Complete Detective Stephen Greco Box Set

by Helen H. Durrant

  Greco held up his hand. “Not now. This isn’t for discussion at work.” The truth was, Greco couldn’t discuss it. The subject of Grace and the future was difficult, and fraught with problems. He’d only just told the team, but already the whole thing was making him feel trapped. Baby or no baby, he couldn’t help wishing that things were very different. And the last thing he needed was to be the butt of smutty jokes in the office.

  Dominic Hill was brought in. He sat down opposite the two detectives.

  “Do you want a solicitor?” Greco asked him.

  “I don’t need one. I haven’t done anything,” he said. “I have no idea why I’m even here.”

  “You work for Greysons,” Greco said. “What exactly do you do there?”

  “I didn’t know working there was a crime,” Hill replied nervously. “I work for Ava Whitton. She is the transport manager.”

  “Ms Whitton is currently missing. Do you know where she is?”

  Hill shook his head. “She could be anywhere. I think she’s done one. Things have got tricky.”

  “Would you tell us what you mean by that, Dominic?” Greco asked.

  “I know why you’ve brought me here. You think I had something to do with Craig and Vinny being killed.” He looked at them, his expression defiant. “Well, I didn’t. I didn’t even know them very well.”

  Greco returned his look. “I asked you about Ms Whitton. What do you know about her part in all this?”

  Hill shook his head.

  “Craig and Vinny robbed Ms Whitton’s house. They stole money, jewellery, and a lot of heroin that was hidden there.” Greco paused, giving Hill time to think about this. “It’s our belief that Greysons’ lorries are used to bring the stuff into the country. And I think the lads knew exactly when to strike. In effect, they were tipped off. You see, it happened the very day that Customs and Excise did that spot check on Greysons’ premises. Odd, don’t you think? Either that or bloody good luck.”

  Hill was staring at his hands. “I didn’t think it would do any harm,” he said quietly. “I’ve been watching Ava for a while. I suspected what she was up to. She’s not as smart as she thinks. She panicked that day, made mistakes. Got away with it by the skin of her teeth. She has to be mixed up with some right dodgy types. They will be looking for her. I’m not surprised she’s disappeared.”

  “Why Craig and Vinny? Why get them involved?” Greco asked.

  “Dee told me about them. I thought if we got our hands on the heroin we could get money off Ava in return for giving it back. She would pay through the nose to save her skin. She’d have no alternative. She knew the consequences of letting certain people down.”

  “Which people, Dominic?” asked Greco.

  Hill was pulling at his fingers, frowning. Finally he looked up. “Barton. He is at the bottom of this. Ava brings the stuff in, and he moves it on.”

  “You’re sure of this?”

  “Yes.”

  “How? I imagine it’s not information Barton or Ava would volunteer.”

  “I’m on Barton’s payroll. He trusts me. Well, up to a point. In my position I can both hear and see things.”

  “Can you prove what you’re telling us?”

  “No, not really. Whenever Barton has discussed things, there’s been no one else around. If it came down it, it would be his word against mine. But if it’s all the same, I don’t want it to come to that. He’s a scary bugger. Barton would make sure I never said anything again!”

  “Tell us about Craig and Vinny,” Greco said.

  “I couldn’t have done this on my own. Dee introduced us and we made plans. We had no intention of selling the stuff. I don’t know about those lads, but I wouldn’t know where to start. We were going to get Ava to pay a ransom to get it back. I met them at the community centre, and we organised things.”

  “So, what happened?” Greco asked. “Because something went radically wrong.”

  “I’d had a tip-off that Customs and Excise were going to visit so I told the lads to be ready.”

  “Who told you this?” Greco asked.

  “An anonymous phone call one night when I was working late.”

  “And you believed it?”

  “I had no reason not to. If it was a hoax, that was just our bad luck. I told the lads straightaway. That morning I rang Craig and they went to Ava’s house. They found the heroin okay, rang me and we arranged to meet later that night. But they never turned up. I was angry. I presumed they’d made off with the stuff. Cut me out of the deal.”

  “Where were you supposed to meet?”

  “The old mill on Bentinck Street. It’s empty and has a large yard. No one goes there. We were going to hide the heroin, then tap Ava for the money.”

  Greco thought about this. Hill had admitted to his part in the robbery, inasmuch as he passed on vital information, but could he be believed about the rest? “Did you turn up?”

  Hill nodded. “It was a wet night and dark, but no one had been there, I could tell. No tyre marks in the mud, only mine. I waited about an hour and gave up. I had a look around the local pubs, but couldn’t find them.”

  “You know Dee Sampson?”

  Hill nodded.

  “You were close?”

  “I like Dee. I’ve taken her out a couple of times. It was her who took me to the centre to meet the lads. Mind you, she didn’t know what we were planning.”

  “Dee played no part in your scam?”

  Dominic shook his head. “No.”

  “Dee Sampson was found battered to death earlier today,” Greco told him. “Her murder was similar to that of Craig and Vinny.”

  Hill’s eyes opened wide with shock. He shook his head slowly. “I don’t understand. Why her? Why go after Dee?”

  “We have no idea. Are you sure she wasn’t involved in any way?”

  “She introduced us, me and the lads. Nothing else.”

  “While you’ve been here, we have carried out a search at your home. We found something in your garage. The weapon used on Dee. It’s on its way to the lab. Is the blood on what we’ve found going to match Dee’s?”

  “I had no idea that Dee was dead!” Hill shouted. “And I certainly didn’t kill her. Why would I? I liked Dee. We’d just started seeing each other. Anyway, I’d been at work all day. Then I got arrested.”

  He was right. Dee had been murdered in the early afternoon, not long after she left the station. But if Hill hadn’t killed her, who had?

  Greco decided they could go no further for the time being. “That’s all for now. In view of what we’ve found, you might want to reconsider having a solicitor present the next time we talk.”

  “I’ve told you everything I know. Can I go now?”

  “I’m afraid not, Dominic. You will be staying with us for a while longer,” Greco said.

  Chapter 27

  Day 7

  The journey to Poland had been a long, hard slog. But at least now he was in his homeland, Vasili Pakulski could speak to people and understand what was being said. Now it was George Potts’ turn to be at a disadvantage.

  They had delivered the goods and were on their way back to Calais with a truckload of tinned food destined for a Polish wholesaler in Manchester.

  A couple of hours out of Warsaw, Potts suddenly announced, “We’re pulling into a workshop for a while. Something on the truck needs checking out. Use the time. Get something to eat or go for a walk.”

  Potts pulled off the main road and down a country lane. Vasili had no idea what was going on, and Potts was evidently in no mood to tell him. The truck seemed fine. Vasili was no expert, but there didn’t seem to be anything wrong.

  The workshop was a ramshackle affair, way off the beaten track. The man who ran it gave Potts an unenthusiastic greeting, and spoke to him in broken English. “Same as before?” he asked.

  “Make it quick. I want to get going,” Potts barked.

  The man swore in Polish and Vasili smiled to himself. George Potts didn’t und
erstand. But he deserved it. He wasn’t a nice man.

  Potts walked off towards the workshop.

  “There is a drinks machine inside,” the mechanic told Vasili.

  “Thank you. I’ll get a coffee,” he responded in Polish.

  The mechanic broke into a smile and clapped him on the back. “When you’re ready, you can help me if you want. The work is heavy and that one just sits around on his backside.” He nodded at Potts, who by now was sitting outside on a bench, smoking.

  “What’s wrong with the truck?” Vasili asked the mechanic.

  “Nothing. It is just the usual job.”

  Vasili was curious. He had no idea what this was about. He stood back and watched the mechanic remove the second diesel tank from the side of the truck.

  “What’s your name?”

  “No names — not real ones anyway.” He raised a finger. “But you can call me Kovac. Don’t tell him. That man is the scum of the earth. His attitude stinks.”

  “This is my first time with him, and I hope I never have to do this again.”

  “Get out while you can, my friend. They are evil, the lot of them. I am like you. I need the money. I owe them, and if I refuse to do what they ask, my family will get hurt. They have killed people. I have seen some horrific things. What’s your story?”

  “If I don’t work for them, we lose our home. They were going to throw us out onto the streets. I badly need to find somewhere else to live. Then I will be gone.”

  Kovac started to manhandle the heavy tank. “Give me a hand to carry this inside. They are bad men, yes, but this is very clever.” Once they were inside the workshop with the tank on the bench, Kovac pushed a dipstick into the tank’s filler hole. He held the stick up to the light. “What do you see?”

  “Fuel,” Vasili responded, and smelled it just to make sure.

  “Diesel, exactly, my friend. But all is not what it seems.” Kovac took an electric saw to one end of the rectangular tank and cut it clean off. Now Vasili could see inside. The filler hole opened up into a small container. The rest of the tank was filled with bundles of used notes. Vasili had never seen so much money. He reckoned there must be thousands in there.

  “Help me get it out,” Kovac instructed.

  The two men hauled the bundles onto the bench, a handful at a time.

  Vasili said nothing. He felt queasy. This was bad. They had travelled from the north of England with all this money on board. But what he saw next made him even more nervous.

  Kovac took a large cardboard box from a shelf. He opened it up and passed Vasili a see-through plastic packet containing white powder. The box contained dozens more just like it. “We must pack the goods in tight. Do not worry. He has done this many times before.” He nodded at Potts. “We fill up the tank with the drugs, and I weld it back together. Simple and efficient.” The last three words were spoken in English.

  “And foolproof.” Potts came up behind them. “Customs get nosy, they fiddle about with the tank and find nothing but diesel. The dogs don’t find it because of the smell. The fuel goes into that small container.” Potts pointed. “Then this tank is fitted into a bigger one, forming an outer shell. That way customs do not see the weld. We top up the space between the inner and outer shell with more diesel and fool the bloody mutts.”

  It was only now that the full impact of what Vasili had got himself into, hit him. His stomach churned. This was drug trafficking on a huge scale. If he did nothing, went along with this, then he too was a criminal, every bit as guilty as Potts and whoever he was working for. Vasili could not live with that.

  * * *

  Ava Whitton was unrecognisable. The gloss was gone, replaced by trainers, ripped jeans, a hoodie and a rucksack. Her hair was now almost black, and hung in a straight bob to her chin.

  She had travelled south, and taken a room in a cheap hotel room near Cannock in Staffordshire. Sometime soon, the Greysons’ lorry she was waiting for would roll by. There was a scheduled stop — a motorway café on the M6. All Greysons traffic stopped there and checked in with the office. Their arrival time was reported back at base. Potts and his co-driver would take a break there. That is when she’d strike.

  Ava had a plan, of sorts. But it was by no means foolproof. Not her usual style, but she’d had to move quick. She would need help. The lorry she was waiting for would be driven by Potts. She was hoping that his sidekick, Vasili Pakulski, the man she’d hired a few days ago would help her. He was Polish, like her, and had been coerced into the job by Barton. By now he would be aware of what was really going on. If he had any conscience at all, he would do as she asked.

  It was Ava’s plan to take the lorry, get Vasili Pakulski to drive, and to leave Potts behind. They would take the lorry north, and lure Barton to a meeting place. She didn’t know what she’d do after that. Ava wanted Barton dead, but she wasn’t a killer. But if she didn’t kill him, she would have to get the police involved. To send Barton away, she would have to provide the evidence they would need.

  * * *

  Vasili and Potts were making good time. They would reach the port of Calais before nightfall. Vasili had sat in silence since leaving the workshop and Kovac behind. He couldn’t get what he’d seen out of his head. They were shipping drugs into the UK. He could not simply sit back and let that happen. The heroin was destined for the streets. It ruined lives. He had to tell someone. But if he did that, what would happen to his family? One whiff of the police, and Barton would throw them out onto the streets. And that was the very least he’d do. They would never be safe. Barton would take revenge. He had to warn Nadia and his daughters.

  “When we stop?” he asked Potts in broken English.

  “I’ll pull in at the next café,” he said. “Then it’s a straight run through to Calais. And no whining. Got it?”

  Vasili nodded. “How long?”

  “Half an hour. You’ll just have to wait.”

  Vasili settled back and closed his eyes. Potts was singing his head off to the music on the radio. It was wearing him out. They had gone the entire journey and, so far, Potts had done all the driving. Vasili began to wonder what he was doing here at all. He didn’t see what he was needed for.

  “You want me to drive?” he asked Potts.

  “No.”

  “Then why I here?”

  “To ride shotgun.” Potts laughed. Then he nodded to the glove compartment.

  Vasili opened it and rummaged around. Potts hadn’t been joking. Inside, hidden behind a couple of drink cartons, was a pistol. “You can’t expect me to use that. I not shoot anyone.”

  “You’ll do as you’re told. We meet trouble, you use the gun. Refuse, and Barton will punish you.”

  “Killing not right.”

  Potts grinned. “These roads aren’t always safe. But don’t worry. Shoot somebody and we don’t leave any evidence behind. You won’t get caught.”

  Chapter 28

  Greco arrived at the station early the next morning. He was alone in the incident room. He wanted time to sift through the reports and weigh up what they had. At first he had been certain that Dominic Hill was their man. But now Greco knew that couldn’t be. The young man had an alibi, for starters. He’d told them he was at work until he’d been arrested. That needed checking out. But Greco doubted the young man was a killer. Someone had set him up. But why? And more important, who?

  He stared at the board. Why had the killer labelled the bodies? Care had been taken to ensure that whoever found the lads knew who was who. Then there were the body parts. Everything was there. It was almost as if the killer cared.

  The team were assembled and at their desks before eight. Even Grace was in bright and early. She still didn’t look well, but she would not appreciate any special attention.

  “Have we got anything new?” Greco asked them.

  “I spoke to the two girls who overdosed,” said Leah. “They are hiding something. Both reckon they do not know whoever gave them the heroin. That’s unlikely. Th
ey know right enough. But for reasons of their own, they won’t say.”

  “Why not?” Grace asked.

  “I thought at first that they might be afraid. But that’s not it. There is something else, I’m sure of it.”

  “See them again,” Greco suggested. “Keep pushing.”

  “Any word on Ava Whitton?” asked Speedy.

  “Nothing. Ports, airports and railway and coach stations have all been alerted,” Joel replied. “But so far, no one has seen her.”

  “Are we keeping tabs on her mobile?”

  Speedy nodded. “If she uses it, we’ll know. But nothing so far.”

  “We still have Dominic Hill in the cells.” Greco looked at Joel. “Get onto the Duggan. We need the results from the iron bar.”

  “Has he offered an alibi?” Grace asked.

  “Yes. He told us he was at work. That is probably true. Speedy, get on it straight away. Check with Greyson. Make sure Hill didn’t leave at any time. If Hill’s alibi does check out, it gives us another problem.”

  “How, sir? Apart from the obvious one that we’ve lost our only suspect?” Speedy asked.

  Greco looked at all of them. “Think about it. Evidence was left for us to find. If that bar is the murder weapon, then the real killer is trying to frame Hill.”

  Speedy scratched his head.

  “See anything of Dee on the CCTV from the immediate area?” Greco asked Grace.

  “She can be seen leaving our building. From there she appears to be heading for the bus stop. It was raining, remember. The camera we really need is on the corner of Hampson Street. But it was out. So we lose her at that point.” Grace shrugged.

  “I’ve been thinking about the way Craig and Vinny were found. Any ideas on that, anyone?” He looked at them. “What I’m getting at is writing their names on the bodies, leaving the amputated parts with them.”

  “Does it have to mean anything?” Speedy asked.

  “Perhaps someone cared,” Leah suggested, echoing Greco’s own thoughts. “Wanted to make sure we got the identities right.”

  “But why?” Speedy said. “We would have found out soon enough. Both boys’ DNA is on record.”