DEAD BAD a gripping crime mystery full of twists

by Helen H. Durrant

“Do you know why DI Calladine isn’t at work?”

  “He’s ill, sir. Shingles, I believe.”

  The young detective looked away and shuffled his feet. Greco wasn’t stupid. They knew. Ruth Bayliss must have told them. Greco turned on his heel and went back into Calladine’s office. The Costello file was still on his desk where he’d left it, but the paperwork from inside it was missing.

  “You’ve arrived.” Ruth stood at the door, smiling. She came in and closed the door behind her. “I know why you’re here. I had a word with DCI Birch about DI Calladine being missing. I’m also aware of what she thinks. I must make it clear from the start that I do not believe that Tom took a bribe.”

  Greco considered this. “I’m starting from a neutral position, neither believing nor disbelieving. The warrant isn’t in yet anyway, so it’s all still conjecture. I’ll do my best to root out the truth, and I’m hoping you’ll help me.”

  Ruth nodded. “As much as I can.”

  “You can start by not discussing this any further with your colleagues.”

  “I can’t promise that. We work closely together on the most horrific crimes. We’re fond of each other. Tom is well respected. The team want him back.”

  Greco frowned. He envied Calladine. He doubted that his own team felt the same about him, particularly not now, after what happened with Grace.

  “Currently we have a challenging case on our hands,” Ruth said. “We are short staffed, but I’ve asked DC Alice Bolshaw to work with you. She’s very good and thorough.”

  “Thank you. Send her in and we’ll get started.”

  Chapter 13

  The Bentley glided to the front of Heron house and came to a stop. A group of lads who’d been idling at the entrance moved out of the way sharpish. The car belonged to Miles Erskine, but that wasn’t widely known. All the Hobfield residents knew was that the posh limo belonged to the top man around there. Most didn’t ask questions. Experience had taught them it was better not to know.

  But Newt knew. He knew exactly who and what Miles Erskine was. To Newt, he was a sure-fire way of getting his hands on a lot of money. He stepped out of the shadow cast by the tower block and strolled towards the car.

  “Get in. You all set?” a voice said from the back.

  Newt sat in front, next to the driver. The voice from the back belonged to Miles himself. This made Newt nervous. The villain didn’t like appearing in public and usually sent one of his thugs to do business. The operation must be big if he was here in person.

  Newt nodded. “Ready to go, boss.”

  “There’s been no money from you for days.”

  Newt’s stomach was turning somersaults. “I had expenses. The new people, they wanted something up front. Given the size of the operation, like, I thought it only fair. Show goodwill and all that.” A bluff, but Newt hoped Miles would accept the excuse. He didn’t want to drop Alenka in it. She was quiet for now, but if she felt threatened, she’d tell the police. That’d make Miles angry, and do Newt no good. But he wasn’t about to take a battering on her account either. He was in luck. Miles didn’t appear particularly interested in the details.

  “I hope you’ve chosen your people carefully. As you say, this is a big one. I stand to make a great deal of money and I want everything to run smoothly. I will not tolerate any cock-ups from the likes of you. D’you understand?”

  Newt nodded.

  “Delivery’ll be at seven tonight. The merchandise is meth and spice. You’ll get rid of the lot. You know your customers and what they want. You won’t have long — I’ll be back tomorrow for what’s mine.”

  “No probs, Miles.”

  The man smiled coldly at Newt. “There’d better not be. I’ve got a new supplier, and I’ve made a huge investment. I can get my hands on all the dope my operatives can sell. My people have worked hard, sorted every little detail. My network has spread fast. It now reaches out all over Manchester and beyond. I’ve had to grease a lot of palms and that’s cost me. Let me down, and you’ll become another unfortunate statistic. Get me, Newt?”

  “You can count on me, Miles. I know what I’m doing.”

  “Good, because things’ll go badly for you if you mess up. Now get out.”

  The car drove off. Newt heaved a sigh of relief. He’d dodged one there, saved Alenka’s skin — this time. She owed him. He’d make sure the bitch understood her position. She was going to work for him whether she liked it or not.

  * * *

  “The shop’s on the High Street. Parking’s a problem round here. Keep your eyes peeled,” Ruth said, driving slowly.

  Lowermill was a lot smaller than Leesdon. The main street was full of eateries — a tapas bar, numerous tea shops, a chippy and a huge Chinese restaurant. Behind all these were a library and the museum. The only parking space was up by the swimming pool, a fair walk away.

  “There, alongside the market stalls.” Rocco pointed.

  She grunted. “Double yellows.”

  “Stick something on the windscreen. We’re police, don’t forget.”

  “Why’s this place so busy?” Ruth said irritably.

  “Market day.”

  “There are only three stalls! And one of them hasn’t bothered. This place gets worse. How people who work here manage is a mystery to me.”

  Ruth was on edge. Greco hadn’t said much. He was a fair man, but neither of them knew who they were up against. Someone had planted that money. What else had they done? Then there was the problem of Alice. Perhaps it hadn’t been such a good idea to have her working with Greco. They were alike in many respects. God help them all if she and Greco hit it off. Alice wouldn’t know which way to turn.

  “The Playstop’s over there.” Rocco pointed to a colourful shop window. “I’ve got the photo.” He tapped his overcoat pocket.

  “Let’s hope they remember something useful. We really could do with wrapping this up. And I have to admit, my mind isn’t really on the job. Not with what’s happening to Tom.”

  Rocco grinned. “Thought this was your opportunity to shine.”

  “I’m far too worried to shine at anything right now. I’m stumbling my way through this case. We’ve got Birch on our backs. She’s expecting solid progress by the end of the day. If not, we’ll get landed with Long. If Greco doesn’t prove Tom’s innocence, and Long takes over, I’ll seriously consider that offer Jake has from the school down south.”

  Rocco looked at her. “You can’t leave us, Ruth. If the boss doesn’t come back, we’ll need you more than ever.”

  “I’m flattered, really I am, but I have my own sanity to consider. We just have to find the evidence that’ll clear his name.”

  The shop was a delight, full of toys of all kinds. Many of them were handmade and expensive. Flora Godfrey, the owner, was only too pleased to help. She recognised the pink teddy straight away.

  She smiled. “A local woman made these. Currently she’s doing a range of farm animals for us.” She picked up a pink piglet and a fluffy lamb. “See? Sweet, aren’t they?”

  Ruth tapped the image of the teddy. “We want to know who bought these.”

  “Because most of our range is unusual, that particular item wasn’t that popular. You can get pink teddies at any toyshop. Folk prefer these.” She shook one of the lambs. “We don’t stock the teddies any more. But a year ago, we had a dozen made. It was one of our first stock items.” She reached under the counter and took out a sales ledger. “It was a sale-or-return arrangement as I recall. We sold only three, and the rest I gave back.”

  “Who bought those three?” Ruth asked.

  “They went to the States. A woman took them for her granddaughters. Triplets, she said. They all had to have the same. See, I made a note in the book.”

  Not sold locally then. Ruth sighed.

  “Can I have the name of the woman who made them?” asked Rocco. He looked at Ruth. “It’s possible she sold the rest herself or gave them away.”

  Ruth should have thought of t
hat, but her mind was elsewhere.

  “Her name’s Angie Carson. She lives on the Hobfield. Heron House.”

  They left the shop and walked back to the car.

  “We’ll go and find her,” Ruth said. “It’s highly likely she sold or gave them away round the estate.”

  Rocco sighed. “Here we go again. No matter what we find ourselves involved in, it always comes back to that damned estate.”

  Ruth managed to raise a smile. “We get a name off her and we’re on our way.”

  Ruth heard someone call her name.

  It was Jo Brandon, Tom’s daughter’s partner. She was an estate agent, and had an office in Leesdon. She was clutching a file of paperwork. She must be valuing a property, Ruth guessed. Bad luck, bumping into her. Ruth was hoping to avoid awkward questions from Tom’s family.

  “Is Tom alright? He rang Zoe last night, but the chat was garbled. He kept going on about how he was okay and on his way home. She said he wasn’t making much sense.”

  “The shingles has laid him low. He still has a fever. I can’t get much sense out of him either,” she smiled. “A few more days and he’ll bounce back,” Ruth said.

  “Zoe even rang the station and spoke to that DCI of yours, but she was no help at all.”

  Zoe obviously didn’t know about the protection yet. “Tell Zoe not to worry. I might pop round and see him myself later. I’ll get him to ring her, put her mind at rest.”

  Ruth saw the look. Jo didn’t believe her.

  “Tom told Zoe he’d been away due to a work thing. You’re telling me he’s ill. Is he in trouble?”

  Ruth tried to look assured but failed. “It’s something and nothing. There really is no need to worry. We’re sorting it.”

  Chapter 14

  Greco and Alice were closeted in Calladine’s office, sitting on either side of the desk and ploughing through Costello’s bank records. As far as they could tell, the villain had once had a fortune, but not anymore. Prior to being apprehended, he’d made a number of bad investments. He certainly had nothing like the hundred thousand that was languishing in DI Calladine’s account.

  Greco was finding it difficult to concentrate. The office was an alien environment, and nowhere near up to his standard of cleanliness. There were dirty teacups on the windowsill, and old sandwich cartons containing mouldy bread in the bin. Calladine had left a pile of papers on top of the filing cabinet. Greco had taken hot water and bleach to the desktop before starting to work. It was distracting. If he was forced to spend any longer here, then the office would have to be thoroughly cleaned. There were photographs too, people Greco didn’t know.

  “Who’s the young woman?” he asked.

  “Zoe. DI Calladine’s daughter.”

  “And the others?”

  Alice peered. “That old black-and-white one is his parents, I think.”

  “A family man, then?” Greco said.

  “In some respects. I don’t know the boss as well as the others, but his family life isn’t as simple as it seems from these pictures. I’ve picked up that much in the time I’ve been here. His daughter wasn’t in his life until just a few years ago. I said that the couple in the black-and-white photo were his parents, but actually the woman isn’t his birth mother. When you get down to it, he’s one huge complication.”

  “Families can be complicated.” There was a note of resignation in his voice. He looked up. “We could always go and see Costello. Ask the man himself. Fancy a trip to Strangeways?”

  Alice frowned. “If the money is down to him, he’s hardly going to admit it.”

  “A face to face chat might get us somewhere. We need to ascertain if he has other accounts overseas. We know about a couple,” he tapped the file Alice was preparing, “but there could be more.”

  She still looked dubious. “And you think he’ll talk?”

  “The case against Costello is serious. But there may be some leeway for us to do a deal if he’s prepared to help. I’ll speak to my contact at the CPS. They might also be able to confirm how important DI Calladine’s testimony is to the case.”

  “Do you want me to arrange the visit to the prison?” Alice said.

  Greco nodded. “Yes. We have to interview him in any event. Make it soon.”

  Greco wanted to get home. He had no intention of staying in Leesdon any longer than he had to. Alice was okay. In different circumstances, he would have enjoyed working with her. She paid attention and was meticulous. But he didn’t like working in this office, or the station. Besides, he had put in for a transfer to another area. He had yet to discuss this with his super and needed to remedy that quickly. It was a pity, the task force he headed was getting results. But since the affair with Grace Harper and the loss of her baby, he couldn’t remain. Greco felt he’d lost all credibility with his team.

  While he was ruminating, Alice had made the call.

  “Tomorrow morning, sir. That okay?”

  “I’ll speak to the CPS before we go.” He looked at her. “You’re new to the team here, aren’t you? How are you getting on?”

  Alice smiled. “I’ve actually met them before, on a previous case when I was a student.”

  “They’re very close. They keep things tight, I’ve heard. DI Calladine works very differently from me. I’ve also heard that his team are fond of him.”

  “That’s true,” she said.

  “Is that why they’ve asked you to work with me, because you’re the new girl?”

  Alice flushed slightly. His question had obviously embarrassed her. “Possibly. Both Ruth and Rocco would be too biased. They’ve been through a lot with Calladine and they trust him completely. I know they don’t believe he’s done anything wrong. They certainly don’t believe he’s taken a bribe. Ruth reckons he’s been set up for some reason.”

  “She may be right. And if she is, we need to work out why. On the other hand, Calladine is coming up to retirement age. Perhaps someone made him an offer that was simply too tempting.”

  * * *

  Ruth parked the car in front of Heron House. “We’ll speak to Angie Carson, and then get back to the nick,” she said. “Leaving Greco with the place to himself makes me nervous. He’s working in Tom’s office. He could find anything. We should have searched the place ourselves first. If someone can plant a small fortune in his bank, goodness knows what might they have put in his office.”

  She got out of the car and stood in the concrete square staring up at the block of flats. “It’s rumoured that this little lot is coming down. Several new low-rise blocks and houses were supposed to be built on the site of the old cotton mill on the Oldston Road.”

  “Hasn’t come to much. It’ll be money,” Rocco said. “Leesworth Council can barely afford to pay its staff wages these days.”

  Ruth shook her head. “Nothing to do with the council. Erskine Construction was earmarked for the project, but it’s all been shelved for the time being. The old mill has gone into production again.”

  “Oh? What sort of production?”

  “Cotton spinning. And it’s being sent on to Burnley for weaving, just like the old days. Looks like Cottonopolis could make a comeback.” Ruth smiled.

  Rocco snorted. “You don’t really believe that, do you? It’d take some heavy investment to get anything major started around here.”

  “I know, but it’s providing a few much-needed jobs for the older generation.”

  Rocco laughed. “They’ll be the only ones with any experience.”

  Ruth looked away. “My granny worked in a cotton mill. It’s what killed her in the end. She was bad with her chest.”

  Angie Carson lived on the fifth floor of Heron House. She stood at the door and looked them up and down. “You’re police.” And then she smiled. “You get to know living in this place.”

  Ruth returned the smile. “We’d like to ask you about the soft toys you make.”

  “Why?” Angie asked. “Not against the law, is it?”

  “No, not at all,
” Ruth said. “You made some pink teddy bears for Playstop. The owner told us that she only sold three and you took the rest back. Can you tell us what you did with them?”

  Angie Carson stood aside. “You’d better come in.” The flat was small and fairly dark, but neat enough. “Now you’re asking me something. How do you expect me to remember that? I dish them out to my nieces and my friends’ kids, for birthdays and such.”

  “Do you know if they still have them?”

  She shrugged. “No idea. They’re only little teddy bears.”

  “Can you compile a list of names for us?” Rocco asked.

  “Now you’re asking something! Nieces and nephews fine, but how am I supposed to remember every little kid I’ve handed one to?”

  “Write down as many as you can recall,” Rocco told her. “A uniformed officer will collect it later today. Could you have given some to people who weren’t friends or family? Or maybe one or two of them got lost or stolen,” Ruth said.

  Angie laughed. “We’re talking about small stuffed toys. Who’d want to steal one? They’re not worth anything.”

  “We’ve found one at a crime scene. Hence our interest,” Rocco said.

  Angie shuddered. “A crime scene? How awful! How did one of my teddies get there? Now you’ve got me thinking.”

  “Anything you remember would be a great help,” Rocco said.

  “I did give a bagful to a charity shop in the town. They were asking specifically for toys. I’d hoped Playstop would keep the orders coming, so I’d stockpiled.”

  Ruth groaned inwardly. That meant anyone could have bought one.

  She and Rocco left Heron House and made their way across the bare expanse of concrete back to the car.

  “Is it worth asking at the charity shops?” Rocco asked.

  Ruth shook her head. “We’ll send a uniform, but I won’t hold my breath.”

  On their way out of the estate, Ruth saw a group of kids surrounding a young mum pushing a pram. They were giving her a hard time, shouting and swearing at her. They ran around the pram, poking their fingers at the child.

  “They need a lesson in manners.” Ruth stopped the car and took off in their direction, in just the right mood to blast the lot of them. But the kids scarpered.