Complete Detective Stephen Greco Box Set

by Helen H. Durrant

  Horton smiled. “Weak bladder. An age thing.” He turned away and went back to his table.

  Grace checked her watch. She didn’t want the villain slipping off without a chat. With a backwards glance towards Greco, who was still deep in conversation with Sadie, she made for the entrance and the cloakrooms. No one was taking much notice, so she ducked into the gents. Luckily it was empty.

  “Mr Shaw!” she shouted. There was no reply. He’d obviously taken himself off to some quiet corner until she and Greco had left. Grace was wondering what questions he might be avoiding when something caught her eye. From under a door at the far end of the room there was a splatter of something on the floor. Stepping nearer for a closer look, Grace’s fears were realised.

  She darted forward and pushed the door open. It swung on its hinges to reveal another room containing half a dozen washbasins. On the floor, flat on his back in a spreading pool of blood, lay Slicer Shaw.

  Chapter 19

  Day 6

  “I’ve got all the addresses and statements from last night’s clientele. Not that they help much.” Joel Hough shook his head. “Apart from Sadie Costello and Jason Horton, none of them are known to us.”

  Greco stood in the gent’s cloakroom staring at the patch of dried blood. Bob Bowers, the pathologist, had arrived within an hour of Grace finding the body. Slicer Shaw was now on a slab at the Duggan. But how had it happened, and why? But more to the point, how come no one had seen or heard anything?

  Grace walked into the gent’s cloakroom and stood beside Greco. “I think that I might be the best witness we’ve got, sir. I’ve been thinking about this all night, running it over and over in my head. You were talking to Sadie, Slicer leaves you to it. I’m stood at the bar talking to some weirdo. I think that weirdo was our man. I think he was watching Slicer and chatting to me as a cover. He saw Slicer go towards the gents, gave me the brush-off and followed him in here.”

  “Ray Shaw was shot. One bullet to the chest. The Duggan will confirm if the bullet came from the same gun that killed Joe Tanner.”

  “Are you listening to what I’m saying? I think I spoke to him. I was as close to him as I am to you,” Grace said with feeling. “I just thought he was a bit odd. It never occurred to me that he was up to something.”

  Greco turned to look at her. “You can’t be sure though, can you, Grace? The fact of the matter is that anyone here last night could have killed Shaw.”

  “No, it was my weirdo. I know it was. I know it in my gut. Not something you go in for, but I do. The more I think about the comments he made, and his attitude, the more certain I am.”

  “In that case, help Joel pin him down on the CCTV footage he’s about to start wading through.”

  “Where is the camera, sir?”

  “At the entrance. So if he was in here, then we have him recorded.”

  “Did you get anything from Horton and the others?” she asked him.

  “Horton, no, and all Sadie Costello wanted to talk about was the good doctor’s gambling habit. I got the impression she was using that to stop me asking about other matters. Problem is, I don’t know what those other matters were.”

  “Did you not ask her?”

  “We were interrupted. Then you found the body and that was that.”

  “I had a chat with Horton about Sadie. Just my instinct twitching again, but I got the impression he was wary of her.”

  “I think our Miss Costello is smarter than she pretends. She orchestrated that conversation. She was making me think she was revealing stuff, when all the time she was steering the conversation.”

  “Well, at least we know who didn’t shoot Slicer. It couldn’t have been Horton or Sadie. The pair of them have you and me as alibis.”

  * * *

  The team were assembled in the incident room. Greco was updating the board while relaying to McCabe what had happened. The rest of them sat quietly, waiting.

  “Ray Shaw’s death leaves a huge hole in Costello’s operation,” Greco began. “He’ll want to fill it fast. It’s important that we find out who did it. But equally important is why. Is this a takeover bid, or something else?”

  “There have been no whispers, sir,” Leah added. “The streets have been quiet. No one is talking. I’ll see what the latest event has thrown up later. But from what I know already, I bet this is as much a mystery to the villains as it is to us.”

  “There is another aspect we haven’t considered,” Greco said. “Perhaps it is Costello himself who wanted rid of Shaw. There have been rumours.” He looked at Leah, who nodded.

  The team fell silent, considering this.

  Eventually Speedy said, “Slicer has run things smoothly around here for years. Why rock the boat?”

  “Villains do fall out,” Greco reminded him.

  “I think we’re looking at someone entirely new. An unknown face, who has been watching and worked out a strategy for a takeover,” Grace suggested.

  “That would take some guts!” Leah exclaimed. “If Costello got hold of him . . .” She shuddered. “Well, I wouldn’t want to be in his shoes.”

  “I put the theory forward because of someone I met at the club last night,” Grace explained. “An odd young man who I now think was playing games with me. He was certainly using me to pass the time while he kept an eye on Slicer. He knew I was police, even made a point of commenting on it. I think we should at least find out who he is and speak to him.”

  “You’re looking at the CCTV footage. You’ll pin him down soon enough. Leah, your informant may have heard something by now. There may be nothing on the streets about a takeover, but theories about Slicer’s death will be circulating. I want to know what is being said.

  “And you, Stephen?” McCabe asked.

  “I want to speak to Jason Horton. I want to know more about what he does at that clinic of his. I’d also like to know how he met Sadie Costello. She isn’t a woman you meet by chance.” He looked at Leah. “You might ask your informant if he knows anything about Rouse’s whereabouts while you’re at it.”

  “I can come with you,” McCabe suggested.

  “It’s okay, sir, I’ll take PC Dobbs with me.”

  The last thing Greco wanted was the super trying to take over. He was a good copper and all right in small doses, but Greco didn’t want to work in his shadow.

  He turned to Gareth Dobbs. “You can drive. I’ll see you in the car park.”

  Greco went to his office and re-read the file on the Rashid Clinic. There wasn’t much, certainly no mention of Horton doing anything that he didn’t charge top dollar for. If it came to it, he might have to interview Sadie Costello again too. How would that go down with her father?

  * * *

  Jason Horton greeted them. “Dreadful business. I presume you’re here about last night. Sadie was very upset. She’s known Ray since she was a child.” That conjured up an interesting image in Greco’s head. The small child, sitting on her father’s knee while the mobsters discussed their latest plans.

  Horton led them into a small anteroom off the main entrance. “Make yourselves comfortable. I’ll organise some coffee.”

  “There’s no need,” Greco assured him. “This shouldn’t take long.”

  “I didn’t see anything last night,” Horton began. “You were sitting only a few yards away from me, talking to Sadie when it happened.”

  “We have to speak to everyone who was there,” Greco told him. “Neither you nor Miss Costello are suspects. I know that both of you were talking to me and my colleague at the time. However, you may have noticed something odd, heard something. At this point we need all the help we can get.”

  “Wish I could help you, but I’m afraid I can’t. Nothing out of the ordinary comes to mind. It was a fairly typical night at the club. Except for poor Ray of course.”

  “You and Miss Costello are there often?”

  Horton shrugged.

  “Does her father ever go with you?”

  “Vinny isn’
t up to it, I’m afraid. Anyway, it’s not his thing — clubs, casinos, staying out late. He’s very much a pipe-and-slippers man these days.”

  Greco was struggling to get his head around the idea of Vinny Costello with a pipe and slippers. “You’ve treated him here, I believe?”

  “You know I can’t discuss my patients. You would have to ask him.”

  “I presume he didn’t want plastic surgery?”

  “Look, DCI Greco, you can presume all you like, but I will not discuss my patients’ health. However, I will say that plastic surgery isn’t the only procedure we do here. We offer medical consultations and other types of surgery too.”

  “But that’s where the money is, isn’t it? In plastics,” Greco continued.

  “Yes, and it forms the major part of what we do.”

  “You certainly have a fan in Miss Costello. She couldn’t sing your praises loud enough.”

  “She prattles on.”

  “Hamid Khan was a patient of yours. He and his wife believed you could help him. Why was that, when what he needs is a kidney transplant?”

  “Like I just said, I can’t discuss my patients with you.”

  “He is currently languishing in Manchester General on dialysis. His wife thought you were going to make him well. How did you plan to do that?”

  “We were hoping to get a live donor, a close relative.” Horton sounded impatient. “It is permissible for us to carry out the procedure in such circumstances. I am a renal surgeon with many years’ experience in the NHS behind me. Five years ago, I re-trained in plastics. A very lucrative add-on,” he smiled.

  Greco decided to change the subject. “Where did you meet Sadie Costello?”

  Horton smiled. “Here, at the clinic. Sadie came to us for treatment.”

  “Cosmetic treatment?”

  “I can’t say.”

  Greco waved a hand. “Yes, of course — patient confidentiality. I will be speaking to her. Offer her the opportunity to expand on what we spoke about last night.”

  “That is your prerogative, but I should tell you that Sadie has gone to stay with her parents for a while. I have no idea when she’ll be back.”

  Great! That meant any contact would inevitably go through Costello’s people. Sadie would be well coached in what to say long before he could get a statement.

  “Do you have any idea why anyone would want to kill Ray Shaw?”

  “I’ve no idea. He was a charming man.”

  “That depended on how you knew him, Doctor. Believe me, Shaw could be far from charming when he chose. Given that you owed him money, you must have known that.”

  “That is my private business. I refuse to discuss it here.”

  “If you didn’t have my colleague as an alibi, that fact alone would have given you a motive. How much do you owe, Doctor Horton?”

  “None of your bloody business. And it has nothing to do with the case you are investigating.”

  They were going round in circles. Horton wasn’t going to tell them anything useful.

  Faisal Rashid stormed in without knocking.

  “You again! Don’t you have better things to do? There was another murder last night. You can’t possibly think it has anything to do with us. I can’t understand why you insist on rushing here whenever there is any criminal activity in this town.”

  Greco smiled at him. “I can assure you that this is just routine. We have to speak to everyone who was in the club last night.”

  “And that includes you, does it, Jason? I should have known. We spoke. I thought you were giving that place a wide berth.”

  “Sadie and I were having a few drinks, Faisal, that’s all.”

  Greco looked at Horton. “Am I to presume that you couldn’t find a close relative to be a donor for Mr Khan?”

  The question had been directed at his partner, but Rashid responded, his face blank. “What are you talking about?”

  “Hamid Khan needs a kidney transplant. Doctor Horton here was supposed to help him.”

  Faisal Rashid’s dark eyes narrowed to pinpricks. “We do not have a transplant programme here, or anything like one. It’s a nice idea but it would not work in practice. Transplants need donors, don’t they? And there is the problem.” He turned to look at his partner. “We will speak later. Why are you discussing our business with all and sundry, Jason?”

  “We are not all and sundry as you put it, Doctor Rashid. We are the police. Currently we have four murders on our hands. So I will ask any questions I think fit, and expect answers.”

  Faisal Rashid marched out of the room.

  “He doesn’t see things as I do,” Horton said. “Had a relative come forward, I would have done the operation for Hamid Khan. Faisal frowns on us doing anything other than the plastics stuff. It’s where the money is, you see.”

  Greco didn’t think Rashid knew anything of interest anyway. Horton was the one with answers. The problem was getting them. While he continued to hide behind patient confidentiality, it was doubtful they would get anywhere. Greco decided to leave it — for now.

  Chapter 20

  Mickey paced the floor of his small flat. Adrenaline had kept him awake most of the night. His head ached from thinking about what he’d done. Killing Slicer was all very well, but where exactly did it leave him? He’d destroyed his only contact with Costello.

  Stupid! Stupid fool! You should think before you dive in. Too bloody handy with weapons, always have been. What now? How do you get what you want if no one knows you’re around?

  Mickey had collared Slicer in the gent’s toilet. He’d told the villain that he wanted in. He said he’d overheard him and knew that there was a lot of money in the pipeline. He wanted his share. Mickey wanted a part in whatever operation Slicer was planning. The man had laughed at him — called him a stupid kid, shook his head and told Mickey to mind his own business. He was to come when called, and until then to go away and not make waves. Mickey had got angry. He wasn’t going to be treated like a piece of dirt. As Slicer had stood there laughing at him, Mickey had shot him dead.

  He could contact Costello direct. Tell the big man he was ready for work. Mickey rubbed his eyes and screamed with rage. Costello would think he was a fool. He’d be dead in a gutter before the day was out. He’d planned to take over, run this patch for himself, but he had nothing. No money, no contacts, no access to the drugs he’d need to sell on. And there was more to it than just running drugs. Slicer had been into other stuff. Problem was, Mickey hadn’t let him live long enough to find out more.

  He rang his sister. “Need your help,” he hissed down the phone. “I’ve ballsed up. I need to find out what the cops know about those murders. The youngsters and Slicer Shaw.” She didn’t reply straight off. She’d be thinking it through. “You can get hold of stuff. I need this. Come on, sis, you’re in the right place.”

  “That boy in the multistorey was an illegal. Probably brought here to work in some backstreet sweatshop. The bloke in the pub worked with that reporter, Rouse. That’s all I know.” She hung up.

  So Slicer had been mixed up in people trafficking. Mickey kicked out in fury, hitting the fridge and denting the door. He’d had no idea. He didn’t know the first thing about how to make it happen for himself.

  * * *

  “I’ve been glued to this screen for an hour or more. Where the bloody hell is he?” Grace was beginning to think she’d dreamed him up.

  Joel was unsympathetic. “Not much fun, is it, the CCTV work? You shouldn’t have been so keen to say you knew what he looked like. You’ll know better in future.”

  She ignored him. “The time stamp says nine thirty. Greco and I arrived at nine.”

  “Was he already there?”

  “I don’t know. He might have been. He stood at the bar, drinking. When I spoke to him we’d been in there about ten minutes or so.”

  Joel flicked the footage back to nine o’clock. “Sit down, get comfy and watch the main entrance. It was very busy around that time.
”

  “There’s me and Greco,” she pointed out. “Go back a little further.”

  Joel pointed to some people at the door. “Bit of bother there. Even in an upmarket place like the Windfall.”

  “It’s the way that pair are dressed. They were never going to get in wearing jeans and T-shirts.”

  It was easy for the eye to be distracted. The altercation between the two blokes and the doorman had taken their attention.

  “Look!” Joel froze the film. “Sneaking in around that lump of a bouncer. Is that him?”

  He was tall, wearing a suit and white shirt. He had his hands in his pockets and slunk past the doorman with no bother. “Joel, you’re a star! Yes, it is.” Grace leaned forward and stared at the screen. “And we’ve got a good, clear look at his face. Print me a copy, please.”

  With the image in her hand, Grace went to find Greco. “This is my weirdo,” she announced, placing it in front of him. “I reckon this is the bloke who shot Slicer.”

  Greco studied the printout. “He’s young.”

  “And he’s tall and skinny. Fits his description too.” Grace nodded at the board in the other room.

  “Are you saying that this individual could be responsible for the murder of the two boys as well?”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it’s a leap too far. I can’t see where killing a couple of trafficked runaways could be connected with the murder of Tanner and Shaw. Besides, the method was different.”

  “That could be deliberate. Keep an open mind, that’s all I’m saying. Another thing, does he look familiar to you?”

  She waited while Greco studied the image. Finally he shook his head. “No. Sorry, I don’t know him.”

  “I’ll stick it on the board.”

  “We need his identity. He was at the club so we’ll have to speak to him in any case.”

  “Joel is busy fitting names to faces from the CCTV as we speak.” She paused for a moment. “What’s the betting he can’t pin a name on my weirdo?”

  * * *