“Jonny had problems, debt mostly. He was about to ditch the place and run. I stepped in and got the whole lot for a song.”
“Lucky you. That business is pretty established. You should do well.”
Peach leaned back in his chair. “Wish folk would leave me alone to get on with it.”
“Why did you fall out with Danny Ramsden?”
Peach pulled a face. “That sister of his wants her lights punching out. Stupid bitch dropped me right in it.”
“Elsa? What did she do?”
“She used me. Really stitched me up. Got me to get stuff for her, didn’t she?”
“That stuff being drugs.”
“Look, copper, I didn’t come here to get banged up for dealing. It wasn’t like that. It was just a bit of blow for personal use.”
“For now, let’s say I believe that little fairy tale. Did Danny object?”
“No — the reverse. He wanted me to get more. Said he’d do me over if I refused. But I couldn’t get anything. I’ve been out of circulation for a while so I don’t know the right people anymore. He was having none of it. We had a bit of a scrap outside the pub one night. I gave him a wide berth for a while and it fizzled out. We’re okay now.”
“When did you last see Elsa?”
“A couple of weeks ago. She was being a pain. Despite what had happened, she kept on at me to get her more drugs.”
“Did you tell Danny?”
“No, I’m keeping well away. If he tries it on again I’ll be complaining to you lot.”
“I don’t think he will. He’s got other things on his mind at the moment.”
Peachy looked from one officer to the other. “I heard something about Elsa. Is it true?”
“I’m afraid it is.”
“That’s got nothing to do with me. I haven’t seen the slag in ages. I told you.”
“Seen anything of Craig Donnelly since he got out?”
Peach’s eyes shot up to meet Calladine’s. He’d struck a nerve. “Why would I want to see him?”
“You tell me. But you and him do have history, you can’t deny that. You beat him up quite badly just before he got arrested for the Annabelle Roper killing. The bloke was covered in bruises.”
Liam Peach was squirming now. “Nothing was ever proved. You can’t pin that on me.”
Calladine ignored this. “Why did you do it? Did you know what he’d done?”
“I’d no idea that girl was down to him.”
Calladine didn’t pause. “Did you know Annabelle Roper?”
“What makes you ask that?”
“Just answer the question. Did you know her?”
“Everyone on the estate knew her. She was alright really. Shame what happened. I didn’t know Donnelly had done it. And I didn’t beat him up.”
“Yes, you did. You admitted as much at the time. So why say you didn’t?”
“Can I go now? This isn’t official. That other copper said it was just a chat.”
“Questions getting too tricky for you?”
Peach folded his arms. “Bloody coppers! Go and drag some other poor bugger in here and wind him up. I’ve had enough! And I’ve got a business to run.”
They weren’t going to get any more out of him. “We’ll need an address,” Imogen told him.
“I’m living in the flat above the bookies.”
Calladine gestured to the uniform to escort Liam Peach out.
* * *
Back in the incident room, Rocco reported on the second interview. “Danny Ramsden insists he isn’t after Peach, sir. Ten minutes tops, that’s all we spent on him.”
Ruth confirmed this. “Everything he said rang true. He was mystified when I suggested he was after Peach. He agreed there had been some bother a while ago. But given what has happened, Peach is way down Ramsden’s list of priorities. He is really cut up about Elsa. He identified the body, said they were the worst moments of his life. He was very open about everything.”
“So why did the girls think Peach was so scared, Ruth?”
Imogen chipped in. “Because of something else? It might be the drugs. He could be dealing to the kids on the quiet. He might even have still been supplying Elsa. But we’ll never know that.”
Calladine shook his head. “If you ask me, he was more scared of Donnelly.”
“So why didn’t he tell us, guv?” Imogen asked. “Come clean? Surely he must realise he’d be safer with us on side.”
Calladine was unconvinced. “Because it’s Liam Peach we’re dealing with, a drug-dealing scally with a dodgy past and friends he wouldn’t want us to know about.”
Imogen was already tapping away on her keyboard. “I’ve got that report on the findings from Elsa’s laptop, sir.”
Calladine sighed. Imogen had said the chat room was on the dark web. In that case, what was the betting they’d got very little?
“The site works a bit like Skype, except that all the conversations are deleted once they’re over. We know he spoke to Elsa every day and always at the same time — early morning. The history records that much, but there’s no web address. The one Megan gave Ruth was bogus. I think he probably contacts them, tells them to be online so he can access their computers.”
Ruth was thinking aloud. “Early morning . . . Someone with somewhere to go. A job?”
“Or a time when the girls are bound to be in. Probably in their bedrooms getting ready for school,” Imogen added.
“This Aiden didn’t always initiate contact. The kids could contact the chat room during the day too, so how did that work?” Calladine reminded them.
Imogen was looking at her screen. “It didn’t. When the meetings were unscheduled, the kids were directed to a genuine website. Matt says that unless that website recognised your IP address, you weren’t allowed on.”
Calladine peered over her shoulder. “Can we get anywhere with that?”
“Matt says it’s been taken down. He’s trying to find out who hosted it, but is having no luck. It could have been located on a server anywhere in the world.”
“No chat room then. This Aiden, or whatever he’s really called, is grooming the girls. He could have had Elsa, Megan and God knows who else on the go at the same time. The girls simply told anyone who got curious that they were talking about homework.”
Imogen nodded. “That’s about the size of it, sir. Matt is still working on it. He could come up with more. We’ll have to give him time.”
Calladine was grim. “Megan might not have time. Do we know the route she takes to school?”
“Up until this week she’s walked with Elsa. Now she makes her own way. Meets up with the others on the High Street,” Imogen said.
Calladine shouted across the room. “Rocco! Check every minute of CCTV you can find. We need to know if Megan made it to the High Street or not.”
Rocco nodded. “There’s a camera at the edge of the common too, sir.”
“Good. At least if we can pin down a location and time, we might be able to work out where and when she went missing.”
Chapter 11
“Where . . . where am I?”
The girl’s plaintive cry cut into the dark silence of the empty room. She shouted out again. But there was no reply. Megan Heywood tried to move but it was impossible. She’d been bound to a chair. Still dressed in her school uniform, minus her coat, she was shivering with cold.
“Is anyone there? Please say something. How did I get here? I have to go home.”
“You’re with me, Megan.”
The voice was coming from a distance. Megan squinted into the gloom. She was sure there was no one else here. Then she made out a flashing red light. A camera. He was using it to watch her. The realisation made her angry. Who did he think he was to do this to her? And how had he got her here? She struggled with the hazy memory of the day. The more she tried to remember, the more her head ached. Sudden panic made her feel sick. This must be what he’d done to her friend. That thought sent a shiver of ice down
her spine. “Was it you who took Elsa?”
He laughed.
Megan had no idea what time of day it was. Her mother would be frantic. “You have to let me go! You’ve made a mistake. I’m not like her. I didn’t agree with what she did to Gaby. Please . . . you have to listen.” She was pleading with the darkness.
The voice came back, “I expected gratitude. You’ve wanted this for long enough.”
“Do I know you?” She was puzzled. Who did she know who’d do something like this?
“I won’t keep you waiting much longer, Megan. I’ve been looking forward to this, counting down the days. I bet you never realised you were having such an effect on me, did you?”
She was shaking with fear. This guy was a nutcase, whoever he was. “You’re sick! You won’t get away with this.”
She screamed and pulled hard against what bound her, but Megan was losing the battle. She turned to one side and vomited. It made her even thirstier.
“I know what you did to Elsa, but there is no need to harm me. Let me go and I won’t say a word.”
He chuckled. “That would be no fun at all, Megan. Anyway, it’s too late. You are here now and you know too much.”
She screamed again into the blackness of the room. The only response was his laughter.
“No one will hear you. No one will come. Try to calm yourself. I will soon put you out of your misery.”
“You can’t hurt me! The police will find out like they did with Elsa. You’ll be caught and punished.”
“I’ll take my chances, Megan. No one is going to find you until it’s too late.”
He laughed again.
“You’re mad!”
“You young girls make it too easy. You deserve everything you get.”
“What are you going to do to me?” Her breath caught in her throat. She swallowed, dreading his reply.
“I’m going to kill you, Megan. Eventually. But first we’re going to have some fun.”
* * *
Calladine sat down next to Rocco. “Megan’s walk to school?”
Rocco pointed at the screen. “I’ve spotted something, sir. This character follows her from the common to Byron’s Lane, the small passageway that links Park Road with the High Street. I’ve looked further on but Megan doesn’t appear again.” He tapped the monitor. “She went missing here, I’ll lay odds on it.”
“Byron’s Lane? It’s only a few yards long, and narrow. You couldn’t drive a car through there. Check with the school and with her mother. If no one knows where Megan is, I want a full forensic team in that alley. Get uniform to tape it off in the meantime, and arrange a house to house. Give me another look at the bloke who followed her.”
The man was wearing a long coat. He walked hunched over. He had long untidy hair and a full beard. Calladine had seen him somewhere before. “Print that out for me,” he told Rocco.
With the image in his hand, Calladine walked along the corridor to the other team’s office. Calladine put the printout in front of DS Don Thorpe. “Birch asked you for some background on this bloke, Jason Kent. Did you get anything?”
“No. He’s a ghost. There are plenty of Jason Kents out there, but none of them are him.” Thorpe tapped the photo. “Look at him. All that facial hair — it’s a disguise, and he’s wearing a wig.”
“So he could be anyone?”
“Got it in one. I’ve checked the prison CCTV. His age is difficult to guess from the way he walks. And I think the weight he appears to be carrying around his middle is padding.”
“He’ll have been searched, surely?”
Thorpe shrugged. “He could still get away with it. Plenty of clothing on top.”
That meant if they wanted to know what he was doing visiting a murderer, they’d have to ask Donnelly himself. The Reverend Livings would not like that.
“You got nothing else? Just that he doesn’t exist?” Calladine shook his head.
“That’s about it. Can’t waste any more time on it.” Thorpe tapped another file.
“How is the Kate Reynolds case going?”
“Got her on CCTV too, at Leesdon station like your lady said. Shez is a real looker by the way. Don’t know how you did it, but, respect!”
“The case, Thorpe! Keep your head on the case. That girl’s life depends on it. We need her found.”
Calladine left him to it. It would be a miracle if Thorpe found Kate. They needed more information.
On his return to the incident room, Calladine collared the DC. “Rocco? Do me a favour, but keep it quiet. Take this photo and see if anyone at Leesdon railway station remembers this woman. She got off the Manchester train late Friday lunchtime. I could do with knowing if she spoke to anyone, whether anyone met her and what she did when she left. Did she get a taxi or walk, for instance?”
“Does this have anything to do with Elsa or Megan, sir?”
“No. But this young woman is missing too. Don’t make a meal of it, and keep all your enquiries low-key.”
Rocco didn’t look happy. “I was going to carry on with the CCTV on the High Street, sir.”
“Have you spoken to Megan’s mum?”
“She has no idea where she is. Apparently her mobile is switched off and that never happens.”
“Ruth, do we know who Megan’s service provider is?”
“I’ll ask her mum.”
“See if they can tell us when and where the phone was switched off. I’m going to declare Megan Heywood officially missing. I’ll arrange for someone to go to the house. They can pick up her laptop while they’re at it.”
As Rocco left the office, Ruth looked up from her desk. “That’s a different case you sent Rocco out on, isn’t it?”
“Yes. One of Shez’s girls is missing. Interestingly it’s Kate Reynolds, daughter of my old DI. I don’t know what that means, if anything. They’ve sent a ransom demand to Shez, but keep it to yourself. Thorpe is supposed to be handling it but he’s getting nowhere.”
“Why ask Shez for money? Why not Kate’s father?”
“That’s bothering me too. The truth is, we don’t know that he hasn’t. It could be that he’s simply not reported it.”
“Has Thorpe spoken to Reynolds?”
“I doubt it.”
Ruth shook her head. “So that means you’re going to. You’re getting too involved. And now you’ve sent Rocco out on the other team’s case. Birch won’t like it.”
“Birch won’t find out.”
Ruth sighed. “Back to what we’re supposed to be doing, I’ve been on to Elsa’s GP. Rachel Hayes said she might have been pregnant. The doctor wouldn’t talk over the phone but he will see me if I go in. He rattled on about patient confidentiality until I told him what had happened. Now he’s willing to talk candidly.”
“Good work.” Calladine looked at the office clock. “Why don’t you get off? Call in at the surgery on your way home.”
“Not a bad idea. Jake will be late. No Robert Clarke means he’s got a lot on his plate. I can pick up Harry, take him home and give him his tea.”
With the rest of the team out of the way, Calladine took another look at the CCTV of Leesdon High Street. No sign of Megan. He backtracked, picking her up crossing the edge of the common onto Park Road and approaching Byron’s Lane. Jason Kent came into view behind her. He followed until they both disappeared into the lane.
Jason Kent, whoever he really was, had visited Donnelly in prison, and now it looked as if he had taken Megan. Calladine knew he would have to speak to Donnelly again. Livings would complain, and Donnelly would scream persecution. He needed Birch on side. This was too much of a coincidence to let pass.
Joyce came in and Calladine asked, “Has DCI Birch left?”
Joyce looked around as if to make sure no one else was about. “No, sir, but she’s got me worried. She’s in her office, weeping.”
Calladine usually consulted Ruth about such things, but she wasn’t here. He looked at Joyce, horrified. Birch weeping! He’d no idea w
hat to do.
Joyce said at once, “You should go and talk to her. She may have had bad news, anything could have happened. You are closer to her than anybody else here.”
Calladine snorted. “We’re hardly close. All that talking we do is mostly her giving me a bollocking about something or other.” He scratched his head. “Do you really think she’d appreciate being disturbed?”
Joyce nodded. “Take her a cup of tea. I’ll put the kettle on.”
Five minutes later, Calladine knocked on Rhona Birch’s door and walked straight in. Joyce had been right. Birch sat behind her desk with a box of tissues and a bottle of malt in front of her, sobbing.
Calladine put the cup in front of her and sat down. “Tea, ma’am. I knew there was something. You’ve not looked right these last few days.”
Birch sniffed. “You’re very perceptive, Calladine. I’ve done my best to keep it to myself but there comes a time . . .”
“Can I help?”
“No. No one can. There is nothing to be done now but wait until . . .”
“What is it, ma’am? Even if I can’t do anything it might help to get it off your chest.”
He waited while she regarded him doubtfully. Birch was unlike any other woman he knew. Surely it couldn’t be man trouble?
Eventually she seemed to come to a decision. “It might surprise you to know that I’m married, Inspector.”
Yes it did. He’d had no idea.
Birch poured a generous slug of the whiskey into her tea. “Reg, my husband, is a joiner. Works for himself. We’ve been separated for years, but we still get on after a fashion. Come together for family stuff and to put on a show for Jack. Jack’s our son.”
A kid too! “Are you having problems?” Calladine hoped to God she wasn’t going to tell him some tricky marital stuff.
“In a manner of speaking. It’s Jack. He’s gone missing in Australia. He’s eighteen and is on a gap year, travelling round the world before he starts university. I had a phone call two days ago. The Australian police have found some of his stuff, including his phone, abandoned in some far-flung place. They’ve started a search but are not optimistic.” She hung her head. “There was evidence of a fight. One of Jack’s T-shirts was blood-stained.”
Dead Nasty Page 9
