Dead Nasty

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Dead Nasty Page 7

by Helen H. Durrant


  Calladine had thought as much. He knew a man with the nickname Peachy. What he couldn’t understand was why these girls would be interested in someone like him. Peachy was a small-time drug dealer on the Hobfield. Perhaps that was it. He was their supplier.

  Calladine changed tack. “Tell us about this chat room you all use. How did you find out about it?”

  “An email I think. I can’t really remember. We all use it, the whole class. There are lots of different ones out there. But the one we use is very good. The guy who runs it is called Aiden. He answers questions about homework and stuff. He’s really cool.”

  “Where does he live?”

  “Exeter. Miles away.”

  “Is there anyone you know of who might want to do Elsa harm?” Calladine asked her.

  “Half the school at some time or other. Elsa was tough. She didn’t put up with no crap. Cross her and you got a pasting.”

  Calladine wondered if Jake Ireson knew about any of this. “How about outside school?”

  “Her brother Danny got mixed up in something a few weeks back. Elsa was really worried about him. He owed money to someone. I know he asked Peachy to help him out, but he refused. Said he was broke himself. They kept arguing and it ended up with a fight.”

  “Do you know who Danny owed money to?” Calladine said.

  Megan shook her head. “Elsa never said.”

  “You said Gaby was seen talking to her father. When was this?”

  “When she got off the bus at lunchtime today. He was waiting for her. She wasn’t happy about it, but they did speak for a few minutes. She could have told him anything — what we did, where we live. The man’s a maniac.”

  Megan’s mother interrupted. “She’ll be fine. We’ll look after her. If necessary, I’ll keep her under lock and key until Donnelly’s inside again.”

  Ruth gave each of them her card. “If you want to talk, Megan, or if anything occurs to you, then give me a ring. Doesn’t matter when it is.”

  Megan Heywood gave Ruth a big smile. “Better not ring you at night. Mr Ireson won’t like it!”

  Ruth smiled back. “I think it’ll be baby Ireson that’ll grumble.”

  “Mr Ireson is really nice, we all like him. You’re dead lucky, you are.”

  They left the house. Calladine said, “When we get back I’ll be sure to check that notebook Donnelly left with us. See if he made any mention of meeting his daughter today.”

  “Whether it’s there or not it makes no difference. It’s not evidence that he hurt Elsa, Tom. Now — Gaby Donnelly? Or do we go and find Danny Ramsden?” Ruth said firmly.

  “I think we should check out Danny and his friend Liam Peach before we go any further. I want to know why Peach is so interested in those girls. It might be better to bring them into the station for a chat,” Calladine said.

  “You recognised that name, didn’t you? I saw the look on your face.”

  “Liam Peach is old enough to be the father of any one of those girls. And he used to be big pals with Donnelly.”

  Ruth stared at him. “What are you getting at?”

  “I don’t know yet. I need to think about it.”

  Chapter 8

  “Sir, Shelley Mortimer rang in. She wants you to ring her back urgently.”

  They’d returned to the office. Calladine checked his mobile — nothing. Then he saw that the battery was dead. “Thanks, Joyce.” He dialled Shez’s number.

  “Sorry, love, I need to charge the bloody thing. To be honest, I think I need a new one. I’ve had this one for years.”

  Shez ignored the small talk. “I need to see you, Tom. Today, as soon as you can get away.”

  She sounded upset. Her voice was shaky. Not like her at all. “Something bothering you?”

  But Shez didn’t explain. “The Wheatsheaf in an hour, and don’t be late. Don’t bring half the nick with you either. What I’ve got to say is delicate.”

  What now? Shez was a great girl, but her life was complicated. This latest problem could be anything. Calladine looked at Ruth. “You should get off. I’m going to prepare the briefing notes for the morning, then I’ll have to go too.”

  “Got you under her thumb, has she?” Ruth said.

  Calladine grinned. “She misses me. Can’t say I blame her.”

  “Big-headed sod! See you in the morning.”

  Calladine retired to his office to try and make sense of what they’d got. No one wanted him on Donnelly’s tail, so he’d have to play smart. And now another name had come up — Liam Peach. Calladine looked at the Annabelle Roper case notes and found that Peach got a mention. He and Donnelly had fought a couple of days before they found the body. When he’d been arrested, Donnelly had bruises all over his face. He maintained that was down to Peach. At the time Peach had admitted as much, but not the reason why they’d fought. Tomorrow Calladine would get Imogen to check what Peach had been up to recently. Another name caught his eye — one he’d forgotten. It was Dawn Heywood, Megan’s mother. He could have kicked himself. She’d been seeing Donnelly at the time of the murder. She’d been asked for a statement about his whereabouts, but had refused to speak. Among the notes was one written by Reynolds. He’d circled the date of Annabelle’s murder, and written the name Dawn Heywood and a question mark. Calladine had no idea what this meant, or what had been going on in the DI’s mind at the time. But the way things were going, he might get the opportunity to ask him.

  Then there was Danny Ramsden. Why was he going around with a no-mark like Peach? Drugs? And why had they argued? They’d be sure to ask him when he came in.

  They still had a number of the sixth formers to speak to. Rachel Hayes and Sophie Griggs might know something Megan didn’t. Then there was Gaby. He’d get Ruth to sort the girls, along with Rocco. She understood them better than he did.

  Calladine flicked through the Elsa Ramsden case notes again. Donnelly was involved in this, he was sure of it. He intended to go through the notebook with a fine-tooth comb, check out every entry. He’d do it himself, quietly.

  * * *

  Shez’s greeting was brusque. “I said an hour. I’ve got you a drink. Let’s sit in the corner over there.” She pointed to an empty table under an amplifier.

  Calladine grimaced as they sat down. “Bit noisy.”

  Shez’s response was, “I don’t want anyone listening to what we’re talking about.”

  “What’s up?” He watched as she fiddled with her red polished nails, obviously nervous. Shez hadn’t been in his life for long. She was nearly ten years younger than Calladine and was looking stunning. She had black, chin-length hair, wide cheekbones and a full mouth, always bright with her signature red lippy. He was always half expecting her to come to her senses and dump him. He couldn’t quite believe she wanted to be with him.

  Now Shez’s bottom lip was quivering. “Something’s happened. I’m only telling you, Tom, because I need your help. Your unofficial help. It was made quite clear that I shouldn’t go near the police.”

  Calladine’s heart sank. “Depends what it is. Just spit it out and then we’ll see.”

  “One of my girls has gone missing.”

  This had happened before, so why the big deal? Shez ran a model and escort agency. The girls often accompanied wealthy clients and sometimes that meant impromptu weekends away. “Why so upset? She’ll come back.”

  “No, I don’t think she will. Not unless we intervene.” Shez passed him an envelope. “Read the letter inside.”

  The note was brief. It was a ransom demand. Kate Reynolds had been kidnapped. Two hundred thousand pounds was being demanded for her release. Calladine looked up at Shez. “Is this genuine? Are you sure it’s not some scam, or a joke?”

  Shez shook her head. “That’s what I thought at first. But look inside the envelope again.”

  Calladine peered inside and found a lock of dark brown hair tied up with pink ribbon.

  “It’s Kate’s hair. The last sentence states that if I don’t pay, h
e’ll send her back to me, piece by piece.”

  Calladine took a long swig of his beer and leaned back in his seat. “This can’t stay unofficial, Shez. Kate is in danger. I have to give this letter and its contents to our forensic people. You have to formally report this.”

  “They’ll kill her. It says so there.” A red nail tapped at the threatening sentence. “I can’t risk her life! I’d never forgive myself. I’m begging you, Tom. Do something! Find Kate for me. Catch the bastard who took her.”

  “When did you get this?”

  “This morning. It must have been shoved through the door of my flat. There is no stamp or postmark.”

  “Did anyone see anything? You live above your office. You have a girl manning the phones all day.”

  “The flat has its own entrance, round the back. No one saw, and there are no cameras round there either.”

  “Has Kate — or you — upset anyone recently?”

  She sighed. “No more than usual, Tom. You know my business is fraught with possibilities. My clients in the escort side can get a bit tricky at times. But Kate hasn’t done any escort work. She’s a model, and she just gets on with the job. She’s been doing a shoot for a high-street shop, modelling their winter range.”

  “Have you heard anything from the kidnapper since the note?”

  “I had a call on the office phone at lunchtime. It was a man. He said he’d be in touch with his instructions within the next twenty-four hours. If I don’t do as he wants, he’ll harm Kate.”

  “The call . . .”

  “I dialled 1471 the minute he rang off, but the number was withheld.”

  “We have to report this,” Calladine said firmly.

  Shez didn’t reply. Her hand shook as she reached for her drink.

  “It will be a low-key investigation. Whoever has taken Kate won’t even realise,” Calladine said.

  “You can’t promise that. Will you lead the investigation, Tom?”

  He knew that was unlikely. “I can’t. I’m involved, and I’m currently investigating a murder.”

  “So who will they put in charge? Kate lives in Leesdon, with her father.”

  With her father? Calladine looked at her. “Any relation to Alan Reynolds?”

  “He’s her dad, he’s ex-police.”

  A name from the past. Calladine’s old boss in fact.

  “Yes, I’ve worked with him. Rest assured that whoever takes the case will do a good job. My colleagues know what they are doing.”

  Calladine went through the options. The other team at the nick were headed up by DI Brad Long, who was on annual leave. That left DS Don Thorpe, which gave him no confidence at all. He couldn’t say that to Shez.

  * * *

  Jake Ireson sat on the sofa, cuddling his son. “It’s been a bloody awful day. After the visit from you two, the group just wouldn’t settle. I had a meeting with the head so I had no choice but to leave them with Robert. They’re a heartless bunch when they spot weakness. They home in — and twist the knife.”

  Ordinarily, Ruth didn’t have much time to spare for Leesdon Comp’s sad new recruit, but it did have a bearing on the case. “What’s wrong with him?”

  “He can’t hack it. God knows I’ve tried, both with him and the kids. But they take every opportunity to make mincemeat of him. Unless he learns how to handle teenagers he’ll have to call it a day. His nerves won’t stand the strain.”

  “Has he spoken to you?”

  “That’s a big part of the problem. Robert won’t admit that he’s got a problem. I left him for twenty minutes this afternoon, and when I got back the kids had gone berserk. They were throwing stuff around the room, someone was playing music from their phone, and four or five of them were even dancing! Robert was virtually cowering at his desk. The kids quietened down the second they spotted me, but I know what I saw, and so does Robert.”

  “You can’t sort him on your own. Tell the head or whoever deals with problems of that sort. Surely he’s had training? Why go into teaching if you can’t cope with kids?”

  Jake handed Harry to her. “Here’s one kid that knows what he wants — his mum. Amy at the nursery said he’s had a lovely time today. He’s been digging in the sandpit and watching some of the bigger kids play football.”

  “Football?”

  “Some bloke comes in once a week and teaches them. Girls and boys, and in all weathers. ‘Football Freddie,’ they call him.”

  “He’s going to love that when he gets older.”

  “How was your first day back?”

  Ruth shrugged. “Oh, you know. One murder, a killer newly released from Strangeways and Calladine playing maverick again. Apart from that, easy!”

  “The head got a call before we finished this afternoon. We know about Elsa, but we haven’t told the kids yet.”

  “Doesn’t matter. They’ll all know by now. Megan Heywood will see to that, I would imagine. She’s convinced it’s down to Gaby’s father, Craig Donnelly. He’s the newly released by the way. Calladine is convinced too. But I’m not so sure.”

  “Elsa was a dark horse, Ruth. She might have been still a schoolkid, but she had some dodgy friends. Not the least of them being Liam Peach. He’s a long-time drug dealer off the Hobfield, when he’s not inside. They had some sort of romance going on a few months ago. And I cannot begin to understand what she saw in him. When I heard I put it down to drugs, and he had plenty of money.”

  Ruth shook her head. “Well, he hasn’t now, according to the latest tittle-tattle.”

  “Around that time there was a rumour that Elsa had got herself pregnant, and had an abortion. But check that before you use it.”

  Ruth kissed him. “And there was me thinking you didn’t pick up on things. Well done! We’ll make a detective of you yet.”

  “No thanks. I’m happy where I am.”

  Chapter 9

  Wednesday

  “While some of you were having a life last night, I was sat in here preparing this report of where we’re at.” Calladine passed around several sheets of paper to his team of three. “Rocco and Imogen, I want you to find Liam Peach and bring him in for a chat. Try the local bookies. That’s his favourite haunt of late. While you’re doing that I’ll get a couple of uniform to bring in Danny Ramsden. Keep them apart. I don’t want them coordinating on their stories. Ruth, would you return to Leesdon Comp and speak to Rachel and Sophie? Get them on their own. See if they say anything different from yesterday. Remember how Rachel came back and gave us that little titbit. This afternoon we’ll both go and see Gaby Donnelly and her mother.”

  “It might be worth having a private chat with Robert Clarke while I’m there. He’s the NQT who’s working with Jake. He’s not coping. Those girls are making his life hell. Just a thought,” added Ruth.

  “If you think it’ll get us anywhere. It’s a big leap from suffering a bit of flak to killing one of your pupils.”

  “I’m not suggesting that. But he may know things. They tease him, say stuff out of turn.”

  Calladine turned to Joyce. “Would you arrange the meeting with the Donnellys? I don’t mind where, either the school or their home.”

  A uniformed officer stuck his head around the door. “Sir, your visitor is downstairs.”

  Calladine smiled. “Would you show her into the soft interview room, please, Jack? Right folks, get to it. We’ll meet back here at lunchtime and see what we’ve got.”

  Ruth began putting her stuff together. “Who’s visiting you?”

  Calladine pulled a face. “Shez.”

  “Why, what’s she done? And why the face?”

  “I’ll tell you later. It’s sensitive. Actually it’s worse than that, it’s damned tricky. I’m not sure how it’s going to go, either.”

  “A problem with Shez, eh? Is that because you stayed late last night to do your homework? Throw a strop in the Wheatsheaf, did she?”

  “It’s nothing like that. She needs my help. She had something to tell me. After that n
either of us was in the mood for small talk, so I came back. This case won’t crack itself, Ruth. Plus, given what Shez told me, we might have something else on our hands very soon.”

  “More work? What’s wrong with Long’s team taking up the slack?”

  “He’s on holiday, so that leaves Thorpe. Shez needs help, not some joker who’ll just sit around ogling her girls.”

  Ruth was curious now. “Come on then. What’s it about?”

  “I can’t discuss it yet.” He saw her face — Ruth was going to do her best to wheedle it out of him. “I’ll tell you later, I promise. Let me have the meeting first.”

  Ruth wagged her finger at him. “You’re being cagey, Calladine. What happened to that partnership you were so big on yesterday?”

  He was saved by the office phone ringing.

  It was Rhona Birch, and she was not pleased. “We’re waiting, Inspector.”

  “On my way, ma’am.”

  Ruth grinned. “Go on then, get to it. Birch doesn’t appreciate being kept hanging around.”

  * * *

  “According to the boss, he hangs out in the bookies.” Rocco checked his watch. “Will they be open this time of the morning?”

  “We’ll park up and wait. By the time we get him back, uniform should have collected Danny Ramsden off the Hobfield.”

  Rocco was reading through Calladine’s report. “Liam Peach knows Donnelly. He’s about the same age too, they’re both in their late forties. So what’s he doing, going out with young girls?”

  “Some blokes are like that. Some girls prefer older men too.”

  “Weird if you ask me.”

  Imogen edged into a space a few yards away from the bookies. The shops were just opening and there were plenty of folk about already. “We have no address for Peach. The last one was his mother’s, but uniform said he left there months ago. If we don’t catch him here we’ve got a search on our hands.”

  Rocco pointed to a bloke standing outside the bookies’ door. “Well, we’re in luck. That’s him. Let’s go.”

  Imogen showed the man her badge. “Liam Peach? DCs Rockliffe and Goode, Leesdon CID. We’d like you come down to the station for a little chat.”

 

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