Dead Jealous

by Helen H. Durrant

  Ruth shook her head. “I’d be like a fish out of water.”

  “Do you want to take some time off?”

  “No, I’ve finished with Dolly. If it means anything, I don’t think she killed Hopwood. She doesn’t have it in her. But she did tell me that it was Hopwood who hurt Annie Chadwick’s hand. He deliberately burnt it, Tom. The vile beast!”

  “I wonder how many more like her will come forward, now he’s gone.”

  Ruth nodded. “We should speak to Annie. At least get a statement from her.”

  Calladine looked thoughtful. “It does give the Chadwicks a motive.”

  “A chat first, and we’ll go from there,” Ruth told him. “I can’t see either of the Chadwicks being capable of killing anyone, even Hopwood. I’ve left Dolly in the interview room. I’ve no idea what to do with her. In the meantime, I thought I’d take a uniform and go and speak to Ricky. Get some fresh air.”

  “Take Rocco instead,” Calladine told her. “Natasha is doing the PM on Hopwood this afternoon, about two. Take your time. I’ll go to the Duggan with Nigel.”

  * * *

  Ricky Hopwood greeted them with a scowl. “Found out who killed Sean yet?”

  Ruth didn’t smile. “We’re working on it. But this isn’t to do with your brother. We’d like a word with you about Flora.”

  He led the way into the sitting room, which had documents and photos spread over every surface, including the floor.

  Ruth picked one up. “Family?”

  “Some of them are me when I was a kid, the others — no idea. They could be anyone for all I know.”

  Ruth picked up an old colour photo. She showed it to him. “The boy in this looks like Sean. The older couple could be your grandparents.”

  Ricky shrugged. “Could be. I never met them. My parents were dead by the time I was three, my grandparents too. It was Sean who raised me. He left me this lot, so he must have thought they were important. Can’t think why. He never talked about our family.”

  Ruth felt sorry for the young man. Sean Hopwood wasn’t fit to keep a dog, never mind raise a small boy. “He must have wanted you to know about your past, Ricky.” She cast an eye over the dozens of pictures laid out on the dining room table. Many showed Ricky as a child. One in particular caught her eye. It had been taken in someone’s sitting room. It must have been Christmas because there was a decorated tree in the corner of the room. Sean had hold of Ricky’s hand and was holding another small child in his arms. There was a young woman sitting in a chair to the side. “Are these family too?” she asked Ricky.

  “No idea. Looks like the flat we had on the Hobfield when I was growing up, but I hardly remember it. That was before Sean made any real money.”

  Ruth stared at the photo. It had caught her attention because the young woman looked like Josie Wilkins. If that was the case, then the child Sean was holding could be Jessica. “Can I borrow this?” she asked Ricky. It might be possible to get the photo blown up and see more detail.

  “Take what you want. None of it is any use to me. Except those,” he nodded to a pile of old documents. “Deeds to the houses Sean owned. Seems my brother was a canny old sod. He had quite a property portfolio. He owned nine houses in Leesworth, all paid for and all currently rented out.”

  “And you had no idea?”

  Ricky ran a hand over his head. “He kept me well in the dark.” He looked at Ruth. “It’s all legit, so no harm in telling you, there’s money I never knew about too. At least the bastard had the sense to put the account in both our names. Means I can get my hands on it, no bother. Now that my brother’s gone, it looks like I’m rich.”

  “I’m pleased for you, Ricky.” Ruth smiled. It was just a pity he had no one to share it with. This made her remember the reason for their visit. “You were seeing Flora Appleton, I’ve been told. Were you close?”

  “Not really. She was a bit full-on for my liking. Sean had me working all hours too, so it was difficult. Flora wanted me to take her places, and I wasn’t always free. She’d get angry, start mouthing off. In the end I had to finish it. It made life with Sean simpler anyway.”

  “A shame though, having to ditch your girlfriend because of the job. Couldn’t you make Sean see sense?”

  “To be honest, I wasn’t that bothered. Flora could be a pain sometimes.”

  “Did you and Sean fight much?” Rocco asked.

  “Not at all.” Ricky said this without much conviction. “He had a temper on him, but it usually came to nowt. He’d rant and rave a bit, have a couple of drinks and sleep it off.”

  Rocco nodded at the bruise. “That’s a nasty bruise on your cheek. Sean give you that?”

  “No! I bumped into a door.”

  Ruth gave him a sympathetic look. Loyal even after he was gone. She wondered how many times Sean had given the lad a beating. When you got right down to it, Ricky was no better off than all the rest. He suffered from Sean’s temper like the others did.

  “Handy with his fists and kept you short. Some big brother Sean was. That must have got you down, Ricky?”

  Ricky looked at the floor. “Sean was okay,” he mumbled. “You don’t know owt about him, or our lives.”

  “You finished with Flora before the festival you’d booked for the pair of you?” Rocco asked.

  He nodded. “Cost a bloody bomb too, that did. Something else I could barely afford. I told her Friday morning I couldn’t make it. Trouble was, Flora wasn’t having any. She kept on at me to go with her. She never stopped texting me all day. In the end, I had to turn off my phone and keep out of her way.”

  “Did you see Flora that Friday?” said Rocco.

  “Not after the morning. I told her I wasn’t going to the festival. I was working for the rest of the day, then like I said, I went into hiding.”

  Rocco looked at him. “Where did you go, Ricky?”

  “I went down Manchester, to a restaurant a mate works in. I had something to eat, then sat at the bar for most of the night.” He scribbled down a name and address. “He’ll vouch for me.”

  “Did you see or hear from Flora after Friday?”

  Ricky shook his head.

  Ruth and Rocco turned to leave. At the door, Ruth stopped and looked back at him. “You’re a landlord now,” she smiled. “A word of advice, don’t get heavy with the tenants. You don’t want a reputation like your brother’s.”

  His reply surprised them both. “I’m getting shot of the lot of them. This house too. I’m planning on moving away, make a fresh start.”

  They made their way back to the car. “Speaking of houses, has Nigel found out who owned the one on Beardsell Terrace yet?” Rocco asked.

  “I’ll ask him when we get back. I can’t think what’s taking him so long. It should be a simple enough job.”

  Ruth put the picture carefully in her bag. “The photo is interesting. It could point to a link between Sean Hopwood and Josie Wilkins that we didn’t know about.”

  Chapter 23

  “The stab wound is deep,” Natasha Barrington said.

  Calladine watched Natasha take a ruler to the wound in Sean Hopwood’s back.

  “It seems to come from below. I’ll know more when I open him up.”

  Nigel Hallam coughed and turned his head away. “Gruesome, isn’t it, sir?”

  Calladine ignored him. “Might mean the killer was smaller than Hopwood. He was a tall bloke.”

  Natasha looked up from the body. “Knifed in the back, as I suspected. The blade was long and it pierced the lung. Not content with that, with the knife still deep inside, the killer dragged it horizontally through the chest. It tore into the aorta and the pulmonary artery. He’d have bled out in seconds.”

  Calladine was thoughtful. “It suggests that whoever killed Hopwood really hated the man. The wound alone was enough to kill him, wasn’t it? Someone wanted to make absolutely sure, so they shoved him off the deck for good measure.”

  Natasha Barrington nodded. “He’d have been dead bef
ore he hit the ground. He has multiple broken bones. The X-rays will tell me more. It’ll be in the report.” She continued to examine the wound in Hopwood’s chest. “There is something a little odd here. The wound has a serrated edge on one side. But what’s even more interesting, there are traces of what appears to be bread embedded in the flesh. I’ll make sure a swab goes off to forensics as soon as.”

  Calladine was puzzled. “Bread? That’s a weird one. How come?”

  “Think about it,” Nigel interrupted. “It was early, breakfast time. It looks like your victim was attacked with a bread knife that had just been used to cut up a loaf. Perhaps our killer was about to make some toast. There must have been force behind it because it went in deep.”

  Flora’s wounds were consistent with the use of a steak knife. So were the killings linked, or had the killer simply used a different weapon?

  Calladine looked at him. “You’re saying a spur of the moment thing? Hopwood makes a call, gets a bit rough. The killer’s fixing breakfast, speaks to him, knife in hand. Hopwood says the wrong thing and bang! He gets it.”

  Nigel took up the thread. “He was stabbed in the back, remember. So the killer took a moment, waited until Hopwood had turned round before striking.”

  “His heart was in a bad way.” Natasha looked up at them, holding the organ cupped in her hands. “Heart failure. See how enlarged it is. Without careful monitoring and medication, I’d say his days were numbered anyway.”

  Nigel shrugged. “Didn’t stop him terrorising folk though, did it, sir?”

  * * *

  The team were assembled in the incident room. Calladine stood by the board, holding a report. “We’ve had some of the forensics back from the Flora Appleton case. Nothing useful under her fingernails, which is a shame. But she had clouted someone with enough force to bruise her knuckles. Any ideas?”

  “Kyle Logan has a black eye,” Ruth said.

  “Bernie Logan was beaten up. Who knows what bruises he already had before that happened,” Hallam added.

  “Anyone else?”

  Rocco folded his arms. “Ricky Hopwood is sporting a bruised cheek. He swears he bumped into something. When I suggested that Sean might have lamped him one, he denied it.”

  Ruth added, “Sean was a bully. I’m sure he did lash out at his brother, but Ricky is embarrassed about it. Ricky isn’t like Sean, he has a sensitive side. I bet he felt Sean’s fist many times, but he won’t admit it. It’s his way of protecting his brother. Apart from which, he has given us an alibi for Friday night.”

  Calladine nodded. “Check that out as soon as. By the way, Flora’s leather jacket had traces of heroin in one of the pockets.”

  “The girl was on drugs?” Ruth looked surprised.

  “Or she could have been dealing,” Rocco suggested. “A run-in with a rival dealer. Could that be the reason why she was killed?”

  “The more we delve into this case, the more mysteries we uncover. I want those kids spoken to again. Ask them about the drugs. Isla Prentice might talk to us. She isn’t one of the gang. Plus, we still don’t have a proper reason why she left the scene when they found the body.” Calladine looked round at them. “Any suspects for the Hopwood killing?”

  “Bernie Logan is the obvious one,” Rocco said.

  “Not Dolly, despite what she told me,” said Ruth. “I don’t think she has it in her. Anyway, she’s grieving for Flora. We now know that a number of people from the Hobfield, including Dolly, met on Tuesday morning to discuss getting rid of Hopwood. That means we have to consider them.”

  Calladine looked at her. “They all had their problems with Hopwood. Talking is one thing, but like you said, can you really see the likes of Dolly or Frank Chadwick killing anyone?”

  Ruth pursed her lips. “There were others, including the Logans.”

  “Speak to them all, Rocco. Get cast-iron alibis for where they were after that meeting.”

  Ruth looked at her boss. “I’d like to speak to the Chadwicks myself. What have you done with Dolly?”

  “I sent her home,” he replied. “She’s hardly going to do a runner, is she?”

  “Logan’s alibi is his son, and Kyle’s is his dad. But thanks to Dolly we now know that Bernie Logan was at the meeting, plotting to kill Hopwood. Perhaps that’s exactly what he did,” Ruth suggested. “He is the only one with form, and he has felt Hopwood’s fist of late.”

  “Ricky?” Nigel suggested, and looked at Rocco.

  Ruth shook her head. “We went round that morning. Ricky was just out of bed, fresh from the shower in fact. Anyway, why would he kill his brother? He relied on him for everything. We spoke to him earlier, and the lad is lost. Say’s he is moving away, selling everything, including their house, and leaving Leesworth far behind.”

  Calladine looked round at the team. “Anyone else?”

  Ruth sighed. “The more we look, the longer the list becomes. Hopwood hurt people. Take Annie Chadwick, for example. I have been told that when the Chadwicks said they couldn’t pay, Hopwood deliberately burnt Annie’s hand. I’ve seen it, it’s a nasty wound. We don’t know how many more folk there are out there that Hopwood hurt.”

  “So why didn’t the Chadwicks speak out?” Calladine couldn’t understand why these people put up with so much, why they kept quiet.

  “They were frightened, like most of the people Hopwood dealt with. I intend to talk to them both as soon as.”

  “Hopwood was killed with what appears to be a bread knife,” said Calladine. “Tests are being done, but they’ve found something that looks like breadcrumbs in the wound. That suggests someone in that block. Breakfast is on the go, Hopwood comes calling, says the wrong thing and the killer loses it.”

  “That takes us back to Bernie Logan,” Rocco said.

  “Nigel, have you found out who lived at the house on Beardsell Terrace yet?” Calladine couldn’t understand the reason for the delay. Surely it was a simple enough task?

  “No. Sorry, sir. It would seem that the house was rented out, and the list of tenants only goes back five years. Prior to that a letting agency dealt with it, but they’ve since gone out of business.”

  Calladine sighed with frustration. “Get onto the Land Registry. They will tell you who the actual owner was.”

  “I did ask that, sir. However, they say there is a missing conveyancing document. They are looking, but don’t hold out much hope.”

  “Get onto them again. Tell them this is a murder enquiry. I want that information on my desk by the end of the day.” Calladine turned to the others. “First, we speak to those kids again. Did they know anything about the drugs Flora was carrying? Was she a dealer or a user?”

  “If she dealt a little, that could be the reason why they held back,” Ruth said.

  “Rocco and Nigel, go and round them up. Ruth and I will have another word with Isla Prentice.”

  Chapter 24

  “What haven’t those kids told us about Friday night, Ruth? We’re missing several pieces of this jigsaw. How and why they met up. When and where they bumped into Kyle, and why Isla disappeared before the police arrived. What was she scared of?”

  Calladine and Ruth were waiting in the car outside the Prentice house.

  Ruth shrugged. “That could be down to the drugs. If Flora did do a bit of dealing, then Isla and the others would know. Perhaps they were hoping to buy from her. They’re hardly going to tell us that, are they?”

  “Whoever killed Flora was a novice. The fighting, multiple stab wounds and stuffing her in the boot of the car like that, it all smacks of panic, of not having thought things through.”

  Ruth nodded. “Just like with Hopwood. Stabbed and lobbed over the deck. But unlike Flora’s case, his body was left for anyone to find. Whoever killed him wasn’t shy about folk finding out.”

  “Definitely two different killers,” said Calladine.

  Ruth smiled. “Thought that from the start.”

  He gave Ruth the news. “Nigel Hallam is leaving u
s. Birch told me. He’s finding us heavy going, can’t settle. What do you think?”

  “The sensible part of me says he hasn’t given it long enough. But he isn’t fitting in. He’s the odd one out, and I don’t know why.”

  “We’re getting someone else any time now. Some go-getting female graduate with too much ambition.”

  Ruth grinned. “That’ll please Birch. Got a name?”

  “No. We’ll find out soon enough, I suppose.”

  * * *

  Isla’s mum seemed surprised to see them again. She scowled. “I thought Isla told you everything the other day. I don’t know what more she can say. We’re trying to forget the whole sorry incident.”

  Calladine smiled at her. “Just a few things to clear up. We won’t keep you long.”

  She grudgingly invited them in, and called up the stairs to Isla.

  Isla’s tone was sullen. “What now?” She obviously had her guard up. She sat as far away from them as she could, and kept checking her phone.

  “You going out, Isla?” Ruth asked.

  Isla shrugged. “Waiting for a text. Might meet the lads down the park.”

  “Would that be Kyle and the others?”

  Isla nodded.

  Joan Prentice had gone into the kitchen. Ruth used the opportunity to ask the trickier questions Isla might not want her mother to hear.

  “Did Flora sell drugs?” she asked quietly.

  “No!” Isla’s face turned red. “What makes you think that?”

  “Okay, not sell, but did she use drugs, buy stuff off the lads maybe?”

  Isla stared at the phone in her hands. Eventually she said, “I’m not sure. She got into trouble once, along with Kyle. We all did. Kyle had some blow and we got stopped by a copper on the estate. He dragged us all down the station. We got let off though, and it had nothing to do with me.”

  “I asked about Flora because we found traces in her pocket.” Ruth said.

  Isla shrugged. “She might have got something from Kyle. He knows people who sell all sorts. Sometimes he has a little to share around.”

  “Why did you all meet up last Friday night?” Calladine asked her.