by Ann Bloxwich
Neil pressed his finger to his lips, gestured her through to the kitchen and made her a hot drink. He explained how Hope had shown up on his doorstep, and that she seemed to be in shock.
‘I’m not surprised, to be honest. I don’t know what Hope was looking for in her father’s room, but I think she found these,’ Michelle said. She took a packet of photographs out of her bag and slid them across the table towards Neil.
He picked them up, looking puzzled. Each one showed a series of women lying either across a bed or on the floor. They all appeared to be unconscious and their clothes were in disarray, leaving them sexually exposed. Some of the photos were very graphic, and as Neil flicked through them, the look of horror on his face grew and he put them down and fanned his face with his hand.
‘I think I’m going to be sick,’ he croaked. Michelle got him a glass of water and he sipped at it slowly.
‘That’s better, thank you,’ he said weakly. ‘I know that nowadays people take photos of pretty much everything on mobile phones, but why would you do that on a normal camera? I’m surprised that any company would process these though, you think they would have reported them to the police.’
‘Maybe he was shagging the film developer,’ Michelle said. ‘The question is, what do I do about them? The logical thing to do is to go to the police, but I’m more inclined to confront him with them and see what he has to say about them.’
Neil looked scared and gripped Michelle’s hand across the table. ‘Promise me you won’t do that,’ he begged. ‘You don’t know how he will react, and I couldn’t bear it if he were to hurt you.’
‘Don’t worry about me, I’m a big girl and can take care of myself,’ Michelle said. She glanced at her watch and stood up, scooping up the photos and stuffing them back into her bag. ‘Can I leave Hope here with you for now? I’m going to meet some friends for lunch, and I don’t want her going back to the house by herself. I’ll call you later and let you know what I decide to do.’ She kissed Neil on both cheeks and hugged him tightly. ‘Thank you for being so wonderful,’ she said.
‘My pleasure honey, my door is always open to you.’ Neil watched her drive away and wondered whether he should call the police himself. In the end, he decided to give Michelle the benefit of the doubt and headed back to the kitchen to start preparing lunch.
58
Craig leaned against Laura Morrison’s door frame and pressed the bell once more for good measure. He shrugged and wrote a message on the back of a card before dropping it through the letterbox. Jogging back to the car, he climbed in and settled himself against the soft leather.
‘Let’s try Helen Whittaker’s next, then we may as well go to Vicky’s flat,’ he said.
Mo pulled away from the kerb with a roar. Craig grinned at her. ‘Can I drive on the way back?’
Mo raised her eyebrow at him. ‘What do you think?’ she said as she drove smoothly through the city centre. It was busy at this time of day, but Mo’s car was powerful enough to slip in and out of the tightest gaps with ease. Before too long they were in Bilston, Helen’s address being easy to find due to it being around the corner from the famous Robin 2 Club.
‘If you’ve never been there, you’re missing out,’ Craig said as they drove past. ‘They have some cracking musicians, famous ones as well as tribute ones. Many bands got started there.’
‘Sounds good, I’ll check it out,’ Mo said.
She pulled up outside Helen’s house, which stood in the middle of a row of terraced houses. ‘No car in the driveway,’ she commented.
‘Maybe she doesn’t have one,’ Craig replied as he climbed out of the passenger seat and shut the door with a solid thunk. It would have been easy to miss the upstairs curtains moving very slightly, but Mo had spotted it. She shared the observation with Craig, and he responded with a slight nod.
After knocking a couple of times, the next-door neighbour came out. She was a short skinny woman, with very short grey hair, a leathery face, and blue veiny legs that looked like a road map. She wore a floral apron over her faded orange dress, blue slippers and had a dustpan and brush in her hand. ‘Who am yow after then?’ she said in a broad Black Country accent. Craig showed her his ID and explained they were looking for Helen.
‘Her ay in, is her?’ the woman said, looking at them both, her curranty eyes full of suspicion. When she pursed her lips, she looked like she was gurning.
‘What did she say?’ Mo whispered.
‘She said that Helen’s not in. It’s the accent, you do learn to tune into it after a while,’ Craig muttered back.
The woman was still standing on her doorstep, waiting for them to say something. Craig just smiled, wrote a note on the back of a card and went to put it through the letterbox.
‘What yow doing that fer? Helen ay there, but her mate is. Noisy cow she is an’ all. Playing bleeding Abba all night, drives me saft it does. I’ll be glad when her buggers off home.’
Mo looked at Craig, who suddenly looked very interested in the old lady. ‘Really? What does Helen’s mate look like?’
The old woman pursed her lips again. ‘Ginger hair, big tits and a fat arse. Pretty wench though, got a crackin’ smile.’
Craig pulled his phone out and showed the woman a photo. ‘Is this her?’
‘Ar, that’s her. What’s her done? Has her bin on the rob, or is her a druggie? She looks like a druggie with all that bling.’
‘No, she’s not a druggie,’ Mo said. ‘Thank you for your help, Mrs . . .’
‘Chanter. Ivy Chanter. So her’s a prozzie then, is her? Is there a reward? For information, like?’ The woman looked hopeful, but Craig shook his head.
‘No, we’re just making some enquiries, Mrs Chanter. You’ve been a big help though, thank you.’ Craig walked towards the car, his phone pressed to his ear.
‘Bleeding charmin’, that’s what yow get when yow ‘elp the police – sod all!’ Mrs Chanter went back inside and slammed the door.
Mo looked up at the windows again, but the curtains stayed still.
59
Gary and Dawn drove back to Wolverhampton in silence, both frustrated at the lack of progress they had made. Mrs Bakshi had been no help at all, first insisting that her son was a good boy and would never hurt anyone. Then she swore at them, calling them pigs and finally she pleaded with them not to take him away from her, and it had taken them a while to explain that they just wanted to talk to him. Eventually, she had suggested they go and see his boss; she sometimes gave him extra work if there was any available.
‘God, my face hurts,’ Dawn said.
‘It’s hurting you? It’s killing me,’ Gary laughed, earning him a thump in the ribs.
Gary drove through the city and parked at Piper’s Row, near to the newly refurbished bus station. Once a hang-out for drunks and junkies, it was now very smart and modern. A couple of new restaurants had opened nearby, meaning that the area was almost always busy. The rain had stopped but the pot-holes were still full of water, as Gary found when he stepped in one and the water went over the top of his shoes. Dawn laughed and winced at the same time. ‘Serves you right,’ she grinned.
Dawn pointed across the street to Mac’s Bar. The basement doors were propped open and the dray lorry was being unloaded by a familiar figure.
‘There he is, let’s go and speak to him,’ she said. ‘Don’t mention Elizabeth is dead, let’s see what he has to say first.’
Arjan looked up as the two approached. For a split second, panic spilled across his face, quickly replaced with a look of resignation. He signed the dray man’s paperwork and closed the basement doors with a loud clang.
‘You’re a hard man to track down,’ Dawn said.
‘I’ve been keeping my head down because Elizabeth’s parents have been badgering me,’ he replied. He pulled an old bar towel from his apron pocket and wiped the sweat off his face. ‘I keep telling them I don’t know where she is. She went on that holiday we
were meant to share, so she should have been back a few days ago. They ring me every damned day – speak of the devil!’ he said as his phone went off.
He pulled it out of his shirt pocket and turned it off. ‘There, now maybe they will get the message.’
‘We have a lot to discuss with you, like why you failed to mention that your girlfriend was Vicky Wilson’s double,’ Gary added.
‘Was she? Yeah, I suppose they do look a bit alike. I never really thought about it.’
‘You didn’t really think at all, did you?’ Dawn said, letting him know that she was not impressed. ‘We’ve been running around like blue-arsed flies and all this time . . .’
‘Let’s just get back to the station so you can fill in the gaps for us,’ Gary interrupted. He could see that Dawn was about to blow her top. ‘Then you can tell us everything from the very beginning.’
***
Arjan Bakshi had gone to pieces when they broke the news to him about his girlfriend.
‘Well, that didn’t go as planned,’ Gary said afterwards. ‘He seemed genuinely heartbroken.’
‘I agree, but I don’t buy that he didn’t know his girlfriend was at the club that night, unless she did a great job of avoiding him.’
‘I suppose she would if they’d had a bust-up,’ Gary added as they headed back to the office. ‘Maybe an argument broke out and he killed her, but I don’t think he did.’
‘What makes you so sure?’ Dawn asked.
‘What makes who so sure?’ Alex asked as he caught them up on the stairs.
‘Gary thinks that Mr Bakshi is innocent, he was about to tell me why,’ Dawn told him.
‘Well, let’s get everyone together and you can enlighten us all,’ Alex said as he pushed the office door open.
‘I reckon that Arjan Bakshi being at the club was either a coincidence or he was set up,’ Gary began once the team were assembled. ‘He said that he was called in at the last minute, so he wouldn’t have known his girlfriend was there because he thought she was on holiday. The staff said he never left his post at the stage door at all, apart from a quick smoke break. He didn’t have enough time to cause so many injuries, plus he would have been covered in blood.’
‘Good point,’ Alex said. ‘What makes you think he was set up?’
‘Maybe whoever killed her found out that Arjan was her boyfriend so decided to frame him.’
‘Well, he’s a hefty bloke, I bet he’s handy with his fists. It would be easy for us to assume that he’d seen her, and they’d argued again,’ Les admitted.
‘Vicky’s skin was found under Elizabeth’s fingernails, so we know they came to blows at some point. Perhaps Vicky was jealous because Elizabeth had the same hairstyle, I’ve known women fall out over less,’ Gary suggested.
‘We know that Helen Whittaker’s involved in this too, so maybe she broke up a fight between the two of them,’ Dawn said. ‘The fact that Vicky has let everyone, including her own parents, think that she’s dead is beyond me. Once Helen gets home, both she and Vicky will be brought in for questioning, so hopefully we’ll find out just what the hell is going on.’
‘I do have one theory as to why the two women might have had a fight,’ Gary said. ‘Maybe they were both knocking off Ray Diamond.’
Alex nodded, deep in thought. ‘Faz did find semen present, so let’s get DNA samples from both Mr Bakshi and Mr Diamond so we can find out if it belongs to one of them.’
60
Alex ploughed his way through a bacon roll in his office while he prepared some notes. Laura Morrison had been puzzled as to why Alex had insisted that she accompany him to the station immediately, but after he’d assured her that all her loved ones were fine, she’d grabbed her things and gone with him. Alex had half-watched her as he drove back, not sure if her innocent expression was genuine, or she was just a great actress. He’d know soon enough, but first he was going to tackle Helen Whittaker.
‘Mo,’ he called as he went into the main office. ‘You’re with me. We’ll be interviewing each woman in turn. The rest of you, sort out warrants and execute searches on Helen’s house and Vicky’s flat. Do Laura Morrison’s house too, just in case. Uniform have said we can have six officers, so make good use of them. These women have messed us around long enough, let’s take the gloves off now.’
He left the office and strode towards the interview rooms with Mo hurrying along behind him.
Helen Whittaker sat with one foot propped up on her knee, idly picking at one of the rips in her jeans. She wore an oversized blue shirt and white trainers, and her hair was brushed back off her face. She looked up but said nothing when Alex and Mo walked in.
This wasn’t a cosy room like the last time, it was basic, with thinly cushioned metal chairs bolted to the floor and a scuffed table. The walls were painted in a shade that could only have come from mixing grey and beige together, and the only – reinforced – window was high up near the ceiling and didn’t open. She remained silent but never took her eyes off Alex as he set up the recording equipment. She seemed surprised when Mo took the lead on the interview.
‘Miss Whittaker, why didn’t you inform us that Vicky Wilson was alive and well?’
Helen shrugged. ‘I didn’t see the point.’
‘I see. Did you not think about what her parents were going through?’
‘Not really. Her mum’s got no backbone, she’s never protected Vicky from that pig of a husband. He beats her up, you know. He used to hit Vicky too, till she hit him back. That’s why he doesn’t speak to her now, he’s pretty much disowned her. Vicky’s gran knew what it was like, she knew her daughter would never stand up to that bully, but she hoped that by leaving Vicky everything she owned, Vicky would walk away and maybe persuade her mum to go too. Mrs Wilson is nice but she’s weak and wouldn’t leave, choosing to stay and put up with his bullying. As far as I’m concerned, she’s made her bed, so she can lie in it.’
‘When did you know that Vicky was alive?’ Mo asked.
‘I’ve always known. I caught her scrapping with that other woman in the toilets, so I slapped them both, dragged Vicky outside and phoned for a taxi. When it arrived, I gave her my keys and told her to go to my place and stay put until I got home. I took her phone off her too, so she couldn’t ring that dickhead. She left her handbag in the taxi, and they rang me about it because I’d booked it for her, so I collected it the next day, took it out to the woods near Ray’s house and dumped it. I threw her phone as hard as I could into the undergrowth. I hoped that if you lot found it you’d think he was guilty.’
‘So, when we called you both in and told you that she was dead, rather than come clean you kept up the pretence, even though you knew it was in your best interest to be honest with us? What kind of friend does that?’
Helen shot forward in her seat, her face red with anger. ‘A fucking good one, that’s who. I told her more than once that getting mixed up with that prick would end in tears, but would she listen? Would she fuck. When she overheard that other woman bragging that she was seeing Ray, she lost it and went for her. If I hadn’t walked in when I did it would have got really bad.’
Alex finally lost his temper and slammed his fist on the table. ‘It did get really bad, Elizabeth Callendar ended up dead. I don’t care what your reasons were, you and Vicky are complicit in Miss Callendar’s murder as far as I’m concerned.’
‘If you lot had done your jobs properly and locked him up years ago, he wouldn’t even be around. So, if you want to blame anyone, maybe you need to look in the mirror,’ Helen spat back.
Alex looked stunned. ‘What are you talking about?’
Helen’s mouth dropped open. ‘You don’t know, do you?’
‘Know what? Are you saying that Ray Diamond got away with a crime before?’
‘That’s exactly what I’m saying. Only he wasn’t called Ray Diamond then, he was known as Keith Raymond.’
Alex closed his eyes in disbelief. He knew
Ray had seemed familiar to him, and now he knew why.
Helen watched his reaction. ‘Now you know what I’m on about, don’t you?’
‘Interview suspended at 11 a.m. Wait here, I’ll be back in ten minutes,’ Alex told Mo as he left the room.
When he came back in, Alex was holding a thick folder. He placed it on the table, restarted the tape and turned to Mo.
‘It was the first major case I worked on,’ Alex began. ‘Fifteen years ago, we picked up Keith Raymond on suspicion of a brutal rape in the ladies’ toilets at Wolverhampton train station. He had short black hair back then, which is why I didn’t recognise him. The victim was a young woman, who had been savagely beaten, raped and left for dead. The victim positively identified him, but he had a watertight alibi, so the case fell apart. The woman suffered severe facial injuries as you can see from the photos,’ Alex said, opening the folder and showing Mo the photographs.
‘What happened to her?’ Mo asked as she flicked through the folder.
‘She tried to commit suicide,’ Helen said. ‘I know this because she is my Mum. I was only four at the time, and I had to go and live with my nan for a few months while she recovered. Nan paid for her to have plastic surgery, but she still suffered from depression for a long time. It didn’t help that I didn’t recognise her after her surgery either.’
‘How is your mum now?’ Mo asked.
‘She’s fine now. I think that in the end, changing her face helped her to cope. She knew he would never recognise her if he saw her again, so in a way it was like wearing a mask.’
‘How did you end up in a club with the man who ruined your mother’s life? That can’t have been a coincidence,’ Alex said.
Helen gave a small laugh. ‘Actually, it was,’ she said. ‘He had a different name for one thing, and he’d changed the way he looked. The only reason I knew it was him is because Vicky told me she had seen an old passport in his bedroom with the name Keith Raymond on it. He doesn’t know she saw it because she was poking around while he was in the shower. I was nearly sick when she told me. I know she was upset when I went mad at her for seeing him, but she didn’t know the reason why I hate him so much.’