Dead Guilty

by Helen H. Durrant

  Alder looked up. “I met Giles about a year ago at the country club I go to. He’s a useful man to know. He’s very experienced in the import and export field.”

  Alice nodded. “We saw the lorries outside. Your brother, Billy, worked as transport manager?”

  “He’s my brother, I can’t not employ him.” He raised an eyebrow at her. “Not that he was up to much. Took too much time off.” Alder looked at Calladine and his expression hardened. “I heard that he’s with Annie. Is that true?”

  “Yes, they’re together.”

  “Is he why she left me? Does she love him?”

  “I’ve no idea, but they seemed close.”

  “I don’t know why she told you all that rubbish about me, but I bet it has a lot to do with Billy. I intend to get my daughter back. If Annie wants to come home, I won’t say no. When you find her, tell her that I want them back, both of them.”

  Calladine was about to reply when his mobile rang. It was Ruth. He excused himself and went out into the corridor.

  “I’ve got something interesting for you,” she began. “We have a photo from the firm in Sheffield who employed Giles Pennington. I’ve texted you. Take a look.”

  Calladine accessed the text. The image he was looking at was not the man Alder had befriended.

  Chapter 33

  Calladine passed the phone to Alice to take a look. “Thank you for your time, Mr Alder. We may have more questions at a later date.” He stood in the doorway. “We’ll have a word with Mr Pennington before we leave.”

  “Please find them,” Alder implored. “Like I said, I want Sophie back. I’m her father and have every right. Tell Annie I forgive her and to just come home.”

  Outside in the corridor, Alice handed the phone back to Calladine. “What’s going on? Alder is upset, he didn’t put that on. That was a genuine show of emotion in there. The man is cut to shreds about Annie and what she’s done to him. Even so, he still wants her back! What d’you think, sir?”

  “I don’t know, but I’ll find out. Someone’s doing a good job at pulling the wool over our eyes. At the moment I can’t work it out. But Annie and Billy ran for a reason. That much is certain.”

  They found ‘Pennington’ sitting on a sofa in a corner of reception.

  “If the man sat there isn’t Pennington, then who is he?” Alice whispered as they approached.

  “Let’s find out. I’ll have a word first, get the measure of the man. Meanwhile, can you radio the station for backup. We might need to take Pennington — or whoever he is — in, and he could put up a fight.”

  Calladine sat down opposite Pennington. He looked nervous. His eyes watched Alice as she made the call outside.

  “So how can I help?” he asked amiably.

  “You can tell me who you really are for starters,” Calladine began. “Because we know you’re not Giles Pennington.”

  The man heaved a deep sigh and sat back on the sofa. “Okay, you’ve found me out. Big deal.”

  “It might be,” Calladine said. “We have a few questions to ask you regarding the deaths of Sean Barber and Frankie Halliwell.”

  “That’s a hell of a leap, Inspector! I’m living under an assumed identity, therefore I’m a killer! Not me, no way!” His face had turned a shade of purple. “I didn’t kill anyone. You’ve got this all wrong.”

  “We’ll be the judge of that. Meanwhile, do you mind telling me who you really are?”

  “And if I refuse to say?”

  “Then I’ll arrest you, because you’ve obviously got something to hide.” Calladine smiled. “You can speak to me here or down at the station. Your choice.”

  “Okay, I’ll come with you. But I want my solicitor present, and it’s on the understanding that you don’t alert Alder or anyone else round here. Once we’ve got this little mess sorted, I still have to live here.”

  “We can’t promise anything. You’re not local, anyway — don’t you live Bolton way?”

  “I’m planning a move to a house in Hopecross.” Pennington picked up his coat and accompanied Calladine across the car park to the waiting police car. The inspector glanced up at the office block. Richard Alder was watching them.

  * * *

  “Look, nothing but a small plaster,” Ruth held up her injured hand. “I can drive now.”

  Calladine smiled. “Good. What’s the latest on Annie and Billy?”

  “They’ve been sighted all over the country. But the Carmarthen one is by far the most promising.”

  Pity. Calladine didn’t fancy chasing off down there. “We’ve brought Pennington in. He’s being processed now. Any idea who he is?”

  “I have a theory, but we’ll need his fingerprint results to prove it.”

  “You’re thinking Conrad Stokes?”

  Ruth nodded.

  “Me too, although we haven’t had that conversation yet. Stokes was an infamous Glasgow villain, or he was two decades ago. He went down for several offences, not least grievous bodily harm.”

  “Doesn’t look the type, does he?” Alice said. “He was no trouble coming in. Just sat in the back of the car, quiet as you please.”

  “Don’t be taken in,” Calladine warned. “If that man is Stokes, then he’s dangerous.”

  “We need more against Stokes than some prints on a plastic bag,” Ruth reminded him. “Forensics found nothing on the blade, and that registration document doesn’t prove anything.”

  “I’ll have another word with Andrew Harvey first, see if he recognises Pennington’s photo.”

  Calladine went to speak to Birch in her office. “It turns out Giles Pennington isn’t who he says he is, ma’am. His fingerprints should reveal who he really is, but I suspect he’ll turn out to be Stokes.”

  “Even if he does, we don’t have enough evidence against him,” she said. “Nothing concrete that links him to the killings. What about Richard Alder?”

  “I still can’t make my mind up about him. My instincts tell me he’s okay. What you see is what you get. He wants his daughter back, he’s angry with his wife, but he insists that he didn’t threaten anyone. He was astonished when I told him that Annie was afraid of him.”

  Birch looked at him. “Annie Alder tried very hard to convince you otherwise. Who do you believe? A frightened woman who hightailed it off to some remote part of Wales for safety, or her husband, who’s lost his child, his wife to his brother, and therefore his self-respect?”

  “I don’t know who to believe, ma’am. But Alder does want his child back and that’s only natural.”

  “There is a lot about this case we still don’t understand. Rule Pennington in or out, then find Annie and Billy and bring them in. If, as you say, your instinct falls in favour of the husband, why are they running? Is it because they’re afraid or something else?”

  * * *

  “Can I go home now?” Andrew Harvey asked Calladine the minute he set foot in the interview room. “My mum’s not much cop, but even she’ll be worried sick by now.”

  “She’s been told,” Calladine nodded. “She’s not happy, but understands the score.”

  “What now? I’ve told you everything I know.”

  “Not quite. Do you know this man?” He placed a photo of Giles Pennington on the table.

  “No. Who is he?”

  “Never mind that, are you sure you’ve never seen him?”

  “Said so, didn’t I. He looks like some posh bloke. We never bothered anyone like him.”

  Time at the nick had worn the lad down. All the high-handed bluster had gone. He was on his own and he knew it. Calladine’s gut told him Harvey was telling the truth.

  “Okay, Andrew. I’ll see if we can get you bailed.” Calladine left the room.

  “Andrew Harvey didn’t recognise Pennington,” he told the team back in the incident room.

  “Well, I’ve got some good news,” Ruth smiled. “Pennington is definitely Stokes. Fingerprints are on file and they match.”

  Calladine studied the inci
dent board. They had the murders of Sean Barber and Frankie Halliwell, and a drugs scam involving what seemed like half the town. “Where are they getting the drugs from?” he voiced the question out loud. “That was a sizeable amount we found on Harvey. What had been cut and dealt in the properties looked sizable too. Whoever this Street is, he has some contacts.”

  “Given Stokes’s background, perhaps he can help with that one,” Ruth suggested sarcastically.

  “We’ll see. Any luck finding this Tyler Dodd?” Calladine asked.

  “The Manchester force have sent uniforms to his last known address. If they find him, he’s ours,” Rocco said.

  “And you’ll be able to recognise him from the night you were attacked?” Calladine asked Ruth.

  “Yes. He was the one who legged it with the holdall.”

  “Andrew Harvey will be bailed. If he gets involved with the gang again, we’ll haul him back and keep him in the cells.”

  Chapter 34

  ‘Giles Pennington,’ or whoever he really was, appeared relaxed as he waited to be interviewed with his solicitor. Calladine was surprised that it wasn’t Delaney.

  “Will this take long, Inspector?” he asked Calladine as he and Ruth entered the room. “You know my situation. I’d like to return and explain to Richard what’s happened.”

  “You will be with us for some time. We have the fingerprint results back,” Calladine faced him. “You’re Conrad Stokes.”

  He looked at Robert Crawford, his solicitor. “I don’t wish to comment on that.”

  “You heard my client,” Crawford’s replied.

  “Fingerprints don’t lie, so it’s pointless denying it. Does Richard Alder know your true identity?”

  “Yes, he does.”

  “I find that difficult to believe. Why would he befriend a man with your reputation? You are a thug and a drug dealer,” Calladine said.

  Pennington’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t like that. “Why am I here? I have done nothing wrong. Granted, I have a past. I hold my hands up to that. But I’m not that man anymore.”

  “Did you own a black Audi?”

  “No, but I had use of one,” he admitted. “From the Alder’s fleet. I borrowed it for several weeks prior to buying one of my own. After which, I returned it.”

  “You took it back to Alder’s?”

  Pennington nodded.

  “So you’ll be surprised to learn that we found the Audi burnt out on the Hobfield. We suspect it was being used by a gang who were distributing drugs around the town.”

  Pennington shook his head. “Drugs! So naturally, you drag me in.” It was obvious to Calladine that he was seething. “I am not responsible. Whatever’s going on around here has nothing to do with me.”

  “A murder weapon was found hidden in that car.”

  Pennington stared at Calladine. “I repeat, nothing to do with me. You have the wrong man. I’m not dealing drugs and I didn’t murder anyone.”

  “Not recently,” Calladine smiled.

  “I now have a new identity and I’m building a new future.”

  “Mr . . .” Calladine smiled at the man. “Which do you prefer, Pennington or Stokes?”

  “I’m Giles Pennington now.” The reply was firm.

  “Giles Pennington worked for a firm in Sheffield and looks nothing like you. Isn’t that identity theft?” Ruth said.

  “Giles is dead, so he’ll hardly complain.”

  Calladine leaned forward. “You were having a relationship with Frankie Halliwell. She was murdered, and with the same weapon we found in your car.” He paused, giving the man time to take this in. “So you see my problem.”

  Pennington inhaled. “I admit that I did have a fling with Frankie. But she was too full-on. She wanted a relationship. Frankie’s sister had just got married and she wanted the same. That isn’t for me, I’m afraid.”

  “Did you tell her this?”

  Pennington nodded.

  “Having met Frankie, I’ll bet that didn’t go down too well. Volatile young woman. Loses it when she’s angry. Take it badly, did she?”

  “For a while, but then she found someone else to lavish her attentions on. I was soon forgotten.”

  “Did she tell you about the baby?”

  Pennington looked shocked. He obviously had no idea.

  Calladine continued. “Frankie was pregnant at the time of her murder. Tests carried out showed that you were the father.”

  Pennington covered his face with his hands. “I didn’t know. She should have told me.”

  “What would you have done? You’ve just admitted you didn’t want a relationship.”

  “We’d have worked something out. I would have provided for them both. Look, you’ve got this wrong, I didn’t kill her or anyone else.”

  Calladine shook his head. “The problem is, Mr Pennington, I don’t believe you. We have your car, the weapon, and very soon we’ll have proof that links you to the drug dealing that’s gone on round here recently. A warrant is being organised to search your home, your phone records, and your bank accounts. We’ll find what we’re looking for, and you will be charged.”

  “No need for a warrant, Inspector. Go ahead and look at whatever you please.”

  * * *

  “I’m not sure about him,” Ruth said as they walked back to the incident room. “He comes across as genuine, and he’s happy for us to rummage around in his life.”

  “He’s a crook. Have you read the report we received from Glasgow? Pennington, Stokes — whatever name he’s using — is a villain of the first order. Don’t be taken in. He was perfectly placed to carry out the murders and organise the drug deals.”

  “You think he’s ‘Street?’”

  “Yes, I do. But I’m leaving that conversation for later. I want the results of the searches first.”

  They reached the incident room. “Rocco, have we got those warrants yet?” Calladine asked.

  “We don’t need them,” Ruth reminded him. “Pennington gave us permission.”

  “I’m not taking any chances,” he told her. “I don’t want any comebacks when we find something.”

  “They’ve just come through, sir,” Rocco confirmed. “Where do you want to start?”

  “Me and Ruth will look at his home. You and Alice go through his phone and bank records. Cross-check against any phone numbers we’re already looking at, particularly those belonging to Street and his gang.” He turned to Ruth. “Come on, let’s get this done with.”

  Calladine wasn’t happy. Ruth had voiced her doubts about Pennington and if he was honest, he wasn’t so sure himself. What was missing was solid evidence. The Audi belonged to Alder’s company. As for the registration document, that was still a puzzle. The plastic bag in which the knife was wrapped could have been deliberately placed. Birch was right, any lawyer worth his salt would have him released in no time. The CPS were unlikely to go with what they had either.

  Ruth interrupted his thoughts. “Bolton is a bit of a ride out.”

  “Too bad, we have no choice. It’s clutching at straws time, Ruth. We’ve been working on this for days and still got very little.”

  “We’ve found Sophie Alder. That’s put a lot of people’s minds at ease, not least of all mine. I hate missing kids cases.”

  * * *

  They drove down the motorway and half an hour later Calladine pulled up in the car park outside Stokes’ two-storey apartment block. The well-manicured gardens offered views out towards the surrounding hills. “How much, d’you reckon?” he asked Ruth.

  “Not cheap,” she answered. “Nothing is round here. But does he rent or has he bought?”

  “Phone Rocco, get him to find out.”

  A van full of uniformed officers was waiting for them. “The solicitor gave me the key, sir.” One of them handed it to Calladine. “Asked if we’d keep the place tidy.”

  “We’ll do our best.”

  Leaving Ruth on her mobile to Rocco, Calladine went inside. The place was immaculat
e. The décor was understated but expensive. Calladine made straight for a desk by the window and sat down. He picked up the laptop and handed it to one of the uniforms. “Get this looked at by the techies.” He opened the drawers but found nothing of interest.

  “Tom,” said Ruth, entering the room. “Rocco has got something. Pennington owns this place outright, but not only that, he lent Alder the ransom money.”

  Calladine was astonished. “Are you sure? That’s a huge amount.”

  “Well, a transfer of one million was made to Richard Alder from Pennington’s account in readiness. There was a sizeable balance left too.”

  “Where did he get that sort of money from? Surely the proceeds of his previous criminal activity would have been confiscated?”

  “We’ll have to ask him. But what’s the betting it’s the proceeds of more recent crimes. His recent drug dealing, for example? There is something else, and this might cheer you up.” She smiled. “Pennington’s phone records are in. Alice found both Sean Barber’s and Dean Laycock’s numbers amongst them.”

  Calladine smiled. It looked as if they’d got him. Those lads had no legitimate connection to Pennington that he was aware of.

  “I’m going back to the station. I want to speak to him again. Let’s see him wriggle out of this.”

  “I’ll carry on with the search,” said Ruth. “The sniffer dogs are due any minute. If Pennington has had drugs here, we’ll know soon enough. I’ll get a lift back with one of the uniforms.”

  They were making progress and Calladine felt a great deal happier on the drive back. Pennington was a cool character, but he’d be hard-pressed to talk his way round the new evidence.

  * * *

  Rocco handed Calladine several sheets of paper. “I’ve highlighted the calls and labelled them — Barber, Laycock and Street.”

  “Street rang Pennington? Shame. I had him down as being our elusive villain. So much for that theory.” Calladine scanned down the list. He frowned. “These are all incoming calls. Pennington didn’t phone any of them, and each call was only a few seconds long. That doesn’t make sense. I would have expected more calls and for longer. This is some operation they’ve got going. It takes organising. That requires longer than a few seconds.”