Deadly Betrayal: A gripping crime thriller full of mystery and suspense (Detective Jane Phillips Book 4)

by OMJ Ryan

  ‘Jesus,’ said Entwistle.

  Phillips continued. ‘When we spoke to Wong just before he died, he admitted he had been at Carpenter’s house that night, but that someone else had killed her.’

  ‘And you think he could have been referring to Zhang Shing?’ said Bovalino.

  ‘I’m almost certain of it. I’m pretty sure Gold Star Trading is behind the St John’s development, and Gold Star Trading is funded by a consortium of Triad families. Without realising it, by blocking the re-zoning of St John’s, Carpenter got in the way of a £700-million investment by some of the deadliest gangsters on the planet. Gangsters who use this man as their gun for hire.’ Phillips turned Shing’s picture around so the team could see it. ‘He has to be in the frame for her murder, but how do we prove it?’

  ‘What about DNA? Maybe he left some behind at the scene?’ said Jones.

  Phillips shook her head. ‘Evans went through that place with a fine-toothed comb. The only DNA he found was from the Carpenters, Wong and Townsend. Nobody else’s.’

  ‘Maybe a good-old police shake-down would do the trick?’ said Bovalino. ‘Get in his face and see if he reacts?’

  ‘You know what, Bov? I think that’s a bloody good idea,’ said Phillips.

  Bovalino grinned.

  ‘Woah! Take it steady, big lad. You’ll be needing a lie down soon,’ joked Jones.

  Phillips didn’t engage and remained silent for a long moment before jumping up from the chair. ‘Right, get your coat, Bov. You’re coming with me. Let's see what Shing has to say for himself,’ she added as she went in search of her car keys.

  29

  The Belmont Casino near Chinatown represented the largest of the chain, and Phillips had decided that it was the best place to start their search for Zhang Shing. After introducing themselves at the main reception, she and Bovalino waited a few minutes before they were approached by a petite Chinese woman wearing a suit and carrying a small leather pouch under her arm. Having experienced Chinese traditions over the last few days in Hong Kong, she was not surprised to see the woman approach Bovalino first.

  ‘Are you from the police?’ said the woman.

  ‘Yes,’ said Bovalino.

  ‘My name is Clarisa Shuren. What is the problem? Our gaming licenses are all up to date,’ she said as she tapped the pouch.

  Phillips stepped forwards and presented her ID. ‘Detective Chief Inspector Phillips. We’d like a word with Mr Zhang Shing.’

  Shuren’s focus turned to Phillips, and her face hardened, ‘Mr Shing is not available.’

  After everything that had transpired in Hong Kong, Phillips’s patience for game-playing had run out. ‘We are here in connection with a murder case and I’d like to speak to Mr Shing immediately. If he is not forthcoming, then I will return with a search warrant and a full team of uniformed officers within the hour to take this place apart. Is that understood?’ she said – louder than was necessary.

  Shuren looked left and right, then nodded. ‘Please wait here a moment.’

  A few minutes later she returned, this time without the leather pouch. ‘Please, come this way,’ she said, and ushered them towards a large set of double doors.

  On the other side, Phillips and Bovalino found themselves walking along a cold concrete corridor, surrounded by breeze block walls and electric strip lights that ran along the ceiling above their heads. After being guided through a labyrinth of left and right turns, they went through another set of double doors and into a more opulent space fitted with thick-pile carpet and soft furnishings. Shuren led them to a large mahogany door emblazoned with the word Manager. She stopped outside, knocked, then entered, and gestured for Phillips and Bovalino to follow her through. Inside, Phillips came face to face with Zhang Shing, who sat in a high-backed leather chair behind a vast mahogany desk. The room was windowless and lit by a series of up-lighters fitted to the blue and gold papered walls. Shing’s face was cold, his eyes black and expressionless. A chill ran up Phillips’s spine.

  Shuren took a seat on a plain office chair to Shing’s left and pointed to two seats opposite the desk. ‘Please, sit.’

  Phillips and Bovalino sat down and Bovalino pulled out his notepad.

  ‘Mr Shing speaks very little English, so I will interpret on his behalf,’ said Shuren.

  Here we go again, thought Phillips; more game-play. She decided to get straight to the point. ‘Mr Shing, can you tell me where you were on the night of the 11th of August?’

  Shuren translated.

  As Shing answered, only his mouth moved; his eyes remained locked on Phillips.

  ‘He was here, working,’ said Shuren.

  ‘From what time?’

  Shuren translated again and a moment later, answered. ‘He was here from midday through to midnight that day.’

  ‘Can anyone vouch for him?’ asked Phillips.

  ‘I can,’ said Shuren without relaying the question to Shing.

  ‘Do you have CCTV that can back that up?’

  Once more, Shuren answered without speaking to Shing. ‘On the casino floor, yes, but not in the offices.’

  ‘Well, maybe Mr Shing was captured on camera during that time whilst out on the floor?’ said Phillips.

  Shuren shook her head. ‘Mr Shing does not go out into the public spaces.’

  Phillips raised an eyebrow. ‘Really? Why’s that?’

  ‘It is how he prefers it,’ said Shuren.

  ‘I see,’ said Phillips as she held Shing’s gaze. ‘Would you like to know why we want to know where Mr Shing was on the 11th of August?’

  Shuren flashed a thin smile. ‘I am just here to translate for Mr Shing, Inspector. The content of the conversation is none of my business.’

  Phillips returned her smile. ‘Would you ask Mr Shing if he knew of a woman called Victoria Carpenter, please?’

  Shuren turned to face Shing as she interpreted. Keeping his eyes locked on Phillips, he answered quickly; his response sounded abrupt.

  ‘He does not know anyone by that name,’ said Shuren.

  ‘What about Wong? Jimmy Wong? Does he remember him?’

  The process was repeated, with Shing offering another staccato response. ‘Mr Wong did work here for a while, but he now lives in Hong Kong,’ said Shuren.

  ‘Correction,’ said Phillips. ‘Jimmy Wong used to live in Hong Kong, but he was murdered last week.’

  Shuren didn’t flinch as Shuren relayed the statement. Shing’s reply was the shortest yet.

  ‘He says that is not his concern,’ said Shuren.

  ‘Tell me about Lui Genji?’ asked Phillips.

  ‘What about her?’ said Shuren.

  ‘You do know of her then?’

  Shuren nodded. ‘She is the owner of the business.’

  ‘What can Mr Shing tell us about his relationship with his cousin?’

  Shuren’s eyes widened before she turned and tentatively interpreted the question.

  Finally, Shing’s face changed. He appeared to snarl as he turned to look at his assistant. His answer this time was far louder than the earlier ones, and he appeared agitated.

  Shuren seemed to shrink in her chair slightly as she responded. ‘Mr Shing says his relationship with Lui Genji is not of your concern.’

  ‘Oh really? Because, as I understand it, it was his relationship with his cousin that brought him to Manchester – after he murdered a Hong Kong government official four months ago. So, I think that makes it very much my concern.’

  Shuren reluctantly relayed Phillips’s words to Shing.

  Shing’s soulless eyes locked on Phillips’s once again as he spoke.

  ‘Mr Shing has nothing more to say. He wishes for you to leave now.’

  An awkward silence filled the room as Phillips held Shing’s gaze for a long moment. She tapped Bovalino on the arm and signalled it was time to go. As they stood, Phillips delivered a parting shot. ‘Will you let Mr Shing know that he’ll be hearing from us again, very soon. And also, please tell
him that if he has any ideas about leaving Manchester or heading back overseas, he won’t get very far. We’ll be watching him.’

  Shuren shared Phillips’s threat but Shing remained silent.

  ‘Thank you for your time.’ Phillips led Bovalino out of the office.

  ‘I’ll show you out,’ said Shuren as she rushed out after them.

  Back on the street a few minutes later, Phillips stopped.

  ‘I think it’s fair to say you rattled his cage, Guv.’

  Phillips shook her head. ‘I’m even more convinced he’s involved, now. This whole thing about him being the casino manager is bullshit. I mean, what kind of a casino manager doesn’t want to go into the casino? And as for not having CCTV behind the scenes, that’s horseshit too. With all that money floating around, there has to be cameras.’

  ‘Could we get a warrant to view them?’

  ‘Not without more evidence, Bov, and right now – aside from the last words of a Triad gangster relayed on the other side of the world – we’ve got bugger-all on Shing.’

  At that moment, Phillips’s phone began to ring in her coat pocket. Fishing it out, she read Chakrabortty’s ID. ‘Hi Tan. What’s up?’

  ‘I thought you’d want to know that the DNA from the foetus in Carpenter’s womb is a match for the semen found in her the night she died.’

  ‘It’s Don Townsend’s?’ said Phillips, drawing a puzzled look from Bovalino.

  ‘Yes, it is. He was the father. Not the husband.’

  Phillips sighed heavily. ‘Ok, Tan. I guess I’ll have to let him know, then.’

  ‘I’ll leave it with you, Jane. Oh and I should’ve said, Victoria Carpenter’s body can be handed over to the family now. We’re all done with it.’

  ‘Thanks. I’ll pass that on.’

  Chakrabortty rang off.

  Phillips placed the phone back in her pocket.

  ‘What’s that about Don Townsend, Guv?’ asked Bovalino.

  ‘Turns out DNA proves that he was the father of the baby Carpenter was carrying. Not her husband.’

  ‘Oh, God. Aaron Carpenter’ll be devastated.’

  ‘Not if he doesn’t know she was pregnant, he won’t,’ said Phillips.

  ‘You mean you haven’t told him, yet?’

  Phillips shook her head. ‘Considering he lost his wife, I didn’t think it was worth telling him – if it turned out the baby wasn’t his. I didn’t want to add to his suffering.’

  ‘So what are you gonna do, now?’ asked Bovalino.

  ‘As for Aaron Carpenter, I dunno, Bov. But I am going to have to tell Townsend, and I know for a fact he’s going to be heartbroken. Victoria was the love of his life. Then there’s the funeral to consider. God, it’s all such a mess.’

  Bovalino blew his lips loudly. ‘Nothing good ever comes from having an affair, Guv. Nothing.’

  Phillips tapped Bovalino absentmindedly on his left arm. ‘You’re right there, Bov,’ she said as she considered what to do for the best. ‘Come on, let’s get back to the car. I need to call Aaron and let him know he can make the arrangements.’

  30

  After finishing her call with Aaron Carpenter, Phillips decided it would be best to talk to Don Townsend immediately. She knew he wouldn’t want to talk in front of Bovalino, so sent Bovalino back to Ashton House to update Jones and Entwistle on the meeting with Zhang Shing.

  Now, standing on the corner of Deansgate and Peter Street, now, she waited patiently for Townsend to appear from the offices of the Manchester Evening News. He had sounded surprised to hear from her; even more so that she was waiting outside and needed to speak to him. Ten minutes after her call, he came into view as he pushed his way through the revolving door at the front of the office block. He lit a cigarette as he strode towards her.

  ‘This is an unexpected pleasure,’ said Townsend as he blew smoke from his nose. He looked exhausted, with dark shadows under his red eyes.

  ‘Walk with me,’ said Phillips.

  Townsend fell in beside her as they made their way along Deansgate.

  ‘So, how have you been?’ said Phillips.

  ‘Not great, to be honest. I’m ok one minute and then in pieces the next.’

  ‘That’s grief for you.’ Phillips turned right down St John Street, where it was noticeably quieter than the main drag.

  ‘So, why the surprise visit, Jane?’

  Phillips took a silent breath. ‘You know I told you that Victoria was pregnant?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Well, we now know who the father was.’

  Townsend stopped in his tracks and stared at Phillips as he swallowed hard. His lips quivered. ‘It’s me, isn’t it?’ he managed to whisper.

  Phillips nodded gently. ‘Yes, Don. I’m so sorry.’

  Townsend didn’t answer. He continued walking in silence. Phillips followed.

  Eventually they reached St John’s Gardens and Tranquil Park, where Townsend dropped down onto the nearest bench. He flicked his cigarette to the ground and stubbed it out with his shoe before lighting another one.

  ‘She loved this park,’ said Townsend. ‘We would meet here for lunch most days. Sit on the grass, laugh, cuddle, make plans for our future together.’

  ‘I can’t imagine what you’re going through,’ said Phillips, laying her hand on his wrist.

  ‘Are you sure the baby’s mine?’

  ‘Yes I am. The pathologist called me in the last hour to tell me the DNA from the foetus was a match for your semen.’

  Townsend closed his eyes and dropped his chin to his chest.

  Phillips said nothing.

  After a few moments, Townsend looked up again. ‘Does Aaron know?’

  ‘No. He didn’t know she was pregnant – and until I knew for certain who the father was – I didn’t think it was necessary to tell him.’

  Townsend took a long drag from his cigarette, ‘So, will you tell him now?’

  ‘I honestly don’t know what to do for the best, Don. I understand he has a right to know, but I keep thinking, if it were me, would I really want to know that my wife was pregnant with her lover’s child? Wouldn’t that be the last indignity?’

  Townsend remained silent as he blew out cigarette smoke.

  ‘Also,’ Phillips said, ‘Victoria’s body is ready for burial. I thought you should know.’

  Townsend shook his head. ‘I can’t believe it. I meet the woman of my dreams and she’s having my child, and then bam! – they’re both taken away. Just like that. I knew an arsehole like me could never get that lucky.’

  Phillips watched him for a moment as he stared into space. ‘Will you go to the funeral?’

  Townsend let out an ironic chuckle. ‘Why? Do you think I’ll be welcome?’

  ‘Maybe not.’ Phillips produced a thin smile, then moved onto the main reason for her visit. ‘Look, Don, I can’t say too much, but I think Victoria was murdered because of this park.’

  Townsend recoiled. ‘You what?’

  ‘I think she was killed because she was protecting this park from development; a £700-million development that I believe is being funded by Chinese mob money.’

  ‘Are you serious?’

  Phillips nodded. ‘I’m afraid so. This last week I flew to Hong Kong on the trail of our main suspect in her murder, a guy called Jimmy Wong. I watched him being murdered right in front of me by what I suspect was a Triad gang. Retribution for him leading us into their world.’

  ‘Jesus,’ said Townsend. ‘That’s insane.’

  ‘Tell me about it. At one point I thought I might be next.’

  ‘What? They tried to kill you too?’

  ‘No. But they could have, and I think that was the point. We got off with a warning to leave it well alone and get out of Hong Kong.’

  ‘Who’s we?’

  ‘Me and DS Jones. He came with me. You see, the thing is, before Jimmy Wong was killed, he admitted to us that he was there at the house when Victoria was killed, but that someone else actually
murdered her.’

  ‘Did he say who?’

  ‘No. He said he’d rather die in one of our prisons than reveal the name of his accomplice. His head was cut off with a cleaver about an hour later,’ said Phillips.

  ‘My God. That is so fucked up.’

  ‘Look, Don. I have an idea who Wong’s accomplice might have been, but I need proof.’

  ‘Can you tell me who it is?’ asked Townsend.

  ‘Not at the moment, no, but I could really do with your help.’

  ‘Name it.’

  ‘Well, I wondered if Victoria had ever said anything to you about being threatened, or someone wanting to do her harm.’

  Townsend dropped his cigarette to the floor. ‘She never said anything like that, but if you think she was killed because of the development, then you need to speak to her boss, Jennings. She was convinced he was bent and taking back-handers to push through planning permission and re-zoning right across the city. He’s a right piece of work.’

  ‘I’ve met him.’

  ‘She hated him. He gave her the creeps and she was convinced he was crooked.’

  Phillips nodded. ‘I must admit that when I talked to him, I got the impression he was keeping something from us.’

  ‘Sounds like him. He’s a slippery fucker.’

  ‘So why did she think he was on the take?’ asked Phillips.

  ‘It was something her old PA, Claire Peacock, said when she was kicked out: that Jennings wasn’t to be trusted and that Vicky should watch her back.’

  ‘Vicky’s PA was fired? When did that happen?’

  Townsend shrugged. ‘I can’t remember exactly, but at least six months ago, I’d say.’

  ‘And did Victoria believe the PA…about Jennings? I mean, if she’d been sacked, could it have been sour grapes on her part?’

  Townsend lit yet another cigarette and took a long drag before exhaling as he spoke. ‘The whole way she was sacked was dodgy. I don’t know the full details, but apparently, during a cost-cutting exercise a while back, Claire was asked to work for Jennings as well as Vicky. His own PA was retiring and they were looking at consolidating roles. Claire had initially just reported to Vicky, but seemed fine with taking on Jennings too. I don’t think Vicky was too happy about it, because she liked having Claire to herself, but she understood the need to save money. So, everything moved on and seemed to work ok for the next twelve months or so. Then, out of the blue, Claire was sacked after twenty years’ service. She left in a hurry and wouldn’t tell Vicky why she had been dismissed. When Vicky pushed Jennings on it, he said it was to do with financial irregularities and it needed to remain confidential. Vicky was furious. Having been Claire’s direct line manager for so long, she demanded to know what was going on, but Jennings threw policy in her face and told her it wasn’t up for discussion.’