Dead Nasty

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Dead Nasty Page 18

by Helen H. Durrant


  Calladine rubbed at his face. “There has to be somewhere we’ve missed.”

  “You’re knackered, Tom. You should try and grab an hour.”

  “Rocco is the same, but we can’t, not yet.”

  “Donnelly’s prints. That means we’ve got him. He can’t pretend someone else set that up.”

  “We found Liam Peach’s too.”

  “The two of them were working together? Donnelly I can believe, but Peach has never hurt anyone. Drugs and the like, yes. But never violence.”

  “You’re forgetting that he gave Donnelly a proper pasting about the time of the Annabelle killing,” Calladine said.

  Ruth suddenly remembered. “He’s going away today! He told us yesterday. He’s going to Spain this afternoon.”

  “I told him to stay put. Rocco, get round to the bookies, see if he’s there. If not, then get on to Manchester Airport. Ask them to hold Liam Peach. I don’t care how much fuss he makes, they must not let him go.”

  Joyce held out the phone. “Julian’s on the line, guv.”

  “It is Imogen’s blood, Tom.”

  For several seconds neither man said a word. Calladine looked at Ruth and shook his head. “It’s definite then. She was at the church last night.”

  “Yes. And she was injured. It’s difficult to ascertain how badly from the blood on those stones. That’s the one fact that is keeping me going, Tom.”

  Calladine nodded at the phone. He had no words. Eventually he said, “We have brought Donnelly in. It looks as if Livings is in the clear. He was out until nine. We are still looking for a computer.”

  “The blood on the hair bobble found in the alley. That was Donnelly’s. We retrieved hair from the wig, part of the disguise hung behind the door. It was short, black hair that had been recently dyed. We have extracted DNA from a couple of tissues found in the coat pocket. That will take longer to analyse.”

  “Good. With your forensic evidence, and what Rachel and Kate can tell us, we should get this case wrapped up very soon.”

  Julian Batho put the phone down.

  “What are we doing about Robert Clarke, Tom?”

  “We should talk to him. You’d better come with me this time. I don’t think he likes me very much.”

  * * *

  “We are going to release you, Robert. In a few minutes you will be free to go.” Calladine watched the man’s face light up.

  Clarke kept his eyes on Ruth. “This has been a bloody nightmare.”

  “At the time you looked like a pretty good suspect,” Calladine told him.

  “You’re saying that I look like a killer? You’ve got some nerve. You need to get your facts right before you drag folk in here.”

  Ruth interrupted. “You have a cat, Robert. Cat hair played a significant part in this.”

  “Mog is into everything. She disappears for days, gets in everywhere, but she always comes back. I suspected someone was feeding her, but I’d no idea she was just downstairs.”

  “Did you never hear anything? Those girls would have made a noise,” said Calladine.

  “I thought I heard someone crying one night. I put it down to people walking up and down Byron’s Lane. The yard outside the bakery has a funny echo.”

  Ruth looked at him. “Is there anywhere you can stay? That entire building is being gone over by forensics. Apart from that, it’s a death trap. I doubt anyone will be allowed to live there again.”

  “I’m taking a couple of weeks off. I’ll go and stay with my sister.”

  Ruth groaned. That meant Jake would be up to his eyes in it for the foreseeable.

  A PC took Robert Clarke out.

  Calladine checked his mobile. “They should have got Peach in custody by now. We’ll do him next. Give Donnelly time to consider his position.”

  “He has to know where Imogen is, Tom. How are we going to tackle that one?”

  “He’d better tell us, or I’ll break his bloody neck.”

  * * *

  Liam Peach sat down in the interview room. “You do realise I’ve missed my flight? I won’t get a refund. It was a last minute deal.”

  Calladine smiled. “Can’t be helped, Peachy. We need a word. This is serious, I’m afraid.”

  “Look, copper, I don’t know what you think you’ve got but I’m guilty of nowt.”

  “In that case, can you explain how your fingerprints got inside the old Adams’s bakery?” As he spoke, Calladine turned his gaze to Peachy’s hair. At his age, he should be going grey. But his hair was a startling jet black.

  “I must have been in there at some time. It’ll have been years ago.”

  “Do you dye your hair, Peachy?”

  He smiled and ran his fingers through it. “Linda does it at the salon up the road from mine. It’s no crime. I just want to look okay, know what I mean?”

  Calladine showed him a photo of Jason Kent. “Do you recognise this man?”

  “Never seen him before.”

  “You see, that’s another odd thing. The man is wearing a disguise. An oversized coat, a wig and false facial hair. It’s good too, it even got past the officers at Strangeways.”

  Peachy grinned. “Good for him. What’s that got to do with me?”

  “It’s the wig. Forensics found real hair in it. Just one or two strands, but enough. They are yours, Peachy. How do you reckon that could have happened?”

  Calladine was taking a risk. Nothing had been proven yet.

  “Someone’s made a mistake.”

  “No mistake. We’ve been very careful. You see, Peachy, a man wearing that disguise lured two young women to their deaths.”

  Peachy was adamant. “That wasn’t me. You can pin that little lot somewhere else.”

  “We’d like to, but it’s your hair on that wig, and they are your prints on the bakery door. And we know that’s where the girls were killed.”

  Peachy’s shifty smile faded away, and he began to look worried. He sighed. “Look copper, I didn’t want to get involved, but I had no choice. I owed Donnelly. He was always on my back. My Natalie got herself into bother with a dealer a lot of years ago. I’m not talking small-time neither. The bastard would have killed her. Donnelly gave me the money to sort it. After that, she started seeing him. But ever since then he’s behaved as if he owns me.”

  “Is that why you beat him up, because he was seeing Natalie?”

  “Not just that. He tried to set me up for the Annabelle Roper killing. He would have succeeded too, if I hadn’t had a stroke of luck.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “Donnelly did kill Annabelle. He can scream he didn’t until the end of his days, but I know he did.” Peachy looked down at the floor. “I saw him put her in that bin.”

  “You never came forward.”

  “No one would have believed me. My reputation was even worse back then than it is now. But perhaps I should have done. You lot were having a tough time proving anything. Donnelly was going to run, and Natalie was going with him. He was throwing a lot of stuff out. It was her who got those shoes for me. Silly mare knew they were expensive and thought I’d like them. I knew where Donnelly had left Annabelle’s body. The rest was easy.”

  “Hang on, I need to understand this. You knew Donnelly had killed, but you didn’t try to stop Natalie running away with him?”

  “Stupid slag deserved him.”

  “She gave you the shoes, and you put Annabelle’s blood on them?”

  “Yes I did. And then I put them back in the wardrobe. The rest you know, copper.”

  At least that meant that Kennet hadn’t been responsible. Calladine was relieved. “The disguise, tell me about that.”

  “Donnelly asked me to sort it, then visit him in Strangeways using the name ‘Jason Kent.’ I thought I’d get busted straight off, but I didn’t. It worked.”

  “Did Donnelly tell you why?”

  “No, and I didn’t ask.”

  “Have you worn the disguise since?”

  “No.”


  “But you’ve worked it out, haven’t you, Peachy?”

  “I reckon I have. He killed Elsa and Megan. He used the disguise, knowing you’d spot the guy on CCTV. He wanted me to visit him inside so you’d see a nutter asking how to commit murder. You’d be chasing a shadow, a man who didn’t exist. Clever really. Had you lot looking in all the wrong places.”

  Calladine gave a thin smile. “For a while we were thrown.”

  Peachy hung his head. “I did try to stop him. I knew those girls. They were okay.”

  “I believe you. You tried to set him up again, didn’t you?”

  Liam Peach nodded. “I left the earrings and bobble for you to find. I hoped it would be enough for you to make it stick.”

  “Unfortunately it wasn’t. Did you get Elsa’s hair from the salon you go to?”

  “Yes, that was easy. I got Donnelly’s blood when he came into the bookies one day with a bandaged hand. He’d cut himself doing some woodwork for one of the vicar’s old folk. I got Alison to dress it again. The old bandage was covered in blood that was still wet.”

  “You’ll give a statement and testify in court?”

  Peachy nodded.

  “Good. Now, perhaps you can help us with another matter. We believe Donnelly is holding one of our team. We’ve searched the vicarage and the cottage with no luck. Do you know if Donnelly has another place he uses?”

  Peachy shook his head. “Apart from the bakery, there is nowhere.”

  “There has to be. We know he has a computer, but we can’t find that either. Think, Peachy. Has he ever said anything? Hidden anything for you?”

  The shifty look was back. “Well, yes, he has, and he’s still got it.”

  “What?”

  “If I tell you, I’ll be incriminating myself.”

  Calladine leaned forward. “A woman’s life is at risk. Right now I don’t give a damn about drugs, guns or anything else you’re trading in.”

  “Not guns, just drugs. Nothing heavy, either. Just enough to make me a bob or two. Get me out of debt.”

  Calladine was wracking his brain. “We’ve been all over that place. We didn’t find anything. If Donnelly doesn’t stash stuff at the bakery, then he has to have somewhere else.”

  “There isn’t anywhere else.”

  Calladine suspended the interview.

  “At least he’ll testify. Looks like we’ve got Donnelly, Tom.”

  He looked at Ruth. “We still need forensics. Right now, I’m more concerned about Imogen. Donnelly is a known killer. Young, blonde women are his thing.”

  “Do we interview him next?”

  Calladine nodded.

  Chapter 24

  Donnelly sat down. “This is getting tedious.”

  Calladine came back at him. “For you and us both. We know about the bakery, Craig. We know what you did there. We’ve found your prints all over items used to imprison and murder two girls.”

  “Got me banged to rights, then.” Donnelly leaned back in the chair and folded his arms.

  “What? No argument this time? Not going to shout and bluster about your innocence and how we’re picking on you?”

  “No point. I’m tired of it all. I won’t stop. I can’t. The only way to make sure I don’t kill again is to lock me away. I tried to tell Livings, to make him see what a mistake he was making taking me on. But he believed in me, you see. He truly thought that a home, a job and the comfort of the church would get me through.” He hung his head. “But he was wrong. I can’t change.” The room was silent. Donnelly looked Calladine in the eyes. “You know that too, don’t you?”

  “You are admitting it, then? The murder of Elsa Ramsden and Megan Heywood, plus the abduction of Rachel Hayes and Kate Reynolds?”

  He grinned, boastful again. “Nice touch that, don’t you think? Given it was her dad who put me away the first time. The Reynolds girl was going to get me a fortune. I’d have had the money to scarper.”

  “Do you have a computer, Craig?” Ruth asked.

  “A laptop. Easier to hide.”

  “So you groomed those girls online, posing as a young lad called Aiden,” Calladine said.

  “Easy-peasy. Stupid tarts lapped it up. You have no idea how simple it was. Chat them up, lure them in, and bingo! It was all part of the game. But after a while the game gets boring.”

  “Why those girls in particular, Craig?” asked Calladine.

  “Why not? I was going to kill anyway. They were easy targets.”

  “Were you concerned that they had upset your daughter?”

  “I thought about it. Upsetting my Gaby was not a good idea. But if it hadn’t been them, it would have been someone else.” He gave Calladine a chilling smile. “I’m a killer, Inspector. It was my intention to come back to Leesdon and make a name for myself.” He paused. “I think I’ve done that alright, don’t you? Maybe one of them psychobabble people will tell me why one day. But the simple truth is, I get off on it.”

  Listening to this was sickening.

  “Putting things right for Gaby was a bonus. They’ll be no more nasty texts, harsh words or pictures texted around. I’ve made sure of that.”

  His words sent an icy chill through Calladine. Beside him, Ruth held her breath. Calladine’s voice shook slightly as he asked the next question. “What have you done with Imogen Goode?”

  “Wouldn’t you like to know, copper? She’s another young blonde that had the bad luck to come my way.” A wide smile accompanied these words, and Donnelly’s eyes lit up. He was playing them, and enjoying it. It was the only power he had left. Calladine’s stomach turned. This man was not going to help them.

  “This is a chance for you to redeem yourself, Craig,” Calladine tried. “Help us and perhaps we can help you.”

  Donnelly laughed. “I’m not an idiot. No one is going to help me, copper. What they are going to do is lock me up and leave me to rot!”

  “Where is she?” Calladine roared at him. “Tell us, Craig!”

  “Go to hell, copper!”

  * * *

  “Search the place again?” Ruth sounded hopeless.

  Calladine was pacing. This should be a good time. The team had their man. They should be celebrating. Instead they were strung out and worried to death about Imogen.

  Ruth had an idea. “Peachy asked Donnelly to hide drugs for him. We haven’t found them either. So let’s get a dog team on it. If they find the drugs, chances are they’ll find Imogen — and that damn computer too.”

  She was right. Calladine turned towards her and smiled. “Good one, Ruth. I should have thought of that myself.”

  “You’ve not slept. You’re brain’s running on empty. And it’s only a good idea if Donnelly’s hiding place is in the church grounds.”

  * * *

  The dog team was on site within the hour. Calladine, Rocco and Ruth were watching.

  “Anyone told Julian?” Ruth asked.

  Rocco answered. “I did. He’ll join us shortly.”

  “You don’t think he’s buried her, do you, Tom?” asked Ruth.

  “No. Donnelly didn’t have anything to do with the graves. And there have been no funerals here all month. The graveyard is full.”

  “Over here!” At least two of the dogs were showing a particular interest in a large grave.

  The detectives hurried across. Calladine’s heart was in his mouth. He didn’t usually have any time for religion, but he was praying now. “Big for a grave.”

  “That’s because it isn’t,” Ruth told him. “It’s a family vault. The Brayshaw family, to be precise. The cotton baron, Elias Brayshaw, was really wealthy. The lot of them must be in there.”

  “Why didn’t we notice this before?”

  “The entrance is half buried. There’s one big stone, plus that carved angel. It looks like an oversized grave, that’s why.”

  Rocco was pulling some of the weeds from the path. “So what exactly is it?”

  “Essentially it’s a stone room. It’ll co
ntain the coffins of that lot,” Ruth nodded at the inscription.

  Calladine shouted across to the uniformed officers. “Get it open!”

  “There are more of them dotted all over the graveyard,” Ruth pointed out.

  “The dogs like this one.” Calladine felt dreadful. This was one of the worst moments of his life.

  “New lock, sir!” a PC shouted back.

  “Smash it open!”

  * * *

  The paramedics brought Imogen’s body out of the vault. Ruth buried her face in a hanky and wept.

  “Smashed over the head with something flat. A spade looks likely.” Natasha Barrington told them. She too had tears in her eyes. Julian was stood to one side, an odd expression on his face. “You’ll have to look after him,” Natasha told Calladine.

  “Would she have known?”

  “No, the head injuries are extensive, Tom. Imogen would have been dead before she was dragged in there.”

  Calladine stood beside Ruth. “It is something at least.”

  “That could be any one of us being carted away in that ambulance, Tom. It’s too awful. Imogen was young. Julian won’t cope, we won’t cope! She was part of us all.”

  Ruth turned to Calladine and he held her tight. He rubbed a hand through her hair as she sobbed against his chest. He felt the hurt like a physical pain. He was wrung out emotionally and grossly overtired. He felt almost light-headed. Ruth looked up at him, about to ask a question. Before he knew what he was doing, he had kissed her.

  Ruth pulled away. “What are you doing? What is this?”

  “Sorry, I thought you needed a hug.”

  “You kissed me!” The words came out in a hiss. She obviously didn’t want anyone to hear.

  “It was a simple gesture of affection. We’re both cut up over Imogen.”

  “Don’t do anything like that again, Tom Calladine!”

  She seemed angry but her cheeks were flushed. Calladine left her and went to find Julian. He had no idea why he’d kissed her. But was it so strange? Ruth had been in his life longer than anyone. He’d known his mother for less than a year. His daughter, Zoe, had been unknown to him until she was a grown woman. He’d never analysed his relationship with Ruth. But what he did know was that he didn’t want to lose her. He needed her in his life, and not only at work.

 

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