Complete Detective Stephen Greco Box Set

by Helen H. Durrant

  “So the money was a thank you for finding him that day?”

  “The money was meant to salve her conscience more like,” she scoffed.

  “What was his name?”

  “Liam Donnelly, but I only found that out later, the night she got drunk when Rose asked me about him.”

  “Why didn’t she give the money to whoever took him . . . raised him?”

  “Neither of us had any idea who that was,” Mavis explained. “Rose Donnelley had no idea who’d brought up her child. I couldn’t help her, even if I’d wanted to, because I’ve no idea either.”

  “Thank you, Mrs Bailey. You’ve been a great help.”

  * * *

  “I don’t see what this has got to do with anything,” Craig said as soon as they got back into the car.

  “Is that why you were so quiet back there? You need to get stuck in, Craig. Should you find yourself out with the boss again, then try to make an impression.”

  “I’m not like you. For now I’m happy where I am. Anyway I don’t see what Mavis Bailey has to do with anything.”

  “We’ll dig out the records when we get back to the station and go from there. The child was part of Rose’s past. We’ve no idea what happened to him. He could be anyone, Craig, and he might have one almighty chip on his shoulder.”

  It took George less than half an hour to find the right file on the system. It seemed there had been a child found on Link Road. He’d spent a few hours at the police station and then his mother had claimed him. A report had gone out on the local radio and she’d come forward. That was all the report said. The woman’s name was Judith Calf.

  “Dead end, then,” Craig nodded. “Makes nonsense of what Mavis Bailey told us. Judith Calf wouldn’t have got him back if he’d been ill-treated. Mavis must have got mixed up.”

  “Mavis seemed sure enough to me,” Grace replied, thoughtfully.

  “I still don’t know what it has to do with anything.”

  “This needs looking at further. If the boy did belong to Rose and Gibbs, then why would a stranger claim him? Whatever is at the bottom of this it might be an idea to know where he is today.”

  “If he belonged to this Calf woman then he’s none of our business.”

  Grace shrugged, “We just don’t know.”

  * * *

  “Who’d have a motive?” Greco asked, entering the office.

  “Liam Donnelly, sir,” Grace announced.

  “I take it that’s someone related to Rose?”

  “From what Mavis Bailey told us, her son — hers and Grady Gibbs’s.”

  “He told me he didn’t know her.” He shook his head. “Tell me about this boy and his supposed motive.”

  “According to the report the kid that was found was claimed by a Judith Calf and had nothing to do with Gibbs and Donnelly,” Craig reminded them.

  Greco scratched his head. “Craig, go and look it up. Find out if Rose did have a son. It shouldn’t take long. If she did, then we can find out what happened to him.”

  Grace gave him a quick rundown of what Mavis Bailey had told them. “If the lad is theirs, then he could have a motive. He could have been harbouring resentment for years.”

  It was certainly puzzling. Why would a woman claim a child that wasn’t hers? But if he was hers, then what had happened to the child Rose had given birth to?

  “In the meantime I’m having Gibbs’s flat searched,” he told them. “The CSI people are there now. Whatever they take away they’ll rush through for us.”

  Greco went through one or two statements and was making notes on the board when Craig rejoined them.

  “Rose Donnelly gave birth to a boy, Liam, twenty-one years ago, sir,” he confirmed.

  “Mavis Bailey was right on that score,” Grace said looking up from her desk.

  “Oh and Gibbs’s brief wants a word,” Craig added.

  “Who’s he got?”

  “It’s only the duty solicitor but today that’s Conrad Hughes.” Merrick pulled a face.

  Greco hadn’t worked at Oldston for long but it was long enough to have had a number of run-ins with Hughes.

  “Where is he?”

  “Soft interview room, sir.”

  Greco left them and walked off down the corridor. He had a lot to think about. They needed to find Liam Donnelly and speak to him. Grace should go and talk to Mavis Bailey again and firm up her story about Rose and the child she’d found. In the meantime he had Conrad Hughes to deal with.

  Whatever Hughes threw at him he wasn’t about to let Gibbs go. Like Quickenden, he doubted Gibbs was the killer but he had a shrewd idea that he knew who was.

  “Inspector!” Hughes greeted him with one of his smiles — the one that didn’t reach the eyes. “I have to insist that you let my client out of here.”

  “Your client is holding back valuable information,” Greco told him. “I need him to talk to me, candidly; perhaps you’d like to advise him of that. I’m looking for a cold-blooded killer, so Gibbs stays here.”

  “I hear what you say, Inspector. Speak to Mr Gibbs one more time but if he can’t help, then he must be released.”

  “Won’t help, more likely,” Greco corrected. “The man takes a perverse pleasure in keeping information from the police. Information that we badly need, Mr Hughes.”

  “Rubbish. He knows the score.”

  “He knows the system and how to use it, you mean.”

  “Sir!” Craig Merrick came into the room. “You’re needed.”

  “I’ll let you know when I’m ready to resume with Mr Grady. In the meantime I suggest you go back to your client and advise him to be more helpful.”

  He turned to Craig, “What is it?”

  “The DCI, sir — and the Super.”

  It must be something major to tempt Superintendent Wilkes down from the top floor. Greco would have to see what was so urgent but first he needed to wash his hands. He’d been in the same room as Gibbs and the man was a mess. After several minutes of scrubbing Greco walked along to DCI Green’s office, where the two men sat at the desk.

  “Come in, Stephen, and close the door behind you.”

  Major, then, and not for general consumption.

  “You’ve been made aware of the terrorist cell in Oldston?” Superintendent Wilkes asked.

  Greco nodded.

  “We’ve had a warning. One of Webb’s coaches, currently parked up at a motorway services near Stafford, has an explosive device aboard. You know the firm, I believe?”

  “Inasmuch as the first victim in our current case worked there,” Greco replied. “Was the warning similar to the one we had about the shopping centre?”

  “Yes; delivered by email and the language was similar.”

  He said nothing but Greco knew that sending out warning messages wasn’t the method terrorists currently favoured. They tended to strike first and claim credit afterwards.

  “Do we have a passenger list?” DCI Green handed him a sheet. Instantly he saw the name Darren Hopper. “There is a Tanweer Hussain on here,” he commented, ignoring the obvious one. “Is he a member of the tobacco smuggling Hussain family?”

  “Yes, he is,” the DCI nodded. “But they won’t be smuggling anything anymore. A team have been sent from Central to bring in Kashif, and the younger brother, Arif. Tanweer will be apprehended once we find him. He and Darren Hopper absconded from the scene and disappeared onto the motorway system.”

  “So they were working together?”

  “We reckon so. They left the café area wearing disguises — burqas, would you believe?”

  “What do you want from my team, sir?”

  “Both men live in Oldston. They could well come back, so tell your people to keep their eyes skinned.”

  “How are your enquiries going with regard to the murders, Stephen?” the super asked.

  “We’re getting there, sir. I’m about to interview a suspect now, actually. The forensic evidence is building, so I’m hopeful.” Not strictly true
, but it would have to do for now.

  He decided not to say anything about Hopper providing Gibbs with an alibi. That could mean getting into boggy ground where Quickenden was concerned. For reasons Greco couldn’t quite rationalise, he wanted to protect him if he could.

  “Grace, are you ready?” he asked as he entered the main office.

  “Yes, sir, but the Duggan have been on. Professor Batho would like to speak to you.”

  Greco sat at his desk and rang him.

  “Inspector, my team have removed several items from the flat of Mr Gibbs. More prints have been found — matching those on the phone and the laptop, and also a set belonging to Darren Hopper. The laptop is interesting for a number of reasons. From our point of view I shall swab the keys for DNA other than that of Mr Gibbs but it’s the software that has our IT people intrigued.”

  The fact that Gibbs had a laptop, at all, surprised Greco.

  “Is your suspect computer savvy? Would you say he has the intelligence to set up complex software?”

  “Intelligent, after a fashion, I suppose . . . I'm sure he has developed an entire arsenal of nefarious skills honed over a lifetime of criminal activity. Plus the ability to deliver a razor sharp verbal jab. But apart from that he's not the most educated, no.”

  “The laptop uses the Tor network. We’re struggling to find out anything at all. For example, what websites were accessed, what email was sent and received.”

  “Tor. So there’s nothing left for the Internet Service Provider to tell us about?”

  “That’s about the size of it. So the question is, what was your Mr Gibbs up to in the flat of his?”

  “Thank you, Professor, I’ll be sure to ask him.”

  Greco replaced the handset and nodded at Grace. “Time to speak to Gibbs. I hope he’s in the mood, because the list of questions has just got longer.”

  * * *

  “You get me out of here; I don’t care what it costs,” Geegee barked at Hughes. “I’ve got stuff to do, folk to see and this is pissing me off big style.”

  “They have nothing, so relax. I’ll have you home in time for tea.” The solicitor smiled.

  “Here we go.” Geegee nudged him as Greco and Grace walked into the room. “Speedy running scared?” he jibed at them both.

  “Tell me about your friends, Mr Gibbs,” Greco said as they sat down.

  “Waste of bloody time unless they can do something for me.” He grinned.

  “Who have you had in your flat recently — say during the last week?”

  “No one.”

  “We both know that’s not true. A number of fresh prints have been found — Darren Hopper’s for example.”

  “Oh yeah, forgot about him; he was with me when I found that watch. He must have come back to my place then.”

  “Who else? Because there is someone, someone who knows about computers.”

  Geegee eyed Greco with suspicion. They must have the laptop. The lad had said they’d get nowt, that they could examine it until the cows came home but they’d never crack it. He’d told him to keep his gob shut about anything he’d seen. Geegee hoped he was right.

  “No one,” he insisted with irritation. “Look, you got anything or what?” He nudged his solicitor. “Come on, earn your bloody money. I want out of here.”

  He gave Greco a resentful look. This bastard was getting too close. He needed to talk to the lad. “Sometimes folk come back after a session in the Spinners. I don’t know who, I sometimes have to be taken home.”

  “See? My client is trying to help,” Hughes insisted. “So charge him or let him go.”

  “Come on, copper, you heard the man. You’ve got nowt but a few prints and a knackered laptop.”

  “Why is it knackered, Mr Gibbs?”

  “I can’t use it, can’t make it work properly.”

  “So you maintain that it’s broken?”

  “That’s it, yeah.”

  “No, it isn’t, Mr Gibbs. Your laptop is heavily protected, and it uses software deliberately engineered to stop people prying into what you do online. Why is that?”

  Geegee squinted at him. He’d no idea what the lad did on the thing. But whatever it was, it worked, that’s all he cared about. Occasionally he’d use it, if the kid said so. But he was always given exact instructions, told what to key in. The kid had assured him that they needed it to ensure that the drugs came in. That he used it to contact his dodgy friends in Amsterdam. Also that he was using it to plan a neat little scam to get rid of the Hussains. “Don’t know about that. It’s as it came out of the box.”

  The copper was staring at him. Geegee could see from his face that he didn’t believe a word, but what did it matter? Without cracking that laptop they had nothing, that’s what the lad would say.

  “Okay, Mr Hughes, your client is free to go,” Greco declared.

  Chapter 18

  It was late afternoon. The team were standing around the incident board watching Greco as he drew a diagram.

  “Brenda Hirst — her only link to any of this and to Gibbs in particular, is the watch. Rose Donnelly; her link to Gibbs is much stronger. They had a child together but hadn’t had contact in several years. The two women didn’t know each other but Rose’s phone was used to make that last call to Brenda.” He drew a series of lines to illustrate all this and stood back. “It’s likely that whoever killed Brenda took her phone. Is Gibbs at the centre of this or are we missing something?”

  “Granted he knew Rose, but he had no reason to kill her, sir,” Quickenden spoke up. “He’s rough, he deals dope and he’d prefer to fight rather than talk but he’s getting on these days. In my opinion he’s beginning to lose his edge. This,” he gestured to the board, “is way off for him.”

  “And that is the problem. If we’re looking at Gibbs, then we’re short on motive.”

  “Too late now, anyway, we’ve let him go, sir,” Grace reminded them all.

  “I had no choice. His brief was right; we have nothing concrete, nothing we can take to the CPS.”

  “We’re missing something, sir.” Craig was always ready with the obvious.

  Greco tapped the centre of the board. “Yes I know. It’s not Gibbs who belongs here but someone else.” He looked at them all. “So what is this all about? It has become apparent that Gibbs has an accomplice. Fingerprints were found on the phone, the laptop and all over the flat. Anyone got any ideas? Speedy, you’re always in the pub. Who does he talk to? Have you remembered any friends he might have enticed back to his place?”

  “The boss just called Jed Speedy,” Grace whispered to George. “He’s mellowing.” She smiled.

  “He drinks and he plays cards with the usual crew,” Quickenden replied. “They’re a rough lot, the whole bunch of them. The thing with the laptop, what’s that all about? If Geegee could use it, then it’d be to watch porn.”

  “A high-end laptop was found in his flat. It uses Tor software. We’ve no idea what it was used for because Tor makes everything anonymous. Whoever set things up made no mistakes and did a thorough job.”

  “Not Geegee, then.” Quickenden shook his head. “He can barely read.”

  “So who is it that’s helping him, and why?” Greco paused, looking at them then back at the board. “You know what this looks like to me? It looks as if someone is setting Gibbs up. I don’t do gut feelings, I prefer proof, but I’ve had the feeling for some time that evidence is being deliberately planted for us to find. The phone in Gibbs’s flat, the watch on the canal bank, someone wants him implicated.”

  “Why, sir?”

  “Someone wants him out of the way. Him, Rose and Brenda, though I can’t see where she fits into all this.”

  “The Hussains, sir?” Quickenden suggested. “Because of the drugs. Geegee gives them a lot of aggro. Perhaps they’ve decided to get rid once and for all.”

  “That might fit if it wasn’t for Rose and Brenda. Why would the Hussains want both women dead?”

  “To throw us off t
he scent,” Craig said.

  “We’ll see.” Greco wrote the name ‘Hussain’ on the board. “Kashif and Arif Hussain have been brought in. An explosive device has been found on one of Webb’s coaches. It pulled into a motorway services and was discovered there.”

  “Why would the Hussain family involve themselves in something like that?” Quickenden asked.

  “I believe Kashif has radical leanings.”

  “He’s an overweight windbag, sir. He likes attention and his ranting draws in the youth. He needs them, he supplies them, he makes a lot of money. He isn’t going to risk all that.”

  The office phone rang and Grace answered the call. “The DCI for you, sir.”

  They waited in silence as Greco listened. Once he’d finished he shook his head and looked at the team. “Kashif and Arif Hussain have been released. They were kept for less than an hour, it seems. As their lawyer so rightly said, we have nothing on them. It’s Tanweer we need.” Greco narrowed his eyes. “George, have a look at what we have on Kashif. I want to know where the rumours about him came from.”

  “Sir,” Grace said thoughtfully, “we still don’t know what happened to the child Gibbs and Rose had together. Perhaps it’s time we found out.”

  Greco nodded. She had a point.

  * * *

  Once he got out, Geegee made straight for the Spinners. He had a pounding head and needed a drink. He lit a fag, took a long hard pull and staggered off in the direction of the pub. A couple of stiff whiskeys would sort him out. After that he’d find the kid, see what was going on. “That lad been in?” He scowled at Les, who gave a high-pitched whistle.

  “What the fuck happened, Geegee? You look grim.”

  “Bloody coppers happened, mate. Kept me in and asked a lot of stupid questions. Couldn’t make owt stick though so they had to let me go — again. They’ve got me mixed up with some murderer. Just give me a large whiskey. I need to get the taste of them cells out of my gob.”

  “Would that be about the bodies found on the canalside?”