THE GUILTY MAN an absolutely gripping crime mystery with a massive twist (Detectives Lennox & Wilde Thrillers Book 1)

by HELEN H. DURRANT

  He nodded.

  “Good. Let me down and I’ll throw the book at you,” Harry said.

  “Where to next?” Jess asked as the door closed behind them.

  Harry checked the time on his mobile. Marsh’s factory would be closing about now, so they’d visit in the morning. “Another word with Caroline. Check if she’s remembered anything else since we last spoke. I’d also like to know why she felt the need to cheat on Nick.”

  “She didn’t though, did she? She bottled it and then the bloke left the country,” Jess said.

  Harry frowned. “That raises the question of what would have happened if the circumstances had been different. While I drive, would you check with Angela if the alibi Caroline gave for him checks out?”

  * * *

  Caroline Sutton was not happy to see the two detectives on her doorstep again, particularly when Harry brought up Bob Armstrong. “I’ve already told you about him,” she said. “There’s nothing I can add.”

  Jess nudged Harry and showed him her mobile screen. She’d just received a text from Angela at the station confirming that Armstrong had left for the USA when Caroline had said, and he hadn’t returned.

  “What intrigues me,” Harry began, “is why you would feel the need to stray in the first place. You told us you and Nick were happy. So why another man? I don’t understand.”

  Caroline hesitated. “What I told you was the truth, but there were cracks, and as the years went by, the deeper they became.” She dabbed at her eyes. “I was stupid, but I was grasping at an opportunity.”

  “Sorry, Caroline, I’m not with you. What are you getting at exactly?” Harry asked.

  “Have you got kids, Inspector?”

  Harry smiled. “God no, I’m barely grown up myself.”

  “Nick and I have none, and that has always been a problem for me. I really wanted children — two would have been perfect, one of each. But Nick was infertile, but it didn’t stop me longing for a child. A couple we know were in a similar situation, turned out that the infertility wasn’t as complete as they thought. They now have a handsome boy. That gave me hope.”

  The penny dropped. “You were hoping to get pregnant?” Harry asked. It was a bit extreme, but he supposed it was her biological clock ticking.

  “Put simply, yes,” Caroline said. “If I was lucky enough to become pregnant, I’d pass it off as Nick’s. Given our friend’s experience, he’d believe me.”

  “But he found out about Armstrong and that put paid to your plans?” Jess said.

  “Very much so. Now it looks as if I’ve lost Nick and any chance of having a child.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Day Five

  First thing the following morning, Harry and Jess met at the shopping mall café to discuss the case over breakfast.

  “I feel sorry for her now,” Jess admitted. “Fancy wanting kids when your husband is dead set against it. Must have done her head in. I’m not surprised she found another bloke.”

  “Yeah, but was it a motive to kill him?” Harry asked thoughtfully.

  “No. I doubt she’s capable.”

  “This morning we’ll visit the factory,” Harry said. “Speak to that Babs person, see what’s going on there and what instructions Nick left, if any.” He paused. “Are you listening at all?”

  “You’ve practically eaten the entire menu,” Jess said.

  He shrugged. “Missed my meal last night. Chippy was shut and I’ve no cooking facilities.”

  “You really do need to get sorted, Harry. You can’t continue like this. Your clothes look tatty, you’re living on junk food and I bet Don’s getting fed up of having that eyesore on his drive.”

  “He’s driven all over Europe in that ‘eyesore,’ as you call it,” he said.

  “It looks like it an’ all. Get a grip, Harry, sort a flat or better yet, think about buying a house.”

  “I don’t know if I’ll stay around that long. I’m easily bored.” He yawned as if to emphasise his words.

  Jess gave him a long, hard look. That wasn’t the real reason, she was certain. It seemed to her that he was constantly on the move because he was hiding something. Jess resolved that when she had a moment, she would find out what it was. She needed to have that chat with Anthea.

  “That factory of Marsh’s must be doing good business,” she said. “They sell to a number of online stores, the cheaper end mostly. They sell a wide range of stuff, very enterprising. They have to be giving the high street a run for their money.”

  “Motive, d’you think?” Harry asked. “Some irate dress shop owner who wants their trade back?”

  “Now you’re being stupid.”

  * * *

  Ryebridge Industrial Estate was a large rambling mix of workshops and small factories. Andy Marsh owned the biggest property with ample parking and a large loading bay.

  “The office is at the side over there,” Jess said, pointing. “Believe it or not I came here for a holiday job once, many moons ago when I was a student. I remember the woman who interviewed me was a right tartar. Sent me packing with a mouthful of obscenities and told me not to come back. Scared me stiff, she did. Put me off working big style.”

  “Didn’t you have an appointment?” Harry asked.

  “No, I thought I’d simply try my luck.”

  Harry parked up and looked at the building. “You rang yesterday, shut you said, looks like we’re out of luck today as well.”

  Jess got out of the car and tried the office door. It was locked tight, as was the main factory entrance and the loading bay. “I wonder if this is down to Lisa?”

  “I’ll ring and ask her. Odd though, they must have plenty of work on with that website to feed.” Harry tapped in Lisa’s number, but she didn’t pick up. “Answerphone. She must be busy in the shop. Let’s have a look round, see if we can find a security guard or someone.”

  Beckoning for Jess to follow him, he walked around to the back of the building. “There’s a door here, but again it’s locked up tight.” He banged on it hard, but no one answered.

  “Odd this. It’s a weekday, you’d think there’d be someone here, even if the boss isn’t around. This place should be going at full pelt,” Jess said. “And no Lisa, she’s not even answering her mobile.”

  But Harry wasn’t listening. He was on the phone to the station, talking to Angela. “I’ve got the address of Babs Milton, Andy’s PA. Let’s see if she knows what’s going on.”

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Babs Milton lived on the Baxendale, not far from Kelsey Green’s place. But unlike the tip Kelsey had lived in, Babs’s house was as neat as a new pin.

  “I knew there was summat up first thing this morning when I couldn’t get in.” She reached for a sheet of paper lying on the coffee table. “This was pinned to the main factory doors. Seems Andy’s sold the place — stupid bastard never said a word. There were forty of us working for him in that factory, good machinists too, and now every last one of us is out of work. I don’t know what Andy was thinking of.”

  Harry took the printed sheet and studied it. Short, simple and harsh. The factory had new owners and the services of all the present staff were no longer required. “Have you told Lisa?”

  “I rang, but got no answer, so I texted but I’ve had nothing back so far. I’ve also tried Andy, but his phone’s dead too.”

  “I’ll have to take this, it’s evidence,” Harry said. Before popping the sheet in an evidence bag, he took a photograph of it with his mobile. “By the way, Andy Marsh is missing.”

  “Missing? Andy? I don’t get it, unless he’s suffering from a guilty conscience. Something’s not right. Me and Andy, we have an understanding. I keep that place running like clockwork, stand for no nonsense. We turn out the goods, get them modelled, photographed and onto the website. We’re good, and we work hard. Andy wouldn’t just walk away without speaking to me, neither would he just sell on a whim.”

  “The business was profitable?” Jess asked.


  Babs waggled her hand. “So-so. In my opinion we sold too cheap. Some months we’d struggle to pay the bills. I know it really pissed Lisa off, she was constantly urging him to produce the more upmarket stuff and sell to the shops.”

  “But Andy didn’t agree?” Jess asked.

  “No, he was convinced that producing volume and selling cheap was the way to go. He wasn’t in the habit of taking advice from Lisa or anyone else.”

  “Has he said anything to you about selling in the last few weeks?” Jess continued.

  “No, but there’s this bloke been sniffing about — coming to the factory, demanding to speak to Andy. Got on his nerves he did, always turning up unannounced. But I can’t believe that Andy would cave in and sell to him. The idea is ludicrous.” Babs made a face. “Have you met Andy? He’s not a man you pester, believe me.”

  “Do you know who this stranger is?”

  “No, but I do know that the offer he made for the place was laughable.”

  “Could you describe him?” Jess asked.

  “He was a big bloke, ugly, and he may have been foreign. There was something about his accent, it certainly wasn’t local.”

  “Okay, thanks, Babs, we’ll probably need to talk to you again,” Jess said.

  Once they were back in the car, Harry said, “We need to speak to Lisa. See if she knows what happened at the factory.”

  “The shop?”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  * * *

  They parked in the multi-storey and while they were on their way down, Harry’s mobile rang. It was Hettie from the Reid.

  “I’ve got a result from the analysis we did of the debris found on Nick Sutton’s severed hand. Want to come in and discuss it?”

  “We’re on our way to have a word with Lisa Marsh right now, Hettie. We’ll be with you straight after.”

  “At last,” Jess said. “Let’s hope she has something we can use.”

  Harry half expected Lisa’s jewellery shop to be closed but it wasn’t. “You’re not answering calls,” he said as they walked through the door. “Is there a reason for that?”

  “I’m scared, that’s why. My nerves are shot. All the time I’m terrified you lot will ring to say you’ve found my Andy and I can’t bear it.”

  “We wouldn’t ring,” Harry said gently. “We wouldn’t do that to you, we’d come in person. Anyway, we haven’t found him yet, so he may still be alive. Don’t give up hope, Lisa.”

  She nodded, giving him a weak smile. “So, what d’you want then?”

  “D’you know about the factory?” he asked.

  She looked at them, her eyes wide. “What’s happened? Not trouble with the machinists? I couldn’t cope, not right now. Babs will have to deal with it.”

  “Babs tried to ring you. The factory has been sold. It’s locked up and this was left on the main doors,” He showed her his phone with the image of the printed sheet.

  Lisa seemed genuinely puzzled. “This isn’t right. Andy would never sell.”

  “D’you know who was looking to buy the place?”

  “There was a man, mithered Andy for weeks about selling to him, but he kept refusing. In the end he got angry and had security throw him out.” Lisa looked at the image again. “Give me a moment. I’m going to ring our solicitors.”

  She disappeared into the back room. When she reappeared, Lisa Marsh was as white as a sheet.

  “It’s true, the factory’s gone. Sold for the princely sum of one pound to a company called ‘Lancashire Holdings.’ Andy signed the transfer of shares agreement and our solicitor has the paperwork. He confirms that it is his signature, witnessed as well, and by Nick Sutton of all people. There’s nothing I can do.” She stared at them. “This is what got him taken, isn’t it, and why they did that . . . thing to him. They hurt him to make him sign that document.”

  Chapter Twenty-two

  “She might be right,” Jess said as Harry drove them to the Reid. “Marsh is tortured and made to sign the business over.”

  Harry shook his head. “It’s a reasonable business, makes money some of the time but it’s hardly worth killing for. It’s a helluva risk to take, and I don’t understand why they’d want it that bad. And who are Lancashire Holdings anyway?”

  “I’m on it,” she said. “D’you know, I hate surfing on my phone. I can never find what I want. I’ll have a proper look on the Companies House website when I get back to the station.”

  “I don’t know the name,” Harry said. “It certainly gives nothing away. What’s bothering me is first Nick and now Andy, and the same method with both. They want the factory from Andy, but what do they want from Nick? Any ideas?”

  “Not the car business. I’m sure Craig would have said something if that was the case,” Jess said.

  “That just leaves the houses on the estate. What d’you reckon?” Harry said.

  “A bunch of rundown properties on the worst estate around. Surely no one would want them,” Jess said.

  “How many properties are there?” Harry asked.

  “Five I think, I’ll check later.”

  “Let’s see what Hettie’s come up with and go from there,” he said.

  Dr Hettie Trent greeted them with a smile. “The traces of blood and flesh on Sutton’s cut hand were from a variety of sources, one of them being Andy Marsh.”

  So, the killer had used the same tool on both. Perhaps he even had them imprisoned together. “Who else?” Harry asked.

  “Most had no match on the database,” she said. “Apart from Marsh, the only other positive match was a man called Callum McBain.”

  Harry turned pale. His breath caught in his throat. Had he heard right? “Sorry? Who?”

  “Callum McBain,” Hettie repeated.

  He felt as if he’d been punched in the guts. His demons were back, risen up from the place he’d banished them to. Callum McBain belonged to Harry’s past. He was a vicious killer Harry wanted to forget.

  “He’s not local,” Hettie continued. “I took the liberty of looking him up on the database. He was a villain from Glasgow, the police up there believe him to be dead. He was part of a large organised crime operation up in Scotland.”

  But Harry wasn’t listening. The name Callum McBain was still ringing in his ears. It had tripped off Hettie’s tongue so easily, as if it meant nothing at all, but it had left Harry gasping for air. He’d not heard that name or that of anyone connected with that world in a long while, and he was totally unprepared to hear it now. Why hadn’t Sandy warned him? If McBain was dead, that meant only one thing. He’d crossed his arch rival once too often. But what was the connection with the case here in Ryebridge? Did it mean the man who haunted Harry’s nightmares had found him? Was this a warning? He felt sick.

  Harry couldn’t think straight. He was floored. No way could he hang around and wait to hear who else Hettie might dredge up. He needed to be outside and alone. Leaving the others gaping, Harry dashed off through the main doors.

  Outside, he threw up. Had Mungo Salton found him? It wouldn’t be difficult, he had enough contacts. Was he on his patch right now, orchestrating events? Had he killed Sutton and Marsh to taunt him? Finding bits of McBain on the hand was possibly no accident. The last thing Harry needed was the past dragging up. The horror of what had happened three years ago was enough to live with without having it thrust down his throat by people mentioning familiar names — or worse, seeing familiar faces.

  Wasn’t it punishment enough that he had to carry the memory of it with him, seared into his mind’s eye? It never left him, the image of that building engulfed in flames. He could even smell the smoke. Worst of all were his brother’s screams. He could hear them too, they followed him everywhere. Harry looked down at his scarred hands and began to weep. Why hadn’t he been able to save him? Why?

  * * *

  “What happened to you?” Jess asked when he returned ten minutes later, still pale.

  “Sorry about that. Dodgy sausage at breakfas
t I reckon.” He caught sight of Jess winking at Hettie. They’d obviously been talking about him.

  “I’ll compile the report and put it on the system,” Hettie said.

  Jess grabbed his arm. “C’mon, let’s get you some water and summat for that stomach.”

  “I’m fine, honest. Just got caught short, that’s all.”

  “I had the sausages too and I’m fine,” she said.

  “I got unlucky. It happens.”

  * * *

  They were back at the car, with Jess at the wheel. “Want to talk? There’s obviously something going on with you. That name, Callum McBain, you recognised it, didn’t you? Don’t lie to me. Who is he?”

  “You’re wrong, I’ve never heard of him. I was about to throw up my breakfast and needed to get outside. No mystery, Jess.”

  But Jess believed different. This was typical of Harry. He knew the name all right, and she guessed he knew the man too. But she couldn’t help him if he refused to confide in her.

  “What now? Back to the station? Find out more about McBain?” she said.

  Harry had no choice. Much as he wanted to forget all about the man, they had to deal with the evidence Hettie had uncovered. “You do that. I’ll look into Lancashire Holdings.”

  “What’s the betting they’re connected? Have to be. The man who did that to McBain did the same to Nick and Andy. It’ll be him, whoever he is, that bought the factory, I’ll lay money on it. D’you have any names to offer up?”

  God, he hoped she wasn’t right, but the evidence was there.

  “Go on, names, you must have some idea.”

  Only one and it was raging through his head. But no way could Harry say it, not yet. “We can’t be certain of anything until we find the bodies,” he said, looking away.

  “You think they’re definitely dead then?”

  “Oh yes. If McBain’s people are involved, there’s no doubt about it. As for McBain himself, he must have crossed the boss to end up like Sutton and Marsh.”