by David Evans
She walked up the short path to her front door, put the key in the lock and turned. As she opened the door, she felt the palm of a hand push her inside.
“What the …” She tripped over the holdall that had been beside the door since Sunday.
The door slammed shut and the big foreign man bent over her. “You need be careful,” he said with a smirk.
“You again.”
He offered a hand to help her up but she refused, getting to her feet herself.
“Just get out. Get out!” she screamed.
He held both hands up. “Look, I have no wish to hurt you. I only need to know where Chapman is.”
“I told you last week, I have no idea. Now, get the fuck out of here.”
He tutted calmly. “Really, that is no way for a young woman to talk. I’ll bet you don’t talk to Steve like that. Unless …” He looked down to her breasts, then her legs and finally, the black holdall. “This is a very stupid place to leave a bag. It could cause an accident.”
He bent down and began to unzip it.
“Leave that alone. It’s nothing to do with you.”
He let her snatch it from him and stood up. “Why don’t you tell me what you know? He isn’t worth it.”
“For the last time, there’s nothing to tell. He left here early hours of Thursday and I haven’t seen him since.”
“But you’ve heard from him.”
“No.”
“Have it your way. But my people will not be pleased when they find out you have been lying to me.”
She pulled herself up to her full height. “You don’t frighten me.”
His smile only registered on his lips. “You have been warned,” he said, turned and let himself out.
Veronica leant against the back of the door and burst into tears.
“Well?” the driver asked, once his passenger had returned.
“She says the same as before. She doesn’t know where he is, that she has not heard from him.”
“You believe her?”
“There was a bag of clothes behind the door. I think he has been in contact and they are ready for him to collect.”
“You must return.” The driver checked the street and pulled away from the kerb. “For now, we have another matter to attend to.”
A few minutes later, Veronica’s friend drove down the street and pulled into the space left by the big car. Veronica had completed packing and was watching from the window. She dashed out and slammed the door, shoving her keys through the letterbox. As she strode down the path, the telephone rang inside.
34
Ten to seven in the evening and the sun was dropping behind the trees at the end of the road. The stone buildings radiated the heat of the day and it still felt warm in the street. Souter knocked on the front door of Alison’s terraced house. After a few seconds, the door opened.
“Hi,” he said.
Alison smiled. “Hello you. I was wondering if I’d see you tonight.” She swung the door open allowing him to step straight into the living room.
“Sammy not around?”
Alison closed the door. “Gone to see Susan, would you believe.”
He looked surprised. “Those two a bit chummy, then?”
Alison walked through to the kitchen and he followed. “They were chatting away like old friends when we went in to see her the other night. I think they’ve both got interesting life stories to exchange. Both had difficulties to overcome in different ways.”
“True, I suppose.” Souter leaned against a worktop. “How’s Susan doing?”
“I spoke to Gillian this afternoon and she’s due for another operation tomorrow morning. They’ve got to clean out the leg wounds. It’s routine for that type of injury apparently. That’s why Sammy went in to see her tonight, to wish her well.”
“If everything goes okay, I’ll try and pop in to see her tomorrow.”
She pulled a bottle of Chianti from the wine rack. “You staying?”
“Mmm, looks good.” He put his arms around her and bent his head to kiss her. “Have you eaten?”
“Sammy and me had something when I came in. Why, are you hungry?”
“Just thought we might eat out but …”
“I can knock you something up if you like.”
He produced his best lecherous expression. “Best offer I’ve had all day.”
“Behave and open this.” She smiled and thrust the bottle into his chest.
He found the corkscrew and began to open the wine as Alison opened and closed several cupboards in search of something suitable. Eventually, she looked in the freezer and pulled out a flat cardboard box. “Pizza all right for you?”
Five minutes later, back in the living room, the margarita warming in the oven, Alison was snuggled up next to him on the sofa, a glass of wine in her hand.
“So how are you two getting along?” he asked.
“She’s okay.” Alison turned to look at him. “She’s a good kid really. God knows what she’s been through in that short life but … so far so good.”
“She could do with a job but with her past, it might not be that easy.”
She turned back round and tucked herself under his arm. “You’re right. But did you know she’s a whizz on the computer?”
“No. She told me she had a friend who was.”
“Well, she sorted mine out here yesterday. I’ve been having real problems, running slow, crashing regularly. I thought I’d got a virus.”
“And Sammy’s fixed it?”
“Yeah. Running perfectly now, and as fast as I remember when I first got it.”
Souter leaned his head back into the sofa. “Well if she’s good with the new technology, it’ll help getting a job.” He took a sip of his wine and gently stroked Alison’s hair. “How long have we got?” he asked.
“Pizza should be ready in another five minutes.”
He chuckled. “No, I mean … how long do we have … you know?”
“Like I said, another five minutes.”
“Cheeky sod,” he said and playfully hit her with a cushion.
They were back on the sofa, relaxing in the afterglow of their earlier energetic activities upstairs. Alison was wrapped in a pink dressing gown, Souter back in his trousers and a loose shirt. The television was quietly reporting the ten o’clock news. At times like these, he would have previously enjoyed a cigarette. Losing interest in the latest inflation figures, his thoughts wandered and he realised that since he’d met Alison, his craving for nicotine had subsided. Since Colin had given up his cigars, he’d begun to think it was really a crazy habit and perhaps he should go the whole hog as well and give up completely.
From outside in the street, running footsteps could be heard approaching. A second later, a key was hurriedly inserted in the lock, two attempts before it engaged and then the door flew open. Sammy rushed in and slammed it shut behind her. She was breathing fast and appeared close to tears.
“Sammy, what’s wrong?” Souter jumped up from the couch.
“Bob! Sorry, I didn’t expect …” Sammy took a deep breath. “I’m being stupid. Don’t bother about me.”
“Nonsense. Come and sit down. Something’s obviously bothered you.”
Sammy sat on the armchair. “It was just … well, now I think about it … probably just my imagination.”
“Sammy, let’s hear it.”
“Okay.” Another deep breath. “I got the feeling I was being followed.”
“What made you think that?”
“I dunno. It was … well, I thought I spotted a car when I was waiting for the bus outside the hospital.” She looked at Souter. “You know I went to see Susan.”
He nodded.
“It was a dark Merc. I mean it looked like it was just parked up but I got the impression there were two people inside – just sitting there.”
“But you couldn’t see them clearly?”
“No. But when I got off the bus here in Ossett, I’m sure it was the same
car that pulled up behind it. Only this time some bloke got out. He didn’t look at me or anything. In fact he slowly walked off in the opposite direction.”
“So just a coincidence then?”
“Except when I turned into Station Road he was coming towards me.”
“Then what?”
“I turned and ran. But don’t worry, I didn’t come straight here. I doubled back through a few side streets before I came in from the opposite end.”
“And you didn’t see him again?”
“No.”
Souter got up, opened the front door and looked up and down the street. “Nothing,” he said when he sat back down.
Alison looked nervous. “Who do you think it might have been?”
“No idea.”
He leaned forward. “How old was the man? Could he have been a punter?”
Sammy shook her head. “He didn’t look familiar. In his thirties, I’d guess.”
“Possibly an associate of your pimp?” he went on.
“Look, forget it. It’s just my imagination, okay?” She looked at Alison. “Can I have a drink?”
“Help yourself.”
“Thanks.” She walked off into the kitchen as Souter and Alison exchanged glances.
Sammy returned with a glass of Coke, her mood lighter. “I haven’t told you, have I?” she said to Souter as she sat down in the chair again. “I’ve got some news for you.”
“What’s that then?”
“You know your friend, the detective?”
“Colin, DCI Strong.”
“Well, he’s looking for someone, isn’t he?”
“He’s probably always looking for people.”
“But when you spoke to him on Saturday after we came out of the Town Hall he mentioned somebody could have gone off to stay with their cousin, Barry Whitefield.”
“You heard that?”
“As well as knowing what to forget, I’ve also learned to remember things that could be of use.”
“So what about this Whitefield character?”
“I think I’ve got five or six possibilities.”
Souter looked at Alison, surprised, then back to Sammy. “So how have you done that?”
She smiled. “The internet’s a mine of information, if you know how to use it. You can trace families and all sorts, but this search still needs a bit more work to refine it. I need to check things like the electoral roles.”
“So this friend of yours who’s a ‘genius on the computer’ as you told me, they don’t exist, do they? It’s actually you, isn’t it? You tracked down Paul Duggan?”
“It’s only what I’ve picked up from other people. It’s quite easy really.”
“Go on then, tell me what you’ve found out so far.”
35
Tuesday
When Magda returned from the viewing room she looked as if she had no more tears to cry. DS Ryan, who had accompanied her, nodded the confirmation Strong already knew. She looked at Strong, her expression asking the question before she spoke. “Why? What she done to anyone here?”
“I will find out, Magda. And I will find whoever did this.”
“That bastard Szymanski … and Mirczack. They did this. We were okay till they …” Her eyes blazed. “Why don’t you arrest them mister important policeman.”
“We need to talk properly,” Strong said, leading her down the corridor to the mortuary office Cowling had arranged for them to use.
After some coffee had been brought in, Strong, Ryan and Cowling sat down in the cramped office to talk to Magda. Stainmore was chasing up feedback from the pathologist and ballistics reports on the bullet used in the murder.
After she officially confirmed that the body was that of her sister, Strong began the questioning he hoped would tease some important information from her.
“First of all, Magda,” he said, “we are all truly sorry for your loss. The last time we spoke when you came in to see us, we were looking at a missing person’s enquiry. We’re in a different situation now, so I’d like you to be absolutely honest with us – not that I thought you weren’t before – but forget anything else you may think you might be in trouble for, the only thing that interests me is finding out what happened to your sister and who is responsible.”
Magda slowly nodded.
“So can you tell me exactly when was the last time you saw Helena?”
“On Thursday, a week ago. She tell me she was going to visit some friend.”
“I know that’s what you told me before but that friend doesn’t appear to exist.” He sat back in his seat. “Now, my turn to be honest. I know that Helena worked at a massage parlour, Sweet Sensations, in Chapeltown.” A shocked look passed over Magda’s face. “But from what we can tell, she was only employed as a receptionist, she didn’t do anything unsavoury.”
The woman looked down.
Strong leaned forward, arms on the table. “Again, Magda, I’m not interested in anything else other than finding Helena’s killer. Now, did you know, or did you suspect she was working in some capacity?”
Slowly, she looked up at him, held his gaze for a second then said, “I know not what she do but I did think she do something.”
“What made you think that?”
“She go out on certain nights and come back around eleven. Each time she tell me she visit friend in Leeds. But one night I see her getting into his car at end of street.”
“And who’s car would that be?”
“Szymanski’s.”
“What kind of car does he have?”
“I think a BMW, black, but it was him driving.”
“When was the last time you saw Szymanski?”
“It was then, the week before she disappear, the Tuesday, I think.”
Strong gave a wan smile. “You’re doing really well, Magda. Everything you can remember, no matter how small it may seem, will help us.”
For the first time since she sat down Magda took a drink of her coffee.
“So, just to recap, the last time you saw Helena was a week past Thursday, that would be the 1st of September?”
“Yes.”
Strong made a brief note before continuing. “When you came to see us last, you mentioned you’d come home and found Helena with Szymanski and Mirczack on one occasion.”
“Yes.”
“Can you tell us again what happened?”
“I came home and they left quickly.”
Strong sighed deeply. “There must be more. Did they say anything? What were they doing? Anything you can remember, however small, may be vital.”
“They no expect me to come home. They all look surprised when I came in. Szymanski and Mirczack were both standing.” Magda swallowed hard and fought back tears. “Helena was sitting. I could tell it was not relaxed. They quickly finish what they say.”
“Could you tell what they were talking about?”
She looked over Strong’s head and into the distance for a second or two, as if trying to recall something. “I got impression Mirczack was warning Helena not to do what she had done before. He say something like ‘Make that the last time. You know what happens.’ Then he say to Szymanski, ‘Let’s go.’”
“You’re sure that’s what he said, ‘Make that the last time. You know what happens.’?”
“I think so. He was speaking quietly. Then he put his finger up like this.” Magda held up her forefinger at an angle. “He raise his eyebrows then he pushed past me and left.”
“What about Szymanski? Did he have anything to say?”
“He just say to Helena, ‘Be careful,’ then he follow Mirczack. But then he turn round and look at Helena, holding a finger to his lips.” She mirrored the action.
“Okay Magda, DS Ryan will take you back to Wakefield.”
“What about Helena? When can …” She became tearful again.
“It’ll all depend on when the coroner releases … her.” Strong stopped himself from referring to Helena as ‘the body’. “I’ll
try and find out as soon as I can. But for now, thank you for your help.”
She slowly rose to her feet. “You will get them?”
“I will do my very best,” he promised. “In the meantime, when you get back home, I’d appreciate it if you would let DS Ryan have a look around Helena’s room. There may be something that might help us.”
Magda looked as if she was about to say something, but just nodded, turned and left the room with Ryan.
As they departed, Stainmore appeared, acknowledged the woman and Ryan, closed the door behind her and sat down.
“What news, Kelly?”
“Pretty interesting, I’d say, guv. Cause of death, as we already know, confirmed as a single gunshot to the back of the head. Initial estimate of time of death given as between seven to twelve days ago. That’s between a week ago Wednesday and last Monday. He’s conducting more tests, you know the usual thing with insect life, to refine that. But I did say, she was last seen on the Thursday.” She pulled out her notebook. “However, the fascinating thing is, the bullet that did the damage, and it did do some damage internally, was one of these semi-jacketed wadcutter rounds you mentioned had been used against Chris Baker.”
Strong leaned back and looked to the ceiling. “Shit,” he said. “I’ve not come across too many shootings in my career … but two using this same ammunition in such a close period of time. They’ve got to be connected.”
“You suspected that last night though, didn’t you? That’s why you asked about an exit wound.”
He nodded and sat back up straight. “When I saw her in the boot, there was no obvious sign. So how soon before we can get something?”
“I’ve arranged for the fragments to be sent to the firearms lab in Leeds,” Stainmore answered.
“Good. That’s where Baker’s evidence has gone. I’ll chase that up when we get back to Yorkshire.”
Strong stood up and held out his hand to Cowling. “James, thanks for all you’ve done for us.”
The Suffolk man shook hands with him. “No problem. Only wish I could help more.”
“I’d appreciate it if you could let me know as soon as the coroner can release the body. And anything else your forensic team might uncover. But for now,” he glanced towards Stainmore, “I think we’ve gleaned as much as we can down here, Kelly. Time to rattle a few cages back north.”
