DEAD & BURIED a gripping crime thriller full of twists (13 page)

“Archer seems pretty sure, sir.”

“He’s in a lot of trouble. If the gun was the one used to shoot Emily, and we don’t come up with an alternative, things are looking bleak for him.”

A quick glance through the glass partition into his office told him that Eliza King still hadn’t turned up. He went to the board and drew a large question mark in the centre. Then he spent the next few minutes bringing Imogen up to speed.

“I reckon this mystery man with the missing finger has been orchestrating events,” he said. “But unless Archer can come up with something useful to help us find him, we’re stumped. And then there is the woman. What does she hope to gain, I wonder?”

Imogen nodded at his office. “He might speak to DCI King. They must have built some sort of relationship. In the meantime, I’m off to speak to neighbours of the Rhodes family, if I can find some.” She grabbed her bag.

“Hi, folks — been missing me?” It was Ruth. And she was carrying Harry. “I’ve had to leave his pram downstairs — no lift.” She passed him to Joyce who was holding her arms out.

“I’m here to see where you’ve got to with the case,” she explained.

“I don’t think Birch is keen on you working while you’re still signed off,” said Calladine.

“Fair enough but if I just happen to glimpse something, well, I’m bound to comment, aren’t I?”

“In that case you can
glimpse
this.” He handed her the statement Tanya Mallon had made. “She interfered with Emily’s body. No explanation that holds water and she insists she didn’t take her phone or bag.”

Ruth read and then waved it at him. “This is a load of rubbish,” she said. “You’re in a strange environment and you find a dead body. A body with a bullet hole in the chest, I should add. Not to mention with blood all over it. What would the normal reaction be?”

“I made the same point. Tanya Mallon said she didn’t think. That she just wanted to wipe the mud from her face. She used to work for a firm of undertakers so it was no big deal.”

“Rubbish! Most folk wouldn’t go near. They’d check whether the person was injured but once they realised they were dead, and particularly when they saw all that blood, they’d shy away. They’d most definitely call for help. They certainly wouldn’t wipe faces, touch up make-up and fiddle with hair. The woman’s lying, Tom — has to be. She knew Emily. Not only that, Emily Blackwell was someone Tanya had sympathy for.”

“There’s nothing in their backgrounds to suggest that.”

“I’ve told you, you’re not going back far enough.”

Chapter 15

“I’m DC Goode from Leesworth CID,” Imogen introduced herself to Mrs Hunter. “I’m looking for people along here who remember the Rhodes family.”

The elderly woman frowned. “What is it with that lot? Has one of them come into money or suddenly become famous?”

Imogen smiled. “Not that I’m aware of. It’s just part of an investigation we’re carrying out at the moment. I’m particularly interested in—”

“Carol Rhodes. You don’t have to tell me. You and half this town it seems.”

“Has someone else asked about her?”

“That young woman, Annie Naden, was knocking on doors earlier in the week. She’s the one that bought Clough Cottage. She came round here twice asking questions. I can only tell you what I told her. I’ve no idea where Carol went. You lot investigated back then so you must know more than me. Her bloke was that thug, Vinny Costello. Her parents decided she’d run off with him and dropped it.”

“Why was the woman from Clough Cottage interested?”

“She said she’d found something belonging to Carol. If you want to know more, you’ll have to go and ask her.”

“Are there any of the Rhodes family left?”

“Parents are dead and I’ve no idea what happened to the boy — Carol’s brother.”

“Do you recall his name?”

“Darren. He was a year or two older than Carol. Bad lot. He was into drugs even back then.”

“Is there anyone else along here who would have known the family?”

“No, love. I’m all that’s left from them days.”

“Thanks, Mrs Hunter. You’ve been a great help.”

Imogen had already knocked on every door on the street. Most folk were out. But from what she’d just been told they wouldn’t be able to add anything anyway. She had no choice. Like it or not she’d have to visit Clough Cottage again.

* * *

“Sorry about the noise!” Jack Naden bellowed at Imogen. “We’re having work done for the water supply.”

“They’re digging a trench right down the hill?” Imogen was surprised.

“Clough Stream doesn’t reach the well anymore,” he explained. “So we’re having water piped from my father’s source.”

“Not on the mains?”

He laughed. “Not up here, love. The well used to do the job. It was piped in, stored, then fed into the cottage. My dad gets the farm supply from a borehole that feeds a huge storage tank. We’ll be okay once the work’s done.”

Imogen was relieved that she and Julian had lost the bid. Goodness knows what this little lot was costing. And if they had placed the winning bid, Jack’s father might not have been so accommodating with them.

“I’m from Leesworth CID,” she told him, showing her badge. “It’s your wife I want to speak to.”

“She’s in th’ house. What’s it about?”

“A satchel she found.”

“Bloody thing. She’s gone on about little else since she found it. Help yourself — mind the rough ground.”

It was odd being back here with all the work going on. Imogen had come to view the cottage with Julian on a warm spring evening. It had been peaceful then. It was in a lovely spot and she’d been smitten. But they’d had a lucky escape. Perhaps there was something to be said for a semi down in Leesdon. At least it would have running water on tap.

“Annie Naden?”

The young woman turned around. She was about Imogen’s age and had short blonde hair. Her clothes were covered in a mix of paint and plaster.

“Look at the state of me,” she said, trying to rub the dirt from her shirt.

Imogen flashed her badge. “It’s about the satchel you found.”

“I’ve been meaning to bring it in. At first I thought I might find her — Carol, the girl it belonged to. But no one knows where she is.”

Annie went to a large pine table where the satchel lay. “Here. Everything is in there. A selection of schoolbooks but, most interesting, her diary. From what she wrote Carol Rhodes seemed like a nice enough girl. I found it in a cupboard behind the panelling over there. Someone must have hidden it all those years ago.”

“Thanks, Annie. We’re hoping this might help with a case we’re working on. And if we’re lucky, we might find her or a relative we can give it back to.”

“If you do, let me know. I read her diary. It’s funny but I almost feel as if I know her. She was a typical teenager — head full of boys and going out.” She smiled. “I do hope she’s okay.”

“Why do you say that?”

“No one has seen her in years. She simply upped and left. That’s not usual for someone with a settled home life, is it?”

“My bloke and I bid on the cottage, you know,” said Imogen, changing the subject. “You, me and that woman nobody knew.”

“Sorry if you had your heart set. But in a way you were lucky. When we bid, we had no idea about the problems, or the history.” She shuddered.

“The problems I can see well enough, but I know nothing about the history of the place.”

“A woman lived here, forty odd years ago. She wasn’t popular. Granny Slater, they called her. She carried out abortions in this very kitchen.” Annie folded her arms, shaking her head in disgust. “Possibly even right here.” She slapped her hand on the old pine table. “It’s given me nightmares, I can tell you, since I learned that. We’ve got no choice but to live here now. But if I’d known before the auction I wouldn’t have bothered.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine. You’ll make it your own. You are talking a long time ago. A lot of the old houses around here will have history.”

“What with that and the palaver with the water it’s really hard. All that going on out there had better work. I can’t even wash. There’s nothing comes out of the taps. That was something I hadn’t thought of.”

“Our forensic people will want to take a look at the place,” Imogen said.

“The place is in such a mess it hardly seems worth it.”

“You’d be surprised what they can find. It’ll be the cupboard the satchel was in that will interest them the most. I’ll let you know if we find Carol.” Imogen made to leave.

“You don’t think she came here for a . . . you know — an abortion?” Annie asked her. “Like I said, I read her diary. Carol was pregnant. It was the last entry she made. There was nothing after that.”

Imogen suddenly felt cold. Perhaps Annie was right and the place did have ghosts. An abortion? It was certainly possible.

* * *

Tanya Mallon was in the bar when Calladine and Rocco arrived.

“You caught me, Inspector,” she said, raising a glass of red wine. “What can I do for you now?”

“You can tell me the truth.” He nodded towards a table. “Shall we sit down?”

“I’ve told you everything I know.”

She followed Calladine and Rocco to a table.

“I’d like you to go over what happened when you saw Emily lying on the hillside for me once again.”

“You can be a real bore at times, Inspector. I don’t know what else I can tell you.”

“You recognised her. The pair of you had history.”

She laughed out loud. “What an imagination! How could I possibly have known her?”

“I don’t know yet, but you did.” Calladine sounded certain but he had nothing to back this up other than his and Ruth’s gut feeling. “Your reaction to seeing a dead body was all wrong. When you saw who it was things changed and you got stuck in.”

“A bit of lipstick!”

“I don’t buy it. The woman had been murdered, shot. Her clothing was bloody, and she’d been beaten. You happen along and set about fixing her face . . . Come on.”

“I didn’t see it like that.”

“Where do you come from, Mrs Mallon?”

“I live in New York, have done for years. Hence the accent,” she smiled. “My husband’s job was there, so we moved.”

“Where is he now?”

“Greg is dead and buried, I’m afraid.”

“Where did you live prior to New York?”

She sipped her wine. “I’ve lived all over the world. I’ve been lucky. I married a man who was well able to provide for me, and provide he did.”

“But you were born around here.” Another stab in the dark.

Her eyes narrowed.

“I think you knew very well who Emily Blackwell was and you felt sorry for her.”

Her face was like thunder. “Prove it.”

“Come on, Mrs Mallon. Where were you born?”

She shook her head. “Completely irrelevant.”

“We can easily find out. Won’t take more than an hour or so.”

She glowered at them both. “You do that. I refuse to be interrogated like this.”

“Who is Robert Silver?” Calladine could see Rocco looking curious. The DC would be wondering why he’d suddenly pulled that name out of the hat.

Tanya Mallon looked from one detective to the other. “I have no idea.”

“You and he ate here the other night.”

“I’ve met a lot of people since I’ve been here. Other guests, the manager and a number of the barmen. We talk, we have a glass of wine and sometimes we eat together. I don’t remember them all.”

“Back to Emily Blackwell. She was a friend of Costello’s. He knew her from years ago when they both lived in the area. So where do you fit in, Mrs Mallon?”

“It’s very simple — I don’t. As I told you.”

And Calladine couldn’t prove otherwise — yet.

* * *

“Dom, I want you to check something out.”

Eliza King was sitting in the kitchen of Calladine’s house talking on the phone to Sergeant Dominic Shevlin. “That number we had for Gavin Trent — it’s gone dead. I’ll text it to you. Would you find out who the service provider is? I have a horrible feeling that we’ve been fed a shedload of lies.”

“Surely not, ma’am.”

“The case is falling apart. The informant has disappeared before he had the chance to tell me anything useful. I’m being pushed to set up an interview with Costello and I can’t contact Trent.”

“Costello?”

“Yes. His name has come up in a case the team at Leesdon are working on. DI Calladine doesn’t suspect Costello of anything, but he thinks he could clear up one or two details.”

“Can’t you contact whoever put you onto Trent in the first place?”

“No. He contacted me and that’s the problem. It was a couple of months ago when we were working on that big drug case in Hull. Costello’s name was being bandied about, and next thing I get a phone call from Trent. I should have handled things differently but it was a way in and I grabbed it. The problem is that if I can’t raise Trent then the team here will approach Costello directly. And if they do that they could really balls things up. If our informant does have anything to give us, then I want it.”

“Do you think Trent knows what you’re up to? Could that be why he’s pulled the plug?”

“I don’t see how he can. We are a tight team.”

“No chance the informant will turn up?”

“I can’t call it. If he’s got any sense he’ll have scarpered. I know I would. Someone is on to him. Two of his mates have been killed.”

“In that case Costello knows,” Dominic Shevlin said. “He’ll not rest until he’s secured his position again. Did you get anything at all from the informant?”

“No. The last time he called we were going to meet when I got to Leesdon. All I know is that whatever he wants to tell us can put Costello away for the rest of his life. We need that information, Dom. We have all worked too long and hard on this to simply give up now. But that said, I don’t know how to proceed . . . Did you call in on the girls?”

“Yes. Becca’s fine but Jade wasn’t there. Becca says she’s going to her auntie’s until you’re back.”

“Jade is with him — Harvey Evans. I’m worried, Dom. She won’t listen to reason and I’m sure she’s using again. If this case goes pear-shaped that’s something Costello can use. Evans works for him, don’t forget.”

* * *

“DCI King? A word, please,” Rhona Birch called out as Eliza King passed her office door. “We have Kayne Archer in custody. DI Calladine spoke to him earlier.” She handed over the statement.

Eliza King read through the document and slammed it down on the desk. “He maintains it was all a put-up job? I don’t understand. We had an arrangement. We’ve talked numerous times. He’s lying, trying to wriggle out of it. This is cold feet, that’s all.”

“Calladine thinks he’s telling the truth.”

“Calladine doesn’t know the Costello case or the informant like I do.”

“Nonetheless, before you dive in there I want you to talk to Calladine. In fact the pair of you can interview Archer together next time.”

Eliza King was reading through the statement again. “If Archer has been spinning us lies, then all the work my team has put in has been for nothing. We were promised information that would lock Costello away for good.” She was furious. Her face was red, her voice full of venom.

“We all agree that Costello is a villain who should have been put away years ago. You’ll get no arguments from anyone here on that one. What I don’t understand is why this affects you so much.” Rhona Birch waited for Eliza King to say something. “When we first spoke, Calladine said this was personal. I think he’s right. Is there anything you want to tell me, DCI King?”