THE FACELESS MAN an absolutely gripping crime mystery with a massive twist (Detectives Lennox & Wilde Thrillers Book 2)

by HELEN H. DURRANT

  Dean Greenwood had worked there. That was the link between them. Both Dean and Nadia had worked for Calvert. Nadia’s sister, Lana, had stayed in the Metropole. The pieces were coming together. “Nadia was just a young woman waiting on tables, how did she manage to get her hands on the drugs? Did she have help?” asked Harry.

  “Yes, we suspect Roebuck, whose photo is among Greenwood’s clippings.”

  “And the attempt on Lana Midani’s life?”

  “When Nadia was murdered, the heroin was never found,” Weeks explained. “We know she rang her sister the day before she died, and no doubt Calvert does too. It’s likely he suspects that Lana has the heroin or knows where it is.”

  Lana had kept that one to herself. “What about Roebuck? What did he do to help?”

  “He works for the laundry where the Calvert hotel sends its washing. He is one of the delivery men. We know that Nasir and Roebuck had struck up a friendship. He often gave her a lift home. Roebuck has history and knows people who can sell the drugs on.”

  “Do you know where Roebuck lives?” Harry asked.

  Weeks smiled. “Ryebridge. So you’d better get him found quick and put somewhere safe.”

  “How did Nadia get her hands on the drugs in the first place? Could that have been down to Roebuck too? Could he be one of the delivery men?” asked Jess.

  “We considered that, but no. He’s not whiter than white but recently he’s been keeping a low profile. We’ve searched his van more than once, and all we ever found was clean laundry.” Weeks chuckled. “We think Nadia Nasir was the person who looked after the deliveries at the Commodore. It makes sense. For reasons we can only guess at, that night she took off on her own — with Calvert’s drugs. Calvert won’t stand for disloyalty but more important than that, he wants his drugs back.”

  “Is it possible that she arranged for Roebuck to sell them on for her? Perhaps that’s why she cultivated the friendship,” Harry said.

  “Yes, and we reckon that’s exactly what Calvert thinks happened too. Hence, he gets his assassin to take the lot of them out.”

  “There’s a third image on Dean Greenwood’s board, a man with no face. Any idea about him?” Harry asked.

  “No, he’s something of a puzzle. But we’re sure he’s connected to either Calvert or possibly the Glasgow villain. Unfinished business,” Weeks said.

  “How could you possibly know that?” Harry asked. “This assassin could be working for someone else entirely. The faceless man may not be connected to any of the victims we know about.”

  “It’s possible, but we have nothing to suggest our assassin works for anyone but Calvert and whoever employed him in Glasgow. No doubt the villain has him on a retainer,” Weeks said. “Over the years this killer has got rid of any number of Calvert’s enemies. The Scottish angle — the Glaswegian villain — we have no idea about, but it’s possible that he and Calvert have some deal in mind.”

  Harry felt his stomach churn. Any major villain in Glasgow was bound to have a link to his old enemy, Mungo Salton, the last person Harry wanted connected to his patch.

  “If this Calvert is such a big-shot villain, why doesn’t he have his own killer?” Jess asked. “Why hire in an assassin?”

  “Our Mr Calvert has a reputation to maintain, that of a squeaky-clean businessman. He wouldn’t want anyone connected with him or his business to be involved in murder. He is careful to ensure that there is no one to give evidence against him.”

  “Yet he’s quite happy to have large consignments of drugs dropped off at his hotels. It doesn’t make sense,” Jess said.

  “That’s very well controlled, the Nasir incident apart. He only uses a few trusted people, and the drops are cleverly organised. We have tried to intercept one but so far without success. We know that large amounts of drugs make it to Calvert’s hotels but we have no idea how. To date, we haven’t been able to get Calvert on anything. He uses the assassin so that he doesn’t get his hands dirty,” Weeks said.

  “We know very little about the Scottish villain other than that he bears grudges,” Parkinson piped up. “The force in Glasgow reckon that’s what the Galashiels killings were about — getting even. The information we have is that the two victims were working together in an effort to avert an attempted take-over by the big boss up there. We were hoping that you might know a little more about what goes on up there, throw a few names into the pot.”

  It was the way he’d said it. Harry didn’t like the DI’s tone. He was making this sound personal, and it couldn’t be. “You sure you don’t already know? You must have a list of possibles.”

  “So must you, DI Lennox. But the theory of Calvert working with a Glasgow villain needs more research. We’ll get back to you,” Parkinson said.

  “Look, it’s not our intention to hold anything back,” Weeks said. “We aren’t in competition here. We want this killer and the bastard who hires him every bit as much as you do. But it will take work. I suggest you do your bit, and we’ll do ours, but there must be cooperation. Each team must keep the other informed of every move.”

  A nice idea, but Harry had the distinct impression Parkinson wasn’t keen, and that he had an agenda of his own. “The others on that board, apart from the Scottish victims and Nadir, are they local?”

  “All within the Greater Manchester area and we believe all connected to Calvert in some way. Some of the cases are old, but all were killed using the same method and we believe all by our assassin,” Weeks said.

  “How can you be so sure this Calvert is the man hiring the assassin?” Jess asked. “D’you have evidence?”

  “Our original suspicions about Calvert are based on information we gathered from a disgruntled ex-employee. He’d crossed Calvert and was terrified for his own safety and that of his family. We put him in a safe house in exchange for anything he could tell us. It wasn’t much but it led us to believe that Calvert headed up the distribution of drugs and that it was him who hired the assassin.”

  “Can’t this ex-employee give evidence against him?” Harry asked.

  “His statement is based on overheard conversations. None were recorded, and there’s nothing which will stand up in court.”

  “Has anyone spoken to Calvert?” Harry asked. “Faced him with what you know?”

  “Yes, me,” Weeks said. “But he was never going to admit to having people killed. His reaction can best be described as outrage. He had alibis up to his armpits for every single one of the killings, and he denied even knowing Nadia Nasir or the others. Said he couldn’t be expected to know every waitress his company employs. Arrogant bastard. And we have no idea how Calvert and his killer make contact. Burner phone is favourite, but then we have the problem of how the phones are passed to the assassin.”

  “They could be posted to him,” Jess suggested.

  “That’s a possibility.”

  “Or they could use some anonymous method of communicating. We have a laptop belonging to Dean Greenwood. He knew the assassin, and he didn’t find him on the dark web,” Harry said.

  “So how does finding the assassin lead us to Calvert?” Jess asked.

  “That’s our job,” Weeks said. “Find the assassin and there will be a trail leading back to Calvert, has to be, and we’ll follow it.”

  “What’s the betting Calvert lays a trap and has the assassin killed before he has a chance to say anything,” Harry said.

  “You’re right. It’s exactly what Calvert would do, and our assassin knows it. You catch him, and in exchange for making him safe, he’ll talk. It’d be stupid of him not to.”

  Weeks had a point. “I wouldn’t mind a word with Calvert myself,” Harry said. “Get the measure of the man.”

  Weeks grunted. “Not happening. Leave Calvert to us and concentrate on your side of this case. Check up on Roebuck and keep Ms Midani safely out of the way. Your killer is top of his game and he has a contract to fulfil. He knows the man who hires him will want blood if he fails.”

  C
hapter Twenty-three

  Meeting over, Harry and Jess returned to their car, stunned by what they’d just learned. They sat in silence for a few minutes.

  “Not what I expected to hear,” Jess said, eventually.

  “Me neither. I genuinely thought Weeks would steal the case from under our noses. Instead, he’s given us a lot to think about.”

  “I hadn’t considered it, but given what we know, a paid killer makes sense. But then what do we do about Calvert?” Jess asked.

  “Weeks said to leave him, so for now he’s his,” Harry said.

  “And the Scottish villain? Do you have any ideas on that one? You had that weird look on your face when Parkinson asked.”

  “Like I said, I can’t think of anyone in particular. Anyway, we’ve enough to think about with our own killer, without adding more to the mix. I’m more interested in the fact that Dean and Nadia both worked at hotels owned by Calvert, and Roebuck’s job took him there. The Commodore and the Metropole will get a visit.” Harry started up and pulled out of the station car park. “Hopefully, we’ll find this character Roebuck still alive. I’ll get Col on it. He can ring the laundry company and get his address.”

  “If the killer hasn’t got to him first,” Jess said. “Though if Roebuck’s lucky, the killer will still be looking for Lana. He’ll be under pressure from Calvert to get that job done. I hope they’re keeping security around her tight and she’s playing by the rules.”

  “We’ll pay her a visit on our way back to the station,” Harry said. “We can remind her and while we’re at it, let her know we’ve discussed her sister’s involvement with the drugs. She needs to talk to us, Jess. That young woman has kept important information back. If she does know where that heroin is, Calvert will go to any length to get it back and that ups the pressure on us all.”

  “I’ll ring Col and get him to look for Roebuck,” Jess said. “Lana needs to be a deal more candid with us, be made to understand how serious this is.”

  “We asked her if she knew who Nadia was working for and she lied to us,” Harry said. “She said the man was a loan shark, not a big-time dealer. She knows the danger. I don’t understand what she’s playing at.”

  “She doesn’t want us getting too close to the truth.”

  “My thoughts exactly, Jessie. I believe that young woman knows exactly what happened to the heroin and has plans for it.”

  * * *

  Lana was in a safe house some ten miles outside Ryebridge. The location known only by Harry, Jess, the family liaison officer and the two officers posted on guard duty. The FLO let them in. She wasn’t smiling.

  “I’m sick of being stuck here with that woman,” she complained. “Lana seems to think I’m some sort of slave. She can’t cook, can’t even hang up her own clothes. This one’s a right selfish cow and no mistake. She expects me to run around at her beck and call all day long.”

  “Well, we’ve got new information. She tells us the truth and you won’t be stuck here much longer. We’re doing all we can to find the killer and whoever hired him,” Harry said. “Meanwhile, like her or not, we must put Lana first and not forget she’s in grave danger.”

  Harry went through to the small sitting room to speak to Lana. Her expression said it all. She was no happier with the current arrangements than the FLO.

  She directed her gaze at him, her dark eyes flashing with anger. “How much longer? This is a complete waste of my time. I need to get back to London. I have work, engagements. My followers will wonder where I am.”

  She looked tired. Her face was drawn and she had dark circles under her eyes. Being locked away like this was really getting to her. “Your followers will have to wait, Lana,” Harry said gently. “We’re working hard to wrap this up, but we need your help. No more lies or holding back. The time has come for you to tell us the truth about Nadia, and then, perhaps, you’ll be able to return to your life.”

  She lowered her eyes and appeared to be considering this. But he’d spotted a small movement of her left hand. She’d just pushed a thin rectangle behind a cushion.

  “Is that a mobile?” he asked sharply. “You do remember what we said about contacting anyone or using social media?”

  “You don’t understand,” she wailed. “I need to be online, it’s how I earn a living. I have contracts to fulfil. My followers expect to see me, hear me.”

  “Give the damn thing here,” Harry demanded, holding out his hand. “You have a killer chasing you who is good at his job and is being paid to make sure he leaves you dead! How much of that don’t you understand, Lana?”

  “Sorry,” she said lamely. “I didn’t think the odd call or post would matter.”

  “Well, it does, and while we’re at it, why didn’t you tell me about the drugs your sister stole?”

  That threw her. She stared wide-eyed at Harry. “Because I prefer to forget about it. Nadia made a mistake, she got involved with a bad man. How d’you know about that anyway?”

  “Nadia was working in the hotel the drugs went missing from, but you knew that. She stole a fortune in heroin. I also think you know what happened to it.”

  “You’re demented. My sister did no such thing!”

  “Yes, she did. That’s why she died, and why you’re here. It’s the reason a killer is chasing you right now. The man that stuff belongs to wants it back and he thinks you can help him with that.”

  Lana folded her arms, a look of defiance on her face. “That’s all wrong. You haven’t got the first idea.”

  “Then tell me. Tell me about the drugs and how Nadia got involved. We’re not going to sort this, Lana, unless you’re honest with me.”

  She sighed. “It was a mistake. Nadia saw an opportunity and took it. I don’t blame her — working in that hotel was nothing short of slave labour. Nadia was sick of being picked on, of having to work every day until she dropped.”

  “She took the drugs from the man who delivered them. Why would she do that? Nadia must have realised how dangerous that was,” Jess said.

  “She was desperate and afraid. Nadia had nothing and no chance of getting away from that place. She couldn’t cope anymore, just wanted to get away, disappear. I said I would help, give her money, but she said no. I think she wanted a new life entirely, somewhere far away where she’d never be found. The drugs were her way out.”

  “Did she have help?”

  “There is a man who delivers laundry to the hotel. He offered to help her for a fee. He knew people who would take the drugs to sell on. He promised to get Nadia a good price.”

  Roebuck. The one the Manchester people had mentioned.

  “When Nadia’s boss found out, he was angry. He demanded his stuff back. He rang her on her mobile the night she ran off, ranting and raving about what he’d do. She swore she knew nothing, but he didn’t believe her. Then Nadia confessed that she’d already sold the drugs.”

  “Did she say who to?” Jess asked.

  “This man — Roebuck. Shortly after that, she was found dead. My sister wasn’t the innocent she appeared to be, Inspector. She mixed with some shady people but still, she didn’t deserve to die.”

  “The heroin was never found. Did she give it to Roebuck, or to you?” Harry asked.

  Lana looked annoyed. “Me? No, of course not. I hadn’t seen Nadia for weeks.”

  “Are you sure? You have to tell me the truth.”

  “We spoke on the phone, that’s all. I did not help her, and I have no idea where the drugs are.”

  Lana looked away towards the window, avoiding Harry’s gaze. She was lying.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  They walked back to the car in silence. “You don’t believe her, do you?” Jess said after a while.

  “No. I’ll lay odds Lana knows exactly where that heroin is. Although why she’s hanging on to it is a mystery. She knows full well that Calvert won’t stop until he gets it back.”

  “If she won’t talk, there’s not a lot we can do.”

  �
��At least we know she’s not going anywhere. When we get back to the station, find out what she was up to online,” Harry said.

  Meanwhile, Colin had phoned the laundry company and got an address for Roebuck, but when he went round he found the property had been empty for several months. Back in the office, he trawled through the electoral roll and other council records but found nothing.

  “The address the hotel gave me drew a blank,” he told them when they got back. “I’ve done a search and found two people with the name Roebuck in Ryebridge,” he said. “One’s an elderly woman in a care home, she’s no family and neither had her husband. The other’s a woman who used to live on the Baxendale but has long since moved away. I’m stumped. I don’t know where else to look.”

  “Living under the radar? Visiting, bunking up on a friend’s sofa?” Jess suggested. “He’s out there somewhere, has to be. Dean had him on his wall and Weeks knows about him too.”

  “Keep at it, Col,” Harry said.

  “How did the meeting at the city nick go?”

  “Interesting,” Harry told him. “We’re now part of the Songbird operation. Heard of that?”

  Colin nodded. “It’s been mentioned in the odd newsletter. Something to do with drug dealing I believe.”

  “Indeed, and our victims are involved up to their necks.”

  “Weeks is happy for us to carry on?” Colin asked.

  “He appears to be, although that could change at any time. It depends what we find.” Harry knew that if they got close to proving that Calvert was behind the drug dealing, Weeks would step in and claim the glory.

  Jess sat at her desk and rang Lana’s mobile provider. They promised to email details of what she’d been up to these last few days within the hour. She checked the messages on her desk — Dean’s phone data was through too. “Dean Greenwood didn’t ring many numbers,” she told the others. “I recognise his mother’s landline but there’s a mobile number he rang a lot.”

  Colin had a list a names, addresses and phone numbers associated with the case, so he took Jess’s list and checked it against his. “Thea Connor,” he announced. “He rang her almost every day, sometimes three or four times.”