Two Victims

by Helen H. Durrant

  Clammed up. Talking about Nicu had her scared alright.

  “Is there anything you can tell us about Jess that might help us identify the body we found? Did she mention her family, for example?”

  “No one who cared. Crap parents who dumped her the minute they could. They split when she was still young. Her father beat her. He broke her arm once, just above the wrist.”

  “Do you know if she has any other relatives?” Rachel asked.

  “Her granny’s still alive. Her name’s Anita Darwin, and she lives in Levenshulme.”

  “I still don’t understand why you moved all the way out here,” Rachel said. “Wouldn’t you rather be near people you know?”

  “Suits me fine,” Roxanne said. “I was lucky, I got help to get out.”

  “What d’you mean — lucky?” Elwyn asked.

  “Out of the city.” She stared at them, frowning. “Look, what is this? I’ve done nowt. You’ve no right pressing me like this.”

  “We just want you to be honest with us,” Rachel said. “We’re looking for a vicious killer, the identity of a victim and a girl on the run. We need all the information we can get.”

  “Well, I can’t help you. I want you to go now. The kids are making a right racket. They need me.”

  Rachel’s instincts told her that the girl was holding back. She was afraid of something — or someone. It was the mention of the name Nicu that’d done it. “What’s wrong, Roxanne? What are you afraid of? Speak to us and we will ensure that no one gets to you. We can keep you safe.”

  Roxanne looked doubtful. She remained silent for a while, obviously considering this. Then she stood up. “Bugger off! Things are okay as they are.”

  * * *

  Rachel and Elwyn headed back towards the Glossop Road. “At one point we were doing fine, then something frightened her,” Elwyn said.

  “When we mentioned Nicu,” Rachel replied. “She’s afraid. He could well be the reason she ran. Agnes must have appreciated the danger and got her to a place of safety. It has to be her involvement with the girls that got her killed. We’ll speak to Roxanne again. Agnes took a huge risk, and she’d have been the one to pay the price if she was found out. Was it all about protecting those girls, Elwyn, or are we missing something?”

  He shrugged. “We don’t know enough yet to make that judgement.”

  Rachel checked her phone and brightened. “I’ve had a text from Megan’s friend Shannon. Nicu is arranging another party this weekend, same apartment and same price. This is our chance to get him, Elwyn.”

  “All well and good bringing him in, but what evidence do we have?”

  “For now, speaking to the bastard will do,” Rachel said.

  “We can’t leave things as they are with Roxanne. She was holding back. We still have questions with no answers.”

  “Once she knows Nicu has been brought in, things will change,” Rachel said. “I’ll ask Stella to get an address for Anita Darwin. If our unknown is Jess, we should get a familial DNA match.”

  They drove down the road towards Stalybridge and the M60, which would take them back to Manchester.

  Rachel checked her mobile. “I’ve got Anita’s address. We’ve got time, we could do this now.”

  “Okay, whereabouts in Levenshulme?”

  “Mathews Lane. Know it?” she asked.

  Elwyn nodded. “It’s near my sister’s.”

  As they approached the small terraced house, the detectives saw a woman shaking her fist at a group of kids. The second they spotted the car, the lot of them scarpered off down the road.

  The woman was small, her face scored with deep lines. Her dyed blonde hair was scraped back off her face, leaving a full fringe that fell over her eyes. A cigarette dangled from her lips.

  “Gerrout of it!” she shouted as the detectives got out of the car. “Bloody kids, they should be in school. The parents have no idea. Kids these days need a good battering, teaching who’s boss.” She registered the detectives’ appearance with a frown. “What d’you want? If it’s money, you’re out of luck.”

  “Anita Darwin?” Rachel asked.

  “Who wants to know?” she asked.

  “Are you her or not?” Rachel felt in her pocket for her warrant card. “DCI King and Sergeant Pryce.”

  “Bloody police! As if I didn’t have enough to deal with.”

  “All we want is a chat. You’re not in any trouble,” Rachel said. “It’s about your granddaughter, Jess.”

  Anita Darwin looked from one detective to the other, her lined face doubtful. “Can’t tell you owt. Me and her never got on. Left here the second she was able, she did.”

  “We won’t take long,” Elwyn said.

  “You’re wasting your time.”

  Rachel moved forward. “Can we come in just for a minute? We’d still like to ask you some questions about Jess.”

  Anita Darwin wagged a finger in Rachel’s face. “I don’t like police, and I don’t want ’em in my house. Got that, copper?”

  Okay, if that’s the way you want it. “Look, this isn’t very pleasant, but you give me no choice. We’ve found a body, and we’re trying to exclude the possibility that it’s Jess,” Rachel said.

  If the news bothered Anita, she certainly didn’t show it. She dragged deeply on the cigarette and blew out a plume of smoke.

  “Would you be willing to give a DNA sample?” Rachel said.

  “I warned the silly bitch to mind her step. She were never in, always round them clubs, mixing with God knows who.” She stared at Rachel. “You think I’m hard, don’t you? Well, stuff you, you lot know nowt!”

  “D’you want to tell us about it?” Rachel said.

  “Bugger off. I don’t have time.”

  “What about the DNA?” Elwyn said.

  She gave a thin smile. “No need, love. It’s already on record. Not Little Miss Perfect myself, am I?”

  Chapter Twenty

  DC Amy Metcalfe looked up and down the busy street. “This is a waste of time,” she said. “We’ve been in all the shops and knocked on so many doors my knuckles have got bruises.”

  “Ruby’s been seen along here, more than once,” Jonny said. “We’ll get a cuppa and sit in the car for a while. We’re parked right opposite the hostel. It’s coming up to tea time — you never know, she might pop in for some grub.”

  “We get all the crap jobs,” Amy complained. “It’s deliberate, you know. DCI King wants me gone.”

  Jonny shook his head. “Imagination. She’s okay, and this girl does need finding.”

  “So, where’s the cuppa coming from?” Amy asked.

  “We’ll see if Mavis will sort us out.” He smiled.

  Amy grinned back. “She likes you.”

  “She’s sussed who my dad is. I reckon she’d do anything for a couple of tickets to City’s next match.”

  “DC Farrell! I think you’ll find that’s called bribery.”

  The hostel canteen was filling up. Mavis Smithson was behind the counter serving up pie and chips to the homeless people filing past.

  “Got a shift going, if you want it,” she called to Jonny. “Tonight. You can go out with one of the blokes and serve up soup around the city centre. You might strike lucky and find your girl.”

  Amy nudged him. “Sounds like bloody hard work to me. Tramping round Manchester in the dark, feeding folk off their faces on spice. That’s no way to spend your evening.”

  But Jonny wasn’t so sure. Mavis was right. It might be a way of finding Ruby.

  “The girl with the pink hair, does she turn up regularly?” he asked Mavis, accepting the mug of tea she handed him.

  She nodded. “She’s been seen. Never in the same place twice, though. But the rough sleepers will know her. Gain their trust and they’ll talk to you. We find a couple of smokes usually does the trick.”

  He smiled at her. “Okay, count me in.”

  Taking their tea, the two detectives went outside to the car. “We’ll have this and
then I’ll head home. I am doing the night shift, after all,” Jonny said.

  “More fool you! I’m not mixing with that lot in the dead of night, not even for DCI bloody King.”

  Jonny looked at her. “She likes initiative, Amy, you know that. If I find Ruby and get her back to the station, it’ll be a step up.”

  “You going for sergeant too? That your plan?” she asked.

  “I don’t intend to stay a DC for ever. I’ve got my dad wittering on at me. He was all keen for me to join the family business. I knocked that idea on the head and got nowt but scorn and derision for joining the force. For my own self-respect, I need to show him I’m doing well.”

  “I thought your dad was a footballer. What’s this business?” Amy asked.

  “He’s retired from the game, not played for a while now. These days he owns a string of sportswear shops all across Greater Manchester. He might be famous and minted, but none of that ever appealed to me.”

  * * *

  Back at the station, Rachel asked Stella to find Anita Darwin’s record on the system. Minutes later, there she was. She’d been done for receiving stolen tobacco and booze. Her home was raided and a sizeable haul was found. She’d refused to disclose where the stuff had come from.

  Rachel picked up the phone and rang Jude. “Would you do a familial DNA match with our unknown and one Anita Darwin who’s on the system. I’ve been told that Anita might be our unknown’s grandmother.”

  “Not a problem. I’ll let you know the minute I get something. About that other little matter, I did as you asked and I’ve got something. But it’s late now and I’ve left my notes at the lab. I’ll catch up with you tomorrow.”

  That was Jude-speak for she’d got results from the few samples she’d managed to get from the Akerman scene. Rachel was intrigued. What had Jude found?

  “It’s time to get your glad rags on,” Elwyn called to her. “I’m nipping off to change and I’ll pick you up here in about an hour.”

  “Sure you still want to come?” she asked, hoping he didn’t feel used.

  “Wouldn’t miss it. Posh drinks and food in Manchester’s latest hotspot — what’s not to like?”

  She grinned. “What about the people who’ll be there? Crooks and charlatans. And then there’s Jed.” She tapped his arm. “Don’t let him put you down. Seeing you with me, he’ll try. Just let any jibes float over your head.”

  “We could ham it up a bit, make him think that you and me . . .”

  Rachel’s eyes widened in mock alarm. “Absolutely not, DS Pryce. This is work. Remember that, and keep your mind on the job.”

  As far as Rachel was concerned, it was all just good-natured banter, but there were times when she wondered about Elwyn.

  “You working late again, DCI King? Case moving forward?”

  Harding. “Yes, sir, we’re working on a couple of leads. I’m hopeful we’ll have an ID for our unknown before long.”

  “DCI Kenton asked if you’d found the girl you were chasing after.”

  That told Rachel she’d been right. The girls, and Ruby in particular, were probably victims of the grooming gang. Why else would Kenton be interested in Ruby’s whereabouts? “No, sir, she’s a tricky one. Doesn’t want to be found.”

  “When you do find her, let me know. DCI Kenton wants to interview her.”

  “Do you know what his interest is in the girl?” Rachel asked.

  “Not really, but he did mention that she was constantly at that hostel, seeking out Akerman.”

  Rachel wondered again how much she could trust Harding. What was she thinking? He was her superintendent and had never put a foot wrong. “The cases we are both investigating are linked, sir. Akerman was close to our victim, Agnes Moore. D’you know why Kenton is so interested in Akerman’s murder?”

  “He has had cases recently with very similar MOs. He is certain it’s the same killer.”

  “We are working on the theory that whoever killed Agnes and the unknown is not the same person as the one who killed Akerman,” she said. “Nevertheless, there will be things we should know. Our paths are going to cross at some point, and I didn’t find Kenton particularly helpful.”

  “Any problems, come to me. I’ll try and clear the way.”

  Rachel saw Harding’s eyes stray to the pair of heels she was holding.

  “Off out?” he asked

  “Mr McAteer has invited me and DS Pryce to the opening of a new bar in a tower block he’s built in Spinningfields,” she said. “I’ll give him the good news about the site while I’m there.”

  He nodded. “It’ll do you good to relax.”

  Rachel couldn’t understand why Harding hadn’t done any digging on McAteer. Or perhaps he had. If so, and he knew about McAteer’s criminal past, why hadn’t he said anything?

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Rachel was wearing a midnight blue knee-length dress and black patent high heels. She rarely went anywhere that demanded evening wear and had very little to choose from. Her wardrobe mostly consisted of stuff for work — jeans, shirts, a variety of jackets and comfortable footwear, boots or trainers in the main. The dress she’d dug out for tonight had been bought for a dinner with Alan many moons ago. Fortunately, she was still the same size. She’d only worn the shoes once before and had forgotten how much they pinched her toes.

  “My feet will be in ribbons by tomorrow,” she complained as they got out of the taxi.

  Elwyn grinned. “I thought looking good was everything.”

  She snorted. “When did I give a toss about how I look?”

  “True, you are the exception. You do tend to throw on whatever’s to hand.”

  “Now you’re taking the mick, Pryce.”

  “Smart-looking building.” Ignoring her remark, Elwyn cast his eyes skyward. “Right at the top, you say.” He looked at Rachel and smiled. “Well, that gives us a problem straight away.”

  He was talking about having to take the lift. Rachel rarely used them but tonight there was no choice. The restaurant was forty-six floors up.

  “I’ll grab hold of you and close my eyes,” she said. “And not a word to anyone, understand?”

  Elwyn laughed. “We can’t have the team knowing our hard-faced leader is scared of lifts, can we? It’ll cost you though.”

  “I’ll let you into another secret,” she said. “I’m nervous. Tonight’s escapade is well out of my comfort zone.”

  He smiled. “Like you said, it’s work. Who knows? We might even bump into Nicu. Make the whole evening worthwhile, that would.”

  “We’re certainly going to bump into Jed and that’s what’s bothering me,” she said. “But on the work front, we know Nicu has access to a flat here. From what Megan can remember it was on the twenty-first floor. Mind you, she’ll have been well out of it, given the amount of booze she and her mates can shift.”

  The ride in the lift had Rachel burying her head in Elwyn’s shoulder, her eyes closed and her stomach turning over. But the lift moved fast. Only seconds later, he whispered, “We’re here.”

  Rachel smoothed down her dress and ran her fingers through her red hair. “Hard-faced, you said. Right now, I’m feeling anything but.”

  Elwyn knew how vulnerable Rachel really was, but to the rest of the world she presented a bold front. She was determined not to let it slip. Fighting down her nerves, she gazed around. The bar was packed. There were several faces Rachel recognised, a prominent local MP for one.

  “Drinks are over there.” Elwyn pointed. “A glass of something will do you good.”

  “Make it a white wine,” she said. “A large one.”

  “Rachel! Glad you could make it.”

  Rachel spun round and there he was — Jed — done up to the nines. He had a woman on his arm, blonde, much younger than him and stunning. Rachel stared, she couldn’t help it.

  “This is Clare,” he said simply. Rachel saw Jed’s eyes stray to Elwyn, who was just bringing the drinks. “This isn’t work,” he said. “Or
perhaps your sergeant is more than just a colleague?”

  Rachel flashed him a warning look.

  Jed grinned. “Do you like the place? Cost a bomb, but well worth it. We’re fast getting the reputation I want, and the chef I hired for tonight is top notch.”

  “Shame you’ve spent all that money,” Rachel said, “because your reputation might be tarnished already. One of the apartments here was raided by my Salford colleagues recently. Several people were taken to the station and interviewed.”

  Jed’s face clouded over. “What did the police want? Not drugs, surely?”

  “No, trafficked girls,” Rachel said with some distaste. “Seems this place is getting a reputation for all the wrong reasons, Jed, despite your best efforts.”

  “Do you know which apartment it was?”

  She had him rattled. “Salford doesn’t give much away, but I believe it’s on the twenty-first floor. A Romanian individual has access to it.” Rachel knew Jed of old, and she watched his face carefully. He knew about it alright.

  “I’ll look into it. Thanks for the heads-up.” Jed turned away.

  “Shall we mingle?” Rachel said to Elwyn. “Eyes and ears peeled. That sly bugger knows Nicu. It was written all over his face.”

  * * *

  Jed McAteer went straight to the bar and stood beside a woman waiting to be served. “That lapdog of yours has been causing trouble,” he whispered.

  The woman smiled at him. “Which particular lapdog is that, darling? As you know, I have quite an entourage these days. Everyone wants to be seen with Leonora Blake.”

  “Cut the crap, Leo. Tell your people to watch their step. You and Ronan do not want to attract the police’s attention. Despite what you think, they’re not stupid.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong, Jed. The police are precisely that. They follow the trail left for them.” The woman nodded towards Rachel. “Your lady friend over there, she’s got cop written all over her. Isn’t it you who’s attracting the police’s attention by inviting her?”

  “I want to know what they know. You’ve heard the old adage about keeping your enemies close.” He winked at her. “Besides, Rachel’s a friend from way back. I’m proud of this building and I wanted her to see it.”