“No excuse. You’re forgetting how badly Jade was hurt,” Higgs said.
“D’you remember any other names?” she said.
“Not really. They were just Jade’s mates. They were too young for me, so I never took much notice.”
“When was the last time you saw Becca?” Ruth asked.
Higgs looked worried, talk of Becca obviously upset him. “Look, you’re not pinning that one on me. I never lifted a finger against her.”
Calladine decided it was time to test his theory that the loud voice heard that night belonged to Johnno Higgs. “But you were there the night she was killed. The pair of you were heard arguing.”
Higgs looked away, but he didn’t deny it. “Becca was easy to argue with,” he said. “It was always about the same thing — she wanted more dope and I’d refuse. It was the same the night she died. The woman was off her ’ead as it was, any more was a real risk to her life.” He paused, took a deep breath. “This isn’t easy to say but given what happened, I know what I should’ve done, got her some help there and then, but I didn’t. I left Becca alone and went off to the Pheasant as usual.”
So it was his voice Maurice Fleet had heard. Johnno Higgs hadn’t tried to deny it either.
“When you left, was she okay?” Ruth asked.
“Not okay exactly, she wanted more heroin and when I said no, she said she’d ring someone else.”
“D’you know who that was?” Calladine asked.
“No. I usually provided Becca with what she needed,” Higgs said.
“She must have been sure of this new dealer. Are you certain you’ve no idea who it is?” Calladine said.
“No, but word has it they’re new and set to take over.”
That was worrying. Johnno Higgs only dealt in small amounts and mostly to people he knew. For a while now Calladine had been thinking that the field was wide open for a full-scale takeover.
“Did you see anyone else on the deck that night?” he asked.
“No. Place was like the grave.”
“And what time did you leave?” Calladine asked.
“It was almost nine. I know cause I just made the darts match at the pub, and that starts at nine on the dot.”
“D’you know what happened to Becca’s mobile? We didn’t find it with the body.”
“No idea. She had it the last time I saw her. Always had the thing in her hand.”
“Thanks,” Calladine said. “We’ll probably want to talk to you again, Johnno, so don’t go leaving the area.”
“Have you told Jade?” Higgs asked.
“Yes, although it was difficult to judge how she took it,” Calladine said.
“Like I said, the woman’s not all there.”
Chapter Sixteen
Back in the incident room, Ruth and Calladine went over the interview. “He wasn’t as difficult to deal with as I’d expected. Given he’s a dealer, Johnno Higgs didn’t seem to mind talking to us at all,” Ruth said.
“Don’t be taken in, he’ll be holding back. He’s been dragged in here enough times and he knows the ropes by now. He’s well versed in what to leave out,” Calladine said.
“I thought it went well, and he did tell us about the new dealing. We didn’t know about that,” she said.
“We need to get more information on that — who is taking the lead for starters. As for the murder, it depends on what Forensics turn up.” Calladine rubbed his head. “Becca was murdered. Her identity is not in question, but what about the bones found at Gorse House?”
“Millie Reed,” Ruth said.
“But is it really her? What actual proof do we have?”
“The fact she’s not been seen in years, the watch found on the wrist bones, what else is there?” she said.
“Not much, granted. But there is that bloodstain on the skirt.”
“We don’t have anything to do a DNA match against, Tom. It’s the same as with the bones. The house has gone, the granny’s dead, so there’s nothing left.”
“Will you dig out the evidence Long gathered when the bones were found? See if there was anything he came up with that might help us.”
She made a face. “It’ll all be in storage, and you know what that means.”
He did. Time spent in a dusty cellar containing too many boxes. He’d been down there to find his old notebooks. Even knowing exactly where they were, he’d still had to negotiate the metres of shelving and shuffle boxes around. “It’s all we’ve got, Ruth. We’re looking for a killer. We think there’s a link between the deaths of Becca and Millie, but we don’t know for sure that the Reed girl is dead.”
“We could do with a word with the others who were involved that day. Have another look in the file, see if any of them are still local,” Ruth suggested.
“Okay, you and Alice find whatever we’ve got tomorrow,” he said.
“Fine, now I’m off,” she said, grabbing her things. “You seeing your new lady friend tonight?”
“Which one?”
“You tell me.” Ruth grinned.
“I’m meeting that solicitor in the Leesdon Arms later. She wants to talk about Marilyn, can’t think why.”
“What about the other one, Kitty?” she asked.
“I’ll ring her and explain.”
“I was talking to Greco earlier. I told him he should be a bit more like you. Stop being so secretive, let it all out for the team to pick over. That way they’ll quickly lose interest and see him as just another bloke.”
“I’d prefer it if you didn’t pick over my love life, thank you.”
“You know what I’m getting at. Look at the rumours surrounding Greco and Grace for a start. We’ve all misjudged the man,” she said. “The kid he had with Grace is only six months old, you know what that means.”
Calladine hadn’t really thought about it. “What?”
“The first pregnancy failed, they split, made up and had another go at making it work. The kid they’ve got now was born after they married and has nothing to do with Brighton.”
Calladine considered this. “So? How does that change things? He’s still a weirdo.”
“No he isn’t, He’s just another member of the team with his fair share of life’s problems. We have to put the gossips right. I’ll take our lot and you can tell Long. Thorpe treats the whole thing like a joke. He sniggers like a big kid every time Greco’s name is mentioned, and it’s not fair.”
“Greco brings it on himself,” Calladine said.
“No he doesn’t, and besides, I like him. You might too if you only tried harder.”
Calladine pulled a face. He and Greco had settled into an easy sort of amicability, but that didn’t mean becoming best buddies with the man.
Ruth made for the door. “Enjoy your night and keep out of trouble.”
That would depend on what Debra Weller wanted. Calladine went into his office, sat at his desk and scanned through Higgs’s statement. It was as the neighbour had said, the argument, then the silence. Providing Higgs was telling the truth that meant only one thing, someone else had gone to Becca’s flat later on. But unlike Johnno Higgs, they’d been as quiet as the night and hadn’t been seen. Another dealer? Jade? Or someone as yet unknown?
Calladine tossed the statement into his desk drawer. He’d had enough for the day. Time to go home, walk Sam, his dog, and go for his meeting at the Leesdon Arms.
Chapter Seventeen
Debra Weller was younger than Calladine had expected, probably about thirty. She was tall with cropped fair hair, slender verging on too thin, and casually dressed in jeans and a shirt.
“Glad you could make it,” she said. “I’ve got us a table and told them we’d be eating. Hope you don’t mind.”
Calladine didn’t. Apart from the dog, he had an empty house to go back to. “You said on the phone that this was about Marilyn,” he said, taking a seat.
“I’ve ordered you a beer, that all right?”
Calladine nodded. A beer would suit him nicel
y. She was drinking wine, and he wasn’t a fan.
“Marilyn’s been given parole and I’d like your help.”
Parole? Marilyn was doing time for murder, and it was way too soon for the powers that be to consider releasing her. “How come?” he asked. “Who wangled that one for her?”
Debra Weller gave him an unimpressed look. “I assure you, it’s all above board. She’s been very helpful. Marilyn has given the police information that’s led to several cases her husband was involved in being cleared up.”
“Happy to dob him in now he’s dead. That woman wouldn’t say a word against him while he lived. I should know, I questioned her often enough.”
“That’s because she was too scared, Mr Calladine,” she explained. “Ray Fallon controlled everything in Marilyn’s life — in the end even what went on inside her head.”
That didn’t sound like the Marilyn he remembered. She was a strong-willed woman, more than able to stand her own corner. That was what Ray had liked about her. “You’ve met her, I don’t know how you can say that with a straight face.”
“Have you heard the term ‘coercive control’?”
Calladine knew very well what it meant. Debra Weller was trying to tell him that Ray bullied Marilyn into being the obedient little housewife who didn’t open her mouth unless he let her. That was nonsense, not how it was at all. Marilyn could give as good as she got. He shook his head. “If ever Ray tried laying down the law with Marilyn, he lost. She gave him a black eye more than once in the early days. Marilyn was a hard woman back then. Ray wouldn’t waste his time trying to get the better of her. Him and Marilyn were a team. For a while, both were as bad as each other.”
“You’re mistaken. That was a mere front, things weren’t like that at all. Marilyn was too ashamed to speak out. The woman didn’t have access to her friends, her freedom, or any money to speak of. He gave her a meagre allowance each week and she spent all of that on the dog.”
“Who’s told you this rubbish?”
“Marilyn. She gave a full statement along with information about Ray. The fact she killed him isn’t in dispute, but after due consideration the court decided that Marilyn was trying to protect herself from her husband’s cruelty. Some of the incidents she told us about have been backed up by people they both knew.”
“Which people?” Calladine laughed. “I wonder how much she paid them.” He swilled down the rest of his beer. He couldn’t listen to any more of this. “She’s spun you lot a yarn and you’ve fallen for it. Turn on the waterworks, did she? She’s good at that. She gives you details of jobs Ray did, tells you about secret accounts where money is stashed, and you fall for it. The woman is a master, hardly surprising since she had Ray for a teacher.” Calladine put down his beer glass a bit more forcefully than he’d intended. “You’ve been had, lady, that’s all there is to it.”
Debra Weller coloured up. She cleared her throat. “I’m not that easily duped, believe me. That woman suffered for years, so it’s hardly surprising she did what she did. Any woman in her position would be sorely tempted to do the same.”
Calladine looked Debra Weller in the eyes. “There was no love lost between me and Ray, but she killed him in cold blood, never forget that, and when he was helpless to stop her. He was dying anyway, for God’s sake. The man had a heart problem. Apart from which, he was no longer a danger to Marilyn — he was behind bars.”
“He was still calling the shots, telling her what to do, what to think, even from his prison cell.”
Calladine shook his head. This was rubbish.
“Okay, Mr Calladine, we aren’t going to agree. I accept that, but I still need your help.”
He sighed. “What do you want from me?”
“Marilyn needs somewhere to stay, preferably with someone who knows her. Currently she’s in a hostel and that’s not good for her. Shortly I’ll approach the court and ask if she can relocate to her sister’s in Cumbria, but until they agree, she’s asked if you would take her in. Apparently, you’ve been taking care of her dog.”
“Sam? What’s the dog got to do with anything?”
“Marilyn misses him. The animal was a large part of her life. She’s looking forward to having him back.”
Calladine had grown fond of Sam. The dog was good company, and he didn’t want to give him up. “What if I say no?”
“Then I’ll have to find somewhere else and that will take time. Finding a place to take Marilyn and her dog will be tricky.”
He didn’t like the sound of that either. Sam wasn’t getting any younger and he had settled down well with him. The dog wouldn’t appreciate being dragged around.
“How long’s she been out?” he asked.
“Two weeks, and she reckons the hostel is as bad as the prison. She needs somewhere, Mr Calladine, and you’re her last chance.”
“I’m a policeman, she’s the widow of a gangster, think what sort of position that puts me in.”
“She’s out on appeal,” Debra Weller said firmly. “Marilyn has done nothing wrong. What happened that day with her husband was down to coercion and her being terrified. You have to help her now. You’re her last chance.”
What choice did he have? “Okay,” he agreed finally, “but it’s a temporary arrangement, understand?”
“Yes, of course. She won’t be any trouble. Marilyn knows the rules. She’ll hardly leave the house and not give you any cause for concern, I promise.”
“You can’t promise that. You don’t even know the woman. The person you’ve just described is a fantasy, Ms Weller, not Marilyn Fallon.”
* * *
Calladine didn’t wait for the promised meal. He left the Leesdon Arms and marched off towards home. Debra Weller was off her head if she believed all that nonsense about Marilyn. He’d heard enough and didn’t want to get into a slanging match with her.
He decided to pick something up from the chip shop on the High Street on the way home.
“Can’t get away from you, can I?” Ruth called from inside.
He was pleased to see her, a welcome diversion from the confusion going on inside his head.
“What’re you doing here?” he asked.
“I gave Harry his tea earlier, intending to save mine until I’d got him to bed. But then I got into a blazing row on the phone with Jake. After that, I couldn’t be bothered cooking.”
“What’s he done now?” Calladine asked.
“He’d promised to take the little lad out tomorrow and now he reckons he can’t. It’ll be down to that bloody woman he’s taken up with,” she said.
“Not good. Harry should come first. Mind you, my evening’s not been much better. I met that solicitor woman. Marilyn’s out — can you believe that?”
“Nothing about the justice system surprises me anymore, Tom.”
“Oh it’s worse than that. She wants me to put her up. I tried to say no — I mean, how can I? She’s a convicted murderer and I’m a policeman, but she played the Sam card, so I gave in. What else could I do? When she sees how happy and contented he is with me she’ll think differently. I have to persuade her to leave him behind where he’s happy.”
She smiled. “Call yourself a policeman. You’re nothing but a big softy.” It was Ruth’s turn to be served. “What d’you want?” she asked. “Shall I get us both a chippy tea and we’ll go back to mine?”
“Yeah, that sounds great. Got any beer in?”
Chapter Eighteen
Day Three
When Calladine arrived the following morning, Ruth wasn’t in the incident room, but her jacket was over her chair as usual.
“She’s gone for a rummage through the archive,” Alice told him. “She was in here at 7 a.m. on a mission and I haven’t seen her since.”
She’d be looking for anything to do with Gorse House and Millie Reed. His mobile buzzed. It was a text from Julian, he wanted a word. “I’ll be in my office,” he told Alice.
“Tom, we’ve got something,” Julian said. “We’
ve been trying to make sense of the crime scene, not easy given the mess the killer left behind. There was blood all over the floor, and on initial examination we did find prints from a trainer. Whoever made it must have stood in the pool of blood surrounding the victim’s head. The clearest print is between the head and the wall with the writing on it. Find those trainers and I suspect we’ll find traces of the victim’s blood on the soles,” Julian said.
“What size?”
“Small, so possibly a woman’s,” Julian said.
Higgs was a big bloke, so it couldn’t be him. “Thanks, we’ll get on to it. We have someone in mind, so I should have something for you later today.”
Calladine was thinking of Jade O’Brien. They’d have to pay another visit to Angel Court, but this time they’d be sure to get a warrant first.
* * *
Within the hour, Ruth was back from the depths. “I found something,” she told Alice, dumping a storage box on the spare desk. She tapped on Calladine’s office window and beckoned to him. He should see this too.
“Have you spoken to Long?” she asked him when he joined them.
“Yes, he doesn’t remember a thing. Bloody useless he is.”
“Well, you should. I’ve had a look through his old files and there’s a lot in them. Whether you remember or not, there was an investigation of sorts after Agnes Reed died and Millie disappeared. The house was searched, and a number of items taken away.” She nudged him. “Bet you didn’t know that, did you?”
“Why? Agnes Reed died of a stroke,” he said.
“She did, but there was no sign of Millie. The girl simply vanished, didn’t even attend the funeral. It’s thought the last time she was seen was before her granny was carted off to hospital, on the day she had the stroke.”
“I don’t recall any suspicion of foul play,” Calladine said.
She tapped a folder. “Two years ago, Long spoke to a few folk. After Agnes Reed died it was believed Millie had gone to stay with a cousin of her grandmother’s in Liverpool. The milkman went round to Gorse House to collect his money, but no one was in. He thought it odd because the curtains were pulled shut and the place was locked up tight. He told the police, the place was searched, and Forensics gave it a cursory once-over, but there was no evidence that anything untoward had happened to the girl. They did find a letter, however, from a woman called Florence Reed offering to take Millie. She would have been sixteen by then, so, given the letter it’s possible that no one looked too hard.”
DEAD SORRY a totally addictive crime thriller with a huge twist (Calladine & Bayliss Mystery Book 11) Page 7
