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

by HELEN H. DURRANT

  “You are up to the task, Harry. And Emira likes you. Gain her trust, be her friend. She is very much under the thumb of her brother, and that troubles her.” Edge nodded. “Something for you to work on.”

  Chapter Forty-one

  Harry was back in the main office. “Sorry I’m a bit late,” he said.

  “A bit late? And that’s it, is it?” Jess hissed. “Where the hell did you get to? I hung around yours for ages. I tried Don’s door but I couldn’t raise you.”

  “Like I said, I’m sorry, Jess. I’m still not feeling right.”

  “You’re a bloody disgrace,” she whispered. “And don’t think I’m taking the flak for your sloppiness. You need to get your act together, Lennox.”

  If only she knew. Soon the gossip about him around the office would be much worse. He looked at the pile of paperwork on her desk. “What have you been up to anyway?”

  Jess let out a deep sigh. “Do you want a blow-by-blow account or the skinny version?”

  “Just the facts, Jess,” he said.

  “People trafficking. How does that grab you for a fact?”

  Harry was stunned. This wasn’t good. How had she got a handle on it so quick?

  “That’s what this is about,” she said firmly. “The container, the need for accommodation and probably the factory too. Today, Vance and I watched about twenty females being taken away in a minibus from Kelsey’s old house. What’s the betting they’ve been put to work in Andy’s place with no pay, awful conditions and made to keep at it until they drop?”

  “How did you discover this?” Harry asked.

  “Me and Vance paid Babs Milton a visit. She had a visitor, a rough-looking bloke, the type you wouldn’t take on unless you had a death wish. We followed him and watched what happened.”

  “Perhaps it was simply a works bus picking people up,” he said, knowing how lame that sounded.

  “No, Harry.” She was annoyed at his attitude. He should be pleased that they’d made some progress. “Some of the women had their hands tied. Take my word for it, they’re being forced to work and when they’re not slogging away, they’re being held prisoner.”

  “Did you follow the minibus?” he asked.

  “No. Chances are we’d have been seen and I didn’t want to risk the women’s safety. But it’s easy enough to check out. Get a warrant and we’ll search that factory, the houses too.”

  She was right, that was the correct thing to do. But he couldn’t, not and keep Emira sweet. “Not yet. We need more evidence.”

  Jess stared at him. “What has happened to you? This isn’t the Harry Lennox I know. The old you would be over there straight away and turning that place upside down.”

  “I’m working on another theory,” he said.

  “Care to share?”

  “Not just yet, Jess.”

  “Hettie’s been on, that brown envelope gave us nothing new print wise. Whoever handled it apart from Ryan must have worn gloves.”

  He left her and went in search of painkillers — the pack in his desk drawer was empty. That meant going down to the canteen. While he was there, he’d have a mug of coffee and a quiet think. Working for Marcus Edge was all very well, but it wasn’t soothing his nerves any.

  His mobile rang. It was Sandy. “Hi,” Harry said. “Get home okay?”

  “Yes, fine, laddie, and I’ve had a bit of luck. While I was away, another team in the station brought in a cohort of our friends. One of them is willing to strike a deal and he gave us some information. He confirmed that Salton is holed up on the Isle of Barra and running his operation from there.”

  “That’s a bit far out. Why go there?” Harry asked.

  “It is, but it does have a regular air service linking it to the mainland. He can be in Glasgow and back within hours. It’s like I said, he’ll be setting up an alibi. No one has ever been able to pin much on the man and he doesn’t want it to start now. He’s supposedly refurbishing a croft.”

  “A croft! That doesn’t sound like Salton at all.”

  “My source is certain. Salton was in touch with his family just last week.”

  “Thanks, Sandy. I’ll be in touch.”

  As he’d suspected and Edge had said, Salton was alive and well and still plotting. But was he behind what was going on here? Had to be. What had happened to McBain was proof of that. But where did that leave him?

  * * *

  “What’s wrong with him?” Jess stared after him as he left the room. She couldn’t understand Harry’s reluctance to do what was right. “Colin, have you got anything from that film you took today?”

  “The individual photos are a bit blurred — we were a distance away. But look at this.”

  Jess leaned over his computer screen. The video Colin had taken was sharp enough, particularly a shot of one of the women leaving the house and getting into the minibus.

  “It’s her, the blonde,” he said, pointing to the image. “She was all over the papers, remember? She’s thinner and the hair’s grown but I reckon that’s Tracy Buckton.”

  Jess shook her head. She was none the wiser.

  “Daughter of Sir Ralph Buckton. She went missing last year while off backpacking. Got as far as Istanbul airport and was never seen again. You must recognise her, her photo has been on the noticeboard for months.”

  Jess felt such a fool. He was right. There was tons of stuff on that board, some important, some not, but usually it was just a blur of information and faces as she entered the office each morning. “Are you sure it’s her?”

  Colin enlarged the frame. “It’s her all right. The case was headline news. I was just starting my career in CID at the time and for some reason, it grabbed me, so I followed it.”

  “This could be the break we need. If it is Tracy, she can give us valuable information. Get the file from the system. Let’s have a proper look. And get stills from that piece of film printed out and blown up.” She smiled. “I think you’ve got something here. Harry can’t ignore this.”

  Chapter Forty-two

  Harry had to get word to Emira. Whether she liked it or not, he would have to follow up

  what Jess had told him about the factory, the house, and the women. Emira wouldn’t like it, but if he was to keep his job, his reputation and continue to be useful to her, she would have to agree.

  But first, he went out into the station car park and rang Marcus Edge for his advice. “There have been developments,” he began. “My sergeant was at the Baxendale estate this morning and observed a group of women being taken away from one of the houses in a minibus. She wants me to organise a search of those houses as well as the factory.”

  “You have no choice, Harry. You’ll have to get a warrant and do it. Contact Emira first and alert her so that she has time to empty them.” He cleared his throat. “It’s important that you behave normally, or your colleagues will suspect something. I’ll be in touch. And if I may, I suggest you use this as an opportunity to get Emira on your side. She’ll take it as a measure of your commitment and be grateful for your warning. She’ll probably want to reward you. Make that work for you, Harry, invite her out, get to know her. We don’t have a lot of time and we want that name. These shipments of people won’t stop until we catch him. This week you’re dealing with twenty women, next week there’ll be twenty more, and you are just one small area. This is going on across the whole country, and we don’t have the resources to keep tabs on it all.”

  But Harry wasn’t happy with the arrangement. “I’m concerned about those women’s safety, Marcus. They’re on my patch, and they’re my responsibility. Emira will have to hide them, and she may take risks with their lives. I’m not prepared to go along with that.”

  “Those women are worth money to Emira and her people. Believe me, they won’t want any harm coming to them. But to be sure, I’ll organise a watch on them.”

  Fair enough, if that’s what Edge wanted. Harry took the scrap of paper Emira had given him from his pocket and called her
.

  “Harry, what is this? I told you to ring me only in an emergency.”

  “We have a situation, so listen up. We are about to search the factory and those houses you’re using on the Baxendale. I don’t have any choice in this,” he lied. “The order has come from my superiors. You don’t have long to cover your tracks.”

  “Why has this happened?” she asked angrily.

  “One of your people has been a bit sloppy. Two of my colleagues saw him leaving Babs Milton’s place earlier today. They didn’t recognise him and were curious, so they followed him to a house we’re familiar with. They saw the women come out of there and get into a minibus.”

  Emira muttered something unintelligible, which Harry presumed was a curse. “I will have it organised at once. You have done well and will be rewarded.”

  “No, it’s okay. I don’t need a reward. I’d much rather have dinner with you tonight. We can get to know each other better. What d’you say?”

  “That is not my style. I do not socialise with my operatives,” she said.

  “What harm can it do? We could discuss how else I can help you. I’m a useful person to have on your side.”

  “You are a naughty man, Harry Lennox, but persuasive. I will consider it. If all goes well today, I will text and be at your place for eight.”

  Harry hurried back to the office and announced that they would do a blitz on the factory and the houses. “Get the warrant sorted,” he said to Vance.

  “We’ve found something else,” Jess told him. “Come and look at this.” She showed Harry the video footage of the women leaving Kelsey’s old house. “This is down to Colin, by the way, he spotted it, not me.” She froze the film and pointed at one of the women. “That’s Tracy Buckton, heiress to the Buckton fortune. She disappeared last year if you remember.”

  Harry peered at the image. Since talking to Marcus Edge he did, and he’d read the updates. Naturally, he was pleased they’d found her, but it added a further complication. “Good work. Just as well you went with your instincts and followed that bloke.”

  “I’ve explained the situation to the magistrate,” Colin said, phone in hand. “He’s happy to rush the warrant, so I can pick it up right now if you like.”

  “Great. We’ll organise the cavalry,” Harry said.

  “I’ve pulled the Buckton file,” Jess said. “It looks as though whoever took her knew she’d be on that particular flight and was waiting for her when she landed. Her father has never come out and said it, but what’s the betting he paid a huge sum of money to get her back. What d’you reckon?”

  “If he did the money went for nothing. Tracy was never returned. Her parents must have been distraught,” Harry said. “The updates amounted to very little. The girl disappeared off the face of the earth. It was suggested that she’d run away, perhaps with a boyfriend, but her parents refuted that.”

  “Sir Ralph has never given up. He appeals to her kidnappers on a regular basis, offering more money each time. For all we know, the kidnappers or traffickers could be bleeding him dry.”

  “This is grim, Jess. That girl obviously didn’t run away from home. She has been kept prisoner, and we can only guess at the conditions. The others too. The sooner we get them out, the better.”

  She smiled at him delightedly. “Thank goodness. That’s more like the Harry I know and love.”

  Chapter Forty-three

  Getting the warrant took longer than they’d expected. The magistrate was in court, hearing a case, so they had to wait. Finally, after an hour or so, Harry got the paperwork.

  By the time he brought it to the station, Jess was losing it. She had spent the entire hour pacing up and down the office.

  “We should have gone hours ago,” she complained.

  “Calm down, we needed the paperwork. We have to do it right. We’ll hit both targets at once, and armed support will back us up. These people aren’t playing games.”

  Jess nodded. “You take the factory, me and Colin will do the houses. But we’ll take the biggest number of officers, there are five houses to search.”

  “Okay by me,” Harry said.

  That meant he would be with a group of uniformed officers, which suited him fine. Any problems and they wouldn’t notice odd behaviour on his part. Whereas Jess definitely would.

  “The minute you’re clear, ring me,” Harry told her.

  A PC accompanied Harry in his car. He was keeping everything crossed that Emira had had enough time. And it looked as if she had. When they arrived, he was relieved to see the factory car park empty, with no sign of a minibus.

  “We need to get inside,” he said, and ran to the main door, banging on it hard. “Open up!”

  A PC approached carrying a battering ram. “Don’t worry, sir, we’ll soon have it open.”

  They were about to force their way in when they heard someone whistling inside. Seconds later, the doors swung open and a small woman wearing overalls stood looking up at them.

  “Give me a chance,” she said. “I was mopping the floor in the back room. What d’you want? There’s no one here but me.”

  The PC who’d come with Harry pushed past her. “There has to be. Where is the workforce? The women? We had solid information that they had been brought here.”

  Harry leaned back against the wall and sighed. “In point of fact, we didn’t. Our colleagues didn’t actually see that bus come here at all.”

  “Waste of time?” the PC said.

  “I reckon so.” Harry shrugged. “But we’ll have a quick look round while we’re here.”

  “Help yourselves, but there’s nowt to see. They’re still setting up,” the woman said. “They’re hoping to get started next week.”

  She acted the part well, Harry had to give her that. “And you are?”

  “Mildred Smith. I’ve been cleaning here since Mr Marsh’s day. I’m lucky, they’ve kept me on.”

  She was lying, Harry felt sure of it. “Okay, thanks. We’ll get on and leave you in peace.”

  And the factory was just as it had been — same machines, same layout. Emira had worked hard to get everything sorted in time.

  “Let’s hope the others have more luck,” Harry said.

  * * *

  Jess had the front doors of all five houses open within minutes of their arrival, and the uniformed officers quickly set about doing their search. Three were empty, stripped of all furniture and in a state of disrepair. The other two were obviously undergoing refurbishment.

  She stood in Kelsey’s former home and looked around her helplessly. “I don’t understand. We were here not long ago, yet these properties look as if they haven’t had anyone in them for ages.”

  “I’ve found this, ma’am. It was lying over a chair in the next room. It’s covered in mud and pongs a bit.” One of the PCs was holding out, at arm’s length, a tatty woollen jumper.

  “Bag it,” Jess said. “We might get DNA.” But she wasn’t hopeful. Most likely it had belonged to one of the homeless guys.

  “No sign of the trafficked girls,” Colin said. “What the hell’s happened?”

  “We know what we saw,” she said. “This isn’t right. There should be evidence of people living here. Beds, mattresses crammed into every spare inch of space. But there’s nothing.”

  “They’ve been tipped off,” Colin whispered. “What’s the betting it’s the same at the factory.”

  Jess was furious. How had this happened? They’d seen those women, they had video footage, so what had gone wrong?

  “Your mobile’s ringing,” Colin said.

  It was Harry. “There’s no one here but the cleaner and she’s no threat. You really should have followed that bus, Jess. This has been one huge waste of time.”

  “Same here. This is all wrong, Harry. We saw those women leave this house and get onto that bus. Where else could they have been taken?”

  “No idea, but not where you thought,” he said. “Not Marsh’s factory that’s for sure. I’m callin
g it.”

  Jess let out a groan of frustration. Had someone seen them earlier and tipped them off? Unlikely as it seemed, that was the only explanation, yet Jess wasn’t convinced. “Something’s wrong, Harry. We’ve been stitched up.”

  “Did you get anything at all from the houses?”

  “No, unless you count one mucky old jumper.”

  “Bad deal all round then. Meet me back at the station. We’ll have to file our reports and they won’t make comfortable reading for the higher-ups.”

  As far as Harry’s credibility with Emira was concerned, all was well, but he still had a huge problem. Jess had definitely seen those women. They weren’t here or in those houses, so what had happened to them? He could only hope that Edge had kept his word and knew where they’d been taken. And that Emira hadn’t done anything rash in her haste to clear up.

  Chapter Forty-four

  “We’re in luck, Rodders has left for the day,” Jess said.

  “So, we face the flak in the morning.” Harry shrugged. “To be honest, Jess, I’m too knackered to care right now. I’m calling it a day.”

  He grabbed his stuff and left. That could have been one tricky situation, but he’d managed to swerve it and stay in Emira’s good books. Would she turn up tonight? If she did, it was his chance to find out what she’d done with those women, and who was running the show.

  On his way back to the van, he got a text from Emira. Tonight was on. He needed to get himself ready, ensure he looked the part. There was a quiet little restaurant in Hurst that he’d earmarked as a likely contender. He’d been there before and not bumped into anyone from the station, which made it a perfect venue.

  Don was working away from home for the next couple of days, so he had the place to himself. He used Don’s shower and borrowed some of his more expensive clothes. Luckily, both men were the same size and Don had excellent taste. Studying his reflection in the full-length mirror, Harry had to admit he didn’t look half bad, even if he was his only fan.

  Walking back across the drive, he spotted Emira getting out of a black saloon. The driver, the same brute of a man who’d picked her up in the Crown the other night, was screaming at her and shaking his fist. Kamal, Harry presumed.