DARK HOUSES a gripping detective thriller full of suspense

by Helen H. Durrant

  “Hey, Neville! Naff Neville!”

  He knew that voice. Bloody hell, now he’d get dragged into something and he wouldn’t like it.

  “Hold up, man, where you off?”

  “Nowhere.” He didn’t stop walking. He didn’t even look up. Neville didn’t like Dan Roper. He’d met him at Springbank. Edna hadn’t liked him either. She’d said he was a bully.

  “Liar. You’ve got something on. Come on, Naff. Tell Dan what’s going down.”

  He hated that name: Naff Neville. It’d been his nickname ever since school. Who calls their kid Neville, for fuck’s sake!

  “Springbank House.”

  What was the use? If he didn’t tell the bastard, the name calling would begin in earnest. And that would make him mad.

  “That place’s for losers.” Dan sniggered. “Fancy one of these instead?”

  He held out a small plastic bag of what looked like smarties. “I won’t charge. Come and have some fun.”

  “I know what they are. They’re dangerous. I’m clean now, given it up.”

  “Don’t give me that. You’ll never be clean. You’re an addict. Nothing but a sad little druggie.”

  He was sneering. Neville didn’t like that. Dan wanted to get him high on those pills and make him do things.

  “Come on, let’s give those kids in the park some grief.”

  Dan whacked him on the back of the head.

  “Can’t. You should leave me alone.”

  Dan laughed. “Why, Naff? You dangerous all of a sudden?”

  If only he knew. Neville tried to smile. He was seriously tempted to tell him the truth. That would shut him up. But if he did that, he’d have to do him to keep him quiet.

  “You can spare half an hour,” Dan insisted. “I’ve got pills and beer. Look.” He produced two cans from his coat pocket.

  “I fancy a beer, but I’m not allowed to drink.”

  “You’re not a kid. You’ve a mind of your own. C’mon. Down by the skating rink?”

  “Yeah. Alright.” The beer had swung it.

  They made their way through the park gates, past the play equipment and onto the rink. No longer for roller skaters, it had been converted for skateboards. It was all stainless steel and ramps. Neville stared at it, his mouth open. Why did things have to change all the time?

  “Good, aren’t they?” Dan handed him a can while they watched the young boarders do their stuff.

  “Fancy a go?”

  Stupid question. Neville shook his head and took a hefty swig from the can.

  “Go on. Show ’em what you can do. I dare you. Get it right, and I’ll give you some of these.” He waved the pills.

  He was taking the piss again. Things never changed.

  “I’ve got to go.”

  “We’ve only just got here.”

  Dan shook the bag of pills in front of his face again. “Cheer you up a bit.”

  “What are they?” Neville eyed the pink pills with suspicion. They could be anything. No way was he going to risk it.

  “Legal highs. You need to chill, mate.”

  “I’m off.” He stood up and lobbed the half-full beer can at the kids on the rink. They hurled a torrent of abuse at him as he walked away. Neville covered his ears. He didn’t want to hear. Dan followed. He leapt about behind Neville, shouting, calling him names, teasing him.

  Neville was angry. It always ended this way. He’d been the target of all the morons in town for long enough. These people understood only two things — fear and power. Trouble was, no one was scared of Neville. Well it was time to show them he could fight back. It was time Dan learned who was in charge. Neville fingered the knife in his coat pocket. Why had he brought it? He smiled. The voices had told him to. They’d said it would make him feel better, and they were right.

  Dan was on a roll. He was right at Neville’s back, yelling and swearing. If Neville didn’t do something he’d follow him right up to the doors of Springbank. He’d frighten Edna. Neville had to make him stop. They’d reached a copse of trees at the far end of the park. Neville was out of breath now and had to stop. But he’d worked it out. He knew what he had to do. The voices were back. They were on his side, egging him on to sort Dan for good. He’d spoil his afternoon with Edna and Neville couldn’t have that.

  Neville looked around. There was no one about. He turned slowly. One lunge and it was all over. The noise stopped. The look on Dan’s face was priceless.

  * * *

  “I need to understand how your business works, Mr Harvey.” Greco sat in the estate agent’s office. “Who does the valuations? Who has access? Who shows any interested parties around?”

  They were simple enough questions, surely? So why the blank look? The property business was hardly the secret service. “You sell houses, Mr Harvey. Just tell me how you go about it.”

  “Well . . . it varies.” Harvey was looking horrified. “These murders, surely you don’t think one of my staff is involved? We’re a tight team. I’ve known them all for years. Mrs Hardy on the front desk, for example, she’s been with me for over two decades.”

  So that was it. The man thought Greco was going to point the finger at one of them. “I’m not making any assumptions. Just describe to me how everything works. I want to be able to rule you and your staff out.”

  That seemed to calm him down. “The valuations are done by me, and I take the photos for publicity purposes. Occasionally I might need to hire the expertise of an outside firm. If I needed a surveyor, for example, then it’d be Brogans from the office next door.”

  “And showing potential buyers around?”

  “If the seller is still in residence they will do it. If not, then me.”

  “You’ve recently sold a house on Pierce Street. Talk me through that one.”

  “It was owned by an elderly woman, a Mrs Stevens. She’d reached the stage where she couldn’t cope on her own anymore. The family are keen for a quick sale. They want the money to pay the care home fees.”

  “Who have you shown around the house?”

  “One couple, that’s all. The properties on Pierce Street are in bad shape. Anyone who buys knows they’ll have to put their hand in their pocket to bring it up to standard.” He consulted his computer. “A Mr and Mrs Hope are buying. In fact the sale is almost completed.”

  “Doris Hope?”

  “Yes, and her husband. They plan to do it up and let it.”

  “I know Mrs Hope,” Greco said. He looked at Speedy. “She used to do a little cleaning for me when I had the flat. She told me about the house only this week.” He looked back at Andrew Harvey. “I’ll need to take the keys for a while.”

  “I’m not sure . . .”

  “Speak to the family of the seller and I’ll speak to Mrs Hope. This is a murder investigation. I’m sure they won’t mind. It shouldn’t be for long.”

  Andrew Harvey shook his head and reluctantly handed over the keys. “You’re going to look inside?”

  “We won’t make a mess. Once we’ve done what we have to you’ll never know we were even there,” he said.

  “Has someone got a grudge against my firm?”

  “I doubt it, Mr Harvey. The person we’re interested in requires old houses, preferably with a fireplace that is still capable of having an open fire. You deal mostly with that type of house. It’s as simple as that.”

  They left the estate agent still shaking his head.

  “Where to now, sir?”

  “We’ve got the keys. We’d better go round to Percival Street and hand them over.”

  * * *

  It was a short drive, no more than five minutes. The street was busy. Greco saw the van from the Duggan parked outside number forty-two. Mark Brough stood beside it.

  This was the first time Greco had seen the man when he wasn’t shrouded in a white coverall. He was tall and muscular with short dark hair. Greco put him in his early forties. He seemed friendly enough, and eager to help. They went inside together.

/>   “I think three should do it,” Mark said. “One on the side wall angled at the key safe, another in the kitchen and one in the sitting room. If he comes here, we are bound to get a reasonable image.”

  “And we can view the image from the station, on our computers?” Speedy asked.

  “Yes. I’ve set up a user account in the inspector’s name. Here are the log-in details. The footage will be stored. You can view it any time. If a camera is activated, all three will send an alert in the form of an email to whoever you choose.”

  Greco was impressed. “We’ll make that Georgina. She spends more time at her computer than we do. Thanks.” He smiled.

  “All part of the job.”

  They left the house.

  “Got another one, Inspector?”

  “What are you doing here, Laycock?”

  “I heard a rumour. Word has it that this will be his next venue. That right, Greco?”

  “What word? Who told you?”

  They’d only just found out about this house themselves, so how had Laycock got the information so quickly?

  “What will you do? Leave someone on guard?” Laycock smirked.

  “We’re a little more sophisticated than that,” Greco said.

  “Ah, a camera. I get it. Am I allowed to write about this?”

  Greco turned to Laycock. “Write about this . . . in fact so much as mention what you think you know to anyone, and I’ll have you for obstruction. Do you understand?”

  “My lips are sealed, Inspector,” he said. He was still smiling.

  Chapter 10

  The two detectives took half an hour to grab a bite to eat and a coffee at a café in town. Suzy had told him about it. She had recommended it as very clean.

  Greco was just finishing a beef sandwich when he got the call.

  “A body has been found in Oldston Park. A young man,” DCI Green said. “Stabbed. A woman called it in. She’d been playing with her kids and they stumbled over him. The Duggan are on it.”

  “We’ll get down there, sir. Do we know when it happened?”

  “Within the last hour, according to Dr Barrington. That part of the park has been sealed off and we are appealing for witnesses.”

  Just what he needed. It was different from the murders of the girls. For starters, this one didn’t sound as if it’d been planned.

  “Trouble?” Speedy asked. He was chatting on his phone to Grace.

  “A body in the park. Happened within the past hour.”

  “Did you get that, Grace?”

  “Where are they?” Greco asked.

  Speedy handed Greco his phone.

  “We’re outside the Crown, sir. We’re about to go in and talk to Megan. Do you want us at the park instead?”

  “No, you carry on. Speak to Megan and Frankie Farr, then ring me.”

  There were uniformed officers at the three park entrances. The copse where the body had been found was taped off.

  “Oldston’s getting its fair share of aggro these days, Stephen,” Natasha Barrington said.

  “Aggro we could do without.”

  “On first look he’s been stabbed once in the chest. I’ll know for sure when I get him back, but I’d say the blade pierced the heart.”

  “Nasty.” Speedy looked away.

  “He’s young. Any ID on him?” Greco asked.

  “A doctor’s appointment card, for earlier this morning. His name is Dan Roper, and I found these in his coat pocket.” She held out the packet of pink pills. “We’ll run tests but they look like legal highs to me. Might even be homemade.”

  “If that’s the case they could be the reason he was attacked. Things got out of hand. You can guess the rest,” Speedy said.

  “Anyone volunteered any information?”

  “No, Inspector,” said Roxy Atkins.

  “Have a look around,” Greco told Speedy. “Speak to a few of the older kids. See if he tried to sell them any.”

  “Look at this!” Natasha Barrington parted the hair. “There’s a bloody square of scalp missing— about an inch. You know, like with the girls.” She examined his clothing. “A square of fabric is gone from his T-shirt.”

  “What can this possibly have to do with the girls?” Greco said.

  “It’s connected somehow. The trophy-taking is the same, and that’s too much of a coincidence,” Roxy said. “We’ll keep the scene contained until the photos have been taken. I’ll let you know what we find.”

  “Mark Brough not on this one?” Greco said.

  “No. He drew the short straw last night. It was him that that went out to the houses you rang in,” Natasha told him. “I don’t know how you lot manage, but we need our sleep, Stephen.” She smiled at him.

  * * *

  Speedy walked through the park. The good weather had brought folk out. People had seen the police and were starting to get curious about what had happened. How long before the press put in an appearance?

  A group of young teenagers were hanging out by the skateboard rink, talking to a uniformed officer. Speedy stopped to watch. They were good.

  “Anyone bothered you lads this afternoon?” he shouted to the group. “Anything odd? Arguments, fighting, anything like that?”

  They whispered amongst themselves for a few seconds. Then one of them spoke up. “He’s just asked that.” He nodded at the uniform.

  Then a tall blonde lad boarded towards him. “Some low life threw a can into the rink. He sat on that bench with his mate for a few minutes. He chucked a can of beer our way then made off. His mate chased after him.”

  “Did you recognise him?”

  The lad shook his head.

  “Did he offer you anything? Pills for example?”

  Another emphatic shake.

  “This can he threw, what happened to it?”

  “Doug put it in the bin over there. We couldn’t leave it on the rink.”

  “Which way did they go?”

  “Towards the far entrance, through the wooded part of the park.”

  Speedy donned a pair of nitrile gloves and made for the bin. After spending several minutes up to his elbows in the detritus, he found the can. He went back to the crime scene.

  “Seems he drank from this, then threw at some kids on the skateboarding rink,” he told Roxy. “It should have his prints on it, even DNA.”

  “Well done,” she said.

  Greco was pacing back and forth beyond the taped area, with his head down. Thinking? Speedy couldn’t tell. The link with the girls was puzzling, but with a bit of luck they had something — prints. Greco should look a lot happier than he did. So what was his problem?

  * * *

  Without saying a word, Greco took off. He walked down the shingle path towards the boating lake and ducked behind a group of trees. He’d thought it was her, and it was. She was a couple of hundred yards ahead — laughing. He didn’t understand. She should be at work. He checked his watch. It was lunchtime. Perhaps the bloke with her was a colleague? It was a nice day. Perhaps they were simply having lunch in the park, getting some fresh air before the afternoon grind. But Greco knew that wasn’t it. Moments later his suspicions were confirmed. The man was kissing her. In that instant his world slipped out of control.

  Suzy was having an affair.

  He couldn’t move. He couldn’t feel his feet on the ground. He was having a panic attack. He strained to see, but the man’s back was to him and there were too many people in the way. He couldn’t stay here. They mustn’t see him. He had to move. Taking his phone from his pocket, Greco took a photo of the two of them embracing. Later, when he confronted her, she would be forced to tell him the truth. Tell him who the man was. He needed to hear the truth from her. He turned and walked away.

  “Found something, sir?” Speedy asked.

  Greco shook his head.

  “You’ve gone a funny colour, Stephen,” said Natasha Barrington. “You okay?”

  He nodded. What he had just witnessed had robbed him of speech.
r />   “Photos are done,” she said.

  The body was put into a vehicle and the team from the Duggan got ready to leave. “I’ll do the PM mid-morning tomorrow. We could do with confirming identity. Good call that, your sergeant finding the can.”

  Greco had no idea what she was talking about.

  “By the way, Inspector. I’ve emailed you what I could get from Jenna’s phone,” Roxy shouted before she drove off.

  “Might give us something,” Speedy said, coming up behind him. “Where to now?”

  “We need to find out where he lived, that, that . . .”

  “Dan Roper, sir,” Speedy said.

  “Yes. Him. His family needs to be told.”

  Greco stared into the distance. If Suzy left him again, he’d go to pieces. He’d only just kept it together the last time.

  “The surgery?” Speedy said. “The doctor’s appointment.”

  “Yes, yes of course — good idea.”

  The GP practice was only minutes from the park. They walked in silence. Greco hardly knew what he was doing. He was trying to work it out — and failing. Was this man the reason she was reluctant to get married again? He should have realised what was wrong.

  When they arrived in the reception area he couldn’t even recall what had brought them here.

  They were shown into a small waiting room. The nurse pulled a face when she heard Dan’s name. “I’ll check with Doctor Ali. I don’t want to say anything out of turn.”

  “That means there’s plenty to be said.” Speedy grinned. “He was carrying drugs so he had a problem. They’ll be glad to be rid of him, more than likely.”

  “The lad’s dead, Sergeant,” Greco said, finding his voice at last. “He was a victim, stabbed to death in broad daylight. Have some pity.”

  The doctor entered the room. “Dan Roper. A local troublemaker. He’s been in here this morning, all noise and demands. What’s he done now?”

  “He’s been stabbed. Killed,” Greco said. “In the park, just a few hundred yards away.”

  “Have you got the assailant?”

  “No. We need some details about Dan. We only have his name at the moment.”