DEAD & BURIED a gripping crime thriller full of twists (11 page)

Chapter 13

Calladine and Eliza King pulled up in Strangeways car park.

“Have you been here before?” he asked.

All the way there, she’d sat quietly beside him. She wasn’t easy to talk to. All he got back from his attempts were one word responses.

She shook her head. “You?”

He shuddered. “Oh yes. Ray Fallon was an inmate. I had to speak to him on a number of occasions. In fact he died in here.”

“I read about that. His wife, wasn’t it?”

“The long-suffering Marilyn. Which reminds me, I have a dog, Sam. He’ll be curious when you turn up at the house but he won’t bite.”

“What’s your dog got to do with Fallon’s wife?” she asked.

“Sam was her dog. She left him with me when she was put away.”

“You knew her that well?”

“I was brought up with Fallon.”

Eliza King made no comment. Well, let her make what she wants out of that, thought Calladine. He suspected that there were things in her life she’d prefer to keep quiet about. The Costello angle, for one. She knew him, or had had dealings with him before. He’d seen real hate in her eyes when they’d talked in Birch’s office.

Having completed the formalities they were shown to a room furnished with a table and four chairs. After a short wait, a prison warder escorted Ken Blackwell into the room. He and the guard sat down opposite the detectives.

Blackwell was tall and thin with dark hair. He looked drawn, as if he never slept.

“I’m sorry about the loss of your ex-wife, Emily,” Calladine said kindly. “We are doing everything we can to find the culprit.”

Blackwell shrugged. “I haven’t seen her in years. She didn’t visit, not once. And the boy . . . poisoned his mind, she did.”

“Will you go to the funeral? It can be arranged, you know.”

“I’m not sure. It’s a day out, I suppose. If I can stand the hassle. Her lot will be there. That sister of hers is bound to point the finger and blame me. Like she always did.”

“We’d like to ask you some questions about Emily’s past, particularly about people she knew. But you are under no obligation.”

“I don’t mind. I’ll try. Though I don’t know what I can remember.”

“You both knew Vinny Costello.”

“Oh, I remember him alright.” He looked at Calladine and his eyes narrowed to slits. The memory was evidently uncomfortable. “He didn’t kill her,” Blackwell said at last. “They had something. I’ve no idea what, but it got me down.”

“What do you mean — something?” Eliza King asked. “Are you saying they were romantically involved?”

He gave a humourless laugh. “Oh no. Vinny only ever had eyes for Carol. She was the love of his life. Emily and Carol were friends. They shared stuff. A lot of it I’d no idea about. But Vinny knew. They were thick as thieves, the three of them.”

“I don’t think Costello killed Emily either,” Calladine said. “Do you know why he paid Emily a sum of money each month? It’s been going on for years.”

“No idea. First I’ve heard of it. But it doesn’t surprise me.”

“Do you recall Carol’s full name?”

The warder whispered in Blackwell’s ear. Advice? Or was it a warning not to say too much about what went on in Costello’s world?

Calladine assured him again. “We’re not looking to incriminate you. We simply want to talk to her.”

“It’s not you lot I’m bothered about,” Blackwell grunted.

So he was concerned that Costello might find out about this conversation. That man’s tentacles reached everywhere.

“Carol Rhodes was her name. She lived in Leesdon. Don’t know where she is now. We all lost touch.”

Calladine smiled. “Thanks. That could help immensely.”

“The money?” Blackwell asked. “Was it a lot?”

“No, just a small amount. Went up every now and then. Inflation, I expect.”

That seemed to satisfy Blackwell but he didn’t say why.

The warder coughed. “Ken has had enough now.”

* * *

“Carol Rhodes,” Calladine told the team. “She was an ex-girlfriend of Costello’s. We need to find her and ask what she remembers about Emily’s life during those years. Did they keep in touch, that sort of thing? Jet Holdings is owned by Costello. So effectively it was him paying Emily the money every month. We need to know why. Given the number of years it has been going on it has to be something to do with the past.”

“Sir!” Rocco interrupted. “CCTV from last night. Guess whose car was parked a few yards from the roundabout?”

Rocco looked pleased with himself.

“Tanya Mallon’s,” he said. “It was there for a good fifteen minutes. Long enough to do for Mick Garrett.”

That woman again! She was everywhere in this investigation. But restrain, beat and then stab Garrett? It didn’t fit somehow. “Thanks, Rocco. We’ll bring her in. Imogen, see if you can find Carol Rhodes. Marriage records, electoral register, you know the drill.” Calladine drew a ring around Tanya Mallon’s name on the board.

Eliza King stood watching, hands on hips. “She works for Costello. I had hoped we could soft-peddle things where he was concerned. At least until I’ve made contact with my informant again.”

“We can’t wait. Besides it might not even involve Costello. But we can’t ignore the fact that she’s involved in this right up to her pretty neck. We can’t hang around. Give her any more leeway and she’ll be gone.”

“Costello is bound to find out, and when he does he’ll be on his guard. This is going to trash all my hard work.” Eliza King stormed back to his office, slamming the door behind her.

“I take it she’s not coming with us then. Pity. She’d do well to be a bit more hands on with the case.”

“Pennine Inn, sir?”

“Yes, Rocco. It’s lunchtime, so with luck she’ll be there. If not, we’ll have to get uniform to wait until she turns up.”

* * *

They were in luck. Tanya Mallon was there, alone. She was talking on her mobile as the two detectives entered the restaurant.

“Hello again, Inspector. Looking for me?” She smiled, putting the phone in her bag. “Work calls me back, I’m afraid. I’ll have to cut my visit short.”

“We’d like you to come down to the station. Answer a few more questions.”

“Can’t we do it here, Inspector? I’ve already ordered lunch and the chef is preparing something special.”

Calladine and Rocco sat down. “Where were you last night?”

“In the bar,” she replied. “From eight till late, I’m afraid. I got into a conversation with a gentleman from Florida.”

“Will he confirm that?”

“He can’t. He left for home this morning.”

“How convenient. What about the barman? Will he vouch for you?”

“I’ve no idea where he is today, Inspector.”

“Your car was caught on CCTV in Leesdon last night. It was parked at the scene of a murder.”

She stared at him wide-eyed. “Another killing? This town isn’t safe, is it? I’ll be sure not to venture out alone after dark again.”

“Can you explain what your car was doing there?”

“No, Inspector, I’m afraid I can’t.” She thought for a moment. “Something odd though. This morning my car was not where I’d left it. I park in the small car park at the side of the hotel. This morning it was right outside the main entrance.”

“What are you saying?”

She smiled. “That someone borrowed it, Inspector. My own fault entirely. I really shouldn’t leave the keys in the ignition.”

“And you expect me to believe that?”

She shrugged. “It’s what happened. Unless you can prove otherwise.”

“Did you mention this to anyone?”

“Yes. I told one of the porters this morning. John, I believe his name is.”

“There are other factors in this case that I want to question you about.”

“I’m sure this is some sort of harassment.”

“Not at all. It’s just a few questions.”

“Are you going to arrest me?”

“No, but your cooperation would be appreciated.”

“Then I’m afraid I’ll have to disappoint you. After lunch I have packing to do and then I’m returning home.”

Calladine was fed up with all this verbal dancing.

“In that case I will arrest you, Mrs Mallon.”

* * *

“Anything on Carol Rhodes yet, Imogen?” Calladine had left Tanya Mallon in a soft interview room with two uniformed officers. He needed strong coffee before he tackled the woman again.

“Nothing concrete, guv. She’s a mystery. There is an old missing person report from the seventies. Joe in archives dug it out for me. Seems he knew the Rhodes family. We’d be searching forever if he hadn’t put it in his special box. Apparently he was never happy with the outcome. Her family decided Carol had run off with her boyfriend — Costello. That might be true but he certainly didn’t marry Carol. His wife is Spanish. So why didn’t she return home? There were no letters, no phone calls, not even a card at Christmas.”

“And her family didn’t take it further?”

“No. Joe told me they weren’t up to much. But that’s not the point. When she disappeared, Carol was only fifteen.”

“Where did she live?”

“Back Lane, number three.”

“Okay, Imogen. Would you go down there and speak to the neighbours? You never know, one of them might remember her.”

“Doctor Atkins rang while you were out. She says Garrett was killed where he was found.”

He turned to Rocco. “Ready for this?”

The DC nodded.

Calladine’s mobile rang. It was Shez Mortimer.

“Fancy another session later?”

No shrinking violet this one. “What time?” The words were out before he could stop them. He should have refused, made an excuse, so why hadn’t he? Because he could feel it starting again. The excitement at meeting someone new and hitting it off immediately. Shez was fun and very attractive. Although she had dark hair, she reminded him of Lydia. He sighed into his phone. This was going to cause no end of trouble with both Monika and Ruth.

“The Wheatsheaf. Get away when you can. I’ll wait for you.”

Rocco was looking at him sideways. Calladine kept his mouth shut. He didn’t want this getting out yet.

“Tanya Mallon was seen at the shooting on the Hobfield and again at the site of Garrett’s death. She’d better come up with something better than coincidence this time.”

Tanya Mallon didn’t seem to be bothered in the least by her detention. As the detectives entered the room she was touching up her make-up.

“A girl has to do her best.” She smiled as she put the mirror back in her bag and checked her watch. “Will this take long? I have things to do, Inspector.”

“Don’t we all,” Calladine responded. “Might I suggest you tell us the truth this time and then we can all get on with what we have to do.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say. I’ve done nothing. But that doesn’t fit with your theories, does it?”

“What were you doing last night?”

“I was in the bar.”

“We need the name of someone who can back that up.”

“I told you, the man I met has gone.”

“The barman then. We can always get the guest’s name from the hotel later.”

“His name is Robin. You could ring the hotel and ask.”

“I’ll do that.” He nodded at Rocco who left the room.

“Should I have a solicitor present?”

“Do you need one?”

Another charming smile. “No, I don’t think I do. Your detective will be back presently and he’ll confirm what I’ve told you.”

“You were on the Hobfield the other day and there was a shooting. You were by the viaduct last night and there was a stabbing. Suppose I do believe you had nothing to do with either incident, I still have to ask if you saw anything.”

She shook her head. “No. Like I’ve already told you. This is all quite tedious.”

She spent the rest of the time until Rocco returned, staring at a picture on the wall.

“Robin confirms Mrs Mallon’s story.”

“I told you. I don’t lie, Inspector.” She gave them both a small smile and began to stand up.

Calladine stopped her. “Not so fast. You can stay here and give the constable a statement.”

* * *

Tonight Shez Mortimer wore a fitted navy number with the high-heeled slingbacks. Her hair hung in a glossy curtain and she sported the signature red lipstick. She broke into a wide smile when she spotted him.

“You keep long hours. A policeman’s lot, I suppose.”

So he had told her. He couldn’t remember doing so, but the fact didn’t seem to bother her.

“We’ve got a big case on,” he explained.

“I’ve seen something in the local rag. A woman found dead in a local beauty spot.”

“It’s turning out to be a tough one and it involves some hard characters.”

She patted his knee. “You have my sympathy. My own job can get tricky too. We get our fair share of dodgy punters in the escort business. Particularly those who don’t want to pay. Tackle them and they turn into Neanderthals. The wealthier they are, the worse they behave.”