Now he was completely lost. “You can’t think Croft’s part of this?” he said.
“Not knowingly, but he is a vital part of the solution.”
“What are all those photos about? What are you trying to prove?”
She had no answer for him. What she was ‘trying to prove,’ as Elwyn put it, was whether Jed was a murderer. Croft could hold the key.
Douglas Croft was chatting to his family liaison officer. He looked up when the two detectives entered the interview room and sat down facing him. “Is it sorted? Can I go home?”
“Soon, Mr Croft. I’ve got one or two questions for you, if you don’t mind.”
He looked fearful. “Won’t put me in danger, will it? Those thugs will kill me if I say the wrong thing.”
Rachel smiled. “All I want you to do is look at some photos and tell me who you recognise.”
Rachel hoped she was on the right track. Part of her believed what Jed had told her this afternoon, and part of her wanted to believe it. She took out the photos and selected one of the randoms.
“Have a look at these photos and tell us if you recognise anyone. There’s no rush. Just take your time and tell me if any of these men ever came to your house. What about him?” She placed the image of the random on the table.
Croft studied it intently. “No. I already told you — it was Liam Beatty who threatened me.”
She put two more in front of him.
He shook his head. “Neither of them.”
“You’re doing fine, Mr Croft. Now let’s try a different approach, concentrate on picking out the men you do recognise. What about this one?” She put down one of Oliver Frodsham.
“I know him. That’s the lad who broke in. The one I wasn’t supposed to mention.”
Rachel nodded, that was what she expected. “And him?” The next photo showed Beatty. It was a good, clear one. If Croft had ever seen the villain then he’d recognise him from this.
“No. Never seen him before.”
Rachel closed her eyes momentarily. So far, so good.
“Do you know Liam Beatty, Mr Croft? Have you ever met him?” Elwyn asked.
“Well, no. Not a crowd I mix with,” Croft said. “Far too dangerous. I know the name though, everyone does. Anyway, he told me who he was loud enough. I’m surprised the neighbours didn’t hear. He shook his fist in my face, telling me what’d happen if I let him down.”
“You see, Mr Croft, that gives us a problem,” Rachel explained. “You can’t be sure it really was Beatty, and neither can we.”
She sifted through the remaining photos and put some down on the table, face up, as if for a card trick. They were all known associates of Jed’s, including one of him. “Take a real good look and tell me if you see the man who came to your house and threatened you.”
Croft pondered the photos. He seemed to spend hours looking at each one. To Rachel, every moment was a lifetime. It was a simple enough task. He should have picked out anyone he recognised immediately. But, apart from Frodsham, he knew none of them. So it couldn’t have been Beatty or anyone connected to Jed who went to Croft’s house that night. That was the only explanation
“Mr Croft, this,” she tapped the photo, “is Liam Beatty. Since you tell me you’ve never seen this man, I have to presume that whoever threatened you was using his name, pretending to be him.”
“It certainly wasn’t him,” he said. “He isn’t bad-looking. The bloke I met were an ugly bugger. Nasty too.”
“Would you be prepared to describe this individual to one of my officers so we can try and get a photofit?”
“If it helps.” He looked at her, relief written all over his face. “Does this mean those mean bastards aren’t after me — that McAteer bloke and his mob?”
“Yes, it does, Mr Croft.” Rachel smiled. Little did Croft know that she was just as relieved as him.
Chapter Thirty-three
Rachel returned to the incident room to be told that Mrs Andrews was waiting downstairs. “She reckons she’s feeling okay now and wants to talk while it’s still fresh in her memory,” Amy said.
“Okay. You can join me, Amy.”
Despite what she’d told Amy, Agnes Andrews looked tired and drawn, and was obviously still shaken. She sat on a sofa in the soft interview room, clasping and unclasping her hands.
Rachel smiled at her. “Thanks for coming in, Mrs Andrews. It was a dreadful ordeal you went through last night. We do need your input, but only if you are up to it.”
“It’s best if I do this now. Get it over with and I’ll be able to rest.” She wiped her eyes. “That man killed him, didn’t he? I heard the shot. I was terrified. I should have done something, but I just froze, I couldn’t think straight. I hid under the desk in Paul’s office, praying that lunatic didn’t come after me.”
“You rang us, and that was the right thing to do,” Rachel said gently. “Are you able to describe this man to us?”
Agnes shook her head. “It was too dark, he was wearing a hoodie and he kept to the shadows. He knew Paul’s name. I got the impression they’d spoken before, that Paul knew him.”
“What did he want?” Amy asked.
“He kept going on about some report he thought Paul had. He’d paid some young lad to break in and steal it, but the lad didn’t hand it over. He accused Paul of knowing about the land next door and how contaminated it was. He said the documents he wanted were about the land being cleaned and okay to develop.” She cleared her throat and took a sip of water. “It didn’t make much sense to me. It’s all rubbish. There never was any report, and everyone connected to that land knows about its problems. He said that Paul was involved in some scam, but I know he wasn’t. Paul was as straight as they come. The man said the land would be sold cheap and everyone would keep quiet because they were being paid to let everything go through.”
“Did this man mention anyone by name?”
“No. He referred to them as the boss and his business partner. And that they wouldn’t be happy if they didn’t get the report. Paul asked if it was a man called McAteer who’d sent him.”
Rachel’s heart sank. Was this right, or was someone trying to fit Jed up? Either way, it was bad news.
“Did he threaten you, Mrs Andrews?”
“Not really. Before he shot Paul, he told me to go to the office and get the money we keep in the safe. I think he wanted me out of the way.” She sobbed and dabbed at her eyes. “He could easily have killed me too. Got rid of the pair of us.”
She was right. Rachel had to consider why he hadn’t. The only reason she could think of was because he wanted Mrs Andrews to pass on this tale about the land, the report, and the person Paul Gregson had accused of being involved in the scam to buy it cheap and develop it, Jed McAteer.”
“Are you sure this man didn’t mention any names himself?” Rachel asked.
Mrs Andrews nodded. “No, it was Paul who asked about McAteer being involved.”
“And he alleged that they know the truth about the land?”
“That’s the impression I got,” Mrs Andrews said. “But you must understand how scared I was. I couldn’t concentrate properly.”
Rachel smiled at her. “You’ve done very well. If there’s anything else you think of in the coming days, please get in touch.”
Amy showed the woman out. Rachel sat on for a few minutes, deliberating on what she’d heard. Jed had assured her that he had nothing to do with the land. If what Mrs Andrews had just told them about a ‘boss’ was true, he could have been lying. Nonetheless, she couldn’t bring him in and ask him. Better to go a different route and lean on Franklin, the owner. Find out what he had to say about the land and what his plans were for it.
Chapter Thirty-four
Luke had no idea what had happened. The last thing he remembered was drinking on Canal Street with James. Now his head hurt and he couldn’t move his arms and legs.
“Sorry old son, but it has to be tonight. I’ve no patience you see, can’t
wait any longer.”
As Luke became more aware he realised he was lying naked and bound on an old sofa. He was terrified. “What are you doing?”
“Calm down. I need to get ready.”
“I want some water, please I’m dying of thirst.”
“Shut it! You’ll have to wait.”
He had no choice. Luke watched as James went through some ritual of getting dressed in weird-looking clothing. First, a white disposable coverall that covered him from head to toe, including his hair. Next a face mask, and finally, goggles to protect his eyes.
“Water. Please.” Luke’s eyes were wide open now and watching James intently. The sudden change in events was mind-boggling. “What are you doing? Why the fancy dress?”
“Drug wearing off? I can fix that.” James smiled wickedly. “I bet you don’t remember, do you? I slipped you something when we were at the pub.”
“Why do that? I was happy to come with you.”
James laughed. “This get-up I’m wearing is for you, pretty lad. We’re going to make a night of it.”
This was madness. “I don’t feel well. I want to go.”
“I bet you do,” James said. “There is real fear in those baby blue eyes. So touching. And so reminiscent of someone else. I should feel pity for you, for what I’m about to do. But I don’t.” He leaned forward until his face was almost touching Luke’s. “You look like the man I hate most in the world. You are so like him when he was younger, it makes me sick.”
“That’s not my fault,” Luke said hastily.
“I know that, I’m not stupid. But nonetheless you will suffer, just like the first one. And I’ll enjoy watching you.”
Luke could see from the crazed look on the man’s face that he meant it. “You’re bloody mad! Let me go or I’ll scream the place down.”
The man smiled cruelly. “No one will hear you. The street is full of empty houses. I’m going to hurt you and very soon you’re going to die in agony. I hope that has sunk in.”
“Give me some water, please,” Luke asked again.
“You can have some water, but I have laced it with the drug I gave you earlier. Still want some?” He gave the young man another cruel smile.
“Let me go,” Luke begged. “You know this is wrong. I’m not the man you hate. Why not go after him instead?”
“Oh, I will, but not yet.”
James crossed the room to a table and searched through a bag of tools. This was Luke’s only chance. His wrists were bound with rope, but he had skinny arms and delicate fingers. If he wriggled and pulled enough, he might work them free. While James hummed tunelessly and picked out some knives from his bag, Luke quickly worked on the rope.
James returned to Luke’s side, a smile on his face. “Still want that drink?” The man put a cup to his lips. “Now drink. You’ll feel better. It’ll take the edge off.”
This was it. His hands were raw and bleeding, but finally free. Luke jumped up and knocked the cup into the air. He gripped James by the throat and squeezed. “Let me go or I’ll fucking throttle you!”
Luke saw his confusion. James obviously didn’t have a plan for victims who fought back. Luke’s ankles were still bound but his arms were free.
“Slim little hands they might be, but they’re strong.” Luke smiled. “Worth their weight in gold, don’t you think?” James had a knife in his hand, but was too shocked to stop Luke from snatching it and cutting the rope round his ankles. “I should slit you open for doing this to me,” Luke said, putting the knife to the man’s throat.
Tear rolled down James’ cheeks. He was genuinely afraid. “You trapped me. You’re just like him. You always come out on top.”
“I’ve no idea what you’re on about. You’re mad. Who always comes out on top? We only met a few days ago,” Luke said.
“But I know you — ever since I was a child, you’ve tormented me. I suffered at your hands. I was screaming, burning, and you did nothing to help. You watched my skin blister and laughed, you cruel bastard! Getting even with you is the only thing that has kept me going all these years. That’s what drives me — revenge.”
Luke shook his head. “Not me. You’re off your head.”
* * *
The man was stunned. This wasn’t like him. For a moment, he’d lost it.
“I’m not mad, just damaged.” The man shook his head, trying to clear it. This wasn’t the person who’d hurt him. It had been another pretty, blond boy, many years ago. But Luke was here now, and he would suffer for it.
“Help me, Luke. Help me find a way back. I don’t want to be like this for the rest of my life.” The man had to redress the balance, regain the upper hand, show this upstart who was the real boss. He’d have to appeal to the gentle Luke, the one he’d first met. The one he could exploit.
The man wiped the tears from his face. “Let’s start again. I’m truly sorry for this. I don’t know what came over me.”
Luke looked as if he was having none of it, but he asked, “What made you like this? What happened back then?”
The man hoped Luke was wavering.
“Release me, and I’ll show you.” The man held his breath. This had to work. Luke could do him a lot of damage. “I have an older brother,” he began. “A beautiful creature, the favoured child, but he hated me, made my life miserable. I told my parents, but they didn’t believe me. In their eyes, my brother was a prince who could do no wrong. I was nothing but an ugly boy with who couldn’t make friends.”
“That must have been hard,” Luke said. “It’s never good to live in someone’s shadow.”
“It was worse than that. I lived in fear of my life.”
“Couldn’t anyone help you? A relative? Family friend?”
“My brother was crafty. No one ever witnessed his acts of cruelty. Then, one day he delivered the blow that left me like this. We were on holiday, camping miles from anywhere on the Isle of Mull in Scotland. Our parents had gone to the nearest town to get food. They were gone hours. My brother had been teasing me, threatening to hurt me. He chased me through the woods, but I hid. I can still recall those tree roots I took shelter in. They scratched my legs and ripped my clothes.” The man stood up. “I can’t say any more. It’s too painful.”
“Have it your own way. But unless you unload, no one can help you.”
“Let me show you, you’ll understand then.” With Luke still holding the knife, the man slowly removed the coverall. Underneath he was wearing a T-shirt and jeans. He pulled the T-shirt over his head and showed Luke his naked torso. Luke’s winced.
“My brother eventually found my hiding place. He dragged me back to the caravan and threw me into the camp fire like I was nothing but a piece of rubbish. As you can see from my body, the burns were horrific. It took hours for help to arrive. I was in such agony that I lost consciousness. Now, every time I look in the mirror, the scars remind me of what he did.”
“Wasn’t he ever punished?”
“No. I was too traumatised to tell anyone. I couldn’t talk for weeks. When I did eventually tell them, my parents didn’t believe me. They said I was a liar and took my brother’s part. He told them I’d been mucking about and slipped. They thought he was a hero for pulling me out.”
Chapter Thirty-five
“What was that business with Croft all about?” Elwyn asked Rachel on their way back to the incident room.
“Just getting things straight,” Rachel said. “I know it’s late, but gather the troops. I need a word.”
Rachel first went to her office. She needed a moment. That had been hard. If Croft had pointed the finger at Beatty, it would have been game over. But he hadn’t, so she was able to fight on. It was true Mrs Andrews had put McAteer in the frame, but only as much as Greyson’s killer had spoken about him. That was a long way from being proof. She took a few deep breaths. Time to speak to the team. She grabbed her notes and joined them.
“It is my opinion that we have been deliberately manipulated,” she began. T
he team whispered among themselves. “Douglas Croft was certain it was Beatty who threatened him. That, combined with the alleged battle over that land, meant that we believed him. Mistake!”
The whispering stopped.
“What Croft didn’t say, and it’s our fault for not making sure, was that he’d never actually met Beatty, or even seen him.” Amy gasped. “We have just shown him photos of Beatty and McAteer. No reaction, nothing. Not even a hint of recognition.”
There, she’d said it. Jed’s name had passed her lips in front of the team and her world hadn’t come to an end.
“Someone as yet unknown planned the Frodsham and Greyson murders and wanted to make them look like they were the work of McAteer and his gang.” This was chancing it. After what Mrs Andrews had said, she just hoped she was right.
They looked at each other, stunned.
“Do we have any clue who it was?” asked Jonny.
“No, but Croft is doing a photofit of the man who visited him. He has to be significant, otherwise why bribe Frodsham to steal those plans? And don’t forget, Greyson himself denied any plans existed. Not that we took much notice at the time. Greyson’s killer didn’t harm Mrs Andrews. I think he wanted her to tell us her story, name people, divert suspicion.”
“What made you suspect Croft had got it wrong?” Elwyn asked.
“Gut instinct,” she lied.
“And why rule out McAteer?” he said. “In my book he fits the bill.”
“It’s the land. McAteer would know that it’s contaminated. He’s been in the development business long enough. He buys land on prime sites, ones with no complications. He’d have no reason to risk good money on something that needs that much work. We’ll interview Franklin. He’s a developer as well as being the owner of that land. We’ll ask him if he has any idea why there’s been all the interest.”
Elwyn was still doubtful. “Why would the killer go to so much trouble to lead us astray like that? We were all set to lay the blame on McAteer and his thugs. And in my book, that’s what we should do.”
“You’re wrong,” Rachel said. “That’s exactly what the killer wants. He’s hoping we’ll stick the lot on McAteer.”
Next Victim Page 12
