THE DCI BLIZZARD MURDER MYSTERIES: Books 1 to 3

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THE DCI BLIZZARD MURDER MYSTERIES: Books 1 to 3 Page 33

by John Dean


  ‘I am not sure their search was particularly thorough. After all, they had the guns and that was all they were looking for. No, my team was looking for something else, a sign that children had been taken to the depot.’

  The smile was wiped from Cargill’s face and he looked at his lawyer for support. Gorton said nothing, unnerved by the new-found assurance in Blizzard’s voice.

  ‘And guess what?’ continued the chief inspector. ‘It looks like your client has been having sleepovers, Mr Gorton.’

  ‘Jesus Christ,’ breathed Cargill, glancing around him as if seeking some kind of escape.

  ‘Now you know how those kids felt,’ said Blizzard, his voice suddenly fierce. ‘You are trapped and by the time we have finished, I am going to nail you and your little bunch of scumbags to the fucking wall. And, yes, Mr Gorton, you can use that in any complaint you may wish to submit to my chief constable.’

  The lawyer opened his mouth to remonstrate but something in Blizzard’s expression suggested it would be a bad idea.

  Chapter twenty-nine

  Blizzard left Randall and walked to one of the other interview rooms. Joined by Colley on the way, he entered the room to find Brian Graham sitting nervously at the table. He was dressed in grubby white shirt and trousers thrown on when he was arrested and, although he was trying to look calm, the fear showed behind his eyes. His solicitor, a thin, balding man in a pale grey suit sat next to him.

  ‘I would like an explanation as to why my client has been kept waiting so long,’ he said.

  ‘Yes, I am sorry about that,’ said Blizzard, giving the solicitor a disarming smile. ‘We have a lot to do, as I am sure you can appreciate.’

  ‘Yes, and I want to know what is going on, Chief Inspector.’

  ‘Your client was arrested on suspicion of involvement with the murders of the Galston family 15 years ago.’

  ‘Preposterous!’ exclaimed Graham, springing to his feet.

  ‘Actually, I think it probably is, Mr Graham.’

  ‘You do?’ said the accountant, sitting down again.

  His lawyer looked equally taken aback. Colley said nothing; his body language did the speaking for him as he sat back with arms folded and pursed lips, refusing to look at the chief inspector.

  ‘Yes,’ said Blizzard. ‘You see, Mr Graham, we acted in good faith when we brought you in. You had been named as the leader of a child sex ring which has been responsible for a number of murders, including the Galston girls.’

  ‘Named by whom?’ demanded Graham.

  ‘Cara Galston.’

  ‘Are you really going to take the word of a woman like her over someone like me?’

  ‘We now realise that she probably named you out of spite because you refused to handle the purchase of CG Haulage for her. In fact, Mr Graham, you have shown yourself to be a man of great moral standing and I apologise for the way you have been treated. You are a victim in all of this.’

  ‘Be that as it may,’ blurted out Colley, unable to contain himself any longer, ‘she did name him, guv. She seems to have been right about all the others, why not about him?’

  ‘I think we should discuss this later,’ said Blizzard.

  ‘But…’

  ‘Leave it,’ snapped Blizzard, looking sharply at the sergeant.

  Colley looked as if he was about to challenge the statement then shrugged and sat back, folding his arms once more and eying the chief inspector furiously.

  ‘Perhaps,’ said the lawyer, standing up and giving Colley a smug look, ‘you should learn to be less impetuous, Sergeant. I take it my client is free to go now, Chief Inspector?’

  Colley bit his lip but said nothing as Blizzard wafted a hand wearily at the door.

  ‘I will be submitting a formal complaint about this,’ said the lawyer tartly as he led his client out into the corridor.

  ‘I am sure you will,’ said Blizzard. ‘The others are putting theirs on a pile by the front door, you might want to do the same.’

  When a uniformed constable had led Graham and his lawyer out into the corridor, the chief inspector turned to Colley.

  ‘And as for you,’ said Blizzard. ‘You have shown yourself capable of sinking to the very depths of deceit.’

  ‘I like to oblige,’ said the sergeant. ‘But are you sure this will work? If we lose him, that’s worse that Wendy Talbot letting Ralph Cargill slip through her fingers. We’ll never hear the last of it.’

  ‘You do sound like Arthur sometimes. And, no, I am not sure it will work. Who have you got tailing him?’

  ‘Fee and Bobby B are on first turn.’

  ‘That’s another night making my own sodding dinner,’ said Blizzard. He smiled as Mather walked in with a pleased expression on his face. ‘And what’s tickled your fancy, young man?’

  ‘It’s all unravelling, guv,’ said Mather, sitting down in the seat recently vacated by Brian Graham. ‘They’re all trying to save their skins now. All they want to do is cut deals.’

  ‘Anyone say anything about Barry Lawson?’ asked Colley, thinking back to his informant’s body on the mortuary slab.

  ‘Seems he procured a lot of the kids when he worked in social services. Went into a lot of care homes, apparently.’

  ‘God, did I misjudge him,’ said Colley.

  ‘Hindsight is a wonderful thing,’ said Blizzard. ‘So, who killed Lawson? Lenny Rowles?’

  ‘Looks like it. Seems they knew he was talking to Dave. There’s someone else keeps being mentioned. That photographer bloke Gerry Brauner. The gang suspected he was trying to break the story and Graham became paranoid, kept ringing him and telling him to keep his trap shut. When they brought Lenny Rowles back, he decided that Brauner and Cara had to go. Looks like they got away, though.’

  ‘There’s time enough for them,’ said Blizzard. ‘Time enough.’

  Chapter thirty

  All was quiet in Hafton Cemetery at 5am the next morning, the stones silent sentinels to the finale of yet another human drama. Blizzard and his dozen-strong team had arrived half an hour previously, alerted by a call from the surveillance shift that had been parked outside Brian Graham’s house for much of the night, taking over from Fee and her partner shortly after nine. At first, it seemed that they had been wasting their time because the accountant had stayed indoors for most of the time.

  However, shortly after four, he left the house and drove to one of the city’s council estates, arriving at the door of a maisonette to pick up a man whose bulky, silhouetted figure the watching officers recognised as it picked its way across the walkway and down onto the weed-infested quadrangle. The surveillance team felt a thrill of excitement as they crouched among the trees, watching Rowles digging up the grave of Susan Graham, her husband shooting furtive glances around, each one sending the watching officers crouching lower.

  ‘Relax,’ growled Rowles, looking up at him and leering. ‘They can’t hurt you, they’re all dead.’

  ‘Show more bloody respect, for God’s sake! One of them happens to be my wife.’

  ‘Yeah, and some respect you showed her,’ said Rowles, returning to his digging.

  Graham looked away. The watching officers could see the uneasy expression on his face. Blizzard and the team watched as Rowles dug, impervious to their presence, while Graham paced around nervously, occasionally glancing at his watch and sometimes peering into the darkness around them. Eventually, there was the sound of spade hitting timber and, with some difficulty, the two men hauled up the coffin. Rowles produced a crowbar and levered open the lid.

  ‘The last place we would ever look,’ murmured Colley.

  ‘Let’s do this,’ said Blizzard.

  He walked forward and flashed a torch at the two men. Graham cried out and tried to run but Mather hurled himself from behind a tree and knocked him to the ground, where the accountant lay winded. Rowles gave an enraged roar, snatched up the spade and swung it at the onrushing Colley. The sergeant ducked and Rowles sprinted away through the trees, still cl
utching the tool. Two shadowy figures emerged in front of him, half-illuminated by the flashing torchlight, but Rowles veered round them and continued to run in the direction of the entrance, showing remarkable pace for a big man. Colley sprinted after him, hurdling graves, his feet thundering on the soft earth as he closed on the fleeing Rowles. As Rowles reached the front gate, he realised that the sergeant was still behind him and whirled round, glowering at his pursuer. For a moment or two he backed up until he bumped against the gates then looked wildly about him for a way out. Finding nothing, he returned his gaze to the sergeant.

  ‘Nowhere to run, Lenny,’ said the sergeant.

  ‘I should have finished you off at the playing field.’

  ‘Come on, give it up,’ said the sergeant.

  ‘Never,’ said Rowles and lunged forward.

  Colley was too slow to react and the spade caught him full in the face, the sergeant hollering in pain and staggering backwards. As Colley sprawled on the ground, Rowles took a step forward and raised the spade to administer the final blow.

  ‘Not a good idea, Lenny,’ said a voice and Rowles looked up to see John Blizzard walking towards him.

  ‘You!’

  ‘Yeah, me, Lenny-boy. Been waiting a long time for this. There’s a lot of people want to talk to you.’

  Looking beyond the chief inspector, Rowles could see other officers approaching and noticed that two of them were pointing firearms at him. He looked back at Blizzard, seemingly uncertain as to his next move.

  ‘See,’ said Blizzard, ‘it really is over, Lenny.’

  ‘One more step!’ snarled the killer, holding the spade high above his head and looking down at the prostrate Colley. ‘One more step and your pal gets it.’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ said Blizzard. ‘See, if you move so much as a muscle, the firearms officers will drop you where you stand.’

  ‘Maybe that would be for the best,’ said Rowles, the fire in his eyes dimmed for a second. ‘I ain’t going back to prison.’

  ‘I assume it was you who killed Jenny and the kids?’ said Blizzard.

  ‘I ain’t saying nothing.’

  ‘You don’t need to,’ said Blizzard, keeping an eye on the spade still held above Rowles’ head. ‘Let me tell you what I think happened. I reckon you were supposed to murder Jenny to shut her up and frighten the kids into keeping quiet. But I reckon it got out of hand – Jenny fought back, Chloe started to scream and Pauline escaped. In the end, you had no option, but I do not think Danny Galston ever wanted them dead.’

  ‘Not sure he ever cared that much about them,’ said Rowles, lowering the spade slightly. ‘He was abusing them, what kind of a father does that make him?’

  ‘It’s a good question, Lenny.’

  ‘Anyhow, you can’t prove anything, Blizzard. It’s all guesswork.’

  ‘Oh, but I think we can. There’s enough people prepared to point the finger at you now. And we’ve got you for Barry Lawson’s murder anyway. So, let the sergeant go and we can discuss how this plays out.’

  Rowles considered the comment then lowered the spade and gave a nod. The sergeant scrambled out of the way and joined Blizzard. Rowles looked at them and nodded.

  ‘Wise choice,’ said Blizzard.

  Rowles threw away the spade and dived into a nearby bush before anyone could react, then he crashed through bushes and careered past gravestones in his desperate attempt to reach the main road. Colley and other officers gave chase and the firearms team started running, too. Rowles reached the perimeter hedge a fraction of a second before Colley, turned and gave an enraged bellow and snapped out a fist. Colley jerked backwards, lifted off his feet by the power of the blow, smashing his head against a gravestone as he fell. Rowles took a step forward and aimed a vicious kick at the sergeant’s head. Colley’s last image before he lost consciousness was the big man suddenly stiffening, his face a mask of disbelief as a single retort cut through the stillness of the night. After that, all went black for the sergeant.

  * * *

  When Colley regained consciousness several minutes later, he found himself lying in the grass near the gates, acutely conscious of the smell of damp earth. Opening his eyes, he groaned at the pain from his head then saw Blizzard walking towards him.

  ‘Rowles?’ asked the sergeant, attempting to sit up.

  Blizzard nodded to the big man’s body lying a few metres away, blood seeping from the bullet wound in the centre of his forehead.

  ‘Had to be,’ said Colley quietly. He tried to get to his feet.

  ‘Hey, hey,’ said the chief inspector, gently pushing him back as the sergeant’s world began to swirl. ‘Take it easy, you have taken a nasty knock to the head.’

  Colley lay back down, closing his eyes. After a few seconds, he opened them again: Blizzard was still there.

  ‘Brian Graham?’ asked the sergeant.

  ‘Gave up without a fight. Once a coward, always a coward.’

  ‘And Pauline? Did you find her body?’

  Blizzard nodded sadly and Colley closed his eyes again. The chief inspector turned and stared into the darkness, half expecting to see the strange little girl but there was no one there. The chief inspector knew in that moment that she would never come back. Perhaps his doctor had been right: perhaps it wasn’t about her ghost at all, perhaps it had always been about his own. Now both could be laid to rest. Suddenly, the chief inspector’s back gave a twinge and Blizzard smiled: in a funny way, it was a reassuring sensation.

  * * *

  ‘I can’t go,’ said Georgia Horwood.

  It was shortly after nine that morning and Cara Galston and Gerry Brauner were standing in the departure lounge of Manchester Airport. The three of them had spent several days living as fugitives, moving from guest house to guest house, skulking in the shadows lest either Lenny Rowles or the police come looking for them. After the attack in Cara’s house, they had taken a taxi to pick up Georgia but abandoned their initial plan to fly out the next morning because Gerry Brauner required hospital treatment for his injuries. Deciding not to seek it in Hafton, where too many people knew him and where the police would be looking for them, they travelled to Manchester and now that Brauner was fit enough to travel, they had arrived at the airport, which was when Georgia dropped her bombshell.

  ‘What do you mean you can’t go?’ asked Cara.

  ‘I have to go back to Hafton.’

  ‘Why?’ asked Brauner, dark glasses hiding his bruised eyes.

  ‘You know why.’

  ‘But you’ll be safe once we get out of the country.’

  ‘My mind is made up,’ said Georgia. ‘We started this together and we must end it together. I’m sorry.’

  She turned and walked quickly from the airport. The flight was called and Cara Galston and Gerry Brauner were on their way.

  Chapter thirty-one

  Brian Graham sat silently in the interview room, staring anxiously at Blizzard and Max Randall. Graham’s solicitor sat beside him. It was shortly after 11am and they had been waiting there some time for the detectives to arrive. When they did, the lawyer could contain his irritation no longer.

  ‘Yet again, you have acted in an underhand manner, Chief Inspector,’ he said. ‘My client was tricked.’

  ‘Sometimes the means justifies the end, Mr Ratcliffe. Your client has lied consistently to us and we needed to find a way of getting some semblance of truth out of him.’

  ‘You have nothing on him, Chief Inspector. Nothing at all and the way you have gone about this will be the subject of an official…’

  ‘Let me tell you how this will pan out. A number of your client’s associates in the sex ring have named him as its leader. Their evidence alone will be enough to send him away for a very long time.’

  ‘It’s their word against mine!’ exclaimed Graham.

  ‘Then there is the little matter of discovering you digging up Pauline’s Galston’s body from your wife’s grave.’

  ‘I knew nothing about that!
I was as shocked as you were when we found her.’

  ‘So how do you explain your presence there?’

  ‘Lenny Rowles made me do it.’

  ‘I think not. Sergeant, enlighten our Mr Graham, please.’

  Graham looked anxiously at Randall.

  ‘Early today,’ said the sergeant, ‘forensics officers went to a rented factory unit on Wainscott Lane. It appears to be in your name, Mr Graham.’

  The accountant’s face drained of colour.

  ‘Planning to manufacture widgets, were you?’ asked Blizzard.

  Graham gaped at him, unable to speak.

  ‘Our examination is in its early stages,’ continued Randall, ‘but there is already enough to link it to the abuse of children.’

  ‘I know nothing about that. Nothing at all.’

  ‘Oh, for fuck’s sake!’ exclaimed Blizzard. He banged a fist on the table, startling the others. ‘I am sick of your lies. Start telling us the sodding truth.’

  Graham stared at him, fear in his eyes. The lawyer said nothing, taken aback by the flash of anger, exactly the reaction Blizzard was seeking. The advantage had swung his way and the time had come to ram it home.

  ‘Besides, that is not all,’ said the chief inspector, calming down. ‘Several of the people we arrested yesterday said you ordered Rowles to attack Jenny Galston and the kids. I think something spooked Rowles and he had to flee the house with Pauline. But he couldn’t let her live because she could identify him. Then when you realised we were getting close, you decided to move the body.’

  ‘You cannot prove that,’ blurted out Graham.

  ‘Oh, but I think we can.’

  ‘No,’ said Graham desperately. ‘All this was Lenny’s idea. OK, I admit it, I knew he killed Jenny and the kids but it was nothing to do with me, honest to God.’

  ‘But you do admit to being part of the sex ring?’ said Randall.

  Graham hesitated then glanced at his lawyer, who shrugged, Graham nodded.

  ‘So we are finally getting somewhere,’ said Blizzard. He sat back in satisfaction. ‘And you are telling me it was all Rowles’ fault?’

 

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