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FORGOTTEN VICTIM an absolutely gripping crime mystery with a massive twist (Detective Rachel King Thrillers Book 4)

Page 11

by HELEN H. DURRANT

“Well, it’s certainly interesting, not that it makes much sense,” said Rachel.

  “The flotsam of many years finding its way down from above,” Jason said. “Although I haven’t found where it could have got in.”

  “If it was down to littering, you’d expect to see more stuff lying about, but there’s nothing. In fact, once inside, beyond where the body was found, the tunnel is pretty clear,” said Elwyn.

  “It is now,” Jason said. “But there is evidence that it was flooded and silted up at one time. Perhaps someone cleaned it up.”

  He was smiling, but that was a distinct possibility if the tunnel had been used to get in and out of the mill. It needed some thought. The Tiffany box could be important but then again, its presence down here might mean nothing at all.

  “Thanks, Jason. Anything else, let me know,” Rachel said.

  Her head was buzzing with possibilities. Perhaps people had had access to that tunnel in the more recent past and, like Jason had said, used it as a shortcut. But where to and for what reason? “Is there any chance of finding out where it leads to?” she asked. “It might be important.”

  “Okay, I’ll make it a priority, but it could take time. We have no idea what we’ll find as we get further in.”

  She and Elwyn climbed back up the stairs.

  “What went on down there, Elwyn? Any suggestions? I know shopping trolleys turn up everywhere, in the canal and the like, but inside that tunnel? It doesn’t seem possible.”

  “We know Sherwin uses the mill for his dealing. The items could have come from that. Perhaps he used the tunnel as a way of getting in and out of the mill without being seen. The trolleys could have been used to shift the gear.”

  “You’re forgetting one thing.” She nudged him. “The tunnel wasn’t accessible — those lads fell through the wooden floorboards.”

  “Sherwin could have got in from the other end and hidden the gear this end,” Elwyn suggested.

  “We’ll ask him, but first we’ll talk to Millie Shawcross.”

  * * *

  Millie Shawcross lived in a flat in Heaton Norris, on the outskirts of Stockport. “According to Stella’s research she shares the flat with a girlfriend,” Elwyn said.

  “Do we know if she’s working?” Rachel asked.

  “She helps her father manage Shawcross Estates, but it’s the weekend so she should be at home,” Elwyn said.

  “She knows Jonny from university,” Rachel told him. “Millie recognised him when we were at the house. But she was calling herself Millie Fenwick when he knew her. It was her mother’s maiden name, apparently. I keep wondering why.”

  “Could be any reason,” Elwyn said. “Perhaps Millie and her dad fell out about something. It was a nasty divorce. It was all in the papers at the time. His ex-wife took him to the cleaners.”

  “Do we know what broke them up?”

  “No, and Stella can’t find anything either. His ex now lives in South Manchester somewhere. But whatever the reason, Millie took her mother’s side and changed her name. Obviously, she no longer wanted to be associated with the Shawcross family.”

  “Changed her mind since, though, hasn’t she? She’s working for her dad and they seem pretty close. No doubt she’s set to inherit the lot one day.”

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Millie Shawcross recognised Rachel at once. “If this is Shawcross business you should speak to my dad,” she told them. “I deal with the office stuff, so if it’s about the mill I won’t be much help.” She led them into a large sitting room overlooking the back garden. “It’s a great place, isn’t it? Me and Janey have the entire ground floor. Rent’s not bad either.”

  “Better than the Shawcross mansion?” Rachel asked. “You had all the space in the world there, and no doubt lived rent free.”

  “That’s my business,” Millie said. “But if you must know, it was hard living with my dad. He didn’t give me any freedom and he watched my every move. I felt like a prisoner.”

  In a way, Rachel could understand his concern, particularly if Millie was mixing with the likes of Sherwin. His daughter was all Mathew Shawcross had left. He would be desperate to keep her safe. But on the other hand, he’d lost his wife for the very same reason.

  Rachel got straight to the point. “Do you know Billie Sherwin?”

  Millie looked from one detective to the other. Finally, she nodded. She looked nervous, unsure of what to say. She obviously knew it was a tricky question and was probably wondering how to respond.

  “Yes,” she admitted at last. He lives somewhere near the mill. Drinks at a bar in town — that’s where I met him.”

  “Billy is in custody for a serious offence,” Elwyn told her. “He’s given you as an alibi. We admit to being confused, Millie. Sherwin has a reputation. He is implicated in drug dealing that was going on at the mill.”

  Millie turned aside, chewing on her bottom lip. “That has to be wrong. You’ve got him confused with someone else. It can’t be Billy because I see him quite a lot around town. Like I said, we frequent the same bar and mix with the same crowd.”

  “What were you doing on Thursday night?” Rachel asked.

  “The usual, drinking in the bars around Oxford Road,” she said. “And before you ask, yes, Billy was with us. Me, Janey, Billy and some others. We were bar hopping and then we went to eat at a curry house in Fallowfield.”

  “What times, exactly?” asked Elwyn.

  “From about six until just before midnight. I remember because me and Janey got the last bus home.”

  Millie Shawcross had tried to sound convincing, but Rachel was suspicious. The young woman was twitchy, nervous. She couldn’t stand still for a start but kept pacing the floor. There was something wrong. She was lying. Jonny had been sure he’d heard Jasmine Pearce call Billy’s name and Rachel had complete faith in the young DC. Now she was puzzled. Why would the young woman stand up for Sherwin like this?

  “Does Billy often go out with you and your friends?” Rachel asked.

  “Yes, most nights. There’s a group of us. He stays here sometimes too. He’s between places currently and relies on his friends for a place to sleep.”

  Elwyn shook his head. “That’s not the Billy Sherwin we know. We’ve been told he’s a drug dealer who ropes in young kids to do his dirty work for him.”

  Millie laughed. “Never in a million years! Not Beef! He’s far too soft. Big as he is, he would never mix with the sort of people you meet dealing. I don’t know who’s been feeding you this rubbish, but it’s wrong.”

  “It was one of my own officers witnessed the incident on Thursday night,” Rachel said. “Don’t lie to me, Millie. I will get the truth and I won’t take kindly to you lying to us.”

  “Billy’s okay. You can take my word for it.”

  “What’s his relationship with Jasmine Pearce?” Elwyn asked.

  “Friends, I expect. Beef is friends with everyone around where she lives.”

  “He rarely sets foot in the Spinners Arms, which Jasmine lives above. How do you square that one?”

  “Bad pint? Had words with that idiot landlord, her father? Who knows? Why not just ask him?”

  Millie had her back to them and was staring out of the window at the garden. Rachel put a hand on her shoulder. “Why are you protecting him, Millie? Does he have some sort of hold over you? If he does, we can help.” It was the only thing Rachel could think of. “I’ve interviewed Sherwin. He’s nasty, brutal, the last person I’d imagine you’d be involved with.”

  Millie shrugged her hand away. “You people think you’re clever but you’re not. Far from it. You’re stupid, all of you. You know nothing about Beef, the mill or anything else. Get out and leave me alone. I’m not saying anything else.”

  Millie went silent. For some reason she was shielding Sherwin, and no amount of reasoning with her was going to change her mind.

  Outside on the street, Rachel looked up at the house. “She’s lying, Elwyn. Millie Shawcross is like the re
st of them, holding something back. What, I can only guess at, but my instincts tell me there’s some secret involving that mill, something bad, and that’s why no one will say anything.”

  Elwyn nodded. “I’ll see if I can find anything that links Sherwin with the Shawcross family. You never know.”

  “In the meantime, much as it grates, we’ll have to let him go. Sherwin’s alibi holds up,” Rachel said. She cursed softly under her breath. “I hate days like this, Elwyn. Everything goes wrong and we go around and around in circles.”

  While they were on their way back to the station, Rachel’s mobile rang, a number she didn’t recognise.

  She heard a woman’s voice. “Hello, DCI King. I’m DCI Nell Hennessey from Tameside Serious Crime Squad. We haven’t met before, but I wonder if you’ve got time for a quick word.”

  Rachel didn’t recognise the name and as far as she was aware, East Manchester had no current dealings with Tameside. “I’m in the middle of a tricky case at the moment. Can it wait a few days?”

  “Fair enough. Bad habit of mine, dropping stuff on people. How about I come to your station on Monday next week?”

  “Fine. Are you going to give me a clue as to what this is about?”

  “I’d rather wait until we meet, Rachel, if that’s okay.”

  “Can’t say I’m not curious, but I’ll have to contain myself, I guess. See you Monday. Shall we say about lunchtime? We could go and get something to eat.”

  “Good idea. My shout.”

  Call ended, Rachel turned to Elwyn. “That was a strange one. What d’you reckon a DCI from Tameside wants with me? She’s coming over for lunch next Monday.”

  “Advice, information, could be anything,” Elwyn said.

  “Everything work-related is on the system. All she has to do is look it up.”

  “No need to stress, Rachel, you’ll find out soon enough. You’ve got quite enough going on at the moment.”

  He was right — the case for one, and then there was the tricky problem of her personal life. But at least she now knew what to do about the baby. She smiled to herself, hugging her belly. A boy would be nice, for a change.

  Chapter Thirty

  Billy Sherwin was marched into the interview room flanked by two uniformed officers. He didn’t look happy.

  “Bloody cells aren’t made for a bloke my size. Bed was too small, didn’t sleep a wink, and the food’s crap,” Sherwin said.

  “Tell me about your relationship with Millie Shawcross,” Rachel said.

  “Nowt much to tell. She’s a mate, I hang around with her and some others.”

  “You’re lying, Billie,” Rachel said. “She’s not your mate. I mean, why would a girl like her bother with the likes of you?”

  “Mate or not, she’s given me an alibi.” He smiled smugly. “So, give me the good news. Tell me I can go.”

  Rachel gritted her teeth. This was all wrong, but regulations were regulations. What else could she do? She nodded at the uniforms. “He’s free to go. Take him to the front desk and make sure he gets all his belongings.”

  Once Sherwin was out of the room, Rachel banged her fist on the table. “Millie’s not stupid, she must know he’s an evil bastard! But why is she lying to us? What hold does he have over her? There has to be something, Elwyn.”

  “Something big, otherwise why not speak out against him? But think, Rachel. The dealing is one thing, but is he our killer?” Elwyn said.

  “Something happened in that mill three years ago, and it involved Wellburn, Sherwin, possibly Siddall and Rita’s husband. That’s why none of them will speak to us, they’re all covering for each other.”

  “Nice theory, but that’s all it is, Rachel. And unless one of them speaks to us, that’s the way it will stay.”

  “Okay, who’s the weak link? Which one of them will crack first and help us, Elwyn? My money is on Rita Pearce.”

  “I think you’re right. It would help to know who they’re all so scared of. We’ve met a wall of silence since the beginning and that’s not natural. We get vague answers to our questions, no one remembers anything . . . Rita Pearce runs the boozer on that street, for pity’s sake, she must know more than she’s told us.”

  “Sherwin,” Rachel stated. “Stands to reason, the man’s a thug. Given what happened to Siddall, she might be willing to talk now. We’ll interview her again, but first let’s get an up-to-date prognosis on Siddall.”

  * * *

  Elwyn phoned the hospital and it was good news. Andy Siddall had been brought out of the induced coma. He was doing well and was out of danger. Elwyn left word that they would be round to interview him later in the day. With luck, he’d be able to identify his assailant and get them a step nearer to solving this case.

  “Stella,” he said, sitting down beside her. “I want you to do something for me, but quietly. Don’t let the boss know.”

  She smiled. “You’ve got me curious.”

  “Get hold of the CCTV from Deansgate for last night, say nine thirty to ten. Particularly around the Imperial restaurant.”

  “What am I looking for?” she asked.

  “Rachel. She was there last night, and a young man stopped her outside on the pavement. He spoke to her for several minutes, so the camera should have picked them up.”

  “You’re after an identity for him?”

  “If possible. Rachel didn’t know who he was.”

  Stella nodded. “If I get anything, I’ll text you the clip.”

  Rachel had enough on her plate without any added worry. A little research on her behalf would do no harm. Elwyn knew that Rachel’s parents had died five years ago, not long after she’d divorced Alan. A quick search and he found the record on the system. It appeared to be straightforward enough — a wet night, poor visibility, and a camera they’d passed a couple of miles before the accident had them speeding. It was presumed that Rachel’s father had lost control on a sharp bend and run full speed into a small wooded area at the side of the road. The report said there was no CCTV where the accident happened. The road was rural, but busy. All they had to go on was footage from the camera that had caught them speeding. Later, when he had time, he’d take a closer look at that.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Andy Siddall lay propped up on pillows with an oxygen mask on his face. Rachel and Elwyn entered the room and sat down by the bed.

  He’d been battered about the head. His eyes were black and he had a gash down his right cheek. “You’re a lucky man,” Rachel said. “The person who did this left you for dead. Who was it, Andy? Who have you upset so badly that they did this you? You must have seen him.”

  Siddall shook his head and pulled away the mask so he could speak. “Yes, I saw him,” he croaked, “but I’ve no idea who he was.”

  Beaten and shot, left for dead and he still wouldn’t speak. What was wrong with these people? “A description, then. Was he young? Tall? How was he dressed?” Rachel asked.

  Siddall turned pale. Was the memory too fresh? Too much too soon? Should they be pushing him like this when he’d taken a knock to the head and lost a lot of blood? Rachel was frustrated but she’d have to back off.

  “Are you up to telling us what happened?” Elwyn asked gently, catching Rachel’s eye. “We want to apprehend whoever did this to you, but we can’t do that without your help.”

  Elwyn was trying the softer approach. Rachel hoped it would work.

  Siddall nodded. “He surprised me. The doorbell rang. The dog went wild, barking his head off, so I put him outside in the back yard before I went to see who it was. I only opened the door a touch, but the bloke barged in and started lashing out. I didn’t see much of him, only his shape and clothing. He was dressed in black with a balaclava pulled down over his face. He followed me into the kitchen and started shooting. He chased me all around the bloody house, lashing out with that gun of his. He caught my face with the butt, hence the cut. I might have got out, but I tripped over a mat in the hall. I was lying flat out
on my belly when he shot me. I was terrified, thought I might die. I’d no idea how bad it was. That’s about it. That’s all I can remember.”

  “Did no one come to help you, a neighbour, perhaps?”

  “The gun had a silencer, I doubt they heard.”

  “You’ve done pretty well,” Elwyn said. “Were you unconscious?”

  “I think so. When I fell in the hall, I knocked my head on the old sideboard I keep in there. But I came to pretty quick. I knew my mobile was in the kitchen, so I dragged myself in there to get a hold of it and call for help. I think that’s when I passed out again.”

  “Did you notice a car on the street?” Rachel asked.

  “Couldn’t say. The neighbours might have seen something, but after I was shot, he legged it out the door. Once I got to the kitchen, I couldn’t move again. I think I must have been bleeding out.”

  “Rita saved your life. You’re lucky she turned up when she did. She gave you first aid and then rang for an ambulance. Did you know she was coming?” Rachel asked.

  He looked at them rather sheepishly. “No, but she visits sometimes when she wants to talk. Me and Rita — it’s not what you think. She did have someone once, apart from Ray. They were very fond of each other and would have made a go of it if things had been different. He was the one man she’d have risked leaving that brute for.”

  “Can you give me a name?” Rachel asked.

  “No, I can’t, but it’s not me. I’m there for her because she needs someone in her corner. Poor woman gets nowt but abuse from that husband of hers, and her daughter isn’t much help. Whenever Rita gets down, needs a shoulder, you know, she comes to me.”

  “Does her husband know about your relationship?” Rachel asked.

  “No, I don’t think so. What are you getting at?”

  “That it might’ve been him who attacked you. Ray Pearce is a jealous bully. He wouldn’t take kindly to anyone seeing his wife on a regular basis.”

  “It wasn’t him. Too nimble on his feet,” Andy said. “Ray’s got dodgy knees.”

  “Well, whoever did this to you might try again. He’ll know pretty soon that you’re still alive. That bullet was meant to kill you. It wasn’t just a warning,” Rachel said. “Can you think of a reason why anyone would want you dead, Andy? We need the truth. We keep asking questions but get nowhere. No one will speak to us, and we can’t work out what they’re all so scared of.”

 

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