Greco said nothing for a few seconds. He was hoping this wasn’t the case, because it meant that they probably had a serial killer on their hands.
“Thank you. Useful information,” he said.
Chapter 3
The main office was crowded. Greco’s people were there — Grace, Jed Quickenden and DC Craig Merrick, and a couple of uniformed officers. DCI Colin Green and DI Westbury, who led the other team at the station, were also present.
Greco stood by the incident board. He pinned up the photo of Jessie Weston and wrote some notes. “You all know why we’re here,” he began. He looked round the room. He wished they would all sit down. It would have made the room look neater. Most were holding mugs of tea or coffee. Cups littered the desks. The untidiness of the room was disturbing his concentration. He had to get a grip on himself.
“Sir!” Quickenden approached the board. “It really wasn’t my fault that I was late for the PM.”
“Now isn’t the time, Sergeant,” Greco told him.
“It was the lad, Jonathan Weston,” he continued. “He went to pieces. He was okay when I went to the flat, weirdly okay in fact, but when he saw her . . .” Quickenden shook his head. “It was like something took him over. It was all me and the uniform could do to hold him down.”
“So what happened?” Greco asked, interested despite himself.
“He identified her, then he started to trash the place. He threw a chair across the room and attacked the mortuary attendant.”
“You calmed him down though?”
“The Duggan security people took over. I had to leave them to it. I gave the PC the job of taking him home and came to join you.”
“Sir!” DC Grace Harper interrupted. “I knew her.”
“You knew the victim, Jessie Weston? Are you sure?”
“Yes, but I haven’t spoken to her in a while. She wasn’t one of my close friends or anything. We’re the same age, both brought up on the Link. We used to go to the same school, Oldston Comp. If I saw her in a pub or round the town, we’d speak, have a quick update, but that’s all.”
“When did you last speak to her?”
“It’s got to be last summer,” Grace Harper replied. “She was in the park when I was there with Holly. But I do know that in recent times she had a boyfriend.”
“That could be the young man in the photo.” Greco tapped it. “Do you want to give us a quick background report? It would be useful.”
Of the three of them — she, Quickenden and Merrick, Grace was the brightest. She was also the most ambitious. She was held back because she was a single parent, with all the childcare problems that came along with it. Greco had come to appreciate her situation in recent times.
He rapped on the desk in front of him.
“You all know what’s happened,” he began. “The PM report, bar toxicology, will be on the system later today.” He looked at Georgina Booth, the station’s information officer, known to everyone as George. “You will all liaise with Georgina with regard to HOLMES. Each of you will enter everything you get individually, and George will produce consolidated reports on a daily basis. Are you okay with that?”
George nodded.
“For the duration of the case, Georgina will be assigned exclusively to your team,” DCI Green said.
That was something at least. George was good at what she did, but usually she was shared between the different teams. It was more cost-cutting that Greco didn’t approve of. He knew she would appreciate having a larger role in the investigation.
“It’s important that we all get acquainted with Jessie Weston’s world quickly,” Greco told them. “Grace knew her, so she will give us the benefit of a background briefing.” He smiled at the DC, and moved aside. She was wearing her long blonde hair loose today. It softened her appearance and bobbed on her shoulders as she walked. Grace Harper was still only in her twenties, but her life had been hard. It showed in her face. Scraping her long hair back into a ponytail, the way she usually wore it, did little for her.
“I didn’t know her well, not recently. It was more a school thing. Jessie came from a difficult family. Like most folk on the Link, the Westons had little money and the kids’ father did a runner early on. Mark, her brother, has been in bother numerous times for shoplifting and burglary. He’s not all there,” she said, looking at Speedy, “which was why he’ll have kicked off at the mortuary. Mavis Weston, their mother, is something else though. She’s a real force to be reckoned with. Back in the day, all the kids on the Link were terrified of her, me included. But she did love her own kids, and neither of them has left home yet. Jessie’s had lots of jobs, but recently she worked at the Crown Inn. I’ve seen her there a couple of times. She did a few night shifts and all the lunchtimes. People liked her, she was a good laugh.”
“Tell us about the boyfriend,” Greco prompted.
“There was a rumour a few months ago that she was going out with Frankie Farr. You know, of Farr Construction fame, that bloke who’s always shoving up houses around here. I found it hard to believe because they’re just so different.” She paused. “Jessie was okay in her own environment, but she’s leagues away from the world Frankie moves in. He’s got money for a start. But the rumours were true. They were seen in the Crown, sat together in a corner, kissing and canoodling.”
“Why were you so surprised?” Greco asked.
“To put it bluntly, Jessie was dead common. She wouldn’t take offence either, if you said it to her. She knew what she looked like. She wore short skirts, low slung tops and flirted with anything in trousers — and not just flirting either. She got pregnant at fifteen. That resulted in one abortion, and I was told there were others since.”
“And Frankie Farr?”
“He’s from a close family. He’s an only child and a self-made business man. He’s a good-looking guy who could have anyone he wanted. So it always puzzled me why he chose to go around with Jessie of all people.”
“In that case we’ll be sure to ask him,” Greco said. “Thanks, Grace. That was very useful. It gives us a flavour of the girl.”
“Have we made arrangements for family liaison to keep an eye on the Westons?” DCI Green asked.
“Yes, sir. I contacted them when DS Quickenden was taking Jonathan to the Duggan,” George told them.
“I don’t fancy their chances, whoever it is. Mavis will eat them alive,” said Grace.
Greco tapped on the desk top. “Back to the investigation. We need to know what Jessie was up to yesterday. Last night is particularly important. Where had she been? Had she been working? If not, who’d she been with? What was she doing on Arnold Street? It’s in the opposite direction from the Link, where she lived. It was late, so where was she going? Had she upset someone? So far we have no obvious motive for such a horrific killing. It was premeditated and he was waiting for her. The man who killed her had time to light a fire, don’t forget.”
“My guess is she’d been working,” Quickenden offered.
“We don’t guess,” Greco said.
“We don’t know that the killer was targeting Jessie,” said Grace. “There is always the possibility that if this was the work of some nutcase, then any young woman walking down that road last night would’ve been a target.”
“Grace has a point. So keep an open mind. Grace and I will follow up on Jessie’s activities yesterday, but it’s important to look at that house, and the street as well,” he said. “The house she was found in is up for sale. Craig . . .” he said to DC Craig Merrick. “You and Quickenden will speak to the estate agents, Harvey & Son, in Oldston Centre. Who has been to view or shown an interest in the property recently? Find the owner and speak to him. Go down that street and speak to the neighbours. But be careful. Ask but don’t give anything away. We don’t want to reveal any of the details. Jessie was murdered, and that’s as far as we go. The press have already got hold of this. Once they smell the truth about what’s happened, we’ll not get rid of them. While you’re talk
ing to the neighbours, find out who’d lived in that house previously. It looked as if it was being refurbished. Someone else may have had a key — a workman, a friend, or a neighbour.”
They looked serious and businesslike, and were all taking notes. The team had come a long way since their first case together. Except for Quickenden. He was standing by the window, his attention on something going on outside. Greco looked at him.
“There’s a bunch of reporters out there now, sir, waiting for us,” he said. “I spotted Laycock from the Herald, and that chap from the Manchester paper has joined him. The rest are from the smaller, local papers. No TV or radio yet, thank goodness.”
“We ignore them. We’ll hold a press conference when we’re ready.”
“I’ll have a word,” DCI Green said. “Fob them off for now.”
“We need to get on with this quickly. Back here at five to collate what we’ve got,” said Greco.
* * *
Grace was pleased the inspector had chosen her and not Speedy to join him. That would be down to her having known Jessie. She was under no illusions that it was anything else. Greco was no womaniser. He was back with his ex-wife and seemed happier. He was certainly a lot easier to work with nowadays. It was a shame though. He was the type of man women drooled over, and Grace was no exception. She doubted he was even aware of it.
“You did well during the briefing,” he said as they went out. “That point about not targeting Jessie specifically, is a valid one. But if that is the case, then you know what it means?”
“Yes, sir. Like I said in there, we could be dealing with a psycho.”
“I sincerely hope not. If we are, then no woman in this town is safe until he’s caught.”
The minute they walked out of the door, the reporters were upon them. The questions came thick and fast. Cameras flashed and several pushed voice recorders in their faces.
“Got any suspects?” a voice called out. “What was done to her? Bad, I’ve heard.”
“Ignore them,” Greco muttered. He ushered Grace towards a car.
“You have to give us something, Inspector, or this lot will make it up!”
This was Oliver Laycock from the Oldston Herald. Grace recognised him from the photo on his weekly column. He was somewhere in his mid-forties, tall with black hair and a short cropped beard.
“I would suggest you don’t do that, Mr Laycock,” Greco said, and stopped in front of him.
Laycock grinned at Greco. He moved aside to let a dark-haired female photographer through.
“Smile, Inspector! I’m sure my readers would like a picture. You’re very photogenic for a cop.”
Inside the car, Grace locked the door and started the engine. That reporter had got it right, whoever she was. As she prepared to move away, the camera was still flashing, and it wasn’t flashing at Grace. Before he’d patched things up with Suzy, Grace had hoped that she and Greco might get close. She’d dropped enough hints. She’d even helped him with childcare when Suzy had dumped his little girl on him. He’d been grateful, and it had changed their relationship, but not in the way she’d hoped. He was more open, less standoffish with her. But, wife or not, the more Grace got to know him, the more she realised that there was never going to be anything between them. Greco didn’t mix work and pleasure. He kept all his colleagues at arm’s length and only rarely joined them for a drink in the pub.
Grace pulled away, heading towards the centre of town. The female photographer kept flashing away at them. “She likes you,” Grace joked.
“She wants a story, that’s all.”
“She said you were photogenic.”
“Like I said, a story. And if she thinks a bit of flattery will get her anywhere, she’s very wrong.”
“There’s nothing wrong with flirting, sir.” Grace bit her tongue. Why did she have to say that?
“There is when you’re a married man. And anyway, reporters aren’t my cup of tea.” He chuckled.
Grace felt her cheeks flush. “Sorry, sir. Slip of the tongue. I didn’t mean anything by it. But you’re not actually married, are you? You and Suzy are divorced.”
“A formality,” he assured her. “We will put things right very soon.”
Amazing. He hadn’t shut her out. He didn’t seem to mind talking about his family with her. With everyone else it was very much a no go area.
“The press are really going to make this difficult,” he said, looking into the rear mirror. “You recognised Laycock?”
“Only from his column. Some of the stuff he writes makes my blood boil, but I’ve never had a run in with him before.”
“I think we’re being followed.”
“The red saloon? I spotted it. I’ll try and lose it. I’ll take a run up the bypass first, put them off the scent. Then I thought the Crown? Speak to the staff. Check what shifts Jessie worked yesterday, and what time she left.”
“My thoughts too,” he said. “After which, I suppose we’ll have to speak to her mother.”
“God help us. Mavis won’t be pleased. She hates the police, and given what’s happened she’s bound to blame us,” Grace replied.
“That’s hardly logical.”
“Mavis isn’t logical. She’ll be emotional and angry and she’ll want to vent that anger on someone.”
Grace took them down the bypass towards Manchester and then around the first roundabout. By the time they were back in Oldston, the red saloon had disappeared.
“The Crown has a car park but I’ll hide ours round the back,” she said.
“What’s this place like?”
“I’ve not been here in a while. You know how it is, getting babysitters and all that. The last time I came here they were doing meals. The food wasn’t bad either.”
“Me and Suzy could do with finding somewhere local and decent to eat.”
“Hope you have better luck than I did. I was halfway through the pudding when I got a phone call to say that Holly had a temperature.” She rolled her eyes. “I haven’t bothered much since then.”
“Who runs this place?”
“A woman called Megan Hunter. She’s okay, doesn’t stand for any bother. She’s a friend of my mother’s.”
It was three in the afternoon and, apart from a couple finishing a late lunch, the pub was empty.
Grace spoke to the woman behind the bar. “DC Harper and DI Greco. Oldston CID.”
“Jessie?” The woman’s face dropped. “I can’t get my head round it. She was only here last night, stood where you are now,” she said, nodding at Greco.
“Are you Megan Hunter?” said Greco.
“Yes. I’m the landlady.” She beamed at Grace. “You okay, Grace? Enjoying the job?”
Grace smiled back, and nodded. “What hours did Jessie work yesterday?”
“She did the lunchtime shift, twelve to four. She was back in at nine and stayed until eleven thirty. She was fine, laughing and chatting with the punters. There were no problems, nothing unusual. I just don’t get it.”
“Did she leave with anyone?” Greco asked.
“No. She did tell me earlier on that Frankie was picking her up, but then she got a text. Apparently he couldn’t make it. Had a better offer, if you ask me.”
Megan Hunter folded her arms and tucked them under her chest.
“I take it you don’t like him much?” Grace said.
“He’s flash and mouthy. He looks like class but that’s a sham, believe me. I don’t care what school he went to or how wealthy his family is — that young man is trouble.”
“Anything in particular?” Grace said.
“He started a fight in here last weekend, all over nothing. Some bloke slapped Jessie on the backside and he was off. Jumped over the table and wrestled him to the floor.”
Grace shot Greco a look. This was a side of Frankie Farr she hadn’t known about.
“He might look like a well-mannered, businessman type, but that’s just the gloss. I think that’s why he liked Jessie so much. He
recognised a kindred spirit. With her he could be himself, act natural. He didn’t have to put on that front of his.” Megan Hunter winked. “The one with you looks okay, Grace. Your mother would approve.”
Grace blushed. God knows what Greco must think. They weren’t here for a drink, for pity’s sake. They were investigating a murder. “Did Frankie Farr come in here at all yesterday?” she said.
“Not as I remember.” Megan paused. “No. Last time he was in was the night before. And that night he took Jessie home. She came into work yesterday, so everything must have been fine.”
“Did Jessie spend time with anyone else yesterday? Did anyone bother her last night? Ask to meet up after her shift?”
“No, I don’t think so. We were run off our feet to be honest. Oldston United were playing at home and the ground is only down the road.”
“Thanks, Megan. You’ve been a help. We might need to talk to you again though.” Grace smiled.
“Come back anytime. And bring your dishy bloke with you!” They returned to the car.
Grace was blushing again. “Sorry about that, sir.”
“It’s okay, Grace.”
“What do you think? What she said about Frankie Farr — that’s not how I saw him at all,” said Grace.
“Megan Hunter has no reason to lie, and she sees more of him than you do. We’ll speak to him, and see what we think. Jessie’s movements yesterday seem straightforward enough. But if she wasn’t seeing Frankie and she wasn’t going home, then what was she doing on Arnold Street?”
“Even if Megan Hunter didn’t hear it, Jessie could have arranged to meet someone. Like I said at the briefing, Jessie was a bit of a man-eater. Anything in trousers . . .”
“Is it likely, given she had Frankie Farr on her case?”
“With the Jessie I knew, highly likely. She had precious few scruples and wouldn’t think twice if the offer was good enough.”
“Fancy tackling Mavis now?”
“We’ll go to the flat, and see if she’s back yet. If she isn’t, then we’d better find Frankie Farr. See what he’s got to say for himself.”
Complete Detective Stephen Greco Box Set Page 22