by Carol Wyer
‘But if you and Tommy were sharing a patch together, then you have to take responsibility for the fact Katie was only fifteen when she started soliciting.’ He clicked his tongue several times. ‘The press will take a stern view. The public definitely won’t like that, and I doubt you’ll be able to show your face in town. Constantine will have to shut up shop too. People can be judgmental, you know?’
‘I didn’t share anything with the little shit. His girls turned up three weeks ago. I told him to move them on. My girls were losing business.’
‘But he didn’t leave.’
‘No, and I made it clear I wanted them gone.’
‘Did you threaten him?’
‘What if I did?’
‘He’s disappeared. Maybe you carried out your threat.’ Murray smiled again and gave a light shrug.
Valentine thumped the desk with a balled fist. ‘I didn’t kill the little fucker! He’s around somewhere. Most likely hiding from you lot.’
‘When did you last see him?’
‘A few nights ago.’
‘Did you threaten him?’
Valentine ran a tongue over dry lips. ‘I made it clear I wasn’t happy about the situation.’
‘Did you threaten him?’ Murray repeated.
‘I might have.’
‘Did you threaten his girls?’
‘No!’
‘Then what did you say to him?’
‘I put the frighteners on him. I wanted him to bugger off. He’s a nobody, a druggie who uses his girls to feed his habit. I didn’t need to do anything other than unnerve him.’
‘But he didn’t listen to you?’
‘No. He was being a pain.’
‘What were you going to do to him?’
‘I hadn’t decided.’ His eyes drilled into Murray.
‘Were you considering roughing him up?’
‘It doesn’t matter what I was thinking about doing because I didn’t do it. I haven’t clapped eyes on the shitbag since that night.’
‘Let’s move on to Amelia and Katie. Did you ever speak to them?’
Valentine ignored the question and tugged at his bracelet, then adjusted his shirt cuffs.
‘It doesn’t look good for you, Valentine. You threatened Tommy… he’s disappeared… and Amelia and Katie are both dead.’
It was another long moment before Valentine responded. ‘Okay. Okay. I spoke to Amelia on Friday afternoon at about two. I was driving around town and I spotted her in West Gate car park. I pulled over and told her I’d had enough of Tommy’s bullshit, and if they all weren’t out of the area by Friday night, I’d kill him.’
‘Did you argue with her?’
‘No. I gave her the message and drove off.’
‘What about Katie?’
‘I didn’t speak to her at all and I don’t know anything else. I don’t know who murdered them and I don’t know where Tommy is. He’s a slippery bastard.’
‘You must admit it’s convenient for you that Amelia and Katie have both been murdered. After all, they were stealing business from you.’
‘Look, I didn’t kill them, all right?’
‘It’s interesting though, isn’t it?’
‘What is?’
‘Well, your girls work the same patch and not one of them was attacked.’
Valentine’s lids lowered and he snarled at Murray. ‘I didn’t kill them.’
Murray nodded. ‘I see. You mentioned Tommy is a druggie.’
‘Yeah, almost always high as a kite.’
‘Any idea who supplies him with drugs?’
His nostrils quivered wide as he snorted. ‘No. I don’t get involved in any of that shit.’
‘Only prostitution then,’ said Murray, earning a low growl from Valentine. He moved on smoothly with, ‘Any idea where we might find him?’
‘No. He moves about a lot, making it impossible to root him out. He rents places, cash in hand, for a month or two, then moves on. Last I heard, he was in The Towers.’
‘Do you happen to know how many girls he works with?’
‘Could be two, could be twenty, for all I know. All I know is he put those girls on my patch.’
‘We’ll need to know your whereabouts over the last three days. Let’s start with Friday. You already admitted you were at West Gate car park at two in the afternoon. What did you do afterwards?
‘Went to Constantine’s.’
‘How long did you stay there?’
‘Until five-ish, then I went home.’
‘Where’s home?’
‘Radley Estate.’
‘Any witnesses who can confirm that?’
‘No. I live alone. Neighbours might have seen me pull onto my drive.’
‘What about Saturday evening, say around eight o’clock?’
‘Constantine’s. I was there all night except when I went to check on the girls, around eleven o’clock.’
‘Anyone apart from Constantine see you at the café?’
‘A few regulars came in while I was there.’
‘What about this morning, around eight?’
‘Bed. Asleep. I don’t usually get up until midday, and before you ask, no, I don’t have anyone who can vouch for me. Now, unless you want to charge me, you’ll have to let me go.’
‘We’ll have to check out your alibi for Saturday.’
‘Go ahead. I’m not hiding anything. I didn’t kill anyone. Have you considered this might all be Tommy’s doing? He’s not right in the head, and when he’s been using – pfft!’ He circled the space around his temples with his finger. ‘Crazy man.’
Murray glanced at Lucy, who spoke for the first time. ‘We’ll have to ask you to remain here while we check out your alibi, and we’ll need a DNA sample to eliminate you from our enquiries.’
A smile crept across Valentine’s lean features. ‘See, you haven’t got anything on me.’
Murray maintained a stony face and replied with a quiet, ‘Not yet but if we don’t find Tommy, we’ll definitely be talking again.’
Chapter Twenty-One
Then
Twenty-two-year-old Whitey is lying on his bunk, porno magazine in front of his face. ‘Hey, fat boy!’
‘Piss off.’ He drops onto his bunk next to Whitey and undoes the laces on his boots. ‘You know you’ll wear your eyes out staring at that?’
‘Not my eyes I’m worried about,’ Whitey replies, balling his hand loosely and shaking it.
‘I got the message. Don’t need a demo.’
‘You coming out with us tonight?’
‘I might pass. I’m knackered.’
‘Fuck off! We’re going home in a couple of weeks and you’ll be able to sleep for a fortnight. Here’s the plan. A few of us are going to the mess to get wasted and maybe find ourselves some fun.’ Whitey’s eyebrows dance suggestively.
‘Mate, I’m not in the mood. Besides, I’ve got Felicity waiting for me back home.’
‘She’s never going to find out. What’s the harm?’ Whitey loves to taunt him about Felicity, a junior nurse who has the face of an angel and the body of… he doesn’t dare think about her body at the moment.
‘I’ll come out for a few drinks.’
His friend bends his arms at the elbows and flaps, all the while making chicken calls.
He ignores the taunts, pulls off his socks and lays them beside him. ‘You finished yet?’
‘You soft wanker. “Felicity this and Felicity that.” You know you can be a right bore sometimes.’ Whitey gets to his feet and picks up the magazine, which he tosses next to the socks. ‘I think you need this more than me. You’ve probably forgotten what goes where. Don’t want to disappoint the delicious Felicity when you get home by firing off all your pellets as soon as you set eyes on her.’
‘Get lost! It’s not all about sex, you know? Well, you wouldn’t know.’
‘Oh, Felicity. Love of my life. I only want you, you alone, my goddess!’ Whitey pretends to put two fingers down his throat and makes gagging noises
.
‘Why don’t you fuck off and exercise your wrists in the toilets and let me get changed in peace?’
‘Already exercised. I’m going for a shower and to make myself look even more handsome. The ladies won’t know what’s hit them.’ He lifts his washbag and blows a kiss before he departs.
He gives a half-smile. He and Whitey have been good friends since training. He’s a bit of a handful at times, especially when he’s had a few drinks, but he’s loyal, and in this profession, you need to trust the guys around you. Whitey’s helped him out on more than one occasion when the going’s got tough. Not that he can’t handle himself, but the men in this troop work hard and play hard, and at the start he found himself the butt of a few pranks until Whitey stepped in.
He undresses, replacing kit on the relevant shelves in his locker. He won’t be sorry to board the plane in a fortnight and return home. It’s been a gruelling few weeks, training in Kenya. Although he hasn’t said anything to Whitey, who goes all weird every time he mentions Felicity, he’s thinking about proposing to her. It would be good to make a commitment. He’s ready for it. He hopes she feels the same way. It’s tough being married to a soldier. He collects his socks for washing and, with a towel wrapped around his waist and his washbag under his arm, heads off.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Monday, 4 November – Evening
Lucy marched into the office and spoke directly to Murray, who was at his desk. ‘We’re going to have to let Valentine go. Constantine confirmed he was in the café all Saturday evening and there are a few customers who remember him being there.’
‘Oh, come on, Lucy, Constantine probably put them all up to it. He’s protecting his cousin.’
‘Makes no odds. We can’t charge him because his DNA doesn’t match any on the girls’ bodies.’
‘He could have sent someone else to do his dirty work.’
Lucy accepted it was possible then added, ‘You know, Tommy could well be behind these murders and has gone to ground.’
‘I agree he could have murdered Amelia and Katie but why Rachel and Dominic?’
‘He was a druggie. He might have known Rachel through a dealer or maybe he even sold her drugs or been high and attacked them.’ She raised her hands in defeat. ‘I don’t fucking know. All I know is without any evidence pointing to his involvement, we’re stuffed. Where are we on Eugene Hardy’s whereabouts?’
The question was directed at Ian, adjacent to Murray.
‘The phone company say his phone isn’t transmitting and the last outgoing call was made at ten twenty this morning, to his eighty-two-year-old mother in Dundee. She confirmed that, saying he rang for a chat. He was taking Rachel’s death badly and mentioned taking time out to digest what had happened, but she says it’s unlike him to go off without telling anyone where he’s gone, especially those at work. She says he’s never missed a day off work.’
‘Did he say where he was ringing from?’
‘No, but the phone company place the call in the centre of Samford, and given we’ve also found his car in the multi-storey car park there, he might have made the call from there.’
‘Then he was at the car park at ten twenty this morning?’
‘It appears that way. His car was clocked coming in at ten o’clock on the dot.’
‘Have we got any CCTV of him?’
Ian shook his head. ‘We haven’t found anything. We did, however, establish he usually parks his car there, in the same spot most days. He has a pass, like many who work in town. Maybe he intended going to the store and changed his mind.’
‘We’ll consider it but if he isn’t at work, where’s he gone?’
‘All I know is his car is still in the car park. We’re monitoring it. When he returns, we’ll know about it.’
‘If he hasn’t got his car, he must have other transport, or even got a lift from somebody. Has he got any relatives he might be visiting?’
‘None in this country. He might well be reeling after the events surrounding his daughter and needed some time out. Gone to visit friends,’ suggested Murray.
Lucy sat on the edge of her desk. ‘I guess so…’
‘Finally!’ Ian clasped his hands above his head.
‘What?’
‘Mark Washington – owns both flat 52 and 114 in The Towers. Lives in Sheffield but there is a phone number for him.’
‘Give him a call. See what he knows.’
One of the technical staff barged into the room, face pink with exertion, laptop in his hands. He placed it on the nearest desk. ‘We’ve found something! Outside Hardy’s department store, going back a week.’
Ian, Lucy and Murray clustered around the desk and watched as a picture of the pavement directly in front of the offloading area and onto the road flickered into view. A blue car, an SUV, drove past and the officer said, ‘Any second now.’ No sooner had he spoken than a young woman, head bowed, came into view and halted abruptly. Once she lifted her head it was clear who it was: Katie Bray.
‘Why’s she stopped there?’ asked Ian.
‘Wait and see.’
Katie was focused on something or somebody out of sight of the camera but soon a figure became visible, their back to the camera, and the teenager’s mouth dropped open. The person moved closer to her and she took a step back, her head moving from side to side.
‘She looks scared,’ said Lucy.
The person snatched Katie by the top of her arm and pulled her towards them but she freed herself and beat a retreat. The figure was motionless, watching her depart, then slowly turned in the direction of the camera. The man with a neat black beard was Eugene Hardy.
Lucy slapped the desk with the flat of her palm. ‘He lied to us. He claimed he didn’t know her. We have to find him!’
Natalie looked at the number trying to reach her. It was David.
‘Hey.’
‘Hi.’ His voice was hesitant. ‘I wondered if you’d had a chance to consider coming out for a drink.’
She wrinkled her nose. She thought they’d already decided she’d sort something out after the investigation was resolved. What was the matter with him? She decided not to be snarky. ‘Sorry, we’re snowed under. I can’t promise anything for a while.’
‘I wanted to talk to you about something.’
She tried not to sigh. She didn’t have time for a needy ex-husband. She thought he was getting back on his feet again. ‘I really don’t have the time at the moment.’
‘No, I understand. I wanted to do it face to face rather than over the phone.’
‘Do what?’
‘It’s… well… I’ve met somebody, a woman… Sara.’
Lucy appeared at the door. Natalie beckoned her in.
‘Great. Look, David. I have to go. We’ll talk about this another time. I’m really happy for you.’
‘Okay, but I wanted to let you know—’
‘Have to go.’ She ended the call.
Lucy was buzzing with renewed energy. ‘Eugene is involved. We’ve got footage of him talking to Katie. More like arguing rather than talking. The bastard kept that quiet, which begs the question, why?’
Natalie erred on the side of caution, especially given Eugene’s influential network and Dan’s warning. ‘It’s promising but best not to leap to conclusions. He might have been asking her to move away from the store and he didn’t tell us because he knew we’d be suspicious. Obviously, we need to find out what the conversation or argument was about. Have you any idea where he might be?’
‘No joy yet. His car is parked in the multi-storey but we’ve not located him on any CCTV from the indoor shopping centre or the main street.’
‘Damn! Nothing at all on any of the cameras?’
‘No.’
‘Then he must have gone off in the opposite direction or even cut through the alleyway beside the store and gone out onto Marston Street, although where he might have been headed is anybody’s guess. You watching his car for his return?’
‘The security camera at the multi-storey car park exit scans and registers number plates of vehicles when they leave. We’re monitoring it for any activity on his car. In the meantime, what should I do about Valentine?’
‘Can anyone vouch for his whereabouts around the times of the murders?’
‘His cousin, Constantine, but I’m not sure how trustworthy he is.’
‘Bear him in mind and focus on finding Eugene and Tommy for now.’
‘I also need some assistance. I’d like to second officers from another unit to keep an eye on Tommy’s flat in case he returns, rather than run a surveillance ourselves. Ian spoke to Mark Washington, who owns the flats, and apparently Tommy paid him a month’s rent, £800, for both flats. The month is almost coming to an end, which means there’s a chance Tommy will return to collect his gear.’
‘I’ll arrange it. Did Tommy only rent the two flats?’
‘That’s right. Mark has other places to let in the block – apparently he can’t give them away now the block is due to be demolished. Tommy only wanted two places, which probably suggests if he has other girls on the streets, they’re living elsewhere in Samford.’
‘If the flats were so cheap, would he have rented others somewhere else? I’m not getting the impression he has a lot of money.’
‘You’re most likely right, which would also imply he only used Amelia and Katie to solicit. We’ll still ask about, on the off-chance he’s renting elsewhere. Can I ask another favour? If you’ve got time, there’s a bunch of statements that need checking. On Sunday, Poppy and Andy interviewed the staff at Hardy’s about Rachel, and there haven’t been enough free minutes in the day since then to read through them. They ought to be double-checked.’
‘I’ll go through them for you.’
‘They’re on my desk. I’ve got a meeting with Dominic’s best friend to see if there’s another reason, other than shagging Eugene’s daughter, why he might have been killed and find out more about the man. We know very little about him.’ Lucy gave her a thumbs-up and vanished, her strides ringing out in the corridor.
Natalie arranged the surveillance Lucy had requested before heading for the by now empty office, abandoned like the deck of the Titanic, with chairs shoved back haphazardly, backpacks squeezed under desks littered with empty cups, wrappers and infinite pieces of paper, an orange stress ball with a grinning face balanced on a water bottle, and a half-eaten ham sandwich on top of a notepad, all of which hinted at the intensity of the investigation. Even now, at seven o’clock, the team was still working flat out on the streets, hunting for witnesses and the two men who had disappeared. None of them would be able to maintain this pace for much longer. She entered Lucy’s office and instantly spotted the statements in a tidy pile. She dropped onto Lucy’s chair, picked up the first and began reading. Poppy’s writing was childlike, much like her own daughter’s had been, with circles instead of dots over the letter i. The person she’d interviewed hadn’t had a bad word to say about Rachel and had been at the cinema with her daughter at the time Rachel was killed. Natalie reached for the second and sat back in the chair. This was going to take quite a while.