DEAD SORRY a totally addictive crime thriller with a huge twist (Calladine & Bayliss Mystery Book 11)

by Helen H. Durrant

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Calladine looked around. The sitting room was large with two comfy-looking sofas covered in cushions and a picture window looking out over the canal at the back of the old bank building. “You’ve made the place nice,” he said.

  Kitty shrugged. “It’s not what I want though. As I told you, I’m after quaint. This place is okay, but the building has been modernized to within an inch of its life.”

  He settled on one of the sofas. “It’d do me. You work downstairs, too, no commute. The perfect set-up in my eyes.”

  “Well, not in mine. I want to go home and forget work at closing time. It might look modern on the surface, but the place is old, and it creaks. I hear the weirdest noises in the dead of night.”

  Calladine nodded. He knew a story about this building. No, perhaps he shouldn’t tell it to her.

  “What?” she asked, hands on her hips. “I saw that look. What doesn’t Mr Policeman want to tell me?”

  “Are you sure you want to know?” he said.

  “I most certainly do. Now, give.”

  “I told you this used to be the village bank. Right next door is the museum. Well, back in the early 1950s the bank was raided, and a young copper was shot dead. The robbers knocked a hole in an adjoining wall. They got into the strongroom and tripped the alarm. The copper who was patrolling the street responded and got a bullet in the chest for his trouble.”

  “No one told me that,” she exclaimed. “Did they get much money?”

  Calladine shook his head. “No, they were stopped as they tried to leave. All I’m saying is that this building and the one next door have history and not all of it is good.” He looked around and nodded. “I’ve always thought this place had an atmosphere, but you’ve changed that, given it a new lease of life.”

  She changed the subject. “Time to think about food. What d’you fancy eating? I’ll have it sent up — steak, chips, some salad on the side?”

  Calladine gave her a beaming smile. “Steak and chips will be fine. You can forget the salad.”

  “I’ll go downstairs and organize it. There’s a bottle of red there, would you open it?”

  Kitty disappeared. Calladine dealt with the wine, poured himself a glass and idly looked at the photos on the sideboard. One showed a girl of about thirteen with blonde hair, wearing what looked like a Leesdon High uniform. It didn’t register straight away — a measure of how tired he was. He returned to the comfort of the sofa, closed his eyes and took a sip of the wine. He was warm and relaxed for the first time in a while. He might have drifted off to sleep but the sound of his mobile startled him back into reality and drove away all thoughts of that photo.

  He fished it out of his pocket, it was Rocco.

  “We’ve brought a lad in, sir. I had a scout down the towpath with the forensic boys this afternoon and found this chancer selling dope to the kids.”

  “Is he one of Johnno’s lot?” Calladine asked.

  “No, he reckons he’s working for the new firm. That’s why I rang. Greco plans to interview him but I thought you should know.”

  The Lazarov part of this investigation wasn’t down to him, but Rocco had been right to tell him.

  “Has he said anything?” Calladine said.

  “No. Reckons it’s more than his life’s worth,” Rocco said.

  “Is Ruth there?” Calladine asked.

  “Yes. Shall I get her to ring you when they’re done?”

  “Yes. In the meantime, I want another word with Johnno Higgs.” So much for the relaxing evening. “I’ve got to go, Kitty,” he told her as soon as she returned.

  “No, Tom. What about the food? Our evening together?”

  “Sorry, but there’ll be other times. I really do have to go.”

  * * *

  Back in his car, Calladine rang Higgs. “I need a word. Where are you?”

  “I’m staying with a mate — ground floor, Heron House. I’ll look out for you.”

  Higgs had to know more than he’d told him. The man was scared — Calladine understood that. He was scared himself. He knew of old what Lazarov was capable of.

  It took only minutes to reach the Hobfield. Johnno Higgs was waiting in the shadows outside the tower block. “Where are you living now?” Calladine asked.

  “Moved into an empty one on the ground floor, just down the corridor there. As long as no one notices, I’ll be sound.”

  “We’ve brought in a young lad caught dealing on the towpath. Who is he?” Calladine asked.

  “How the hell should I know?” Higgs exclaimed. “It’s nowt to do with me. I’m well out of the loop these days.”

  Calladine was wondering whether to believe him or not when he heard an owl hoot high up on the tower roof. Unusual and unexpected for a noisy estate allegedly awash with drugs. He looked around — the place was like the grave. There was no one about, no noise, no blaring music and certainly no kids on bikes delivering dope for the dealers. Something wasn’t right.

  “It’s not usually like this. What’s going on?”

  “All quiet like, yeah. Has been for a while,” Higgs said. “No good asking me why. I don’t have a clue.”

  “So where does the dealing go on?” Calladine asked.

  “I’ve told you — I don’t know owt about it. I only know there’s supposed to be someone new and he’s a hard nut. Perhaps he’s trying his luck in a more upmarket part of town. Well, good luck to him, that’s what I say.”

  Calladine heaved a sigh. Perhaps Higgs was right. For as long as he could remember, the Hobfield had been the place to buy drugs in Leesdon. But wherever Lazarov was operating, it wasn’t around here.

  Chapter Thirty-four

  His night ruined, all Calladine wanted to do was go home, call it a day. But there was a young lad at the station he needed to speak to.

  Ruth met him at the station entrance. “This one’s ours,” she said at once.

  “It’s late. Have you managed to sort a sitter for Harry?” he said.

  “Yes, Jake’s round at mine. He knows my hours aren’t regular and to expect his life to be disrupted occasionally. Serves him right.”

  “Have you spoken to the lad Rocco brought in yet?” Calladine asked.

  “No, he’s being processed. But there’s no doubt he has been dealing. His pockets were full of little bags of cocaine.”

  “On his own, was he?” Calladine asked.

  “Yes, but there’s bound to be others. He’ll tell us soon enough. Looks scared stiff to be honest,” she said.

  “Mind if I sit in?” he asked.

  “I don’t, but I don’t know about Greco.”

  “I’ll have a word.” Calladine strode up the corridor to Greco’s office. His case or not, he needed to test a theory.

  “We can manage, you know,” Greco said.

  The DCI’s face was expressionless, so Calladine couldn’t tell if he was annoyed at his interference or not. “I’d like to ask the lad a couple of questions. The two cases do overlap where the forensics are concerned,” he said.

  “Okay, but don’t upset him. He could be a direct route to Lazarov. Just what we need right now,” Greco said.

  Calladine nodded, but he doubted the lad knew anything about Lazarov. Something wasn’t right and he was wondering just how much any of this was down to the Bulgarian villain.

  Back in the incident room, Ruth handed him a file. “Arran Hughes, lives on the Hobfield, so he knows the estate well enough, and who his customers are.”

  Calladine skimmed through the notes. “He’s been in bother before.”

  “A couple of stints in young offenders, both times dealing was involved, but he was always hanging on the coat-tails of someone older. Whether it’s the same this time, he’s not saying.”

  “Anyone with him when he was picked up?” Calladine asked.

  “No. Arran reckons he was on his way back to the estate to check in with his boss.”

  “Has he said who that is?”

&nbs
p; “No.”

  Rocco stuck his head around the office door. “We’re on,” he said.

  “You don’t have to be here,” Ruth said again. “I’m sure you’ve got better things to do.”

  “I had. I was about to enjoy a pleasant supper with Kitty when Rocco rang.”

  “So, why sacrifice your evening for something we can deal with?” she said.

  “I had a quick word with Johnno Higgs and realized this is more important,” he said.

  “Can’t bear to be left out, Calladine, that’s your problem.”

  The two of them made their way to the interview room. Greco and Rocco were already there, along with Arran Hughes and the duty solicitor. The lad was pale and looked as nervous as hell. He might have been in trouble with the police before, but he was no hard man.

  “You were apprehended on the canal towpath, Arran,” Greco began. “An amount of what we believe to be cocaine was found on your person. Tell me where you got it from.”

  The lad looked around at the others and then settled his gaze on Calladine. “It’s not mine,” he said.

  “Yes it is, Arran. You were caught red-handed,” Calladine said. “So why don’t you save us all a lot of bother and tell us who you’re working for.”

  The lad looked away. “Speak to you lot and I’ll be a dead man.”

  “The coke, lad, who’re you selling it for?” Calladine raised his voice. They’d be here all night at this rate.

  “No one gave it me. I found it.”

  “Don’t give me that rubbish,” Calladine said. “If you don’t start talking, you’ll find yourself banged up for a long time.”

  “No!” squealed Arran. “You’re supposed to release me, give me a warning and let me go.”

  Calladine shook his head. “Who told you that? You know it doesn’t work like that. You’ve been in trouble before, Arran. You were brought in only three months ago with a large amount of cannabis on you. You obviously haven’t learned your lesson, so the magistrates will take a dim view and sentence you accordingly.”

  Arran sounded close to tears. “I was paid to take the stuff and try to sell it. I didn’t want to.”

  “Who paid you and supplied the goods?” Calladine asked.

  “I was told where to pick up the stuff — a phone call, we never met. Then I had to go round the estate and get rid of it.”

  “Giving the stuff away, were you?” Calladine asked.

  “No one was buying, and I got nervous. I had a lot of dope on me and the Hobfield isn’t my patch.”

  “Were you working alone, Arran?” Ruth asked.

  The lad nodded.

  “Just tell us who you’re working for, Arran,” Calladine said.

  “Like I said, this man rang me, told me where to find the coke. He said I should sell it and keep the proceeds. He said there’d be more work. It sounded like a good deal to me. I don’t know his name and when I tried to ring him back, the number was discontinued.”

  “Can I have a word?” Greco asked Calladine. They went out into the corridor.

  “He’s guilty, there’s no doubt about that. Brought in with the drugs on him, so we’ll charge him and save ourselves a wasted night,” Greco said. “When we go back in, ask him whatever it is you want to know and let’s all go home.”

  “He was set up,” Calladine said. “Whoever left the drugs for him used a burner phone. This is for our benefit, Stephen. We’re supposed to link Arran Hughes to the new boss on the Hobfield. But that doesn’t work for me. There’s something wrong and I can’t work out what it is. I was on the Hobfield tonight, wanted a word with Higgs. There’s nothing happening — no dealing, no kids and no one looking to buy. I don’t know why, but someone is trying very hard to make it appear that we’ve got a new drugs baron in the area, but I don’t see the evidence. So far, all we’ve got is a few hundred pounds’ worth of coke and one frightened lad.”

  “Lazarov?”

  “Still not sure, but I intend to find out.”

  “You get off, I’ll charge the lad and call it a day.”

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Day Five

  “I got the feeling that Greco wasn’t best pleased last night. What did you say to him?” Ruth asked. “You both buggered off into the corridor, you disappeared, and he came back into the room in a right mood.”

  Ignoring her question, Calladine merely said, “Did the lad say anything else?”

  “No, he kept on saying he just picked the stuff up and insists he hasn’t a clue who is behind it. He’s in front of the magistrate this morning and will probably get bail.”

  “He could be telling the truth,” Calladine said.

  “What? What’s got into you? Course he’s not. Arran Hughes is working for Lazarov, has to be,” she said.

  “We’ll see.”

  “What’re you up to this morning?” Ruth asked.

  “I want another word with Sarah Cromwell,” he said.

  “You only saw her yesterday.”

  “She was cagey, holding back,” Calladine said. “We’ll push her a bit, see how she responds.”

  “We? I’m supposed to be working with Greco, not you. Have you cleared it with him?”

  He hadn’t. Calladine couldn’t get used to not having Ruth with him. Besides, he hoped a female officer might get more out of Mrs Cromwell, and she might even remember Ruth from school. “I’ll see if Greco’ll take Rocco this morning. Can’t see how he can refuse. Rocco brought Hughes in and knows the drug haunts on the Hobfield. Greco, being the man he is, will want to make absolutely sure that Hughes wasn’t spinning us a yarn.”

  Ruth nodded. “Sarah was pally with Jade and her gang when we were young. I only vaguely recollect her, she was the quiet one, more of a tag-a-long than a proper gang member. She was a lot easier to get on with than the others. I think she actually had a conscience.”

  “She’s the one who looked shifty when I spoke to them twenty-odd years ago. She wanted to say something but was afraid of what Jade would do, I reckon,” he said.

  Ruth raised an eyebrow. “Weren’t we all back then.”

  “When we’re done with her, I’d like to take a look at Gorse House.”

  “What for? There’s nothing there,” Ruth said.

  “Perhaps not but just indulge me. It’s central to the case and I haven’t been up there in all these years. Anyway, according to Long’s file there are still a couple of buildings standing, an old workshop and a summer house. I’ll have that word with Greco, and we’ll get off.”

  * * *

  Once Calladine explained how Ruth might help prise information out of Sarah Cromwell, Greco was fine with the swap.

  “What do you think she isn’t telling you, then?” Ruth asked.

  “The truth,” he said. “She knows what happened that day, and for reasons I don’t understand, she’s still too scared to say anything.”

  “Her reasons are simple — Jade.”

  “Not after all this time, surely?” Calladine said. “Jade can’t hurt her now. No, Ruth, there has to be something else. I think that under the influence of Jade, those girls deliberately hurt Millie Reed. That’s what she’s afraid will come out. And if I’m right, that makes her an accessory to murder.”

  “But you saw Millie coming home from school. You said as much,” Ruth said.

  Ruth was right. When he’d seen the Reed girl, it had been from a distance but she appeared to be fine. “There’s always the theory that those girls went back up there, and Jade got her revenge.”

  “I don’t see it,” she said. “Jade had a head injury. Within a couple of days she was in a coma in hospital.”

  It was a mystery, but there had to be an explanation. Calladine was certain that whatever happened to Millie Reed that day was central to this current case.

  Sarah Cromwell wasn’t pleased to see them. She let them into the house and showed them into a small room overlooking the back garden. “My husband is upstairs working. I’d rather he didn’t know too m
uch about this.”

  “Why? Afraid of what he might find out?” Calladine said.

  She glared at him. “Jack knows very little about my past. He doesn’t even know that I grew up on the Hobfield.” She sniffed. “And given how he feels about that place, I’d prefer it to stay that way.”

  “Where you were raised is of no interest to us, Mrs Cromwell. All I want is the truth about what happened the day Jade was injured. Then we’ll happily leave you in peace.”

  She looked at Ruth and her eyes widened. “I know you. From school. You were a few years behind us.”

  “Yes, and I remember you and the girls you hung out with.”

  “I bet you do. We terrorized the lot of you. We practically ran that school. Had Jade not been attacked, perhaps in time she’d have ruled the entire estate.” She hung her head. “I’m sorry for what we did back then, for how we were. If anything we did or said upset you personally, then I can only apologize.

  “I did my best to keep out of your way,” Ruth said. “I kept my head down, we all did.”

  Sarah sighed. “Shame Millie didn’t think the same.”

  “What happened, Sarah? How was Jade injured?” Calladine asked. “We know Millie Reed disappeared, but we have no idea why. Perhaps you can tell us about that, too.”

  “This is your chance to come clean, Sarah, to put the record straight,” Ruth urged.

  Sarah looked into the distance. “I admit I lied to you back then. We did go up to Millie’s house that day and Jade was itching for a fight. We’d gone into the workshop outside to look for gear Jade could give Johnno to sell. Jade teased Millie all the time, and that day was no different. I think she was jealous of the girl, of how pretty she was and the fact that she lived in a big house and had nice things. But Jade didn’t know when to stop. She picked up a Stanley knife and lunged at her, threatened to cut off the mole on her face. She must have hurt her because there was a lot of blood and Millie looked shocked. If that wasn’t enough, Jade snatched a locket Millie wore around her neck. It looked expensive — gold, with Millie’s initials on it.”