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

by HELEN H. DURRANT

  “We need another word with that young lady. She made out that her and Dean weren’t that close. Another one who can’t stop herself from lying.” Harry was getting fed up with this. None of the people they spoke to was telling the truth. If she and Dean were close, why hadn’t Thea just said so?

  Colin was frustrated and it was getting late. “You get off, Col,” he told him. “I won’t be long. Do us some tea, that casserole you made yesterday will go down nicely.”

  As soon as Colin was out of the office, Jess burst into giggles. “He’s not your bloody housekeeper you know! Do us some tea,” she snorted. “And he makes casserole. You’re a right pair.”

  “He’s very well organised. Likes to lead an ordered life, which happens to include sorting the meal we’ll eat the following day,” Harry said. “He’s a good cook too, but you’re right, he is a bit, well, too organised for me. Living with Col has come as a shock to my system.”

  “That’s because you’re a slob, Lennox. I’m just glad you’re Col’s problem and not mine. There’s no way I’d want you anywhere near my new place. I pick up the keys on Friday and move into my new house this weekend. Then it’s independence here I come.”

  “Worked out the finances?” Harry asked. “You know, you were wondering how you’d afford the bills, the mortgage and the like.”

  “I’m taking your advice and looking for a lodger. I’ve got a couple of girlfriends in mind. I’m sure one of them will be up for it.”

  He grinned. “There’s always me, Jessie. At a push I could be persuaded.”

  “I thought we’d just discussed that one. You’d be a nightmare, Harry Lennox. My bright shiny new house wouldn’t stay that way for long with you around.”

  “You’re wrong there. I’m as quiet as a mouse and tidy too. Ask Col.”

  * * *

  Colin noticed the youths as he parked his car. Two lads, hoods up, milling around the apartment block he lived in. A second or two later he saw Hugh pull up and briefcase in hand, leave his vehicle and make for the entrance. The youths were watching. As Hugh took the steps up to the door, they dived forward and wrestled him to the ground. Colin was out of his car in a flash and running to his neighbour’s aid.

  “What the hell are you doing?” he shouted. “Leave him! I’m police.”

  By now the pair were all over Hugh, punching his face and kicking at his body. Colin didn’t hold back. He threw himself into the fray, grabbing one of them by the hair and chucking him off. It gave Hugh the chance he needed to get to his feet. He managed to land a punch before the pair ran off, grabbing Hugh’s briefcase as they went.

  “Thieving bastards,” Hugh said angrily, wiping his face.

  “You’re bleeding. Looks like a bust lip.” Colin handed him a hankie. “You’re bruised about the face too. Want to go and get checked out?”

  “It’s okay, no fuss. I’ll tend to myself inside. A stiff whisky and then a shower should do the trick.”

  “You sure? You hit the floor with a bang. You might have a head injury.”

  “I’m fine, really. I’m more concerned about the loss of my briefcase.”

  “I’ll report it straight away, both the theft and the assault. Uniform might find it discarded somewhere.” His friend had had a narrow escape. If he hadn’t been there, they could have done Hugh some serious damage. “Would you recognise them again?”

  “Ever the copper, aren’t you, Col?” Hugh smiled. “I’ll give a statement but I don’t recall much — hoodies, gloves and young, that’s about it.”

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Jess left the station late, having stayed behind to go through the data from Dean’s mobile again. She was looking for anything that would help move the case along, but apart from the frequent calls to Thea, there was nothing. A wasted effort, especially when in a week’s time she was moving out of her parents’ home and had a million things to do. She was making her way to her car when she heard someone call out to her.

  “DS Wilde! Jess? I wonder if I could have a word.”

  She spun round to see a dark-haired woman hurrying towards her with a friendly smile. Her accent was Scottish, so she had to be the woman who’d come to see Harry.

  “You’re Harry’s friend, aren’t you?” Jess said. A chat with this woman might give her answers to some of those questions she had regarding Harry, but did she really have the energy right now? Jess was tired and all she wanted was to get home.

  “My name’s Isla, and yes I am his friend, although you’d never know it. He’s refusing to speak to me.”

  “We’ve got a tough case on our hands,” Jess explained. “He’s preoccupied, that’s all.”

  “No, that’s not it,” the woman said firmly. “I know him. He may not have told you, but I used to be a DS on the same team as Harry in Glasgow. This man you work with is afraid that if he talks to me I’ll guess the truth about him.”

  “Truth? What truth would that be?” Jess prickled. She was in no mood for an argument with anyone, and anyway, what did this woman hope to get from her?

  “The truth about who he is, the truth about his past. Working with someone in our sort of job, you get close, learn a lot about each other. You see, I was engaged to Paul Lennox.”

  This woman knew things, she probably knew Harry better than her, but when it came down to it, did Jess really want to know? What did it matter anyway? Harry was okay. He was good to work with and he got the job done. If there was some huge secret, perhaps it was better to keep it that way.

  “Okay, tell me what you want to say, only I’m not up for a slag off Harry session,” Jess warned.

  Isla gave her a long hard look. “You really haven’t worked it out, have you? Surely Sandy Munroe must have told you his theory? Harry’s dead.”

  That said, she spun round and walked off into the night. Seconds later, she stopped and turned back. “And if the man you’re working with thinks he can spin this elaborate fairy tale and hide from Salton for ever, he’s wrong!”

  Jess couldn’t process this. “Hang on!” she shouted. “You can’t say something like that and just walk away. What proof d’you have?”

  Isla stared back at Jess. “I was engaged to Paul. I know him, know the little mannerisms, the marks on his face and the scar on his wrist he got falling when collecting shells with me.”

  “You’re wrong. You base this wild theory on one scar,” Jess was surprised. “Harry’s hands and arms are covered in scars, the fire, remember. The man I work with is a damn good detective. He knows the job, and he works hard and that’s who he is. Paul wasn’t like that. Harry told me he was one for the easy life. Believe me, there’s nothing easy about what we do.” This didn’t impress Isla one bit.

  “Tell Harry from me that he can’t hide for ever. One day Salton will find him and he’ll know straight away who the man you work with really is.”

  Why?” said Jess. “If you’re telling the truth, what possible reason would Paul have for pretending to be his brother?”

  “He’s trying to save his skin, to disappear and not be found.”

  “If that was really what he wanted, why continue to work as a detective? Granted Ryebridge is no city nick, but Harry’d be easily found if you were determined. And what would Salton want with Harry anyway? I work with him, he’s good at his job. I’d know if he was a fraud.”

  “True, Paul could be feckless but he’s clever,” Isla Stewart said. “Harry told his brother a lot about the job. They discussed cases and Paul often came up with good ideas of his own.” She paused. “Is what I’ve told you really so inconceivable?”

  “Yes, it is,” Jess said decisively. “You see, you’ve forgotten something. The Harry I know checks out on the police database, both DNA and fingerprint-wise. There is no mistake. This idea you have in your head is sheer fantasy.”

  “D’you know why he stole his brother’s life?” Isla said. Jess shook her head. “Because he’s afraid. Salton blames Paul for the death of his son. Paul and Josh Salton h
ad been friends since school. I warned Paul to back off, told him the Salton family was poison, but he took no notice. One night, the pair were out and they both got drunk. Josh owned a sports car and despite all advice, he insisted on driving them home. They were both boozed up to the hilt and Josh was also high on heroin.” Isla gave a bitter laugh. “Paul had grown close to the Salton clan. He saw them as a way out of his problems. Paul’s house-painting business wasn’t going well. He sold his car and anything else he could get his hands on, including my jewellery, to get the stake money together to join Salton in a robbery. He really was a first-class idiot!”

  “What happened?” asked Jess.

  “On the way home, Josh Salton lost control of the car. It left the road and Josh was killed outright — went through the windscreen. Paul climbed out of the car without a scratch on him.”

  “What about the police?”

  “Paul was a passenger and although he was drunk, he hadn’t taken any drugs. Josh Salton got the blame. His father swore to get even with the Lennox family. He believed Paul was entirely responsible for what happened, maintaining that Paul should have stopped Josh, got them a taxi, anything other than let him drive. Paul tried to explain. He still wanted to be part of the robbery, but Salton said no. Paul told Harry about the villain’s plans and Salton and his crew were arrested. As is the way with Salton, there was insufficient evidence to send him down for long. The main trail led back to Josh, and he was dead. The robbery never happened, and Josh Salton was branded as being every bit as bad as his father. Salton got a few months and while he was inside, he planned how to deal with the Lennox family.”

  “Salton’s revenge was the house fire and the deaths,” Jess said.

  “He made an example of Paul’s family, simple as that.”

  “Does Salton believe Paul is dead, or is he deluded enough to think the same as you?”

  “At first, he believed that Paul died in the fire with his father, but I have information that he now thinks differently. Paul — or Harry, as you know him — won’t speak to me, so I’m begging you to warn him because Salton won’t let this drop.”

  Jess shook her head. “Sorry, I can’t accept any of this. What you’ve told me is sheer nonsense. The man I work with is a CID officer, not a painter and decorator masquerading as one. I know that Harry doesn’t want Salton finding him but after what happened, that’s understandable.” She moved closer to Isla Stewart and looked her straight in the eye. “And he doesn’t need you coming here stirring up old memories. Harry’s life is complicated enough as it is.”

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Day Five

  Thea Connor was terrified. She’d lain awake all night thinking about the cameras and decided there was only one explanation. Someone had taken out the SD cards, and that must have been the killer.

  Thea’s instinct was to flee. But that wouldn’t work. Her dad would be on her tail in no time. She might be allowed to come and go as she pleased, but she always had to be home at night. Thea needed an interim plan until she worked something out.

  Meanwhile, Thea decided the best thing to do was continue her normal life. Go to school, do her hours at the Metropole. That way, no one would notice anything was wrong, but more important, she’d be with people. The last thing she wanted right now was to be alone.

  It was half term and she’d agreed to put in extra hours at the hotel. Agnes Wright had a job in the office she wanted doing. It was usually quiet in there and it would give Thea time to think. She desperately needed a plan.

  Thea was a nervous wreck. She felt too sick to eat, and yesterday had done nothing but lie in bed thinking about her predicament. The big question, the one that plagued her most — did he know who she was? Another problem was Roebuck. There’d been nothing on the local news or in the press about a body being found on the Baxendale. That had to mean one thing — Roebuck was still lying where she’d last seen him. Dead on his sitting room floor.

  And how could the killer know who she was? She’d been careful, worn dark clothing and pulled her hood down low over her face. Even if she’d been caught on camera, it would be hard to tell if she was even male or female.

  Besides, her situation was very different from Dean’s. The idiot had made himself known to the killer, been upfront, even agreed to meet him. No, weighing up the odds, she reckoned she was safe. But how to stay that way? Hiding would get her nowhere. Anyway, it wasn’t possible. She had a shift at the hotel. Best thing — just get on with it. She’d be with people and her dad would pick her up after work.

  She was about to leave the house when her mobile rang. She glanced at the screen — a number she didn’t recognise. Thea should have given it more thought, but she didn’t. “Yeah?” she said, balancing the phone under her chin while she gathered her things for work.

  “You’ve been meddling in things that don’t concern you.”

  Thea dropped what she’d been holding and pressed the mobile tight against her ear. It was him. Had to be. She heard the menace in his tone. “Sod off,” she spat. “Give me any trouble and you’ll get twice as much back.” Bravado. Thea stood, trembling. This was a vicious killer and she was no match.

  “A feisty one, eh? But taking me on is not a good idea. I know what you did, Thea, and I’m watching you.”

  Her stomach turned over. Was he outside, waiting to strike as she went for the bus? “I know what you did. I’ll go to the police, tell them everything.”

  “Everything?” He laughed. “You have nothing. They won’t listen.”

  “Oh, they will, don’t you worry. There’s a detective on the case who’ll hang onto my every word.”

  “Ah, the resourceful DI Lennox.” He paused for a moment. “I have a better idea, Thea. Let’s meet. Discuss terms. That is what you want, isn’t it? To blackmail me?”

  That had been Dean’s idea. Is this what happened to him? Had the killer lured him to a meeting, late at night, in a lonely spot, and then knifed him? “How did you find me?”

  “I’m an expert, Thea. You . . . you’re a mere kid chancing her luck. I have Dean’s mobile. You were practically the only person he called, apart from his mother. You didn’t factor that in, did you? Very careless. Shame it has to end this way. I admire you — you took risks, almost got what you wanted. The camera idea was inspired — the images are first class by the way — but you still wouldn’t have got me to pay up. I’d have killed you first. On the other hand if you’d taken them to the police, I wouldn’t have stood a chance, they’d have recognised me at once.”

  “Leave me alone. There’s no harm done. You’re right, I have no proof and no idea who you are.”

  “What? Didn’t Dean tell you?”

  “No, he didn’t.”

  “Okay, in that case we’ll call this a warning. But interfere in my business again and you’ll end up like Dean.”

  Thea sighed with relief. It looked like he’d seen sense and would let her live. Now she thought she was off the hook, curiosity got the better of her. “How did you know about the cameras?”

  “I didn’t. Not until I had a fight with Roebuck. He hit me and drew blood. I would have cleaned up straight away — wouldn’t want to leave any DNA for the police, that would make things too easy. But the busybody in the flat upstairs was alerted by the noise and started to shout. I left, turned out the lights and returned later when it was quiet again. You obviously didn’t see me, the place was in darkness. Luckily for me the camera in the sitting room had been knocked over in the fight. Neat little gadget, full marks to you. I picked it up, realised what it was, removed the SD card and put the camera back where you’d left it. I searched the rest of the house and found the others. Unlucky for you that fight, your plan almost came off. But that’s how things work out sometimes.”

  “Did you see me then, that night?”

  “Yes, and I would have taken you out too, but you walked off with those teenagers. If you hadn’t, you’d have been found the following morning, dead in a gutter on t
he Baxendale.”

  The call ended. Thea stood there for a while. She was scared witless. Was she safe or not? She certainly didn’t trust him. She locked the front and back doors and went up to her room. She needed to think. This man was a real threat. For two pins, he’d kill her. She went over their conversation in her head, and then something struck her. He’d said the police would recognise him from the images caught on camera. That meant he was known to them. Perhaps she could use that. One thing was certain, Thea needed this man out of her life for good. Almost an hour and several mugs of coffee later, Thea had worked out a plan of sorts to trap him. It was risky, he was obviously no fool so whatever she said would have to be good. She called him back.

  “I have to know where I stand. You killed Dean and you could easily kill me.”

  “You’re right, but there’s nothing you can do about it.”

  “What if there was? What if I could help you in some way, in return for you promising to leave me alone?”

  “How?”

  “I won’t go to the police. I won’t tell them what I know.” There was no response, so she ploughed on. “You’d be daft to refuse my offer. Dean told me things about the set-up. He said that everything you do is arranged anonymously using a website and burner phones. He also said that you’ve never met him, this man who hires you to kill. That doesn’t seem fair to me.” She paused for a moment to let him think about this. “Then there’s the danger. Suppose he decides to have a change, hire someone else? You’ll be first on the hit list. Is that a risk worth taking? I don’t think so.”

  “You could be right. You’re a bright girl, Thea. But he’s at just as much risk as me. I could take him out first.”

  “Dean said you’d never get close.”

  A longer silence followed. Finally, he said, “I think you and me might strike a deal.”

  “Good decision. You get peace of mind and I get the money I was after, plus your promise to leave me alone. What d’you say?”