Dead Guilty

by Helen H. Durrant

  “He’s talking rubbish.”

  Annie Alder sounded adamant, but there was confusion on her face. Ruth was equally sure that Annie knew very well what she was on about, but for reasons of her own wouldn’t tell them.

  “Have you received any more emails, Mrs Alder?” Alice asked.

  “No.” Annie felt at the bruise on her cheek. “I want you to go now. I’m tired.”

  “Okay,” Ruth agreed, “but we’ll talk again.”

  The two detectives left Annie and made their way back along the hallway. “She’s lying,” Alice whispered. “I see what you mean now. I think there is something iffy going on.”

  “Piss off the pair of you, did she?” Frankie Halliwell stood by the front door. “She’s good at that just lately. She’s pissed lover boy off big-style too. Who’d have thought it? Just goes to show, you can’t rely on anyone.”

  “Do you recall Sophie going to a party recently?” Alice asked her.

  “No. But then I wouldn’t, would I. Keep away from little family get-togethers as a rule. Safer that way.”

  “What d’you mean, Frankie?” Ruth asked.

  “Only that it’s better to keep out of his way. Rick hasn’t got time for anyone these days, never mind parties.”

  “Business that good, eh?” Ruth said.

  Frankie Halliwell gave her a funny look. “He’s raking it in, that’s for sure. But I’m not sure it’s all down to that factory of his.”

  Ruth was about to ask her what she meant when Annie interrupted. She looked furious.

  “You’d be wise to keep your nose out, Frankie,” she shouted from the doorway. “Get in here and stop gossiping. I want you to help me with something.”

  Ruth was curious but decided to let it drop. “Bye for now,” Ruth said as they left.

  “What d’you think she meant?” Alice asked Ruth once they were outside. “If Richard Alder’s money isn’t down to the biscuit factory, then where is he getting it from?”

  Ruth looked thoughtful. “I think we should make that question a priority.”

  Chapter 14

  The biscuit factory offices were housed in the new building. The set up was impressive. Looking at the décor and office furniture, Calladine could see that no expense had been spared. Testament that Alder had put his Hobfield roots well and truly behind him. Coming from his family, that couldn’t have been easy.

  Calladine was shown straight up to Alder’s office.

  “Found my daughter yet?” he barked as the detective entered the room. Alder was sitting at his desk, and, despite the early hour, a glass of whiskey was in his hand. Giles Pennington, his new friend, was pacing the room. There was an atmosphere, as if Calladine had interrupted a heated argument between the two men.

  Richard Alder had changed a lot since Calladine had known the family a few years ago. Back then Richard had been the skinny, small one. Now he was tall and had filled out. He still had the mop of blonde hair that had made him stand out as a teenager.

  “You’re running out of time. You lot are dragging your feet. You don’t seem to realise how serious this is.” Alder tossed a piece of paper at him. “Arrived by email within the last hour. It pulls no punches. He’s asking for a million or we don’t see Sophie again. I’ve updated your DCI Birch.”

  “I hope you people have a plan,” Pennington said stonily.

  Calladine glanced at the man and then sat down on the chair opposite Alder. Whoever Pennington was, he wasn’t local. Folk brought up around Leesworth had a distinct northern accent. Pennington’s was too bland. He was a tall man with short dark hair. His clothes were expensive. Pennington looked like the archetypical businessman, but Calladine wasn’t taken in. There was something of the crook about him.

  Calladine took a few moments to study the text. Just a few words and to the point. The abductor had played his hand — a million pounds for the safe return of the child. But there were no instructions.

  “You will get at least one further communication,” came Calladine’s considered reply. “An email or a phone call telling you how they want the money delivered.”

  Alder gave a hollow laugh. “Let’s hope they don’t want it in cash. That would give the bank in Leesdon a panic attack.”

  Calladine frowned. “You must not pay anything without our say-so. Do you understand? And don’t tell the press anything else. We’ll make a statement in due course. Excess publicity will make the abductor jittery, and he may do your child harm.”

  “Richard wants his daughter back. What is he supposed to do, wait for you to act?” Pennington smiled smugly. “To date you have achieved nothing. At least this way, Sophie comes back to us.”

  “If it was up to me, I wouldn’t have involved you at all.” Alder was angry now. “It was Annie who did that. The silly bitch doesn’t know what she’s doing half the time.”

  Calladine was taken aback. More evidence of a shaky marriage. “This isn’t a domestic drama, sir. Your daughter is in real danger unless we find her soon. Your wife did the right thing. You need us, and my advice is don’t hand any money over. What’s stopping whoever took your child from grabbing the ransom and running without giving Sophie back? You have no guarantees. Have you told Annie about the demand?”

  Alder ran a hand over his face. “This is a mess.” He swallowed the rest of the whiskey in one go. “All Annie has to do is take care of her. She can’t even manage that properly.” He shook his head. “She doesn’t know about the demand. And you don’t tell her — understood? It’d finish her.”

  “We’ll do our best.”

  Alder buried his face in his hands and started to weep. “Find her, please. You have to bring her home. If anything happens to Sophie, it will kill us both.”

  “I will send one of our technical team round to look at your computer. They will look at the IP address the email was sent from, and other information.” At that moment Calladine heard his phone beep. He took it from his pocket. It was a message from Ruth. She told him that Annie could not recall a children’s party.

  Despite the state Alder was in, he had to ask. “Mr Alder, do you remember Sophie attending a party recently? She may have fallen, bumped her head?” He gave the man a few moments to think. “It may have been fancy dress.”

  “Sorry. I work long hours. Sophie could have gone to a friend’s birthday party, I just don’t know. Annie is the one to ask.”

  “No matter. It is something that has come up, that’s all.”

  “What do I do now, Inspector? Apart from go slowly mad that is?”

  “Stay alert and the moment you get anything else you contact me.” Calladine handed him a card. “Do not do anything on your own. You do that and you risk Sophie’s life.” He paused. Alder was not handling this well. “Do you have any idea at all who might have done this?”

  Alder stared back at the detective, his eyes bright with rage. “Do you imagine I’d be sitting here wallowing over a whiskey if I did?”

  There was no doubting how cut up Alder was about his daughter’s abduction. Calladine’s observations of the man made him believe that Alder’s reaction rang true. On his way back to the car, Calladine spotted Billy Alder in one of the firm’s garages. He’d have to speak to him too. He was family.

  “Billy!” Calladine shouted. “A word.”

  Billy Alder was nothing like his younger brother. He didn’t have Richard’s style or looks. Where Richard wore a suit, Billy was dressed in jeans and overalls, and had oil on his hands.

  “I didn’t realise you worked here, Billy.”

  “Kind of him, don’t you think? I ask my brother for work and he sticks me in there.” He nodded at the workshop. “We service all the lorries, and keep the company vehicles on the road.”

  “It’s work, Billy. Keeps you out of trouble.”

  “He’s having a laugh,” Billy sneered. “Likes to lord it over everyone. But folk aren’t fooled. He’s got the Hobfield running through him just as we all have. Can’t shake your roots.”r />
  “You know about Sophie going missing?”

  Billy nodded. “Bad business.”

  “When did you last see her?”

  “To be honest, I can’t remember. He might be my brother, but we don’t socialise. Likes to keep me in my place, does Rick.” At that moment there was a loud crash from the workshop. “Got to go, place falls apart if I don’t keep an eye on those idiots.”

  * * *

  Ruth had a hunch. Annie was such a worrier that it was possible she’d sought medical help if Sophie had indeed bumped her head. Back at the nick, Ruth phoned an old friend, Doc Hoyle. Sebastian Hoyle had been the senior pathologist attached to Leesworth hospital. Since retirement, he’d worked part-time as a locum. Ruth hoped he’d be able to help them.

  “It’s a long shot, but I have to find out if a child was seen either in A&E or the walk-in centre within the last few weeks. It will have been for a bump on the head. I don’t need details, just a yes or no will do.”

  The doc pursed his lips. “I will need the consent of a parent, Ruth. You know how this works. As much as I appreciate what you’re trying to do . . .”

  “I know, I know,” she sighed. “Now I feel bad for asking. Let me get back to you. I’m sure no one is going to object.” She paused for a moment. “Perhaps you could have the answer ready for next time I call? The child’s name is Sophie Alder.”

  Ruth’s instincts told her that Annie wouldn’t give her consent. She rang Calladine.

  “Are you still with Alder?” she asked.

  “I was just about to leave. Why?”

  “Ask him to ring the doc and give his permission for him to tell us if Sophie was treated for a bang on the head recently.”

  “Is it important?”

  “I think so.”

  Half an hour later, Doc Hoyle rang her back.

  “Lucky for you I know Rick Alder. I’ve met him at the cricket club a couple of times. He’s happy for me to give you any information there is.”

  “And?” Ruth asked, impatient after the wait.

  “Sophie was seen in A&E a fortnight ago. The doctor who dealt with her said the child was dressed up in one of those princess dresses the kids find so appealing.”

  “Was the bump a bad one?”

  “No. It was a case of a panicking parent, nothing more.”

  Chapter 15

  Calladine arrived back at the station to find Ruth and Alice sifting through a pile of photos.

  “Monika dropped these off,” Ruth said. “Why are they so important?”

  “There’s an elderly woman that Monika’s care home sees to. The woman had a number of silver items stolen. Given what we found in Sean Barber’s room, she might get some of them back.”

  “How was Alder?” she asked.

  “Gutted. What about Annie?”

  “I’m not sure. Annie said she didn’t recall the party but the doc said it was only a fortnight since Sophie was treated for the bump to her head. And she was wearing fancy dress.” She walked over and tapped the incident board. “I’m wondering why Annie’s behaviour is so off-beam for the mother of a kidnapped child. Why didn’t she simply tell us the truth? Also, she’s got a nasty bruise on her cheek.”

  Calladine frowned. “Did she say how she got it?”

  “Only the usual story — she tripped.”

  “Has she received any more emails?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “Well, Richard Alder has received a demand for a million,” Calladine said. “He hasn’t told his wife. We keep that close for the time being.”

  Alice looked shocked. “Does he have a million to hand over?” she asked. “Frankie thinks all his money comes from the factory. She might have said more, but Annie stopped her.”

  “Like I’ve said before, Alder’s factory is a damn good business,” Calladine reminded them.

  “Okay, forget the money for a moment,” Ruth said. “Why is Annie being so selective in what she tells us?”

  “Could she be having an affair?” Alice suggested. “That might be where the bruise came from. Her husband finds out and lamps her one.”

  “I doubt it,” Ruth said.

  “Don’t rule anything out,” Calladine told them as Rocco entered the room.

  “I’ve got three of the vigilantes downstairs including Bill Geddes. I reckon he’s worth leaning on, guv. He’s angry about something. It’s oozing from every pore. He flies off the handle at the least provocation.”

  “Good work, Rocco. You and I will speak to him shortly.” Calladine turned to Alice. “Have a go at matching the items in the photos with the haul we brought in from Sean Barber’s bedroom,” he said. “Then you and Ruth have another go at Annie Alder. If you ask me, she knows damn well who took her daughter.”

  “What about her friend, Joanne? She might know something,” Alice suggested.

  “No. Go straight to Annie. Push hard enough and she’ll crack. She’s afraid of something. Don’t tell her about the ransom demand, but do threaten to tell her husband that she’s been less than honest with us.”

  * * *

  Bill Geddes sat in the interview room with a uniformed officer for company. He did not look well. And he was jumpy. “Whatever it is, I can’t help,” he said as Calladine sat down opposite him.

  “I think you can,” Calladine said firmly. “You and your mates set about a lad the other night. Gave him a right beating.” Calladine saw Geddes’ eyes slide away. He had guilt written all over his face.

  “The little gits need teaching a lesson. They rob and vandalise and no one lifts a finger, particularly not you lot.”

  “You’re an angry man, Mr Geddes. Was it you who finished him off? Waited for the others to leave and then stabbed him to death?”

  Calladine saw the man’s eyes widen with horror. “What d’you take me for!” he blustered. He half rose to his feet and leant forward. “A bit of rough stuff, teach the lad a lesson. But that’s as far as it went. All the group want is a bit of peace and quiet round here. The thieving bastards are taking over, and they don’t care who gets hurt. But retaliate, take them on, and it’s a different story. Gets your attention then.”

  “The lad is dead, Mr Geddes,” Calladine said soberly. “Someone killed him. You and your mates were there, and you were the last to leave.”

  Geddes slumped back into his chair. “He were fine when I left.”

  “Why did you leave the others? The night’s work wasn’t over, I believe.”

  “After laying into the lad I realised I hadn’t the stomach for it,” he admitted. “True, I wanted to make the bastards pay for what they did to my boy, but I’m not a violent man. I threw a few punches. I don’t deny that, but I’m no killer.”

  “You do a pretty good impression, Mr Geddes.”

  “What would you know! I wanted to kill the kids who did that to Alex, but I can’t, I don’t have it in me. I realised that after I’d nearly kicked that lad half to death.”

  Was Geddes telling the truth? Time to change tactic. “Tell me what happened to your son.”

  “Talking about Alex hurts. You have to understand, this isn’t easy. There was just me and him.”

  “Tell me what you can. I want to understand.”

  Geddes relaxed a little. “Alex wasn’t like most lads his age. He was autistic, for a start. He has always struggled and raising him was no picnic, believe me. He didn’t make friends easily, preferred his own company. He wasn’t too bright either. He was always in trouble at school for not doing his work. The time I spent trying to get him help — but it came to nothing in the end. Earlier this year a group of local lads took him under their wing. Dragged him around with them for months. When I saw who they were I knew no good would come of it. A couple of them were off the Hobfield, and that Barber kid was another.”

  Calladine looked at the man in surprise. “You’re telling me that Sean Barber, the lad who was knifed, was one of the group who went around with your Alex?”

  “Yes. Him and
the others kept going round to Alex’s flat, making a noise, disturbing the neighbours. I told him, carry on like this and you’ll get thrown out. I’d worked hard, badgered the council for months to get him that place. I wanted to prepare him for the future, make him independent, you see. He won’t always have me to sort him out. After his death I had to clean up. The place was in a right state. Those kids had all but trashed it.”

  “Did you find anything hidden there, Mr Geddes. Drugs, for example?”

  Geddes shook his head. “No. But then I wasn’t looking.”

  “Give us the address. Our forensics people will take a look.”

  Bill Geddes nodded, then continued, “This summer, they all went to that concert up on the Clough. Alex wasn’t keen, but he went along anyway. By then I think he was already addicted and afraid to stand up to them in case they cut off his supply. Their hold on him was just too strong to shake. At the concert they plied Alex with booze, fed him pills and cocaine. Probably for a laugh, that’s what they were like. But this time Alex had a bad reaction. The stewards at the event called an ambulance but he died in hospital later that day.”

  Geddes was visibly upset.

  “That was a terrible thing to happen,” Calladine said. “But those lads weren’t to know that Alex would react so badly. It was deemed to be accidental death, I believe?”

  “It were no accident!” Geddes spat. “They knew those pills were dodgy. Used my boy as a bloody guinea pig.”

  “Do you have any proof of that?”

  “Course I bloody don’t! None of them will talk to me and you lot did nowt.”

  Calladine took a breath. “I’m aware that you’ve asked for a second post-mortem. What is it you think they will find?”

  “Marks on his body that will prove they hurt him in some way. They were using Alex. I don’t know what for, but he wouldn’t have been with those lads unless they had something on him or were using physical violence.”

  Calladine considered this. Alex Geddes had been a vulnerable young man. Why would lads like Sean Barber and the others even be interested? What was it they were after? If it was just about having a laugh, they’d have got bored pretty quickly. But according to Geddes, Alex had been plagued by them for a while.