Chapter Thirteen
By the time Rachel had finished with Jude, it was late, time to call it a day. She rang the station and spoke to Elwyn. “The leather jacket — the name on the back is definitely ‘Gav.’ In the morning, get Amy to look at the previous tenants, find as many of them as she can and see if they ever employed a Gav or Gavin. There’s more, but I’ll fill you in tomorrow. I’m beat and need to get home.”
“We saw Rita Pearce on the same road as Siddall’s bungalow — bit of a coincidence, that. She said she didn’t know Andy Siddall — that’s who we’d been to see — but she has to be lying. That got me thinking. It could be that the pair are more than just friends. Whatever she said, they have to know each other from the Andy’s Auto days. It’s one explanation for the bruise on her cheek — a jealous husband.”
“All very interesting but it doesn’t help the case,” Elwyn said.
“It might if the dead man knew and had threatened the pair in some way. Siddall has suffered a serious hand wound in the past and can’t use it. I’m wondering if Ray Pearce did that.”
Rachel couldn’t think about it now. She was done in and needed to rest. Elwyn’s speculations were just spinning around in her head. “We’ll discuss what it might mean tomorrow.”
Rachel left the car park and headed for the A6 — busy at this time of the day. Working in central Manchester had its advantages but it was quite a distance from her home and involved travelling she could do without. Perhaps Kenton had a point. Problem was, Rachel enjoyed working with her team and would be loath to leave them.
An hour later, Rachel pulled into the lane where she lived. It quiet, remote, the semi-detached cottages and a farmhouse were the only properties at this end, and the only one with its lights blazing was hers.
Alan was out in his drive sweeping up leaves. He waved. “I’ve sold it!” he shouted. “The ‘For Sale’ sign didn’t even go up. One day on the agent’s books and it was gone. Apparently the buyer is more than keen, jumped in straight away.”
“Well done. Do you have a name for my new neighbour?”
“Not yet, but he’s paying cash and isn’t bothered about a survey, which is great news given the state of the roof.”
“Lucky you. Get your asking price?”
“Yes, so we’ve put a deposit down on the one in Bollington. Even if my eager buyer pulls out, we can afford it between us. Don’t want to miss it, you see. We’ll move into Belinda’s farm while we wait for our new one.”
“Me and the girls will miss you,” Rachel said. “It’s a big change for all of us.”
“I’ll be close enough. You need me, just ring.”
Rachel knew Alan meant what he said. He’d never faltered in taking responsibility for the girls. She knew how devastated he’d be if it came out that Mia was Jed’s and not his. But how long could it remain a secret?
Rachel went indoors. Megan was at the kitchen table working on some university stuff and she could hear Mia on her phone upstairs. There was food cooking — Alan had made pizzas. Problem was, Rachel was off her food and the thought of cheese made her heave.
“Sophie’s asked me if I want to share her flat in town,” Megan announced. “I haven’t said anything to Dad. I thought I’d run it past you first.”
Rachel was doubtful. She knew her daughter and her faults. Megan was untidy, forgetful and unused to fending for herself. “Are you sure you’d cope? She lives in a student house. There’d be no food on the table when you got home, no cleaning done, unless you do it, of course. Not to mention all the washing you generate. It doesn’t get done by magic, you know.”
“Yeah, stop stressing. I’d be fine, don’t go on, Mum. Sophie’s a good friend and we’d share the chores. What’s not to like?”
“Sharing a bathroom, having to shop and cook, not to mention the expense . . . Do I have to say more?” Rachel smiled.
“I’ve got two years to go at uni. I hate having to trudge into Manchester every day. Please say you don’t mind, Mum.”
Megan was nineteen and she didn’t need Rachel’s permission. “Perhaps I can come and have a look at the place? It’s a big step, branching out on your own.”
Megan heard the doubt in her mother’s voice. “You were living away from home at my age. How come it was okay for you but it’s not for me?”
Rachel couldn’t win this argument. Megan was right. She’d loved her parents but the minute she was able to leave home and go to university, that’s what she’d done. Then she’d met Jed McAteer and had never returned. At first, four of them had shared a flat. They’d been good days, carefree and packed with parties. Rachel could well imagine what Megan would get up to.
But Rachel didn’t want to think too deeply about all that. In the end, Megan would probably get her own way. Rachel didn’t have the energy to fight it. She was tired and all she wanted to do was get to bed. She needed all the rest she could get. Over the coming days, the case would take all her energy and some.
Chapter Fourteen
Thursday
Amy had looked at the information Mathew Shawcross had given them on the mill tenants and updated it with any changes of address and what they were up to these days.
“As you will see, ma’am, all are working except Andy Siddall. Siddall is registered as disabled due to his hand injury. He was a one-man business but for a while he did employ a man called Gavin Wellburn. We know that from the PAYE records he filed.”
Was that the Gav who’d owned the jacket? Scanning the incident board, she could see that Elwyn had already noted that Siddall had said he didn’t recognise the name. Rachel wondered why he didn’t mention that he’d employed a Gavin. “Do we know what Wellburn did after the job with Siddall finished?”
“No, ma’am. Try as I might, I can’t find a single trace of Gavin Wellburn since that time,” Amy said. “But I did find his wife. I spoke to her on the phone and asked if we could speak to him. She told me he was missing, but she’s not reported it to us and was cagey about why she hadn’t.”
“That isn’t good enough. We’ll speak to her again. He was her husband — she must know what happened, why he took off like that. Given his name and that jacket, he could well be our victim. Let’s hope his wife decides to be more helpful when two coppers turn up on her doorstep.” She turned to Jonny. “Ask around and find out what you can about the drug dealing that’s allegedly going on at the mill. See if you can determine how long it’s been a problem. The victim could have fallen foul of those involved. Try to get the name of the main man.” She turned back to Amy. “Jude is examining the remnants of some banknotes found in the victim’s mouth. If she comes up with any serial numbers, get on to the bank.”
Rachel made some notes on the board about the latest findings. “Keep me informed about anything you get. Okay, Elwyn, I’ll get my jacket, then we’ll go.”
On the way down the stairs, Elwyn said, “Given what Amy has discovered, it’s highly likely that it is Wellburn in the mill, so why didn’t his wife report him missing?”
“Knows he’s dead, or believes he’s still alive somewhere? Doesn’t care? Who knows? But one way or another, we want the truth. Time is running out on this, Elwyn. Kenton, remember?”
“She lives in Clayton, not far. I’ll drive. You look knackered already,” Elwyn said.
“I’m permanently knackered these days. But I do have a lot to think about. Alan’s sold the house — cash buyer, looking for a quick sale. If all goes well and there are no legal hiccups, I’ll have a new neighbour before long. Hope they’re easy-going. They’ll need to be, living next door to us lot.”
“He’s lucky. The market’s quiet at the moment. Tell me about the banknotes in the poor victim’s mouth.”
“They were only fragments, but Jude might get something. She reckons a bunch of them were scrunched up and shoved in.” Rachel went quiet for a moment. “What does that say to you, Elwyn?”
“Not sure. An argument among thieves perhaps? One of the gang try
ing to make off with more than his share?”
“That’s what I thought. I’ve also been wondering if it could have something to do with the drug-dealing we’ve heard about.”
“Let’s see what Mrs Wellburn has to say. Our first task is to identify the victim.”
* * *
The Wellburns lived in a backstreet of terraced houses in Clayton. Elwyn pulled up outside. “You up for this? You look a bit grey.”
“Let’s just get on with it,” Rachel said wearily. “I might look like crap, but I feel okay.”
“That’s not what I said. I’m concerned, that’s all, Rachel. Anything happens to you or the infant, and your secret’s out.”
“I am looking after myself, eating regularly and all that. Stop being such an old woman and let’s get this done.”
Hazel Wellburn answered the door and eyed her visitors with suspicion. “I had a call earlier. You’re here about our Gav? What d’you want him for?”
“Is he here?” asked Elwyn
“No, like I told the other one, he’s missing. What’s he done to bring you lot to my door?”
“Can we come in, Mrs Wellburn?”
She looked warily up and down the street. “No, you can stop out there. It doesn’t do to have coppers in the house round here.”
“When did you last see Gavin?” Rachel asked her.
“Okay, what’s the use, I’m sick of covering his back. Not recently. He’s working in Blackpool, so it’s been a while. He can’t just get time off.”
She was being evasive, and Rachel was becoming annoyed. “When exactly, Mrs Wellburn? Last week? Last month? Have you spoken to him on the phone, perhaps?”
“Look, what’s all this about? Why don’t you lot leave Gav alone? You must have more important stuff to deal with.”
Rachel showed the woman the image of the leather jacket on her phone. “Do you recognise this, Mrs Wellburn?”
She nodded. “Course I do, it’s Gav’s jacket. He had it made by that bloke that worked with leather, he had a unit in a mill in Ancoats.”
“Shawcross Mill,” Elwyn said.
“Gav used to be a mechanic. He did a couple of private jobs for the leather man, and in return he made him that. Personally, I’d have preferred the money. Bloody jackets don’t pay the lecky bill.”
“Did Gavin work at the mill?” Rachel asked.
“For a while, at Andy’s Autos, but they fell out. Don’t know what about, so don’t ask.”
Elwyn made a note. They now had another link between ‘Gav’ and the mill. “What did he do after he left the mill?”
“He got a job with a betting shop in Salford.”
“But now he’s working away?” Elwyn asked.
She shrugged. “His choice.”
“We’ve found a body, Mrs Wellburn,” Rachel told her. “In Shawcross Mill. This jacket was with it.”
The woman fell silent. After a while, she said, “You think Gav is dead? He can’t be.”
“We don’t know. It would help if you could recall when you last spoke to him.”
She looked at Rachel and shook her head. “Truth is, we’ve split. A divorce costs money we don’t have. It’s better for us both this way. The job in Blackpool came up and Gav jumped at it. He saw it as a chance to get away for a bit, give us both a chance to think about things.”
“When was this?” asked Elwyn.
“Not sure.”
“Think, Mrs Wellburn. This is important.”
“About three years ago.”
Rachel found it incredible that this woman had watched her husband walk away and not tried to make contact. “And you haven’t heard from him since?”
“I’ve had a couple of postcards. He said he’s doing well.”
Postcards? That didn’t sound right. Why not just text or phone? “Do you still have them?”
“No, I binned them. One came about a year after he left and another a few months later.” She looked from one detective to the other. “Gav left me. He was probably shacked up with another woman when he sent them — guilty conscience.”
Ignoring this, Rachel asked, “How old was Gavin when he left you?”
“Thirty-four.”
“Do you have a photo of him we could take?”
She went inside and came back carrying a photo frame. “Me and him at a wedding a few weeks before he did one.”
Gavin Wellburn had been tall and well built, with blonde hair. “Do you recall the date you saw Gavin for the last time?” Rachel asked.
“No. I got back from work three years ago and he’d packed his stuff and left. He rang me that night, said he wasn’t coming back and that he’d be in touch when he got settled.”
“And you accepted that?” Rachel asked.
“We were finished. Why wouldn’t I?”
“Did Gav know anyone else at the mill?” Elwyn asked.
“He drank with the mechanic, Andy. They were big mates until they fell out. You should ask him when he last heard from Gav.”
Chapter Fifteen
Rachel looked at the photo. “This might help, I suppose. Who knows?”
“Jude’s good but the remains are virtually a skeleton,” Elwyn reminded her. “They bear no resemblance to the bloke in that photo.”
“We need another word with Andy Siddall. Ring the station, Elwyn, and have him brought in.”
They drove back in silence. Rachel was trying to work out what might have happened. The mill had been a busy place, people from those units no doubt went to the Spinners Arms across the road. They would all have known each other. Siddall hadn’t admitted to knowing Wellburn. Why was that? He must have drunk in the Spinners Arms with the others. And what about Rita Pearce? “While uniform find Siddall, we’ll go and speak to Rita again. Siddall knew Gavin Wellburn — I’d like to know what he and Rita discussed that time she reckoned she didn’t visit him.”
“She maintained she didn’t know Siddall lived there and was visiting a friend. Proving otherwise could be tricky. Let’s see what Siddall tells us first.”
Elwyn was right. Go charging in and Rita Pearce would clam up. Rachel had seen the woman, she was afraid of something, or someone, and whatever it was meant she didn’t want to speak to the police. But it was niggling at her.
At least it looked like they now had a name for their victim.
* * *
Rachel was at her desk checking her inbox when Jonny came in.
“An informant of mine has given me some useful info, ma’am. He maintains that the dealer at the mill is a bloke called Billy Sherwin,” Jonny said.
“Is he on the system?” Rachel asked.
Jonny shook his head.
“No record, then. See what else you can discover. And keep me posted.”
“Siddall is in interview room two,” Elwyn said as Jonny left. “He doesn’t look happy.”
Rachel got to her feet. “Let’s see what he has to say for himself. Jonny’s got a lead on a possible dealer. Does the name Billy Sherwin mean anything to you?”
Elwyn shrugged. “No, but all that means is if he is dealing, he’s been clever enough to keep his nose clean.”
“Difficult if the operation is as big as Healey suggested. We should speak to him too — see how he reacts to the name. If we keep the pressure on, he might talk to us.”
“You think the victim fell foul of the dealing operation?” he asked.
“At the moment it’s all we’ve got, Elwyn.”
Chapter Sixteen
The moment they entered the room, an irritable-sounding Siddall began. “You’re wasting your time and mine. I’ve already told you everything I know.”
“Not quite,” Rachel said. “Tell us about your relationship with Rita Pearce.”
“Nothing to tell.”
“I don’t believe that, Andy. We spoke to the pair of you separately yesterday and it can’t have taken you long to swap notes. Rita visited you. What did she want?”
His face reddened and he glared a
t Rachel angrily. “Leave Rita alone. She’s done nothing wrong. She’s confused and worried about what’s happened, that’s all.”
“At the first sign of the police, she runs to you. Why is that? Are you two close?”
“I know Rita, course I do,” he said. “Most of us from the units used to drink in the Spinners Arms a lot. Rita is a laugh — we all like her. You’ve been there, you’ll have met her husband. The man’s a bully, he makes her life a misery and that little witch of a daughter doesn’t help. Rita doesn’t do as she’s told, and she gets a beating. Have you seen her face recently? I’ve tried to help her in the past, but in truth I only made things worse, so I backed off. That’s why we keep our friendship a secret. If Ray finds out you’re interested in Rita, he’ll kill her.”
Without comment, Rachel put the photo of Gavin Wellburn on the table. “What happened to him? His wife told us one version earlier today. What’s yours?”
Siddall picked it up and smiled. “You know the truth, then? Okay, I admit I employed Gav briefly, but it didn’t work out. This was taken about four years ago. You can see the mill in the background. Is it Gav you’ve found? Poor sod.”
“We’re still not sure,” said Rachel. “Now you admit that you did know Wellburn, but when we first spoke you said you didn’t. Why lie to us, Andy?”
“Because the body you found might not be Gav, you could still be wrong, and I don’t want to say anything that’ll stop you finding out the truth.”
“Rubbish! What are you afraid of?”
“Nothing. If I could tell you anything helpful, I would.”
“Suppose for a moment we go with the body being Gavin Wellburn. Do you know why anyone would want to murder him?” Rachel stared at him.
“No, he was a good bloke.”
“Do you know of anything about Gavin that would help us to identify him? I’m talking broken bones, dentistry, anything.”
Siddall stared at her blankly and then it clicked. “He’s too far gone to recognise, isn’t he? All you’ve got is a load of bones and that bloody jacket.”
FORGOTTEN VICTIM an absolutely gripping crime mystery with a massive twist (Detective Rachel King Thrillers Book 4) Page 6
