He smashed a fist across the young man’s jaw and he slumped out of Eva’s hands, totally unconscious.
“Oh, great. Now how are we going to find out?”
“You can’t have all the fun, Eva. The way I see it, if we hit him a thousand times we’d still owe him another million before we got even.”
“At least we saved Luisa…”
“But unless we stop the other guy everyone else is still in danger.”
“Then what are we going to do?”
“Use our initiative.”
Dan produced the letters he’d stashed in his pocket and handed them to Eva.
“They will lead us to the killer. And if not EY64 will.”
“EY64?”
“You’ll see. We need to wrap this up here before we hand over to the boys in blue…”
“Why?” said Eva. She knew why. There were unseen players in this mess… and maybe she knew who at least one of them was.
“Because if there’s a chance of a cover up, that’s what this will be. If we could join all the dots on this one, who knows where it could end…” said Dan.
“Okay. But we can’t stay quiet for long…”
Crossing the line. Always crossing the line. When would they ever cross back?
Dan tapped the internet icon on his phone, and began to type. Damson Holdings Ltd Southend… There were three entries. A life had been saved, but many lives were still at risk. And while the chase was on and the blood was up, it was time to smash home their advantage.
Twenty-five
They took Luisa’s inert body to Accident and Emergency along with the half-used strip of tablets they found at her side. The hospital reception was busy, the waiting room full of noise and complaint. Luisa was totally unconscious and wrapped tight in a blanket. He looked for assistance from the staff, but they were all engaged in conversations and confrontations. Finally Dan walked straight past the queue and laid Luisa on an empty trolley bed in the corridor beyond them.
“What are you doing?” said a nurse loudly as he laid her down.
“I found this girl unconscious. These tablets were next to her. I think she’s ingested everything on this strip and I don’t know what that means… you people need to help her right now, understood?” Dan started to walk away.
“Who are you? What’s the girl’s name?” said the old nurse, her voice sounding increasingly flustered.
“I’m the guy who helped save her life. Her name is Luisa. She’s Romanian…”
He ignored further interruption and went on his way. Yes, they’d have him on CCTV, but by the time the police caught up with him the whole business would have been cleared up one way or another. Dan strode back to the car and drove the Jag back out onto the street before anyone could stop him. He needed time to think, so he drove slowly, just another night time driver and one of the pack.
“Here. Tell me about R.P. Fergus. Read that letter. Is he our missing man?”
Dan peered into the rear view mirror. The young guy was still unconscious from Dan’s knockout blow. Ordinarily they would have left the jerk at the scene, but he was at least an accomplice to murder, and maybe more. If they left him alone he would have skipped on them. That couldn’t happen.
Eva unfolded the letter. It was from Artega, a large multinational insurance firm which had an oversized green A as its triangular logo. Eva skipped down the page. The letter was addressed to RP Fergus, deceased.
“R.P. Fergus is dead, Dan. This letter is addressed to him, but it actually looks like it’s written to his estate. It’s about funds held in his name.”
“What? What the hell does that mean?”
“It means this letter was probably for the person who owned the house before whoever owns it now. I’ve seen letters like this before, and they’re misleading.”
“Forget RP Fergus, then. Look at the next ones.”
Eva tore open the first, second and third letter addressed to the firm Damson Holdings Ltd. She scanned them in the negligible light from passing street lamps and shops. It was hard to read at all.
“The first is from a company offering accounting services. It’s basically junk mail.” She laid it aside.
“The next is from a man who wants to make an offer for the house on Birchwood Close. He’s prepared to offer 450k for that place.”
“Once they find out what was happening over there that guy wouldn’t want it for four hundred and fifty pennies. Right. Is there anything useful in those letters? Anything about Damson Holdings Ltd?”
“Maybe. This one is offering another service. The letter is addressed the Director of the firm… but here… when it gets to the actual letter, there’s a name.”
Dan’s head snapped round.
“Dear Mr Chauncey…”
“That’s it. It was him! The twisted, evil bastard. I looked up Damson, but the address was miles away in Benfleet. Benfleet’s got nothing to do with Chauncey.”
“That’s probably the firm’s accounting address.”
“I need his address now, Eva. He was there outside in his car. If he hadn’t guessed we were there somehow we could have cleaned up already.”
“I can get it. But I’m not sure I if can get it now. I’ll look…”
Eva struggled to type out what she was looking for. She found the companies house website and started to search for Damson Holdings Ltd. She found the entry and looked for linked addresses. She saw Birchwood Close and the Benfleet address, but nothing that helped them right now. Next she typed in Joss Chauncey. Nothing. She tried again. No joy. A brainwave hit her, and she typed in Jocelyn Chauncey, but her mobile signal failed and the web search halted.
“Have you got anything, Eva? This guy is going to get away with this...”
Eva shook the phone in frustration. She looked at it again, and there was Jocelyn Chauncey Legal Services Ltd. As soon as she’d clicked on it, she read the details out loud. “Jocelyn Chauncey, Rochford, home address 49 Cowden Close, Rochford.”
“Gotcha!” said Dan. He put his foot down and headed out of town.
***
“What the hell are you doing here?” said Joss Chauncey. His tiny eyes were like two sphincters, tired and closed up. His face was puffy and red and smelt of booze amongst other things. Dan was a notorious ham actor. Eva wasn’t so bad at the cloak and dagger stuff. His urge was to smash the bastard’s face and talk about it later.
“We’re here to check on your welfare, you sick old bastard,” said Dan. So much for taking a lead. The words just came right out.
“This is harassment. I’m a bloody solicitor. If you try this again I will…”
“Listen to me, Chauncey. Tonight we discovered a terrible crime about to happen at a property owned by one of your companies,” said Eva.
“Crime? One of my companies, what are you on about, woman?” He squinted and opened his eyes. The man was in stripy pyjamas. His feet were bare, and gnarled looking. His grey hair was up at all angles. The man was a mess and looked as if his sleep had been interrupted.
“Damson Holdings Ltd. You are named as the sole director. Some documents we’ve seen suggest a house in Birchwood Close in Leigh is owned by Damson Holdings.”
“Some documents? Have you been trespassing onto my property, Miss Roberts? Because that is a crime, and if so I will see to it that you are prosecuted for it.”
“Joss… Joss… what’s going on…?” a female voice echoed down the hall of his large detached house. A light came on behind the old man, and a younger woman appeared in a silk dressing gown. She looked at them, shocked. She put her hands over her mouth. Dan gave her the once over. But for the gown he saw she was naked. It was Maisy, the receptionist from Rochford. Dan looked into her eyes above the clasped hands, looking for the lie. She looked away. She didn’t engage with his eyes at all, instead she moved up beside Chauncey and pressed herself to him. He put his arm around her. Eva was following the details too. The nuances. Dan shook his head at Eva. She was already with him.
>
“Don’t do this, Maisy. Don’t do it. This man asked you to create an alibi. Don’t you dare do it. You don’t want to know what Chauncey has been doing,” said Dan.
Maisy looked up at them for the first time and made the open mouth wide-eyed look of the truly dumb and innocent.
“At your property in Birchwood Close we found a young woman unconscious on a workbench, naked. She had been drugged. She was naked. Her legs had been spread apart. Sitting in the same room as her was a young man who was apparently waiting for someone to join him before they started doing whatever they were going to do with that poor girl.”
“I think I know what that boy was going to do, don’t you Mr Bradley?”
“You sick bastard. You were there, I know you were there.”
“You’re deluded, my friend. I have been here all evening in the fine company of my lovely assistant, haven’t I, Maisy?”
The woman pursed her lips into a futile smile. Weakly, she said “Yes.”
“You don’t sound too convinced, Maisy. Do you think you could keep that up in court under cross examination?” said Eva.
“This nonsense will never get to court,” said Chauncey, cutting across her. “This is about a young man getting his rocks off and fair play to him. I know who it is. Adam Grother. He used to be an intern for me, but he was hopeless, a wreck, so I terminated the arrangement, but because I felt sorry for him I said he could look after my property in Leigh. He doesn’t have to pay any rent and it gave me one less worry. It’s nothing to do with me if he entertains ladies there at night.”
“Again, My Chauncey. Do you think Adam will stick to that in court?” said Dan. Chauncey stepped out onto his doorstep.
“Now you listen to me you arrogant thug. This is never going to court because you’ve got nothing on me, nothing at all to connect me to anything. In fact, you haven’t got anything at all. Not even a crime. And if you ever did, it wouldn’t last two minutes.”
“Why?” asked Dan, smelling the sour booze from the old man’s mouth.
“Because…” said the old man.
“Because you think you’re protected, is that it? Because you have some bent coppers looking after you. Chauncey, you stupid old man. Your protection isn’t worth shit to me,” said Dan.
The old man’s face wilted. “If that boy has been up to no good, who was I to know, eh?”
“Yeah. Who were you to know?” Dan turned to Maisy. “Do you know anything about cars, Maisy?”
The woman rolled her eyes and shrugged. “A little, but not much. Why?”
“Can you see my car out there? Would you say that’s as nice as Mr Chauncey’s car?”
The woman peered into the darkness out across the driveway to the road beyond Chauncey’s conifers. “Not really… no.”
“No, it’s not at all. Back in 2001 that was the top of the range. The Jaguar X type. Now it’s just a noisy heap. Not at all like Mr Chauncey’s Jag.”
Chauncey’s eyes were alive now, moving all over the place looking for holes to plug as they appeared before him. He looked like he was toppling over but somehow staying on his feet. He shook his head at Maisy urgently, but the woman had already started talking.
“No, Joss got his Jag in January. A very nice car, isn’t it?”
Dan smiled at Joss Chauncey. “I’ll bet it is. I want to see that car right now, Joss.”
“You what?”
“You heard. This second, or I might lose my footing and step on your ugly chicken feet. Who knows, you might break a toe. That’s incredibly painful, so I hear.”
“You can’t threaten me, you bastard.”
“No, I can’t and I won’t. But look at those ugly toes of yours, Joss.”
Eva shifted into view. “Just so as your clear on this, Maisy, we have reason to believe Joss Chauncey has been involved in the murder of at least one woman and possibly several more. It is quite possible he planned to murder the girl who we found unconscious on a workbench at one of Mr Chauncey’s houses tonight. I’d suggest you think about that right now, Maisy, unless you want to become an accomplice to murder.”
“Poppycock, Maisy! Balderdash!” said the old man, his hands wild, his face shaking.
Maisy looked at Eva then looked at Dan. Her face was becoming paler second by second.
“He’s got a new model XJ class Jag. It’s navy blue. What has that got to do with anything?” said Maisy.
“Good. We’re half way there. Do you know the registration?” The woman’s hands were shaking when she put them up to her brow.
“Don’t listen to these imbeciles, my dear. This is trumped up. It’s rubbish.”
“Take a look yourself. The car is in the garage,” she said.
Dan shifted past the door and took hold of the gleaming garage handle and twisted it. The door was locked. “Open it, Chauncey.”
The old man held his ground. A second or two passed. “Oh, what the hell can it matter?” he walked into the hallway and brought out a small remote control. “Stand back.” He pressed the remote and the door made an electric hum. It drew slowly upward and over the bonnet of a gleaming new executive class Jaguar XJ. Maisy had been right. The car was beautiful and put Dan’s old X class into a lower league altogether.
Dan looked at the plate EY64 NX1. “Get the keys Joss, you’re taking us for a ride.”
“What?”
“Get the keys for this car and get your slippers on before I jump all over those sick little twigs you call your feet.”
“You’re stealing my car?”
“No. You’re coming with me for a joyride. Listen. I know what you did, and I don’t like it. You come with me and you live, you resist and I’ll tear you to pieces. You need to understand, Joss, I know you killed a friend of mine.”
There was a beat. Somewhere a dog barked and the wind howled.
“I’m innocent,” said the old man. He walked away and came back with a pair of weather beaten old shoes. “I’m innocent” he said quietly.
“Nice shoes, Joss. They’ll do just fine.”
As Chauncey did up his shoes, Dan looked at Maisy. “Give up the alibi now. Don’t tie yourself to this…” Dan gritted his teeth and looked down at the old man. Half of the fight was gone in Chauncey, but a strange gleam still reflected in his eyes.
“Eva, you ride in my car. Tonight, I’m upgrading.” Dan snatched the key from Chauncey and walked toward the gleaming XJ.
***
At Birchwood Close, Eva had arrived already. She stood beside the back gate with Adam Grother, his face still bloodied. Dan couldn’t tell whether the blood was new or old. Dan held Chauncey’s arm. As the old man passed Adam he stopped. “What did you tell them, Adam?”
The young man looked down. “Nothing.”
“Then we’ve got nothing to worry about.”
“You admit it then, do you?” said Dan.
Chauncey looked around at Dan then Eva. “Admit what? That I’ve been kidnapped by two lunatics and taken to my property in Leigh? Yes, I’ll gladly admit that to anyone. These lunatics make up all kinds of sinister accusations, don’t they Adam?”
The young man nodded but half-heartedly.
“We’re going for a walk, Joss,” said Dan.
“What?”
“Just a walk. Then I’ll drop you back at home.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
Dan shoved Joss Chauncey so that he fell over into the garden. He growled in anger and pain, then Dan pulled him to his feet. “Sorry, Joss. You just tripped over.”
“You assaulted me, you bastard.”
“No, Joss. But I can, if you’d like…”
The old man’s jaw quivered. He turned away. Dan pushed him close to the garage, and then pushed him through the door.
“Now walk, Joss. Walk around like all those other times you walked around in here. All those times you dragged those girls onto this table. All the times you carefully picked the tools of your craft from your toolbox. All the times
you filleted and gutted those beautiful women because it turned you on. Because you could. You sick, deranged old man.”
The old man stood stock still beside the bench where they’d found Luisa.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, I think you do, Chauncey. I saw you turn up here earlier in your fancy car, ready for your sport. Tell me… do you have sex with them first, or do you cut them and then rape them after…”
The old man was shaking. “I know what you’re doing. You’re fabricating evidence. That alone will see me clear on this… you’ll never get me. And guess what, even if you came close, I’d still walk.”
“No,” said Dan lightly, slowly. “No you wouldn’t. Now get walking. Walk all round, just like the good old days before you got sloppy. Before you killed my friend. Why did you kill her, Chauncey? Why did you do it? You prefer brunettes, don’t you…?”
The old man walked slowly with light feet looping around the garage floor as instructed.
“It won’t work. I know people who…”
“It will work, Chauncey. The thing is, when people come up against Eva and me, they always think they have the upper hand. For a little while that is. And then they find out that their upper hand isn’t worth shit. Do you know why?”
The old man kept walking.
“Because we know right from wrong even when the people who set those rules have forgotten. And when those grubby little hands on the levers start playing games, we stick to our principles and get the job done. We fight. We never give up. And the wicked, sick, evil scum like you always capitulate in the end. Because he who fights longest wins. And we fight to the end.”
“Nice speech, Mr Bradley… But when the people who know me see your little ruse, it’ll all come apart.”
“No, Chauncey. You see, you may be thorough. But you’re not a forensic scientist. The people who comb this garage will find bone and blood and cranial fluid and skin and hairs and semen, and all those things your most vigorous bleach and a jet wash just can’t get rid of. And then there’s your fresh footprints all over the joint. How many women have you killed, Joss? Five? My guess is more like ten, fifteen, even twenty. And my gut tells me, that whoever you think is your protector, Joss, the Mr Big covering your back… no matter what you think you’ve got on them, they will need you to go down and go down hard because you’re the lowest of the low, Joss. That’s just how it is.”
The Dirty Game Page 17
