Complete Detective Stephen Greco Box Set

by Helen H. Durrant

  He shrugged. “I forgot. Anyway, it was nothing important, just a house.”

  “We’ll be the judge of that. Can I see it?”

  “Look, I don’t have time for this.”

  “We can always take you down to the station, Mr Marsh. You’ll have plenty of time there.”

  Marsh gave her a filthy look.

  “So, what’s it to be?”

  Marsh took his mobile from the back pocket of his jeans and handed it to her. “Nothing to hide. Look all you want.”

  Grace flipped through the texts until she found the one from Vinny. The word ‘house,’ plus the picture. “You really should have shown this to my colleagues,” she told him.

  “Take it with you. Do whatever tests you want. I’ve got nothing to hide. I’ve no idea why Vinny sent that to me. I never saw him again, so I couldn’t ask him.”

  Grace made a note of the date and time it was sent. “Do you mind if I forward the text to my own phone?”

  Marsh shrugged. “Like I said, do what you want.”

  Once she’d finished, Grace handed the phone back. “That’s fine. One more thing. Do you recognise the house?”

  “No, and I’ve no idea who lives there either.”

  “Thanks for your time,” she said. Turning to Doreen, she called out, “Take care!”

  They left the room. “We’ll get his phone history when we get back. You never know,” Joel said. “He’s hiding something, I just feel it.”

  Doreen followed them out into the café. She spoke quietly to Grace. “Have you come about the thieving? I didn’t report it. I left that to Graham, but it’s still going on.”

  Grace was taken aback. They moved out of earshot of the others. “You’re telling me that things are going missing?”

  “It’s been happening for a while. I had a gold watch taken, it belonged to my husband. Others have had bits and pieces disappear. Joe even had money taken from his bank account.”

  They had been given the impression that Graham Clovelly had turned the place around, and that the youngsters were fast becoming a reformed bunch. Thieving wasn’t on Grace’s radar. “Does he want to talk to us about it?”

  “He doesn’t want any trouble. It was only a tenner, but like I told him, that’s not the point. It meant that someone had got into his online bank account. I think he had a word with his bank. They’ll probably have sorted it.”

  “If you haven’t done so already, you should tell Graham again, and say you’ve spoken to me. If you want to talk some more, particularly if no one does anything this time, here’s my card.”

  “Graham won’t want to involve the police. Very protective of his lads, he is.”

  “Thieving is thieving, Doreen. Someone has to take action and make it stop.”

  “What’s he done anyway?” Doreen nodded back at Marsh.

  “Nothing. He’s simply being helpful.” Grace smiled.

  “Trouble is, I’m not sure who he’s helping,” she whispered to Joel on their way out.

  * * *

  “Vinny Holt did send Max Marsh a photo of Ava Whitton’s house,” Joel told the team.

  Greco made a note of it on the incident board. He’d called a briefing to collate what they had gleaned so far. Which, apart from the photo, wasn’t much.

  “The visit did throw up something else,” Grace said. “There is some petty thieving going on at the centre. Probably got nothing to do with our case though.”

  “What sort of thieving?” Greco asked.

  “A watch, stuff like that. One elderly man had money taken from his bank account.”

  Greco frowned. “The way things are, we don’t know if it’s significant or not. Because of Dave Holt’s recent association with Banister, we suspect that jewellery might have been taken from Ava Whitton’s place. Go back, get descriptions, and we’ll circulate them. As for the money, the pensioners are learning how to use computers. It might just be a mistake, but have a word with the gentleman, and tell uniform.”

  “I have been researching the maker’s mark on the two rings,” Leah told them. “The shop no longer exists. However, the son of the original jeweller moved to the UK about five years ago. We need to find him. See what records he has retained or can put his hands on.”

  Speedy sounded doubtful. “If he’s moved here permanently it’s unlikely he can help much, if at all. He’s not going to have brought his business records with him.”

  Greco sighed. “There was the trace of a name engraved on the inside of Festival Fred’s ring. Julian will do his best. He should have something for us soon.”

  Speedy had a point about the records, but it didn’t help. What they badly needed was a motive for the two murders. Simply suspecting that the murdered lads may have seen, or stolen heroin from Ava Whitton’s house wasn’t enough. They had to know for sure.

  Chapter 11

  Day 4

  Ava Whitton was not going into work this morning. She had more important things to do. Barton wanted a meeting. Damn the man, he’d had the cheek to take her to task about the robbery at her house. Ava would have to watch her step. He was more than capable of doing her harm. Despite the good clothes and the charm, he was a thug who hurt people. Her eyes drifted to the inside of her right arm and a nasty scar — Barton’s work. He’d cut her in punishment for a late delivery. In the early days of their relationship, he had shown little tolerance. Nowadays, things were thankfully easier. They had reached the stage in the relationship where his need for her was greater than hers for him, but Ava still didn’t trust him. She disliked the man intensely. She wanted out.

  There had been twenty-four packets in the fridge. For reasons best known to themselves, the lads who robbed her had left six behind. On a more personal front, not only had they taken the drugs, but money and jewellery too. The jewellery was irreplaceable, family pieces.

  They had forced the lock on a downstairs window at the back. There was hardly any mess, just a length of bent plastic where they’d jemmied the double-glazed frame away from the lock. But Barton would not be interested in that kind of detail. He’d blame her lax security, and try to make her pay. Ava knew she had to find a way to placate him. It required just the right touch. If she was too apologetic about what had happened, he’d take advantage. Barton had to believe that Ava was as outraged about the robbery as he was. But more importantly, he must not find out that she still had some of the heroin.

  The meet up was scheduled for ten that morning in a coffee shop on the High Street in Manchester city centre. Barton had wanted a venue busy enough for both of them to go unnoticed. But that didn’t suit Ava. Just in case anything went wrong, she wanted people to recall seeing her. She wore a deep red, fitted, knee-length dress and a black jacket. Her shoes and matching bag were red leather. She was tall, upright and definitely not dressed to blend in, despite what Barton wanted. And it worked. Eyes turned her way as she entered the coffee shop.

  Barton was a big man, broad and muscular with closely cropped dark hair. His coarse features were clean shaven and he was dressed as usual in a suit with a white shirt and tie. The acceptable face of his grubby little business. But Ava knew very well that this was not a true picture of the man. His persona was every bit as false as her own. Barton was a conman and a crook. But worse than that, he was a very successful drug trafficker. And that was why he needed her. In a short space of time, Ava had become a vital cog in his illicit enterprise.

  He sat at a window table. He looked her up and down, then nodded a cursory greeting. “I already have a coffee. You get your own.”

  Ava ignored this and sat down. Barton was not someone she’d choose to chat to over a mid-morning drink. He had once been a necessary evil, but now it was time to get out. One way or another, this had to be wound up. Meanwhile, she would be polite, businesslike, and pray it did the trick.

  “We have a problem. Thanks to you,” he hissed. His face was hard. There were deep lines down both cheeks as if they’d been etched in stone. “I have missi
ng merchandise. My customers are not happy. They do not expect to be short changed.”

  Barton’s demeanour expressed an anger that, despite the suit, he couldn’t hide. He could inflict a great deal of damage with a single punch. No one crossed him twice. Ava was well aware of the risk she was taking.

  “You expect me to believe that, after what you did to those boys?”

  “I am missing an entire shipment. Those boys stole it from your house, Ava. Convenient, don’t you think? You moved the goods to a place where they could get their thieving hands on it. For your sake, I hope that was not deliberate. You wouldn’t try to double-cross me, would you? Because if you steal from me and it backfires, I will retaliate.” He gave her an oily smile. “So, I will give you a choice. You either give my goods back, or pay me the full street price.”

  Both those options were impossible. Ava’s stomach was churning. This was worse than she had expected. Barton believed that she had played some part in the theft. “You know that can’t be done. I don’t have that sort of money. And you are wrong, I didn’t have anything to do with the theft of your goods. I lost things too, things precious to me.”

  “And my customers, Ava, the dealers I supply? What do I tell them? They are not nice people. Perhaps I should tell them about you, eh? Let your name slip. I wonder how long it would be before you were found dead in a ditch!”

  “I have told you. It was not down to me! I didn’t know this would happen.” Ava took a deep breath. “Just this once, your customers will have to accept it. Give them a refund.” Ava’s tone was even, and she looked him full in the face. She watched his expression change. He was trying hard to keep his temper in check, aware of the people all around.

  “I don’t think you understand, Ava. My customers are not the ‘accepting’ type. They order, they pay and they expect to receive the goods. Half-arsed excuses do not go down well.”

  He brought his face close to hers and spoke the words slowly. His foul breath turned Ava’s stomach.

  “It is not an excuse, you moron!” she snapped back. She showed anger, but inside she was quaking with fear. She recoiled slightly. “We had Customs and Excise poking around at work. I had to think quick. What was I supposed to do — let them find the stuff?” Now she leaned forward too, and whispered, “You forget, it is me who takes the risks. The driver brought the goods to the depot. They are told not to, but it was late. He had been on the road for hours. It was his intention to move it the following morning. I had no choice, I had to take the stuff home or risk it being discovered. Be assured, Barton, if that had happened, I would not have protected you!”

  “Ungrateful bitch!” he sneered. “Without me you would still be scraping a living, selling your scrawny body on street corners like before. Think about it, Ava. I got you the fancy job in that smart office. I pay you well for your part in my little enterprise. But you show me nothing but disrespect. You need teaching a lesson!”

  “It is me who takes the flak if things go wrong, Barton,” she shot back angrily. “You do nothing but sit back and wait for the shipments to arrive.”

  “Do not deviate from the plan again,” he warned. “Your drivers do as they are told. They deliver before they arrive at your depot. They know the drill well enough. It is up to you to ensure they keep to the rules. And don’t forget, you owe me. You will get nothing until I have recouped the money from the missing stuff. I will deduct the amount from your next payments.”

  He expected her to take risks and work for nothing, did he? “Do that and we are through.” Ava spoke the words slowly, deliberately, and she meant them. Yes, she was afraid, but he would not dictate to her any more. During the time she’d worked for Barton, Ava had salted away enough money to live off for the rest of her life. She could disappear. She would ensure that no one came looking for her. No one would ask questions.

  “The police have been to my house,” she hissed at him. “They are suspicious. Perhaps I should tell them the truth. Protect myself.”

  “You won’t do that. The risk to yourself is too great.” His smile was icy. “Cross me, Ava, and I will hunt you down and kill you with my bare hands. I also know that the thieves didn’t take all of the gear. You will return the remaining packets to me.”

  Ava was taken aback. Where had he got that information from? There could only be one source. The two butchered lads themselves. “How do you know that?” she asked, her voice shaking.

  “Because I have people on my payroll who earn their crust. Unlike some.” Barton’s eyes narrowed. “It is safe, I hope?”

  Ava didn’t reply.

  “You will deliver it to my lock-up tonight.”

  “No.” She was adamant. “The remainder of that shipment is my insurance. I read the papers. You killed those boys. You butchered them like you did my brother!” The words brought tears to her eyes. Tomasz had worked for Barton too at one time. Then, without explanation, he had disappeared, never to be heard from again. “You are a cold-blooded killer. I have to ensure my own safety. I have no other choice.”

  Barton’s face was thunderous. “Be warned, Ava. Don’t cross me. Give me back what is mine or you will die,” he hissed.

  Without another word, he stood up and stormed out of the café.

  Ava felt sick. Had she gone too far? Barton knew only one way to sort those who disobeyed him. She had to do something, make herself safe. She noticed a young man clearing the tables and she beckoned him over.

  “That man who just left. I think he stole my purse.” At first the young man seemed unsure of what to do. Ava was searching in her bag. “He distracted me. He must have taken it while my back was turned.”

  “I’ll get the manager.”

  He rushed off and returned with an older man in tow.

  “You’re sure?” the manager asked. “You haven’t put it somewhere?”

  “No!” Ava wailed. “It was on the table. He just got up and left suddenly. He has to have taken it.”

  “Okay, I’ll ring the police. There is CCTV outside on the adjoining shop. They will have got a good image of the man.”

  Ava nodded, and smiled gratefully. This was good. Police interest in Barton would get him off her back long enough for her to formulate a plan.

  * * *

  Barton was angry. Ava had outfoxed him. He wanted to get even, but he also wanted his heroin back. He fed a large distribution network and that missing shipment would give him a problem, leading to lost income and angry customers. For now, he would play Ava’s game. But he had already made up his mind that she had outlived her usefulness. He would not allow anyone to dictate the rules of the game. It was his operation, and always had been.

  His mobile rang. It was the young woman. They had never met, but he knew her history, who she was, and how to find her if necessary. She had proved to be a useful pair of eyes and ears. She had told one of his people about the heroin left behind at Ava’s. As a rule, they conducted business entirely over the phone. But perhaps the time had come to meet her. She knew what was going on locally, and it occurred to him that she might be a suitable replacement for Ava. Barton decided to set that up as soon as possible.

  “The Pakulski family will play ball,” she told him. “The father has an HGV licence. Do you want to see him?”

  “No. Send him to see Ms Whitton at Greyson Logistics. She will set things up.”

  “Will you call off the bailiffs? Do I tell his family they can stay in the house?”

  “Yes, but I don’t want to hear another word about the damp, and the rent will be going up.”

  “Thanks. They’ll be pleased.”

  “I want us to meet. I’ll text you the place. Don’t let me down.”

  Chapter 12

  Greco addressed the team. “The community centre has recently become the hub of that estate, particularly for the young folk. All down to the efforts of that do-gooder, Clovelly. Despite the change of attitude and behaviour, I don’t believe that the youngsters who use the place weren’t aware of w
hat Craig and Vinny were up to. We will speak to them again. Get Clovelly on side.”

  “I’ll have a word, sir,” Joel volunteered. “Graham has done an excellent job of straightening out some of the lads. But I agree, if Craig and Vinny were planning something, the centre is where they’d talk about it. Max Marsh knows more than he’s told us, has to. Otherwise why was he sent the photo?”

  “Vinny Holt went home with money. Then he went out again. Craig did much the same. Where did they go? The centre? The Grapes? We need to know, and then we can attempt to track them from there. We should talk to Callum Riley too. Him and Craig were brothers, they were bound to share things.” Greco looked at Joel and Speedy. “Get out there and ask questions. Also, do we have the footage from the road Ava Whitton lives on?”

  “Only one of her neighbours has a camera, sir,” Joel told them. “The quality of the film isn’t good. They have it positioned in front of a tall hedge. It does a good job of capturing what’s going on in their own garden and drive, but it gets nothing else.”

  “Not even a shot of the road?”

  Joel shook his head. “No, sir.”

  “In that case, we will ask forensics to take a look inside her property. If we’re lucky, they might find a fingerprint or trace of heroin.”

  “How do we square that one?” Speedy asked. “We have nothing. We’re not sure the lads were even there.”

  “We now have the photo from Marsh. I will speak to Ava Whitton. Given what has happened, she had better have a good reason to refuse.”

  “While I was in the area, I asked the neighbours about her,” Joel said. “She doesn’t mix, and apart from tradesmen, no one ever goes to the house. She lives alone and has no pets. She bought the house new two years ago. She paid cash and didn’t sell a property in order to buy the one in Handforth.”

  “Do we know how long she’s been working at Greysons?”