out and headed towards the main road that would take her into Macclesfield.

  What the hell had happened? Mia knew the rules. If Rachel was working, on school nights it was her dad’s or Ella’s for homework until seven at the latest. Going out was reserved for weekends only. There were no exceptions, unless she was accompanied by a parent.

  Her mind was in turmoil. How had Jed got it into his head that Mia was his? He must have seen her recently, perhaps he’d seen them together. He was right on one score. She did look like him, worryingly so. It was most noticeable in her eyes. Jed had lovely eyes, dark and moody. Mia’s were the same.

  Rachel had suspected she was Jed’s for years. She’d spotted the likeness before the child had reached the age of three. There was no way she could live with the uncertainty. It was wrong, and she should have got Alan’s permission, but she’d had a DNA test done, Mia and Alan. The result had proved conclusively that Alan wasn’t Mia’s father. That left only Jed McAteer in the running.

  But Rachel had never told Jed, so how did he know? How long had they known each other? At least he’d passed himself off as her uncle and hadn’t told her the truth. At all costs, that must never happen.

  She wondered just how well they knew each other, Jed and Mia. What did Mia think of him? She’d probably think he was great. He was good-looking and could be utterly charming. He had that way of talking to you as if you were the most important person in the world. He had money too, and wouldn’t hesitate to spend it. Mia was young and impressionable. She’d be captivated. Jed McAteer was a world away from Alan King, her supposed father, who’d brought her up.

  Rachel pulled into the bowling-alley car park and spotted his black Merc straight away. He was in the driver’s seat and the two girls were sitting together in the back, chatting animatedly. She pulled up alongside and wound down her window.

  “Get in here, the pair of you,” she barked. “And you,” she said to Jed, “don’t you dare do anything like this again.”

  Jed appeared amused. “Calm down. There’s no need to lose it. The girls have had a great time. Me too.”

  Mia leaned forward and kissed his cheek. Rachel’s heart sank even further. Mia was only thirteen, enjoying herself and obviously impressed. Tell her the truth about this man, what a villain he was, it wouldn’t touch the sides. What was his game? Was his affection for real or was it merely a ploy to get to her?

  Rachel waited until both girls were in her car and then got out and bent down to his window. “There’ll be no more of this. You’ll leave her alone,” she hissed.

  “No. I’ll see her again, babe. She likes me. Get used to the idea. Tell the other bloke too. The one passing himself off as her dad. I want a relationship with my daughter. I have rights and you can’t stop me.”

  Other bloke! Jesus. Alan King was an innocent party. He was Mia’s father. He’d raised her. What was biology after all?

  Jed smiled. “I’ll phone you. And I’ve told those two that I’ll take them to the cinema this weekend.”

  “Why tell Mia and her friend that you’re her uncle?”

  “You’d rather I told her the truth?” He shook his head. “I’m not stupid. I’m leaving that one to you. Mia is young, I’m new in her life.” He smiled, and those eyes of his twinkled. “We don’t want folk gossiping, do we? You want them to see me with your daughter and think I’m your latest lover? Eh? Better they think I’m an uncle. For now, anyway.”

  Rachel shook her head. “We’re leaving. If you contact her again, I’ll have you arrested.” It was all she could think of, sheer desperation, and Jed knew it. He simply grinned and waved at the girls.

  She and the girls set off for home. Rachel drove in silence.

  “I like him,” Mia said. “He’s fun.”

  “You don’t know him. That man is trouble. As for seeing him, that’s another matter. You do nothing until I say so, agreed?”

  “He’s taking us to see that new film next weekend.”

  “He isn’t, Mia. I mean it. You really want to go, I’ll see what I can do. But you leave Jed McAteer out of it.”

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Thursday

  After the day she’d had, and worried by thoughts of what to do about Jed, Rachel tossed and turned for most of the night. She finally gave up early the next morning and was just making coffee when her mobile sounded.

  “We’ve got another body,” Elwyn said.

  “Please tell me it’s not like the last one.” The horrific image of Oliv
er’s body spread out on the canal bank came into her head.

  “No. Gunshot wound. It’s Paul Greyson, shot through the chest. Sometime last night, Butterfield reckons. This one really does look like an execution.”

  So they were back on that one. “Where?”

  “Just outside his yard. And his place has been done over. Whoever is responsible was looking for something. But we do have a witness, his secretary, Mrs Andrews. We had her at the station, but she was in shock. Wasn’t making any sense, so we took her home. We’ll talk to her later.”

  “Did she witness the killing?”

  “No. She was inside the building, locked in all night. She’s in a right state.”

  It was approaching seven, and the traffic would be building. “I’ll be there ASAP. But you know how it is.”

  Rachel showered and dressed. In the kitchen, Megan was sitting at the table, groaning.

  “Serves you right. Drinking’s no good for you.”

  “Save the lecture, Mum. It’s only a hangover. I’ll live. Honestly, no one’s allowed to have any fun around here. Poor Mia. Dragged home in front of her friend. It was embarrassing. She’s thirteen, you know. She’s not stupid.”

  “Don’t start, Megan. You know nothing about it.”

  “I know you can’t lay down the law to us. We’re not kids. Dad was keeping an eye. He was quite happy for my friends to come round.”

  “What about the booze and the mess? And did he know about Mia?”

  “She was at Ella’s. Nothing to do with me, that one.”

  “You are sisters, you look out for each other. You know how she gets.”

  “Who is that bloke anyway? Mia said he’s our uncle, but you’ve never mentioned him.”

  “Not now, I’m late for work.”

  “Bloody work, that’s all you do. Can’t you put us first for once?”

  Rachel had heard enough. “Button it, Megan. I’m in no mood. Clean up the kitchen before you leave, and give Mia her breakfast.”

  “The mess will have to wait and she’ll have to go to Dad’s. I’ve got an early start too. You’re not the only one with a life, you know.”

  Bloody kids! The older they got, the trickier it all became. Megan wouldn’t be fobbed off for much longer. Jed was a problem she couldn’t explain, but she’d have to find a way.

  It took nearly an hour for Rachel to reach Greyson’s. A small tent covered the body.

  “Looks like a single bullet,” Butterfield said. “Close range. Straight into the heart. Death would have been instant.” He straightened up and pointed to the tarmac. “That is puzzling. He would not have lived long enough.”

  The word ‘Mac’ was written in blood on the concrete.

  “His killer?” Jonny asked. “Anyone know who ‘Mac’ is?”

  What could she say? Rachel knew very well what the word meant. It was the nickname Jed’s cronies used for him. “We don’t know who wrote it. Most likely the killer trying to point the finger elsewhere.” Rachel turned to Butterfield.

  “What does ‘Mac’ mean?” Jonny queried again.

  Rachel explained briefly. She wasn’t comfortable discussing Jed. At least he couldn’t have done it. At the time when Greyson was murdered, he was bowling with the girls in Macclesfield. She daren’t tell the others this. But Jed had friends, Beatty in particular, and he was a killer.

  The huge metal gates were swinging back and forth in the wind and banging. “They must have used the keys. The lock isn’t broken.”

  “Took them off him probably. According to the secretary, he was locking up when the killer pounced,” Elwyn said.

  “Was it a robbery? Has Mrs Andrews said anything?”

  “Not a lot. She said a man was waiting for them in the dark. He approached and wanted some documents off Greyson.”

  “Not robbery then.” Rachel frowned. “Does she know what documents the killer was referring to?”

  “No. That was about it. But she does have more to say, she just needs some time.”

  “Documents? Could they be to do with that land out there?” She nodded at the open stretch in front of them. “Near to where Oliver Frodsham was found. What d’you think?”

  “Connected?” Elwyn said.

  “Do we know if anything was taken?” Rachel asked.

  “Safe is open. Mrs Andrews, that’s the secretary, reckons there’s usually about two grand in it.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Not that she’s aware of. But she’ll have a look through the paperwork later and let us know.”

  Forensics were busy at work. Jason Fox spotted her and waved. “We’ve got plenty of prints!” he shouted across. “Should have some names for you later today.”

  Rachel sighed. Frodsham, Greyson, the problem of Alice Brough’s missing twin and mother . . . they had a full plate.

  “Let’s go to the station and get some breakfast,” she said. “After that, we’ll see if Mrs Andrews is ready to talk. We’re doing no good here.”

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  “You’re very quiet.” Elwyn said.

  “Can’t eat and talk.” Rachel pushed a crust of toast into her mouth. “At least, that’s what I’m always telling the girls.”

  “You’re not yourself.” He dabbed his mouth with a napkin and tossed it onto his empty plate. “I’ve known you long enough to spot the signs. Something’s up, and it’s doing your head in.”

  Rachel gave him a faint smile. “Tired, that’s all. When we’ve cracked this one, I’ll take some time off.”

  “At the rate we’re going, that could be a while.”

  “Do you ever get pissed off with the job, Elwyn?” Why the hell had she asked him that?

  “You mean, really pissed off?”

  Rachel shrugged, wishing she’d kept her mouth shut. “Just ignore me. I’m being a right mardy cow.” She had another go at smiling.

  “I wouldn’t ditch this job for the world,” said Elwyn. “I enjoy myself too much.” He gave a light laugh. “What brought that on? And don’t joke it away. You meant every word. So, come on, what’s it all about?”

  It was truth time, well as much as she dare tell him. “I feel at odds with the job right now. I can’t get anything right, even Harding is watching me. In fact, it’s so bad that I’m thinking of jacking it in.”

  Elwyn looked utterly shocked. Rachel didn’t wait for the inevitable lecture. She got to her feet, leaving him sitting at the table. What she’d said hadn’t been a total lie. It had been on her mind all night, and on the way in this morning. It was one way to solve her problems. Leave, and Jed would have no hold over her. He’d probably lose interest.

  Back in the incident room, the team were hard at it. “We’re waiting on forensics for the shooting, ma’am,” Jonny said.

  “I’m trying to find out who the third and fourth numbers on Frodsham’s mobile belong to,” Amy said. “One was Greyson, the other Alice, but there’s a third one that he called several times in the days leading up to his murder. The fourth, he rang at least once a day.” She looked at Rachel and pulled a face. “I have tried ringing it, ma’am, but there’s no answer.”

  “Good one, Amy. Keep at it. Jot it down for me, will you?” Rachel took the scrap of paper and put it in her jeans pocket. She’d check later whether it had anything to do with Jed.

  “Oliver Frodsham had an argument with Greyson, and now both of them are dead. According to the watchman, Croft, Oliver was hired to steal some documents. What if Oliver couldn’t get them, and the people who’d asked for them went there last night and did the job themselves?” Rachel said.

  “You’re talking about Liam Beatty?” Elwyn asked.

  “Yes.”

  “He was brought in yesterday and interviewed.” Elwyn went to his desk and found the transcript. “He denied knowing Croft, said he never went to his house. He also denied arranging for his people to visit Croft and threaten him.”

  “Does he have an alibi? Can he tell us what he’s been up to all
week?”

  “Collecting rents for his boss, McAteer. Who as you know, owns half this city,” Elwyn said. “The problem is, we don’t have anything specific. Croft was vague about the visits. It didn’t take long for Beatty’s brief to drive a horse and cart through our argument, and he walked.”

  That was more or less what Jed had said. “In other words, Beatty would have been free last night to sort out Greyson?”

  “Yes, but we’ll need evidence,” Elwyn said. “Something more than simply wanting to pin this on him.”

  “The two murders are connected. I want you,” she looked at the team, “to find that connection. The argument between Oliver and Greyson. The nuts and bolts from Greyson’s warehouse found at the scene. It adds up to more than just coincidence.”

  Rachel heard the phone ringing in her office.

  It was Jason Fox. “We found plenty of prints but none that match anyone of interest, I’m afraid.”

  “By that you mean Beatty and his cronies?”

  “Yes, Rachel. As you would expect, we found prints belonging to Greyson and the secretary. As for the rest, the odds are that they belong to the workforce. We’re still looking, so there might be others. Sorry not to be of much help.”

  “Thanks, Jason, but we should have known. The people we’re dealing with are too clever to leave prints behind. What about CCTV?”

  “Out of action. It doesn’t seem to have been tampered with. It was simply switched off.”

  Rachel put the phone down. Was Jed behind Greyson’s killing? Did he want that piece of land? She could theorise for days. No, there was a quicker way to find out. She would simply ask him.

  She took her mobile from her jacket pocket and noticed that she’d missed a text from Mia. Jed had rung and confirmed the cinema for the weekend. Rachel was furious. He had no right. She wanted to find him, have it out, but she couldn’t do that. Before the day was out, she could be arresting half his men.

  It was lunchtime. She rang Mia at school. “Don’t make arrangements for this weekend, I’ve got plans,” she said.

  “What about Uncle Jed? And what do I tell Ella? She’s looking forward to seeing the film.”