by Carol Wyer
Chapter Nineteen
Monday, 4 November – Afternoon
‘DCI Ward.’ Dan Tasker stood motionless in the doorway of his office, hands in the pockets of trousers with creases so sharp it was as if they’d come directly from a trouser press. His clean-shaven face and boyish good looks were marred by a frown that drew his eyebrows together, a deep line like a pencil tick between them. ‘Could I have a word?’
‘Sir.’ Natalie recognised the tone. She was in for a dressing-down, and as she followed him into the office, she began preparing her defence.
‘Shut the door.’
It closed to with a whisper and she remained by it, waiting for him to invite her to sit, which he did with an imperial wave of his hand, dropping into his own seat and folding his hands on his lap. He waited a heartbeat after she’d made herself comfortable before he began. ‘I want to recap our telephone conversation last night regarding the investigation. Since you rang me, I’ve had it suggested the team isn’t performing as well as it should.’
Natalie didn’t respond, instead focusing on the pulsating blue vein in Dan’s temple. Ba-boom… ba-boom.
‘I’m worried there might be good reason for the concern. As far as I can see, the investigation has stalled and the press is delighting in exposing the team’s weaknesses. DI Carmichael doesn’t seem to be handling this as efficiently as was hoped, in spite of having you on board.’ He waited for her to bite back in defence. She’d already considered her reply and, instead, gave a measured, calm response.
‘I gave you a thorough update last night, sir. DI Carmichael is pursuing every angle and following police procedure to the letter. Given the complexity of this investigation and the fact we’ve been faced with four murders in as many days, it is impossible to get accurate and prompt results. Although we haven’t charged anyone, we are now actively searching for not one but two individuals in connection with the murders.’
‘Ah! This is a development I knew nothing about. Good. Who is this second person?’
‘Eugene Hardy.’
Dan placed his palms flat on the table. The brief smile that had appeared was wiped from his face and his voice dropped. ‘No. You can’t seriously believe he was responsible for these deaths.’
‘I didn’t suggest he was. We’re acting on information we received earlier from the fourth victim’s wife. Eugene threatened to kill her husband, and in light of what has happened to the man, we have to take the threat seriously.’
‘And did Eugene threaten to kill his own daughter too?’ The sarcasm was outweighed by the sub-zero tone.
‘First and foremost, we have to question him about the incident. He attacked Dominic in his own home and said he would kill him should he continue to see his daughter. Today we found Dominic’s body. Eugene is not at home or work and his phone is switched off. Nobody knows where he is.’
‘You’re barking up the wrong tree. Eugene isn’t your killer.’
‘We have to establish his innocence.’
‘He’s a highly reputable businessman.’
‘It doesn’t exempt him from our enquiries.’
‘Then let me make it perfectly clear: I don’t want him pestered unnecessarily.’
‘You want us to ignore the fact he threatened to kill Dominic?’
Dan removed his hands from the table and sat back in his chair. The vein bulged and pulsed, a little quicker than before.
‘I want you to tread carefully. Eugene does a lot for the community. His annual auction has provided enough money to purchase an MRI scanner for the local hospital. His family are part and parcel of this town, historical ties, stretching way back in time, not to mention influence, and we have to consider the fallout should he decide to use the media to rage against us.’ There it was, the bloody press again. Dan was all about image, his and the department’s. It was no more than Natalie had expected from her superior.
‘I’ll bear all of this in mind when we eventually find him and are able to question him.’
‘Make sure you do. Seriously, Natalie, this whole thing could explode in our faces if you don’t stick to protocol or if you press his buttons. The team is being watched carefully and not only by the media and the public. There are others who feel my decision to place DI Carmichael in charge of this team was the wrong one.’
‘She is the right choice, sir.’
He nodded and the cold façade thawed momentarily as he continued with, ‘I believe she is. Although, it would have been easier to prove that had we not been launched into a quadruple murder investigation. Expectations are high. Not only for the department but for you and me. To add to it, Eugene knows a great number of people who have clout. He’s only spoken to one local journalist at the moment but he won’t hesitate to use his contacts, far more senior and influential than Bev Gardner, if he feels we’re at fault. The Hardy family’s reputation is second to none in this community. Back in the day, when Hardy’s was first established, the founder, Benjamin Thomas Hardy, donated Christmas hampers to the poor and homeless over the festive season. Eugene and his daughter have carried on a similar tradition of giving back to Samford, so be certain you are looking for the one and same killer here.’
Dan turned his attention to the article in the Hatfield Herald. ‘My other worry is regarding the mole within the department.’
‘DI Carmichael has addressed the issue.’
‘Do we still not know who disclosed the information?’
‘No.’
‘Then you can’t be sure they won’t do it again.’
She shook her head, hoping he would let it drop and ask her to leave. Instead he sighed and rose from his chair. She ought to warn him about Bev’s plans to publish more leaks and slag off the unit but it would only add weight to his argument. The only thing that would keep the journalist quiet would be further information regarding the investigation, and if Natalie could get back to work rather than sit and listen to Dan bleat on, they might find something to appease the woman. Failing that, she’d have to tell Dan and expect further raging and fallout, which might include him removing Lucy as lead officer.
He was now talking quickly, eyebrows raised expressively to emphasise the importance of what he was saying. ‘Thanks to Eugene Hardy, this case has become high-profile. The interview he gave is causing ructions. I’ve already been held to task and had to defend the team. I made assurances the investigation will run smoothly, and Rachel’s killer will be brought to justice.’
‘Can I remind you we’re dealing with more than one murder, sir? It is a huge task. One that could take several months to resolve.’
‘As I said, Eugene has a wide influence.’
‘Are you suggesting that because the parents of a dead teacher and two young women aren’t influential, we should ignore their deaths and concentrate on Rachel’s?’ Natalie snapped.
‘That’s not…’ he began then shook his head. ‘The fact remains we’re expected to perform, which means ensuring Rachel’s killer is found.’ Having made his point, he dismissed her with one last warning. ‘If there are any more leaks or reasons for me to doubt DI Carmichael’s suitability, I won’t hesitate to replace her with another officer.’
‘Sir.’
She left quickly, keen to get back to the team. Dan didn’t want to lose face and he wouldn’t hesitate to throw Lucy to the wolves to save himself. She wouldn’t let that happen. Her team would succeed.
Murray couldn’t find Eugene. He wasn’t on any of the floors at Hardy’s department store or in either of the offices. None of the staff could hazard a guess as to the owner’s whereabouts. Eugene’s phone wasn’t transmitting a signal and the team was now reliant on CCTV to locate him or his car.
The automatic doors swished open and the overly warm interior and easy-listening music was quickly replaced by a cool wind, noisy traffic and an off-key busker, strumming a guitar and belting out an Ed Sheeran song. He sidestepped an elderly gent on a mobility scooter and slalomed around several shoppers bundle
d in coats and scarves on their way to the indoor shopping centre.
Instead of following Upper Way, with its numerous shops and crowds, he chose the alley running the length of the department store and emerged onto Marston Street. There was minimal traffic noise here and he paced towards the doorway where they’d found Rachel’s body without seeing a soul. He looked back along the road, towards a glass-fronted restaurant lit by strings of fairy lights, and tried to calculate how far away Di Angelo’s bar, where Rachel had been waiting for Dominic, was from the spot where he now stood. It was a good 200 metres. He turned back and stared ahead. The road was flanked by tall office blocks filled with people who worked Monday to Friday. Peering into the distance, he spotted a beige cab pulling into position at the far end of the street, on the taxi rank where they believed Rachel to have been heading.
It was proving impossible to ascertain if any taxi driver had been on the stand Saturday evening. In spite of her minor tiff with Andy about it, Poppy had taken it upon herself to contact the companies for information on the drivers who’d been out and about in Samford that night but had gleaned nothing. The job had been made all the more difficult by the fact many self-employed taxi drivers also used the rank.
He marched towards the car, tapped on the driver’s window, showed his ID card and then waited for the glass to lower. ‘Good afternoon. We’re searching for witnesses who might have been in this area on Saturday night. I don’t suppose you were parked here, were you?’
The man rubbed his chin. ‘No, mate. I was on an airport run in Manchester Saturday. Can’t help you at all.’
‘Were any of your colleagues here?’
‘Wouldn’t know. I work for myself.’
‘Well, thank you for your time anyway, and if you hear anything, please let us know. The number is on the notice.’ He pointed to the large yellow sign, asking for witnesses to the incident.
‘Sure. Will do.’
Murray glanced back in the direction of where Rachel’s body had been found. Even if a driver had been parked here, it would be highly unlikely they’d have witnessed the attack, especially in the dark. It was too far away. The killer had chosen their spot perfectly.
Instead of retracing his steps, Murray made his way towards Prince’s Park, where they’d found Katie, and it was as he wandered through the arched entrance that his phone rang.
Celeste was breathless. ‘Murray, I arranged another meeting with my contact but the school secretary’s rung me. My youngest is ill and I need to collect him from school then take him to the health clinic. Would you replace me? She’ll only speak to me or a DS.’
‘Where’s the meeting?’
‘The park where Katie was found.’
‘Really? I’m there at the moment.’
‘Great. Nancy will be there in five minutes. I’ll explain the last-minute change. She’s about five foot two, long auburn hair. Sorry to land you in it but we need any information we can get.’
‘Any idea what she wants to tell you?’
‘No.’ The line began to crackle. ‘By the… oak tree… bench…’
‘You’re breaking up, Celeste. I’ll sort it.’
He scouted left and right and spotted a lone tree and bench in the distance, next to a pond. He walked towards it and past it. He wouldn’t sit yet. He’d wait for Nancy to appear. Celeste played her cards close to her chest, so for her to pass on a contact was a big deal and her generosity a little suspicious. He wondered if Celeste had done this out of guilt. Was she their mole?
He didn’t have long to dwell on the matter. No sooner had the thought popped into his head than a woman wearing a dark-red hooded top and black skin-tight jeans came into view and dropped on the bench. She pulled out a packet of cigarettes and tapped one out, lit it and sucked on it. Murray watched as light-grey tendrils escaped her nostrils, curling like smoke from a dragon.
‘Nancy?’ he said as he sat beside her.
She studied him through a forest of fake eyelashes. ‘Yes.’
‘I’m DS Anderson. You can call me Murray.’
Her voice was low, almost guttural. ‘I know you. I’ve seen you at HQ. Got pulled with some of the other girls one night. We were waiting to be charged.’
Murray didn’t remember her. ‘Celeste said you have some information.’
She cast about and took another drag of her cigarette. Murray couldn’t help but notice her elaborate red sparkling nails. ‘You can’t let anyone know I told you.’
‘I won’t.’
She nodded. ‘It’s horrible what happened to Amelia and it’s really scared us girls. We’re worried it’s going to have repercussions.’
‘What do you mean?’
The scarlet talons scratched slowly at her head, revealing dark roots that required touching up to match the cheap red dye of the rest of hair. The circular movements seemed to last for an eternity, broken eventually by a sigh. ‘Tommy was Amelia’s pimp. His girls were working over by Union Canal, and when business dropped off there, three weeks ago, he moved them to this part of town, even though this is Valentine’s turf. Valentine’s been here for over a year. He told Tommy if he didn’t move his girls out of here, he’d…’ She made a throat-slashing motion with her thumbnail then sucked deeply on her cigarette before releasing the smoke in a piped stream through tightly pursed lips. ‘Tommy didn’t pay any attention and his girls kept coming onto our patch and Valentine got majorly pissed off. He came out one night, a week ago, and joined me at West Gate car park, and when Tommy dropped off Amelia there, Valentine really went for him. He gave him one final warning: if Tommy didn’t move his girls, he’d deal with the problem himself and Tommy would have no girls left to work anywhere.’
‘You think Valentine killed them?’
‘I think he might be responsible. I don’t know if he actually killed them but… after he told Tommy, both girls were killed. I’m telling you all this cos we’re all worried Tommy will retaliate. He’s a loose cannon, usually out of his head on drugs or booze, and we don’t feel safe. We’re sure he’ll come after us.’
‘Have you told Valentine you’re worried about Tommy seeking revenge?’
‘I tried to tell him but he got mad at me. Really mad. Valentine doesn’t like being told anything.’
‘What’s Valentine’s surname?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Do you know where he lives?’
She shook her head.
‘Do you have a phone number for him?’
‘No phone numbers. Nothing. He’s extremely cautious. When he wants paying, he comes to find us, and if we don’t see him, we go to Constantine’s Café. Constantine is his cousin.’
‘Where is this café?’
‘On Fallow Avenue, near Samford Bridge. We go there when we want to leave Valentine a message.’
‘Have you worked for him for long?’
‘Too long. I like the work and I didn’t mind Valentine but recently he’s started giving us all a hard time. Business has been dropping off and he thinks we aren’t trying hard enough, which is bollocks, but that’s not how he sees it.’
‘Has he been violent towards you?’
She wouldn’t meet his eyes as she pushed the sleeve of her hooded top up her arm to expose dark bruising on her wrist and then undid the zip to reveal more extensive bruising on her neck. ‘Now you understand why I can’t be seen speaking to you. If he finds out I told you any of this, he’ll do worse than this.’
She began to get to her feet but Murray placed a hand on her arm and she dropped back onto the bench. ‘How many women or girls work for Tommy?’
‘I really don’t know.’
‘What about your co-workers?’
‘Co-workers? You make it sound like I work in a bank or factory. No. I can’t risk asking any of them in case word gets back to Valentine. If he hears we’ve been discussing it, he’ll go ballistic. The last three weeks, he’s been like an animal on the prowl. All the girls are getting worried – really worri
ed. None of the others dare say anything to the police and I’m only speaking to you because of Celeste… and Amelia. She was only a kid.’
‘Did you know Katie, the other girl who was murdered?’
She took a second to respond. ‘No, I didn’t. I share the same house as a few other girls who work for Valentine and I generally don’t mix with anyone else. Amelia was an exception. One day, she arrived at West Gate. Once I realised she was actually soliciting on my patch, I marched across to tell her to shove off, but when I spoke to her, she burst into tears. She apologised and said she didn’t want to be there or even on the game at all. It happens sometimes. Not everyone likes doing this job. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. I eased off on her, told her to pull herself together and suggested she tell Tommy to get lost. I guessed she wouldn’t. You could see it in her eyes. I told her whatever she decided, she was asking for trouble working out of West Gate and she disappeared for a couple of days. I figured it was sorted but the silly cow returned, saying Tommy wasn’t happy with what she’d been earning elsewhere and had forced her to come back to the car park. I couldn’t do anything more to help her and Valentine found out and well… I told you the rest.’ She looked into space for a moment before letting her cigarette drop to the ground and crushing it with her heel.
‘She hated hustling. She wasn’t doing it out of choice. Tommy had some hold over her – don’t know if she was in love with him or scared to death of him. Probably both.’
‘Did you speak to Tommy?’
‘I stayed well out of his way. Amelia told me he spent most of her income on drugs and was a complete nutjob when he was high. The night he and Valentine argued, he was definitely one mad, crazy fucker, so you can understand why I’m worried he’ll come after us. Now, I have to go. Tell Celeste she owes me… big time.’ She walked away, head bowed, and Murray didn’t chase after her.