Dead Guilty

by Helen H. Durrant

  Calladine and Rocco resumed the interview.

  “Feeling better now, Andrew?” Calladine asked.

  The lad grunted a response. He didn’t look happy.

  “This isn’t just about the drugs you were found with. It’s a bit more serious than that. We’re investigating two murders.”

  “I aint killed nobody,” he fired back, his eyes wide with shock. “You can’t pin that on me.”

  “I’m not saying you’re responsible, Andrew, but you can help. Look at these photos and tell me if you know who any of these people are.”

  Calladine placed an image of Sean Barber in front of Harvey.

  “I know him. That’s Barber. Knifed on the street he was.”

  “Do you know who stabbed him?”

  “No,” Harvey said defensively. “But it wasn’t me.”

  “Think carefully, Andrew. Help us and we’ll help you.”

  “Someone said it was them men. You know, them going about sorting out the kids.”

  “It wasn’t them though, was it?”

  “Dean said Barber was a threat. Said days before Sean bought it that he wouldn’t last long.”

  “A threat to what? The drug scam you had going?”

  The lad scowled back. “Didn’t ask what he meant.”

  “Dean who?”

  “Dean Laycock.”

  “Are you and Dean friends?”

  “Sometimes. We set things up together.”

  “What things?” asked Calladine.

  The lad crossed his arms. “I’ve already said too much. My life is worth nowt if Street finds out.”

  “Ah, the elusive Street. The big boss, who’ll likely have you killed the moment you step out of here. Great set-up the bloke’s got, don’t you think?”

  Harvey looked at Calladine as if he’d just realised the reality of his situation.

  “You know what we’re talking about here,” Calladine continued. “The temporary drug dens you set up in people’s homes. People like Alex Geddes, for instance.”

  “Have you ever met Street, face to face?” Rocco asked.

  “No, he texts. Reckons he’s busy,” Harvey replied.

  “Do any of you have any theories about who he is? You must have talked about it amongst yourselves.”

  Harvey shrugged. “Never thought about it. The pay’s okay and we have a laugh.”

  Calladine placed the photo of Frankie Halliwell on the table. “Know her?”

  “Yeah. She came to one of the houses we’d taken over, looking for Sean.”

  This came as a surprise. “She knew Sean Barber?”

  “Said so, didn’t I.”

  “Did she find him?”

  Harvey shook his head. “He weren’t with us. She got angry and did one.”

  At that moment Alice came into the room, interrupting proceedings. She handed Calladine a note.

  “I’ll be back.” He followed Alice to the incident room.

  “The results have just come in, sir,” she said. “Thought you should know at once.” She handed him another sheet of paper.

  “Prints found on the bag the knife was found in belong to Stokes,” Calladine told the team. “We need to find him. That man’s stalking these crimes like a shadow. What about the knife itself?”

  “Nothing found, apparently. He must have worn gloves.”

  “Gloves to do the stabbing, but not to wrap the weapon. Odd that.”

  “Are we doing anything about Annie and Billy?” Ruth asked. “Doing another runner is suspicious. I wouldn’t mind talking to them again. Leaving that registration document like a cryptic clue for us to find? I’m sat here trying to work it out, but I’m stumped. And what’s Giles Pennington got to do with anything?”

  “Do we have his background now?”

  “Yes, sir,” replied Alice. “Before he turned up in Leesworth, Pennington worked for a firm in Sheffield. He was well thought of and they were sorry to see him go. He’s not married and has no children. According to the woman I spoke to in Sheffield, he does have at least one failed relationship in the bag.”

  “Don’t we all,” Calladine remarked humourlessly. “Where does he live?”

  “I haven’t got an exact address, but he has an apartment in Bolton.”

  Calladine scratched his head. “Wonder how he met Alder? We need a word. Did he own that Audi and, if so, what was Sean Barber doing with it?”

  Ruth picked up the phone. “I’m going to get onto the ports and airports — we don’t want Annie and Billy skipping the country.”

  Calladine returned to the interview room.

  “Can I go now?” Harvey asked.

  “I’m afraid not, son. You’ll be staying with us for a while yet.”

  The lad was indignant. “You can’t keep me here. I’ve got places to be, things to do. This isn’t fair.”

  “Does the name Conrad Stokes mean anything to you?” Calladine asked, ignoring this last remark.

  “No.” The boy was sullen.

  “Any of your little gang mention the name?”

  “No. No names. No grassing, that’s our motto.”

  “You’re still not getting it, are you, Andrew?” Calladine leaned forward across the desk. “You are in a lot of trouble. Help us and it could go easier for you.”

  “I know nowt.”

  “Where did the drugs come from?”

  He shrugged. “Dunno.”

  “When you set up a den in someone’s house, who delivers the stuff?”

  “Some kids. Sometimes a few of them. Sometimes Barber did it.”

  “These kids, who were they? Did you know them?”

  Another shrug. “Just kids. Young some of them, too. We’d bung ’em a tenner — they were happy with that.”

  “How young?” Calladine asked. “C’mon, Andrew, or we’ll be here all night.”

  “I don’t knock about with kids, so I can’t tell you. They didn’t say owt, just dropped off the gear and did one.”

  “The Hobfield is a small estate, are you sure you didn’t recognise anyone?”

  “I’ve told you, no.”

  “My colleague was attacked by one of your gang — Dean Laycock. Another lad made off with a holdall, wouldn’t give it up when told to. Drugs?”

  Andrew Harvey nodded.

  “What’s his name?”

  “I don’t know. He’s not local. Look, I’ve said too much. They’ll kill me for this.”

  “Nothing to lose by telling me in that case, Andrew.” The lad ran a hand down his face. “Tyler Dodd.”

  Not a name Calladine knew. “Not local, so where’s he from?”

  “Other side of Manchester.”

  “I want you to look at some photos, Andrew. While I get them sorted, I want you to write down the names of everyone else in your little gang. I’ll be back later.” He turned to the uniformed officer standing in the corner. “Once he’s finished writing, take him back to the cells.”

  “How’d it go?” Ruth asked as Calladine entered the incident room.

  “Andrew Harvey knows a little. It was young kids who delivered the drugs. Bring Dean Laycock in again. Tell him we’re holding his mate and let’s see if that makes him any more talkative. Also, ask the Manchester force if they have anything on a Tyler Dodd. We need a word with him too.”

  “I’ll do that,” Rocco said.

  Ruth yawned. “Well, I’m off home. Jake and Harry to see to. After leaving them to their own devices for a couple of days, God knows what sort of a state the house’ll be in.”

  Calladine said goodnight then turned to Alice. “Get me photos of Richard Alder, Giles Pennington and Billy Alder. Let’s see if Andrew Harvey recognises any of them.”

  “Richard and Billy Alder are on the incident board, sir,” the DC replied. “Hopefully there’s one of Pennington on the Sheffield company’s website.”

  “Okay. In the meantime, I’m off to have another word with Alf Alder. See if Billy’s been in touch.”

  * * *

>   Alf Alder wasn’t pleased to see Calladine. He opened the door and swore. “Just leave me alone. Them kids have given me hell since you were here last.”

  Calladine was used to such cold welcomes on the Hobfield. Many of the estate’s residents distrusted the police and were often uncooperative. He wanted to prove to Alf that he could help.

  “In what way, Alf?” he asked.

  “Caterwauling around the deck. Name calling. God knows why. One knocked on the door asking for Billy. Wouldn’t ’ave it that he weren’t ’ere. No idea what he wanted.”

  “Has Billy been in touch?”

  “Not a word. Mind you, that’s normal for him. Goes missing for days on end. He’ll come home when he’s good and ready.”

  “If he does contact you, please phone me at once. You have my card. These kids who were bothering you, d’you have any names?”

  “No idea. Probably that football lot,” he said, coughing. “Told them I’d have a word with their parents, not that I know them. That did it, though, flew down that deck like rats up a ginnel.”

  Calladine was puzzled. Why should Alf Alder be of such interest to those kids? More questions for Andrew Harvey and Dean Laycock.

  Chapter 32

  Day 8

  Ruth had phoned in early to say she’d be late. She was having the dressing on her hand seen to. Calladine was at his desk reading through the reports of sightings of Billy and Annie that had come in overnight. There was only one that held promise. They’d allegedly been spotted in a Carmarthenshire village called Llangunnor. Like Ynyslas, it was sparsely populated. The problem he had was there were another dozen reports just like that one, and all different locations.

  “I’ll have another go at Andrew Harvey this morning. Do we have the photos?” he asked Alice.

  “Pennington is posing a problem, sir,” she replied. “He doesn’t appear anywhere on his former employer’s website and he has no social media presence either.”

  “I’m going to Alder’s factory soon. If necessary, I’ll take one myself,” Calladine decided. “Speak to this company in Sheffield, see if they’ve got one in their records they can email over.”

  “DI Calladine, can I have a word?” It was DCI Birch, and for the first time this week, she’d asked, not barked.

  “Of course, ma’am.”

  “We’ll go to the canteen,” she said. “I could do with something to eat.”

  It was unusual for her to invite anyone to join her. “Everything okay, ma’am?” he asked as they headed down the stairs.

  “Not really.”

  “Do you want to discuss it?”

  “No. But I have no choice, as it concerns you.”

  Intrigued, Calladine followed her to a table in the far corner of the canteen. While he waited, she went to the counter and returned with two coffees. “When I saw the food, I couldn’t face it. That’s what worry does to you.” She gave him a half-hearted smile. “Did you find the Alder woman and Billy?”

  “Yes, ma’am, and we spoke to them. However, they appear to have moved on since. Annie Alder is terrified of her husband and what he might do if he catches up with her.” Calladine shook his head. “We may have to bring them in now. Billy Alder is certainly of interest. We found the registration document for the burnt-out Aldi in his rubbish bin. That’s a conversation in itself.” Now for the tricky bit. “We’re still looking for this ‘Street’ character. We have no choice. He’s a big part of what’s going on.”

  Birch gave him a hard look before speaking. “I suspect that DCS Chesworth is in the pay of whoever is orchestrating these crimes. I suspect that his brief is to make anything that might out this ‘Street’ person go away. I also suspect that he has been turning a blind eye to a lot of other misdemeanours recently. How the current drug problem is related, I don’t know. Those vulnerable residents you reported on, at least one report has ‘disappeared.’ The Rowena Hargreaves one. I wanted to check the details and looked for it on the system — nothing.”

  Calladine was stunned. Coming from Birch, this was a serious allegation. “Bill Geddes will not drop it until someone is facing charges, and one of my officers was injured during the Hopkins bust. Even Chesworth can’t make that go away.”

  “Not yet he can’t, but over time, who knows?”

  “If what you suspect is true, then Chesworth is getting paid by a criminal gang to help them.”

  “I realise that. But the problem with Chesworth has only come to light during this case. I’m not sure why or how he was got at. But I do know that he and this ‘Street’ person must have a connection.”

  “It could be blackmail, ma’am. Perhaps something dodgy in Chesworth’s past.”

  “I don’t know, but Chesworth is up to his neck in it. There is no proof as yet, but as the senior investigating officer you must tread carefully. Do you understand, Calladine? Your career depends on it,” she warned.

  “There’s a lot of drug dealing going on in the town. I have no idea who is implicated as yet. Pennington is in the frame, and we can’t rule him out for the murder of Frankie Halliwell, despite having no proof.”

  “In what way is Pennington implicated?”

  “The blade that killed Frankie was found taped under the seat of Pennington’s burnt-out car. A car being used by one of the drug crew, Sean Barber.”

  “Where did you find the car?”

  “The Hobfield.”

  “In that case, anyone could have planted the knife there. Any reasonable solicitor would soon get round that one. Anything else?”

  “Not yet, ma’am, but I plan to see both Alder and Pennington this morning. I will have to tell Alder that we’ve found his wife and that his daughter is safe.”

  “If I’m right, he’ll already know. The report you filed — DCS Chesworth will have seen it. I don’t like any of this. But I need something concrete before I take my suspicions to the anti-corruption unit. At which time they will either throw me out on my ear or this mess will be investigated at last.”

  “I’m sure they’ll take you seriously, ma’am.” He smiled.

  “Don’t bank on it. Isaac Chesworth has some powerful friends.”

  A sobering thought. Calladine checked his watch. “I’d better get on with it then. Once I’ve spoken to Alder and Pennington, I’ll report back.”

  * * *

  Calladine took Alice with him to Alder’s office. The place was as busy as ever. Lorries queued at the gates waiting to get in. The factory must be working at full capacity.

  “It’s some business he’s built here,” Alice remarked, looking around. “Look at that lorry — from the sign on its side, it’s come all the way across Europe.”

  “Ingredients for the biscuits, I imagine. They have some turnover. Most of the UK supermarkets take their stuff, and they export, too,” Calladine told her. “Come on, let’s get this sorted.”

  They found Richard Alder and Giles Pennington together in Alder’s office. Pennington’s face was thunderous. The pair had been arguing again.

  “I’ll leave you to it,” Pennington said. “I just popped in to invite Richard to lunch.” He turned to Alder. “I’ll wait in reception.”

  “We will require a word with you before we go,” Calladine said. “Don’t leave the building.”

  “That sounds like a threat, Inspector. What the hell do you imagine I’ve done?”

  “I’m not sure, but I’ve got a growing list of possibilities.”

  Pennington’s face turned a deep read as he disappeared through the door.

  “Arrested my wife yet?” Alder blasted, once Pennington had left. “Surely she can’t evade the law for ever? Your DCI Birch told me that Sophie is safe, so effectively, Annie has kidnapped my daughter. I insist that Sophie is returned to me at once. Annie is unfit to be anyone’s mother, never mind a three-year-old child.”

  “We have spoken to her,” Calladine confirmed. “Your daughter is fine. In good health and quite happy.”

  Alder slammed his fist on
the desk top. “I want her back! Do your job and stop making excuses!”

  “Did you know that Annie’s sister, Frankie, has been killed?”

  Alder’s head shot up and he stared at the pair. “No one said anything to me. Why wasn’t I told? How did it happen?”

  He appeared genuinely shocked and that surprised Calladine. “She was stabbed, Mr Alder. Murdered.”

  Alder poured himself a whiskey. All the puff had gone from his sails. “Frankie was a loose cannon, and loud, but she was harmless. Who’d want her dead?”

  “That’s what we’re trying to find out. When did you see her last?”

  “I can’t remember. What with all the palaver around Annie’s disappearance, I’ve had only one thing on my mind — Sophie.”

  “It would help our investigation if you could remember, Mr Alder. We are trying to re-trace her last movements.”

  “She wasn’t staying at the house anymore. I can’t face it either, now that Annie and Sophie aren’t there.”

  Alice spoke. “Annie is afraid of you Mr Alder — did you know that? She’s afraid that if she returns you will do her harm.”

  “What? Why? I’ve never done anything to hurt her. And I’ve certainly never threatened her.”

  “We found her living in an isolated spot,” Calladine said. “She said it was so that you wouldn’t find her. She gave us the impression that if you did, their lives were at risk.”

  “She’s lying! I don’t know why, but she knows I’d never hurt her. Why is she doing this?” His face hardened. “What is going on inside that head of hers? Annie is my world. I thought we had it all.” He shook his head. “You must have got it wrong. My Annie knows me well enough to know I’m not a violent man. I lose it now and again, but not with her. Usually it’s about the business. It’s a huge responsibility.”

  “She was very frightened, so much so that she didn’t trust us to keep her whereabouts from you. Annie has moved on again, and the search is ongoing.”

  “I don’t know what’s going on. She plotted and schemed to rip me off and steal our child, but even now I don’t hate her. I want them back. We need to put Sophie first and begin again.”

  Calladine could see that Alder was struggling to get his head around this revelation. “How long have you known Mr Pennington?”