TWO VICTIMS
(Detective Rachel King Book 2)
An absolutely gripping crime mystery with a massive twist
Helen H. Durrant
First published 2019
Joffe Books, London
www.joffebooks.com
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental. The spelling used is British English except where fidelity to the author’s rendering of accent or dialect supersedes this.
©Helen H. Durrant
Please join our mailing list for free kindle crime thriller, detective, mystery, and romance books and new releases.
http://www.joffebooks.com/contact/
THERE IS A GLOSSARY OF ENGLISH SLANG IN THE BACK OF THIS BOOK FOR US READERS.
CONTENTS
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-two
Chapter Thirty-three
Chapter Thirty-four
Chapter Thirty-five
Chapter Thirty-six
Chapter Thirty-seven
Chapter Thirty-eight
Chapter Thirty-nine
Epilogue
AVAILABLE NOW BY HELEN H. DURRANT
Glossary of English Slang for US readers
FREE KINDLE BOOKS
For all the reviewers and bloggers who add so much to a book’s success. And a very special thank-you to Jill who arranges the blog tours, and puts on such fab launch parties.
Prologue
The tuneless whistling grew louder. Stomach lurching, Ruby shrank back against the wall. He was coming for her. Think! You can’t muck this up. It could be the only chance you get.
She’d been locked in this cold, dark room for hours. But dark and cold were nothing compared to what was coming. Fear seized her by the throat. She was weak. Her half-starved body wouldn’t stand many more of the beatings he meted out.
Ruby knew her mistake — she’d trusted the wrong man. Not only that, she’d asked too many questions and turned herself into a liability, a weak link in an otherwise robust chain. Vasile liked her, and she’d used that to try and persuade him to help her get free. He’d talked about leaving the UK, going back home, and had eventually agreed to take her with him. But he’d made a mistake. A few nights ago when he’d been drunk, Ruby had got her hands on his mobile, seen his contacts and worked things out. Now she knew the truth, and that made her a burden. Knowing who was controlling this enterprise was as good as a death sentence.
Trapped in this place, Ruby realised too late that she couldn’t trust anyone, and particularly not Vasile. In an effort to save his own skin, he’d told Nicu to warn the boss. Nicu was charged with keeping the girls under control. He lost it, flew at her in a rage and finished by locking her up.
Ruby was sure he would kill her. Girls had gone missing in the past, what difference would one more make?
A shaft of light pierced the dark room, and Ruby screwed up her eyes against the glare.
“Move!” A gruff male voice called from the doorway.
Not Nicu this time, but a stranger. “Where’re you taking me?” she asked.
He grabbed her arm, pulling her towards him. “You’re a pretty one, aren’t you? We wouldn’t want to spoil that.” He accompanied this threat with an evil smile.
Ruby recoiled. He’d brought her to within inches of his face. He hadn’t shaved and his rotting teeth stank to high heaven.
“Please, let me go. I’ll keep quiet and disappear. You’ll never hear from me again, I promise.”
That made him laugh. “Once we’re outside, you don’t talk to anyone. Understand?”
He pushed her in front of him along a dingy hallway. Moments later, Ruby felt the cold night air prickle her skin. She could see street lights and cars parked alongside the kerb.
The man stopped, loosening his grip for a moment, and felt around in his jacket pocket. He’d been distracted by the beep of his mobile.
This was her chance.
Ruby kicked out, tore her arm from his grasp and ran. She’d no idea where she was going and what was at the end of the street. Her only thought was to find someone to help her.
Within seconds, a car pulled up alongside her. “Problem, lass?” the driver called out.
Gasping for breath, Ruby could barely get the words out. “I . . . I’m being kept . . . prisoner. Back there. A man . . .”
The passenger door swung open. “Get in.”
Ruby flopped onto the seat and slid down out of sight. “I can’t thank you enough. I thought he’d kill me.”
The driver turned and smiled at her. “He might yet. No one likes a girl who doesn’t know her place. Those who give me trouble are always punished. Wasn’t today warning enough?”
Nicu! She gaped in horror. She’d made a terrible mistake. She hadn’t recognised him in the dark and with those shades on.
“There’s a pile of clothes on the back seat. Get them on. Keep your mouth shut and do what I tell you. Cross me again and I’ll tell the boss what you know. I do that, and you’re dead.” He dumped a large make-up bag on her lap. “You’re going out tonight. Behave, please the punters, and you might get a bed to sleep in later.”
Chapter One
Day One
Carrying a heavy tray of food, DCI Rachel King picked her way carefully between the packed tables. It was teatime, and the café was busy with shoppers. The Trafford Centre was the last place Rachel wanted to be, but she’d promised her fourteen-year-old daughter Mia a treat. They’d been to parents’ evening at the school, and Mia had done well.
“Burgers and coke. Big deal! Ella’s mum’s taking her to that swanky new place in Spinning Fields.”
“What about the clothes, then?” Rachel said, somewhat annoyed. “Don’t forget them. That dress alone cost a bomb, you know.”
Mia grabbed her burger. “You’d have bought me something new anyway. It’s the school disco in a couple of weeks.”
“Don’t count on it. You’ve got a wardrobe full of stuff. You’re such a diva.” Rachel grinned. It was good to see the girl cheerful. She’d had a difficult couple of months. In the course of a particularly nasty murder case, Mia had been kidnapped. The experience had left its mark. For a while, she’d been scared of her own shadow.
“Your mobile’s ringing.” Mia nodded at the phone lying on the table. “Ignore it. It’s bound to be work. Go on, I dare you. Let them wait for once.”
Rachel shook her head. “You know I can’t do that.” She peered at the name on the screen — Elwyn Pryce, her sergeant. He wouldn’t ring unless he had to. It must be something urgent.
“I know you’re off tonight, ma’am
,” he said, “but we’ve got a situation.”
Rachel could hear voices and traffic in the background.
“What’s up?”
“We’ve got a body, a woman. Only been dead a couple of hours, Butterfield reckons.”
Dr Colin Butterfield was the pathologist. “Where are you?” she asked.
“Beswick. Just off Ashton Old Road — that new building site near the supermarket.”
“I’m at the Trafford Centre with Mia. What with the motorway traffic at this hour, I might be a while. Hold the fort, Elwyn. I’ll have to drop Mia off at the station first. Make sure the site is kept secure.”
Mia wasn’t happy. “I don’t want dropping anywhere. Why can’t I go home?”
“It won’t be for long.” Rachel promised the sullen girl. “You can sit in my office and Facetime Ella, show her your dress.” Rachel smiled. “You can ring Meggy too while you’re at it, tell her what’s happened.”
Megan was her eldest daughter, eighteen now and a student at Manchester Metropolitan University.
“Meggy’s out tonight. She’s gone to some party in town.”
Rachel frowned. She didn’t remember Megan saying anything about a party. “Boy involved, is there?”
Mia shrugged. “If there is, she didn’t say anything to me.”
“Eat up,” Rachel urged, gulping down her coffee. “You can bring the drink with you.”
* * *
By the time Rachel arrived at the scene, dusk had fallen. Lighting had been erected, illuminating the desolate patch of ground and the body, now covered with a tarpaulin.
“She’s in that trench over there,” DS Elwyn Pryce said.
She and the softly-spoken Welshman had worked together for a while now and had formed a successful partnership. Rachel trusted Elwyn and valued his judgement. He wasn’t much older than she was, and not bad looking. Colleagues often thought there was more than just work going on between them, but they were wrong. Rachel saw Elwyn as a friend and teammate, nothing else.
She looked around her at the tract of open land, punctuated by a criss-cross of trenches.
“They’re ready for filling with concrete tomorrow.” A man spoke from somewhere behind her. “Once it’s set, we’ll have the foundations for those houses we’re building.”
Rachel turned towards him. “And you are?”
“Fred Turner — site manager.” He smiled at her.
“Seems she was found just in time. Does it look like whoever did it made any attempt to hide her?” Rachel asked Elwyn.
“They tipped a bag of sand over her.” This new voice belonged to a woman, invisible in the shadow beyond the circle of light. “Not a particularly good job either. Done in haste, I’d say. It’s been raining, so most of it washed away. Hence she was spotted by Mr Turner here.”
“Jude!” Rachel exclaimed. “Great to have you back.”
Judith Glover was a senior forensic investigator who worked with Dr Jason Fox. Despite a ten year age difference, she was an old friend of Rachel’s.
“Miss me?”
“Of course, though Jason did his best.” Rachel smiled at the figure emerging from the dark.
“I imagine he did, but he hasn’t got my touch, has he?” Jude quipped.
“Are you sure you should be scrambling around on your knees like that? What about your injuries?” Rachel asked.
“I was lucky, I had a brilliant surgeon. The operation was successful, and now my leg’s as good as new.”
Six months ago, while on a case, Jude had fallen through the roof of a warehouse. She’d broken her leg badly and had been out of commission ever since. Rachel had truly missed her. Jude was excellent at her job and was often able to offer vital insights into how a crime had been committed.
“How long has she been dead?” Rachel asked Butterworth.
“Less than an hour,” was his measured reply.
Rachel checked her watch. That would put the time of death at about eight that evening.
“They certainly had no finesse,” Jude said. “Whoever did this simply put a bullet in her skull. We found her in the trench at the place where she fell.”
“Seen enough, DCI King? Can we take her now?” Butterworth said.
“Fine with me,” Jude said, and looked at Rachel, who nodded.
“PM?” she asked.
“In the morning. I’ll start at ten,” Butterworth replied.
The mortuary technicians carefully lifted the body and laid it on a stretcher.
Once she was out, Rachel and Jude knelt down and took a close look at where she’d been.
“There’s a lot of blood in the trench.” Jude was painstakingly scraping away the sand and taking samples. “I think she was shot and lay here for a short while before she died. Hence the blood.”
“Did she die from the bullet wound or did the sand suffocate her?”
“The PM will determine that,” Jude said.
“Any of her belongings found?” Rachel asked.
“Not so far. No bag, and no coat or jacket either. From what I saw, she was wearing a skirt, a jumper and underwear.”
“No shoes?”
“Nope.” Jude shook her head.
“Rachel!” Elwyn called. “There’s CCTV at all the entrances. Mr Turner’s sorting it for me.”
That was something at least. Rachel smiled at Jude. “If we’re lucky, we might get a car registration number.”
But Jude wasn’t listening. She appeared to be concentrating hard on a patch a few feet further up the trench, brushing away the mingled sand and earth.
Rachel leaned forward to take a closer look. “Found something?”
“I’m afraid so. There’s something else here.”
“Will it help identify her?”
Jude met Rachel’s eyes. She shook her head. “I doubt it. I’m afraid we have a second body. Digging this trench probably disturbed it. And this one’s been here a bit longer.”
Chapter Two
Day Two
“You left me stuck in your office for hours,” Mia complained at breakfast the following morning. “I thought you were never coming to pick me up. What was so important?”
“As I told you last night, I can’t discuss it, sweetie. Sorry,” Rachel said.
“I was bored stiff. That policeman from downstairs kept talking to me about his granddaughter.”
Rachel smiled to herself. “He was just keeping you company.” She looked around. “Seen Meggy this morning?”
“She didn’t come home. She said that might happen.”
Rachel raised her eyes from that morning’s post, mostly junk mail. “Do you know who she went out with?”
“I presume it was that new friend Shannon and some others. She didn’t say much, just that she might not be back.”
“Okay, I’ll ring her in a bit. Had your shot yet?”
Mia nodded. She suffered from type 1 diabetes and took insulin by injection each day.
“It’ll be your dad’s for tea. I’ll probably be late,” Rachel said.
“Does he know? If he doesn’t, will you square it with him?”
That was an odd thing to say. Alan King, their dad, only lived next door, and the girls usually came and went as they pleased. “He won’t mind, he’s working at home all day. He’ll be pleased to see you.”
“Don’t think so,” Mia said. “He’s been a bit off with me recently. I must have done something wrong.”
Mia went to get her stuff for school, leaving Rachel at the kitchen table, quietly seething. She had a shrewd idea of what this was about. She picked up her mobile and rang him.
“Mia’s with you later,” she told him firmly. “I’ll be late. You okay with that?”
“Yes, I suppose so. Will she have to stay overnight?”
“I don’t know, Alan. What difference does it make? She has her own room at yours, for God’s sake.”
“We need to talk, Rachel, clear the air.”
“Whatever needs saying, Alan, don
’t you dare take it out on our Mia.”
With those words, she cut him off. If he was acting up because of rumours he’d heard about Jed McAteer, if he made Mia feel awkward in any way, she’d damn well kill him!
She was getting all het up, and that wouldn’t do, not today. Trust Alan to be like this just when she had a new case on her hands. She relied on him to look after Mia when she wasn’t around, make sure she managed her injections and ate regularly. With all the demands of her job, Rachel needed him. She ran her fingers through her curly red hair and dragged it off her forehead. She kept meaning to get it cut, but she never seemed to find the time.
* * *
The team — DS Elwyn Pryce, DC Jonny Farrell and DC Amy Metcalfe —gathered in the main office. As usual, Jonny was stylish in a sharp suit, obviously tailor-made, a crisp white shirt and shiny shoes. God knows how he afforded it. Rachel had seen him in half a dozen different suits this month. Amy kept turning round to look at him, blonde hair swinging about her face. The pretty DC was flirting. This was not something to be encouraged in members of the same team. It caused too much hassle.
“Last night two bodies were discovered on a building site in Beswick. One was female and the other yet to be determined, although on first examination that one was thought to be female too. The more recent victim was shot through the head and dumped no more than two hours before the alarm was raised. No belongings were found, apart from what she was wearing, and her identity is unknown. The second one has been in the ground for some time, according to Dr Glover.”
“Are the killings connected?” DC Amy Metcalfe asked.
“We’ve no idea,” Rachel replied. “I’m hopeful that Dr Butterfield, the pathologist, will shed some light on the matter. The site manager is emailing over the CCTV. Amy, can you check all vehicles that entered and left the site last night? Get the registration numbers and we’ll go from there.”
“Do you want me to check missing persons, ma’am?” Amy asked.
“Yes, for the female killed last night, but until we have a time frame for the other one, you can leave it for now.”
Two Victims Page 1
