When the Guilty Cry

by M J Lee

  ‘But I spoke with Matthew, he said I could go.’

  ‘He changed his mind. Or should I say Leviticus guided him. “Lay his hand on the head of his offering, and kill it in front of the tent of meeting; and Aaron’s sons shall throw its blood against the sides of the altar.”’

  The words sent a chill through Patricia Patterson. She knew this was going to happen, but to hear it stated so bluntly terrified her.

  ‘But… but I kept my word. I didn’t tell anybody.’

  ‘It’s too late, it has been decided. The Sons of Aaron have decided.’

  The door slammed shut, leaving Patricia alone.

  What had she done to deserve this?

  Unfortunately, she knew.

  SATURDAY

  Chapter 64

  Ridpath was standing outside Stretford nick again. It seemed he spent his life going in and out of this place. Normally, it would be heaving on a Saturday, but today it was strangely quiet and peaceful. Stretford Police Station was less than half a mile from Manchester United’s ground and served as a holding centre for all the cops on duty for a home game. Except the Covid restrictions were still in place and United were playing behind closed doors, watched by an army of red plastic seats.

  He’d dropped off Eve to her Chinese teacher that morning. She shared a class with five other kids, all of whose parents were worried their children wouldn’t be able to speak Chinese or understand the culture. Polly had insisted Eve attend the Manchester Chinese Centre opposite Ardwick Green and Ridpath continued to send her when classes had resumed in February.

  She moaned about attending, but Ridpath felt she secretly enjoyed the time and meeting the other kids.

  ‘But I have homework to do.’

  ‘You have homework?’

  ‘When don’t I have homework?’

  ‘When you’ve finished it.’

  ‘Clever, Dad. Some History stuff and Geography.’

  He was driving along the A56 into the centre of Manchester.

  ‘Good, something to keep you busy this afternoon.’

  ‘You have to work again?’

  ‘Yeah, the case is heating up and we only have till Monday to solve it.’

  She suddenly perked up. ‘Can I help you? I helped with the backpack, didn’t I?’

  ‘Noooooo, a police station is not a suitable place for a young girl.’

  ‘So it would be OK if I were a boy?’

  ‘I didn’t mean that. It’s not a suitable place for a young person full stop.’

  He’d dropped her off, arranging to pick her up again after noon, before heading back the way he’d come to Stretford.

  ‘I can take the tram, you know. I’m old enough now.’

  ‘It’s not a problem, I’ll pick you up. I don’t want you walking around town on your own.’

  ‘But I like window shopping, and you don’t like to go with me.’

  There it was again. The unspoken accusation. Mum did like to go window shopping with her. ‘I’ll take you when this case is finished.’

  ‘There’s always another case, Dad. The bad people in Manchester don’t stop what they’re doing just because you want to take me shopping.’

  With that final admonition, she opened the car door, fixed her mask across her face, slung her backpack over her shoulder and sloped off to her Chinese class.

  The others were already waiting for him in the situation room.

  ‘Sorry I’m late again. Let’s get down to it. Anything more on Patricia Patterson, Emily?’

  The detective shook her head. ‘I have a description of her car and the clothes she was wearing on the day she disappeared. Her boss said she didn’t turn up for work that day.’

  ‘But she left to go there?’

  ‘According to her partner.’

  ‘Was she meeting somebody? Not going straight in to work?’

  ‘Not according to her partner.’

  ‘Right, let’s circulate a description of the car…’

  ‘A red Ford Fiesta, registration GW05 PB1.’

  ‘Oliver, you need to check ANPR for last Wednesday. See if you can find out what happened to the car.’

  ‘Right, Ridpath.’

  ‘Dave, how did you get on with Gerald Duffy?’

  ‘An interesting character, a bit of a loner. He was thirty-four when he disappeared—’

  ‘Disappeared?’

  ‘Another one. This time in 2017. Vanished one day, nobody has seen him since.’

  ‘Who reported him missing?’

  ‘That’s it. Nobody did. I went to his old flat in Fallowfield and a neighbour said he just vanished without trace one day. Didn’t take any of his stuff either. Just disappeared.’

  ‘Can we get a CSI team down to the flat?’

  ‘No point, Ridpath. According to the landlord, it’s been let to multiple tenants since 2017.’

  ‘What about the stuff he left behind?’

  ‘Sold by the landlord in lieu of rent. Nothing left.’

  ‘There must be something we can do? What about his job? Where did he work?’

  Dave consulted his notes. ‘He had a variety of jobs, the last one with a bakery in Wythenshawe.’

  ‘What jobs?’

  ‘Taxi driver, shelf stacker at Waitrose, and then at the bakery as a labourer. He also volunteered with the scouts in the evenings, but stopped doing it in 2013.’

  ‘Any link to Daisy House?’

  ‘None I can see so far. There’s not a lot on him, Ridpath. I can keep digging, if you want.’

  ‘Yeah, keep going, Dave, you might find something. Chrissy, anything from your side?’

  Despite the proximity to United’s ground, the civilian researcher was wearing a full light blue and white City outfit.

  ‘The Etihad isn’t open, why are you decked out in the gear?’

  ‘Habit, isn’t it, on a Saturday.’

  ‘You mean you’ve been wearing this stuff every weekend throughout lockdown?’

  ‘Yeah, me and the lads sit in front of the box watching the games. Life and football doesn’t stop because of some poxy virus. Wouldn’t know what to do with myself otherwise. You should see my husband.’

  ‘No, thanks. Anyway, what do you have for us?’

  Oliver was poised with his pen next to one of the whiteboards.

  ‘You asked me to pass the toothbrush to Hannah, which I did. She texted me this morning, she’ll be joining us as soon as she can on Zoom.’

  ‘Good, hopefully she has something.’

  ‘I checked out the three names not charged by CPS.’ She pointed to the whiteboard, where ‘Robert Dunphy – Social Worker, Patricia Patterson – Social Worker, Peter Clarke – Odd Job Man’ were all printed. ‘None of them were on the Sexual Offenders Register.’

  ‘What charges did the investigating team want to press?’

  ‘Aiding and abetting an offence against a child under the Accessories and Abettors Act 1861 section eight. In addition, Robert Dunphy was questioned under the Sexual Offences Act 2003 section seventeen for abuse of position of trust: causing or inciting a child to engage in sexual activity. But like I said, nobody was charged by CPS for lack of evidence—’

  Emily interrupted. ‘I talked to my mate on Operation Pharaoh. He told me they thought these three were involved but couldn’t prove it, and CPS felt none of the witnesses would stand up in court. So CPS went with the four they were certain would be convicted.’ She shook her head and her voice became more agitated. ‘We let these people back into the community so they could offend again because the CPS didn’t want to spoil their conviction record.’

  ‘I checked their records. There is no evidence of them ever offending again, Emily,’ said Chrissy.

  The detective sergeant shook her head.

  ‘Anything else, Chrissy?’

  ‘That’s me done.’

  ‘Right, we asked ourselves some questions yesterday. What links Joseph Rowlands, Jane Ryder, Gerald Duffy and now Patricia Patterson?’


  ‘The one consistent factor is Daisy House Children’s Home.’ Emily had her voice and her emotions back under control.

  ‘But that’s not true, is it? The first two have links, but Gerald Duffy and Patricia Patterson don’t seem connected to it.’

  ‘Or we don’t know what the connection is yet.’

  ‘Right, Dave, can you check if Gerald Duffy had any links to the children’s home? And Emily, follow up with Patricia Patterson’s partner. Did she ever work at Daisy House?’

  ‘She’s not on the list, but she may have volunteered there.’

  ‘Find out.’

  ‘Will do.’

  ‘There’s one other thing.’ Ridpath walked over to the pictures Sophia had discovered on the internet of the Mad Ferret Festival. ‘Who is this man, and what was his link to Jane Ryder?’

  ‘She obviously knows him,’ said Emily, ‘knows him quite well. Look at her body language, leaning in towards him.’

  ‘We could see if we could match him through facial recognition?’ said Chrissy. ‘Probably a blind alley, but worth a check.’

  ‘Can you arrange it with the digital team on the fifth floor? And we need it right now, not sometime in the next millennia.’

  ‘Will do, they owe me more favours than United has last-minute penalties.’

  Ridpath thought for a moment before walking back to the front of the room. ‘All the people involved with Daisy House have either died or gone missing. Now the same has happened to Patricia Patterson. We need to find her as soon as possible.’

  ‘I’ve had a text from Hannah. She has something for us.’

  They quickly set up the laptop. Hannah’s face beamed out to them from her lab.

  ‘Hiya, I have some good news and some bad news.’

  ‘The good news first, Hannah, I’ve had enough bad news to last me a lifetime,’ said Ridpath.

  ‘We expedited the testing, managing to obtain enough usable DNA from the female hand in the backpack to compare it with DNA taken from the toothbrush…’

  ‘And?’

  ‘Here’s the bad news. It’s not Jane Ryder. We’ll run the tests again to check, though. Do you have any other DNA samples for her?’

  Ridpath thought of the hairbrush lying on the dresser at the Ryders.

  ‘I’ll ask Sophia to get a hairbrush, if it will help.’

  ‘Perfect, but honestly, the two samples were different on all the SNPs we took. Unless the toothbrush didn’t belong to Jane Ryder, I’m not hopeful of a match.’

  ‘The chain of custody was unbroken,’ said Chrissy.

  ‘We’ll get you the hairbrush today, Hannah. Thanks for all your work.’

  ‘Sorry I couldn’t be more helpful.’

  Ridpath cut the connection. ‘Right, Oliver, we have two new questions for the board.’

  The young detective was ready with his marker pen.

  ‘Whose hand was in the backpack? And secondly, what happened to Jane Ryder?’

  None of the assembled detectives tried to answer. The only sound was the squeak of pen on whiteboard.

  Finally, Emily spoke. ‘You know, Ridpath, it strikes me if all these people were connected to Daisy House, what we have here is a giant conspiracy. It also makes me ask a third question. Were people being murdered to cover up something that happened long ago in the children’s home? And, if that’s true, what the hell happened?’

  ‘Write it down, Oliver,’ Ridpath ordered.

  As DC Davis wrote the question on the whiteboard, Ridpath’s phone rang. He answered it, saying, ‘Yes, yes, at once and yes,’ before ending the call.

  He looked up at all the detectives in front of him. ‘I’ve just been summoned to Police HQ. Claire Trent and Turnbull want an update.’

  Chapter 65

  They were both waiting for him when he arrived.

  ‘Come in, sit down,’ ordered Turnbull.

  When he had settled himself in front of them, Turnbull simply barked, ‘Update, and make it brief. I don’t want to be here on a Saturday when I could be on the golf course.’

  Ridpath took a deep breath and counted silently to three. This man was deliberately goading him, trying to provoke a reaction. The team was working twenty-four seven trying to crack the case and all his erstwhile boss cared about was a round of golf. He could feel his face becoming redder and redder.

  ‘Have you made any progress, Ridpath?’ Claire Trent’s voice was softer, more emollient.

  ‘We have made a lot in the last couple of days. Firstly, we know the names of two of the people who had their hands amputated. They were Joseph Rowlands and Gerald Duffy. We are still testing the third hand.’

  ‘So what links Rowlands and Duffy?’ asked Claire Trent.

  ‘A great question. We’re not certain at the moment. We think it could be Daisy House.’

  ‘The children’s home where the backpack was found by the film crew?’

  Ridpath nodded. ‘Joseph Rowlands worked there as a gardener, and Duffy may have been connected to the place, perhaps as a volunteer. We have information Jane Ryder was a resident at Daisy House, too.’

  ‘Hold on, who is Jane Ryder?’ asked Turnbull.

  ‘She’s the missing person case Ridpath has been working on for the coroner,’ Claire Trent answered for him. ‘What has she got to do with the case?’

  ‘The backpack in which the hands were found. We think it belonged to her.’

  ‘Think?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘But you don’t know?’

  ‘We’re pretty certain. It’s limited edition, and Mr Ryder bought exactly the same one for his daughter. We have pictures of her with it on the day she disappeared in 2009.’

  ‘You have pictures of her with it at the children’s home?’ asked Claire Trent.

  ‘No.’

  Turnbull smiled. ‘It’s circumstantial. Do you have proof it’s the same backpack?’

  ‘No, but we’re pretty sure.’

  ‘But you don’t know.’ Turnbull was pushing hard.

  Ridpath sighed. ‘Correct.’

  ‘What happened to the backpack between 2009 and when it was found last Tuesday morning?’ demanded Turnbull.

  ‘We don’t know.’

  ‘More stuff you don’t know.’ A triumphant glance from Turnbull to his boss. ‘Anything you do know?’

  ‘We are convinced the hands in the backpack and the disappearance of Jane Ryder are linked.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘We don’t know… yet.’

  Another smirk from Turnbull. ‘Where are the bodies of the victims?’

  ‘We don’t know.’

  ‘Why were the hands removed?’

  Ridpath stayed silent.

  ‘I presume you don’t know.’ A dramatic pause. ‘Do you have any suspects?’

  Ridpath shook his head.

  ‘Persons of interest?’

  Ridpath stared at him.

  ‘Or even any witnesses you haven’t interviewed yet?’

  ‘We have only been working on it for a few days, give us a break,’ snapped Ridpath, instantly regretting that he had lost his temper.

  Turnbull sat back in his chair and crossed his arms over his large chest.

  ‘Do you have any leads?’ Claire Trent asked.

  ‘Two possibles. One is Patricia Patterson, the social worker involved with Jane Ryder.’

  ‘I presume you will be interviewing her.’

  Ridpath waited before quietly saying, ‘She’s disappeared.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘She vanished last Wednesday, the day after the hands were found.’

  ‘Isn’t that suspicious?’ Claire Trent sat upright in her chair.

  ‘We think so. We’re looking for her at the moment.’

  ‘You said there were two possibles.’

  ‘The other is a man in the picture with Jane Ryder the day she disappeared.’ He dug out a copy from the file. ‘This man. We want to know who he is and how he is linked to Jane.’

  ‘A
long shot. The picture was taken in 2009.’

  ‘We can hope. Chrissy is getting the facial recognition people on it today.’

  ‘More resource and time.’

  ‘I can’t investigate this case, DCI Turnbull, without using them,’ snapped Ridpath.

  Another smile. ‘Remember you have until Monday.’

  ‘Speaking of Monday,’ interrupted Claire Trent, ‘Mrs Challinor and I have agreed she will go ahead with her inquest calling her preliminary witnesses. I have already briefed the Police Legal Service to be there and to request a postponement of the inquest pending our further enquiries.’

  ‘Mrs Challinor told me last night.’

  ‘Afterwards, MIT’s involvement will gradually be phased out and the inquiry will be passed to the Cold Case Unit.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘We can’t waste any more time or resources on it.’ Turnbull was smiling.

  ‘But we’re actually getting somewhere. We need more time. There may be other victims and other deaths.’

  ‘It will be for Chief Inspector Holburt and his team at the Cold Case Unit to decide. Not us. You have until Monday, Ridpath.’

  ‘But that’s unfair, I need more time. We could be dealing with a serial killer here.’

  The two senior detectives stared at him, before Turnbull asked, ‘What is your evidence there is a serial killer operating in Manchester? Three hands that may or may not have been linked to a children’s home?’

  Ridpath wished he’d stayed quiet. ‘There seems to be a pattern in the deaths. Perhaps the hands were trophies kept by the killer.’

  ‘What’s his reason for killing?’ asked Claire Trent.

  ‘We don’t know yet.’

  ‘Have you confirmed a link between all three hands?’

  ‘Not yet. It could be Daisy House. There could be a conspiracy to cover up something that happened in the past there.’ Ridpath realised how vague his words sounded.

  ‘Listen to yourself. So many weasel words and not a shred of hard evidence. If you’re so convinced these hands in a backpack are linked to Daisy House, have you interviewed any of the former residents?’

  Ridpath looked down.

  ‘Spoken to any of the staff?’

  Ridpath didn’t answer.

  ‘Have you even compiled a list of residents? People you could ask if anything criminal occurred that might lead to a conspiracy or a cover-up?’