Desolate Sands Crime Book 5 (Detective Alec Ramsay Crime Mystery Suspense Series)

by Conrad Jones

  “Were you involved in selling the gear too, Gary?” John glared at the fat youth.

  “It was just a bit of crack, John,” Gary muttered. “We never touched your stuff.”

  “You were dealing behind my back.”

  “Sorry, John,” Gary’s bottom lip quivered.

  “Are you?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “I think you’re sorry because you got caught.” John pointed his finger at both of them. “If this idiot hadn’t dumped a dead body in a puddle where everyone could see it, then you’d still be skimming a grand a week from me.”

  “We just needed a bit of extra cash, John,” Gary explained nervously.

  “What for?” John snapped. “A new tracksuit, or to put a boom-box and a chrome exhaust on your Clio?”

  “I sold the Clio, John.”

  “What?”

  “I sold the Clio last week,” Gary said oblivious to his employer’s mood. “I bought a Focus turbo. I got a great deal on it.”

  “Shut up!” John shouted. He looked at a gorilla in a Calvin Klein suit. “Shut that stupid fucker up before I shut him up for good.” The gorilla walked across the marble tiles and towered above Gary. He didn’t say anything to him; he didn’t need to. His sheer bulk looming over him had frightened him into silence. Gary stared at his trainers and tucked his sweaty hands into his tracksuit pockets.

  “I’ll ask you again,” John turned to his stepson. “Where is she?”

  “What is your problem?” Bren whined. “You don’t give me credit for anything I do. You were banging my mum and sunning yourself by the pool in Spain while it was all going Pete Tong here!” His stepfather’s face darkened with anger. Nobody raised their voice to John Ryder. He knew that he was stepping over the mark.

  “Don’t you ever talk about your mother like that again.”

  “Sorry.”

  “In front of my men?” John said almost in a whisper. His eyes narrowed. “You dare to disrespect your mother in front of my men?”

  “I said I’m sorry.”

  “You will be,” John nodded. “I can’t believe the mess you’ve made, retard.”

  “I had no choice but to sort them out. Did I, Geoff?”

  All eyes turned to a slightly built man who was looking out of the window, his back turned to the gathering. Geoff looked out over the river. The ferries were crossing at the middle point of the river and the passengers of both waved to each other like long lost friends and a huge cruise ship sat regally as its cargo of tourists disembarked onto the Pierhead. “I told you to leave well alone until John got back off holiday.” Geoff turned to face them. His tanned features were creased by five decades of crime and his grey Armani suit hung open over a crisp white shirt. A gold chain shimmered where a tie might sit. The stylish look was in keeping with the other older men, who looked on anxiously. Bren and Gary looked scruffy amongst them. “In fact, we all told you to leave Keegan and the woman alone, but you ignored our advice. Gary was warned too.”

  “It wasn’t you lot that the police were following, was it?” Bren protested. “That bitch was going to go to the police with what she knew about Keegan and that would have led back to us.”

  “All the more reason to lie low, you fool,” Geoff growled. His dark eyes burrowed into him. “Now it’s just a matter of time before they come knocking on our door.”

  “You still haven’t answered my question,” John interrupted. “Where is Lacey Taylor?”

  Gary and Bren swapped nervous glances but neither spoke. Bren sighed and stood up. “I buried her myself. She’s further down the beach. A lot further down.”

  “At Crosby?” John snapped, his eyes widening. “Right near Keegan’s body? Under the noses of the police sniffer dogs?”

  “About a mile into the dunes,” Bren muttered. “It was dark and pissing down with rain. She was heavy but she’s far enough away for them not to find her.”

  “So she’s buried a stone’s throw away from where the police are searching?”

  “A stone’s throw?” Bren snapped. “She’s a mile away at least!”

  “In an area where the police have dogs searching?” John had a look of disdain on his face. “You retard.”

  “Don’t call me that. They won’t look that far away,” Bren said defiantly. “It was just unlucky that they found a dead body near the pond.”

  “Bullshit!” John shouted. “My source at Canning Place tells me that they went there to search on the back of a tip-off”

  “What tip-off?” Bren protested.

  “You tell me, you retard,” John snapped and pointed his finger at Bren. “What could possibly have alerted the MIT to search there?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You made a mistake,” his father said calmly. “What was it?”

  “I don’t know,” Bren looked at Gary for help but he was still enthralled by his training shoes desperately trying to avoid making eye contact with John Ryder. “Can you think of anything, Gary?”

  “No,” he muttered. His voice trembled. “We even went back in the daylight to make sure we hadn’t left anything behind.”

  “And?”

  “Nothing.”

  “So you went back and checked that nothing was obviously amiss?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then what tipped the police off?”

  “Nothing, John honestly,” Gary rambled. “I must have dropped the dog’s collar cause we found that near the pond but we made it right and dumped it, didn’t we, Bren. So it can’t have been that.”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Bren whispered. “I told you to shut your mouth.”

  “You found what dog’s collar?” John’s eyes narrowed. The tension in the room was palpable.

  “The bitch had a dog,” Bren muttered. “We must have dropped the collar when we carried her through the dunes.”

  “And you recovered it the next day?”

  “Yes. Gary picked it up in the dunes then we went back to the pond. We checked that Keegan’s body was weighted properly. It was. There was no sign of anything untoward.”

  “Where did you dump the collar?”

  “In a litter bin,” Gary announced proudly. The looks he received from the others silenced him quickly. “I made sure it was underneath all the crap, honestly.”

  “Please tell me that you didn’t dump it in a bin near the pond.” John Ryder stood up angrily. He walked over to where Gary stood. “Look me in the eyes and tell me that you didn’t dump it near to the pond.”

  “I didn’t know, Dad,” Bren stuttered. “I didn’t know he’d dumped it there until we were ten miles down the road.”

  “Did it have a tag on it?”

  “What?”

  “Was it engraved with her name and address?”

  “I don’t know,” Gary mumbled. “There was some writing on it but I can’t read.”

  “Did you go back when you realised what he had done?” John turned to his stepson.

  “Yes.”

  “And?”

  “It was gone.”

  John Ryder slapped Bren hard with an open hand. His face darkened where the blow struck, a bruise formed immediately. “You bloody idiot. That’s how the police were tipped off. Someone found the collar and took it to the police.”

  “I didn’t know until it was too late.” Bren whimpered. “It was him. He fucked it up. Like I said, we were miles down the road when I asked him what he had done with it. We went straight back.”

  “This is a mess.” John Ryder shook his head. “Your mother will crucify me if you end up in clink. They will connect the collar with Taylor and they may have a witness to connect you to the collar.”

  “Wait a minute. Let’s calm down. The only evidence which puts them at the scene is the collar,” Geoff spoke clearly. “We have to assume that whoever took it to the police can place them at the scene. Find them and there’s no credible evidence to link them to the murder of Keegan, apart from each other.”

  “As
suming that they don’t find Lacey Taylor,” John added.

  “Of course. The only other person who can put Bren at the scene is Gary,” Geoff pointed to him. He gestured with his head and two of the onlookers moved towards him. One stood behind him the other stood at his side. “Gary is the only witness.”

  “I won’t say anything, John!” Gary panicked. “I swear to God that I won’t say anything. Bren is my mate.”

  “Have you talked to anybody about this?”

  “No!”

  “You haven’t told anyone else about any of this?”

  “No, honestly.” Gary protested. “I wouldn’t say anything!”

  “Sorry, Gary but we don’t do mistakes.” John shook his head. “You’ve left me with no choice.”

  “I promise, John!” His plea was cut short by a thick forearm which encircled his throat from behind. The pressure on his larynx was unbearable and it was all he could do to gasp before his windpipe was crushed. He felt himself lifted from the floor and his head was jerked sharply to the left. His feet danced in the air for a second. There was a brief flash of red hot pain at the base of his skull as he felt his neck snap and then there was nothing.

  “Get rid of him,” Geoff ordered. The limp body was carried from the room into a wide hallway while arrangements for its disposal were made. “Now then, Bren, you need to remember everything that you can about Crosby Beach. We need to find out who saw you there and you will tell me the exact spot where Lacey Taylor is buried. Understand?”

  Brendon Ryder nodded as he watched his best friend being dragged across a blue Wilton carpet and his legs began to tremble. He knew that the only reason he was alive was because his stepfather saw fit to let him live, but there was no guarantee that he would maintain that point of view for the foreseeable future.

  Chapter 13

  “Hello, Janice, thanks for coming to talk to us. I’m Detective Inspector Annie Jones,” she said, holding out her right hand. Janice shook her hand feebly, uncomfortable at being in close proximity of the law, especially another female. It never bothered her that the male officers knew that she was a brass but it mattered when they were female. “The Vice Squad is helping us to look for missing women and they said that one of your friends hasn’t been seen for a few days,” Annie said, noting that they were in the same interview room where Richard Tibbs had sat. “There’s no need to be nervous. We just need you to tell us what you told Vice today.”

  “Is Tasha in danger?”

  “Yes, she is,” Annie nodded. “Do you know her surname?”

  “No,” Janice blushed. “It’s not something we do out there, swap names, I mean.”

  “I understand. We’ve found the bodies of several women buried on Crosby Beach and we think they may be working girls.”

  “Like Tasha?”

  “Exactly like Tasha.”

  “Oh God,” Janice sighed. “Is she one of them?”

  “No,” Stirling answered. “All the bodies that we have found have been there too long, but that doesn’t mean that she’s not in trouble.”

  “You said Tasha went missing the night before last.” Annie checked the statement. “Tuesday night, right?”

  “Right,” Janice nodded. “I haven’t seen her since and neither have the other girls. We knocked on her flat too. She wasn’t in. She never goes anywhere, so I knew that she had been taken.”

  “Vice forced the door of her flat an hour ago,” Stirling said solemnly. “There’s no sign of her.”

  “What can you tell us about that night?” Annie asked.

  “I knew he wasn’t right,” Janice said quietly. “I should never have let her go with him.”

  “With who?”

  “The bloke I told the coppers about.” Janice looked from Annie to Stirling for their reaction. “The bloke with the bug eyes, in the white van.”

  “Tell me about him.”

  “When I first saw him, he had sunglasses on and a black beanie hat,” Janice recalled. “He took the glasses off and those eyes!”

  “You said they bulged,” Annie asked confused.

  “Yes. Almost like a cartoon.”

  “And he was white?”

  “Yes.” She thought about it. “Maybe olive skinned.

  “About thirty, you said?”

  “I’m guessing, but yes.”

  “You’ve never seen him before?”

  “No,” Janice shivered inside. “I would remember those eyes.”

  “You said the van was a Ford Transit?” Stirling asked.

  “Yes. A white one.”

  “They’re all white aren’t they?” Annie grinned.

  “Don’t think they make any other colour,” Janice chuckled.

  “And the detective from vice said that you can remember something about the number plate?”

  “Yes,” Janice blushed. “STD. Has a special meaning to us girls.” Annie and Stirling exchanged glances and smiled. “I can’t remember it all. I’m thick as pig shit, but I remember that much.” Janice looked sad for a moment. “I told her that just before she got into that van.”

  “What?”

  “I told her that I was thick as pig shit.”

  “You liked her?”

  “She was okay.”

  “We’ll find her if she’s out there.”

  “I hope so,” Janice smiled. “She wants to go back to nursing college.”

  Annie didn’t think that she would but there was always hope while there wasn’t a body. “Can you think of any other girls who have disappeared in the last twelve months?”

  “How long have you got?” Janice rolled her eyes skyward. “Girls come and go every week.” She shrugged and held out her hands. “One minute they’re there and the next, they’re gone. Some of them turn up and some don’t.”

  “It’s a transient workforce,” Stirling commented.

  “A what?”

  “Never mind,” Stirling muttered.

  “I told you I’m thick as pig shit.”

  “We don’t think you’re thick, Janice,” Stirling said guiltily.

  Janice eyed him but felt unsure about the sincerity in his voice. “Look, most of the girls on the game are junkies. They need money but the job isn’t for everyone. Some girls can handle it, others can’t.”

  “How do you mean?” Annie asked.

  “Well, there was a mate of mine, Alice,” Janice began. “I didn’t see her for three months and then I bumped into her in a hotel near Chester. I was working a private gig, you know, a hotel visit and there she was sitting in the restaurant with some guy old enough to be her father. She had a wedding ring on. I would have said hello but I didn’t want to drop her in it, you know.”

  “Could have been embarrassing,” Annie agreed.

  “Very,” Janice joked. “Who is your friend? Oh, we were on the game together in Liverpool!”

  “Not a good start to a new marriage.”

  “No.”

  “A happy ending for her though, eh?”

  “Not really,” Janice looked at her hands, a faraway look on her face.

  “Why don’t you think so?”

  “She is still going to bed with someone she doesn’t love and isn’t attracted to for money, no matter how you dress it up.” A narrow smile crossed her lips. “She’s still on the game and she knows it.”

  “But if you had time to think about it properly,” Stirling pushed the issue. “Do you think you could remember the names of any girls who simply vanished and no one heard from again?”

  “Maybe.”

  “We need you to try.”

  “Okay, I’ll have a think.”

  “Anything else that you can remember about that van, anything at all?” Stirling asked.

  “There was a wheel trim missing.” Janice’s eyes closed as if she was picturing the scene. She smiled widely and looked at Annie. “I think that they only make wheel trims in sets of three.”

  “You’re right,” Annie laughed. “There’s always one missing.”
/>
  “I hope that I can help you find Tasha.”

  “Good. What you have told us helps,” Annie coached. “Which trim was missing?”

  “Rear driver’s side.”

  Annie stood up from the table and smiled. “I’m going to send someone down here with descriptions of the women that we’ve found. I want you to have a good look at them and see if they ring any bells, okay?”

  “Okay,” Janice nodded. “Will it take long?”

  “Shouldn’t do why?”

  “I’m broke,” Janice shrugged her shoulders and looked at the table. “I need to get to work.”

  “Janice,” Annie frowned, “there’s a psycho out there taking women off the streets. Give it a miss for a while until we catch him.”

  “I can’t afford to,” Janice said quietly. “I don’t claim benefits. Grafting is the only income that I have.”

  “It’s dangerous,” Stirling said concerned.

  “It’s always dangerous, Sergeant,” Janice smiled. She was flattered by his concern. He was her type, big and mean. “Thanks for your concern but I need to go to work.”

  “Not today,” Annie said as she opened the door. “We’ll make sure that you get enough to cover your earnings for the next few days. We need you to look at the e-fits okay?”

  “Oh, okay.” Janice smiled widely. “Thank you!”

  “Thank you for coming in,” Stirling said. “I know how hard it is for you to talk to us.” Their eyes met and lingered for a second. Something registered. In a different time and another place, there could have been something between them. “You’ve been very helpful. Wait here.”

  Chapter 14

  Tasha looked around the cellar and tried to remain calm. Her grip on the sharp implements which she held in her hands was so tight that her knuckles were white. The floor was made of concrete. There were no trapdoors or hatches. Although the walls were plastered, behind it they were solid brick, no plasterboard or stud walling. She didn’t know much about construction but the only way to enter the room was from above. Tasha strained her neck to follow the rafters from one end of the room to the other. Sure enough, in the far right corner, the rafters were cut. There were dark hinges screwed onto the floorboards above. The hatch above was her only way out but it was also her abductor’s way in. It was too high for her to reach, even if she stood on the trolley and there was no handle to pull it down. The only way to open it was from above.