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

by Helen H. Durrant

  “D’you know what happened to Millie Reed?” he asked.

  “I know she ended up dead in a hole, but I’ve no idea how or why.”

  “Did any of you return later on, try to get even with the girl?” Calladine said.

  “We were too scared, and Jade wasn’t right. Besides, I had enough going on with our eviction. My mum needed me with her,” Karen said.

  It was a reasonable-enough account, similar to what others had told him. “Would you be willing to make a written statement of everything you’ve just told me?”

  “Yes, of course. Anything to help.”

  Calladine went and got a uniformed PC to organize the statement. “Leave me a contact number and address before you go,” he said. “There may be more questions.”

  * * *

  Back in his office, Calladine rang Debra Weller. “Would it be possible to meet?”

  “I’m not in Leesdon currently, I’m back in my office in Manchester. Is it important?” she said coldly.

  “Yes, and it does concern Marilyn.”

  “I hope you’re not planning a mudslinging fest, Mr Calladine. I heard from Marilyn only this morning, and she’s doing fine.”

  “She is, I’ve no complaints on that score, but there is a rather delicate matter I’d like to discuss with you.”

  “I have an important case on my hands right now. When I’ve got a spare hour, I’ll ring you but give me a day or so.”

  He’d have to be satisfied with that. Anyway, he needed time to gather as much evidence as he could get his hands on. Where the money came from to pay Marilyn’s legal fee for starters, and the name of the person who’d backed her story about Ray’s behaviour in court. He went out into the main office. Ruth wasn’t there. Rocco and Alice were sitting together studying a screen of information. Rocco had his arm around her. They must have decided that now he knew, they didn’t have to hide the relationship anymore.

  Calladine cleared his throat. “Just as well I’m not Greco. Mind you, he can’t talk. Alice, the parole hearing for Marilyn Fallon. Would you find me as much information as you can about the witnesses, names in particular? Also, fast-track all you can get on Ronan Sinclair. Find out about those visits to Marilyn in prison — how often, dates and so on.” He handed her the name and address of Sinclair’s wife. “Ring this woman, too, find out when she met Sinclair and how much she knows about his history.”

  “Isn’t Marilyn Fallon the woman staying with you, your cousin’s wife?” Rocco asked.

  “Yes, she is, and I’m beginning to smell a rat.” He checked his phone — late afternoon already. “I’m getting off. Alice, find anything, give me a ring.”

  An early finish would do no harm. He’d go home and get ready for tonight and his date with Kitty. He was glad he’d been wrong about her. Now he’d be free to see a lot more of her if she intended to stay on in Leesdon. For the first time in a while, life felt good.

  Out in the fresh air he inhaled deeply, and then rubbed his chest. He’d had a niggling pain for days, made worse when he got out of breath or stressed. He really should get it seen to. Ruth had noticed. Perhaps, when the case was finally sorted, a word with Doc Hoyle would do no harm.

  Chapter Forty-nine

  “I’ll be submitting my report to Sinclair’s wife within the next couple of days,” Kitty said. “I’ve got all the evidence she’s asked for. Once that happens, I leave Mother’s Kitchen, too, and will have to find somewhere else to live.”

  “Sandy Cole has his offices on the ground floor but there’s a flat upstairs. What about that?” Calladine said.

  “It’s got a sitting tenant,” she said. “I got a good deal on the property because of it. I spent most of my spare cash buying Sandy out, so I hope the bank will be generous. I have an appointment in the morning to chat about how much of a mortgage I can get. I’m just hoping it’s enough to buy one of those houses by the canal.”

  “If all else fails, you can have my spare room.” Calladine smiled.

  “You’ve got Sinclair’s other woman in it,” she said.

  “Not for much longer if things go according to plan,” he said.

  They were sitting together on the sofa. Kitty took his hand. “I’d like nothing better, but wouldn’t it be rushing things a bit? Up until yesterday, you thought I might be a murderer, now you’re offering me a room in your home.”

  “I’m really sorry for my suspicions. Can we drop it now, please? The whole Millie Reed thing gives me the shivers,” he said.

  “She has increased your workload,” Kitty said. “As well as everything else, you’re having to find out who killed her.”

  Calladine hadn’t really thought about it but she was right, and particularly if those bones Julian was testing confirmed it was Millie. He couldn’t see who else they’d belong to. Jade, Karen and Sarah were all accounted for.

  Kitty smiled at him. “This is something of an event. We’ve actually managed an entire meal without you dashing off.”

  He moved closer. “Let’s hope there’ll be many more.”

  “What’re you doing about the Hoard? Are you letting it come here or what?” she asked.

  Calladine spread his hands out. “I need concrete evidence that it’s in danger of being stolen before I can stop it. Tomorrow, with luck, I’ll have enough to speak to my DCI, get him onside and go from there.”

  “Sinclair is a fraud, you said so yourself, and the woman he’s taken up with has just come out of prison for killing her husband. They have to be planning something, they’ve got the right background.”

  “I didn’t like Ray much, but it was heartless of her to kill him like that, in cold blood. I reckon Marilyn is capable of anything. It wouldn’t surprise me if she was the brains behind the plans to steal the Hoard.” But where did Lazarov fit into all this? Sinclair and Marilyn were one thing, but the Bulgarian was a drugs man.

  “I doubt Ronan could plan anything,” Kitty said. “The man’s an idiot. He behaves like a lapdog around that woman. She’s been with him most days and has stayed over several times. The other night they had a late one, a couple of his friends came round, and they were laughing and chatting until the small hours. The following morning he knocked on my door asking for coffee. I took some round and found your Marilyn and some stray bloke comatose on the sofa.”

  How had Marilyn organized a big operation like this? And how had she met Sinclair in the first place? As far as Calladine knew, he’d had nothing to do with Leesworth or the museum until a few months ago. Someone must have approached him — and it couldn’t have been Marilyn, she was in prison — knowing he’d be up for whatever Marilyn had in mind. Was that Lazarov’s doing?

  Calladine hoped that Alice’s research and whatever he learned from Debra Weller when she finally agreed to meet him, would give him some answers. The Leesworth Hoard and what might happen to it was one thing, but he had four murders on his plate and sorting them had to come first. The shootings of Lazarov and the two lads — was that down to another dealer? But who? No one Calladine had in his sights fitted the bill. And then there was the puzzle of Becca O’Brien’s murder. That one was personal, all his instincts told him so, but again they had no evidence. Nothing but suspicions.

  Chapter Fifty

  Day Seven

  The evening with Kitty did Calladine the world of good. He got home late and had a good night’s sleep. He didn’t hear Marilyn come in. It wasn’t until the following morning that he realized she wasn’t around. Marilyn had stayed out all night.

  He’d mention it to Debra Weller the next time they met. He wasn’t sure what the terms of her parole were, but it wouldn’t do any harm to ask. A quick walk with Sam, a light breakfast and then he made for the station.

  Alice greeted him with a smile. “Some of the info you wanted is on your desk, sir. I had to dig deep to find it but Sinclair’s real name is Ronan Leyland, and he has a record for petty theft. He did a stint inside, too. As for the legal fees Mrs Fallon paid, we need a warrant t
o get access to her bank account. But my research did throw up something interesting.”

  Fair enough, he’d expected as much.

  “The main witness, a woman purporting to have been close to Mrs Fallon, told the court how badly Ray treated her. She quoted dates and had photos of bruises he inflicted. She said she befriended Mrs Fallon and encouraged her to open up about it. According to her, she had witnessed Mr Fallon’s cruelty towards his wife on a number of occasions. The witness said that several times she was concerned for her own safety, and eventually persuaded Mrs Fallon to ask for help.”

  “Is there any evidence that Marilyn did that?”

  “No. Her husband was arrested and that was that.”

  “Who was this witness who perjured herself so expertly for Marilyn?” he asked.

  “This is the interesting bit, sir. Her name is Maggie Cox, she’s a physio at the hospital in Manchester. She’s also—”

  “I know who she is.” Calladine smiled. “You’ve done well, Alice. Thanks.”

  Now he knew who the third man was — Lazarov, had to be. He had been living with Maggie Cox prior to his disappearance. Calladine wrote the name “Maggie Cox” on his notepad. He grabbed his coat and went into the main office. “Is Ruth about? I want the address for Maggie Cox.”

  With a smile, Rocco handed him a slip of paper. “Want me to come with you?”

  As he spoke, Ruth entered the office with two cups of coffee. “One of these is for you.”

  “You stay here,” he said to Rocco, “and bring Greco up to date. Ruth’s already met the woman and knows the way there. While you’re talking to Greco, get him to authorize a warrant to go through all the bank accounts held by Maggie Cox and Marilyn Fallon. Give him the gist and say to make it urgent. I want to know how much money they’ve both got stashed away and their spending pattern over these last few months.” He nodded at the coffees Ruth was holding. “Fetch them with you, we’re going for a ride into town.”

  * * *

  Ruth had been to Maggie Cox’s home before and knew where to park the car, so she drove.

  “What’s she like?” Calladine asked.

  “Seemed okay to me,” she said, “helpful enough. She told us Lazarov had left a month before and hadn’t come back.”

  “Did she seem bothered about it?”

  “Actually no, now that you ask,” Ruth said.

  Maggie answered the door and eyed Ruth warily. “I told you all I know the other day.”

  “Not quite, Ms Cox,” Calladine said. “You didn’t say anything about Marilyn Fallon and her connection to Lazarov.”

  As soon as he mentioned Marilyn, she stepped back as if about to shut the door in their faces. “I don’t know anyone with that name.”

  “Odd that, because you were the main witness at her appeal. You stood up in court and told everyone how she was mistreated by her husband, Ray. You made a good job of it, too. Marilyn was released.”

  “What of it?” she shrugged, “Giving evidence isn’t a crime.”

  “It is if it’s false.” Calladine smiled. “And it’s not true, is it, Ms Cox? You lied in court and I believe you were paid a large sum of money to do so.”

  “Prove it!” she spat. “Now leave me alone. I don’t want you coming to my house again.”

  “It doesn’t work like that,” Calladine said. “You’re coming to Leesdon Police Station with us. You will be cautioned and then you will tell us exactly how you became involved with Lazarov and Marilyn Fallon.”

  “I want a solicitor.”

  “You can have one. Any preference?” he said.

  “Debra Weller.”

  Calladine ushered Maggie Cox to the car. She sat in the back seat with Ruth while he drove. She’d asked for Debra Weller — why? Was she part of it? Had she been paid off too? He hoped not, because that would give them a problem. What he needed now more than anything was someone to tell the truth.

  Chapter Fifty-one

  Maggie Cox was put in an interview room with a uniformed officer to watch her. “Debra Weller, the woman she’s asked for, is Marilyn’s solicitor,” Calladine told Ruth. “We’ll delay, tell her Debra can’t be reached.”

  “Julian’s been on,” Rocco told them. “He reckons he’s got something for you.”

  Calladine rang him.

  “D’you recall the empty drink cans we found in the workshop at Gorse House?” Julian said. “We’ve been through the lot, which was no mean task I can tell you. Most had evidence of Lazarov’s DNA as you would expect, but one didn’t. An empty lager can, two lots of different DNA and a trace of lipstick.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “That the drink was shared by a man and woman, and recently, too — the saliva was relatively fresh.”

  Perhaps whoever killed Lazarov was having a small celebration. “Have you analysed it?” Calladine said.

  “Of course. One set belongs to a Ronan Leyland and the other to Marilyn Fallon. A simple job — their DNA is on record.”

  Calladine couldn’t stop beaming. “Julian, you’re a wonder.”

  The scientist cleared his throat modestly. “Simply doing my job, Tom.”

  This was the breakthrough Calladine had prayed for. Marilyn and Sinclair — or Leyland to give him his real name — must have killed Lazarov and stuffed him in that freezer.

  He needed those warrants for the bank accounts urgently. With the evidence he had, plus any suspect money transfers, Marilyn would be back inside by nightfall. He went for a word with Greco, to bring him up to date and get him to ring the magistrate. The DCI had more clout than him.

  Greco onside, he returned to the main office to tell the others.

  “The minute you hear that the magistrate has issued the warrants, check Cox’s and Marilyn’s accounts and text me the details,” he told Ruth.

  “Where are you going?” she asked.

  “I’m going to arrest Marilyn. I want to know what she was doing up at Gorse House.” He looked at Rocco. “You go and fetch Sinclair.”

  Outside the station, Calladine turned up his coat collar. It was raining and cold. Winter was starting. If it followed the usual pattern for these parts, it would be long and hard. He shivered, climbed into his car and turned the heater on full blast. He rang his home number and Marilyn answered. Good, no need to search around Leesworth for her.

  “Stick the kettle on, I’ll be back for a bite shortly.” Better keep it friendly. He didn’t want her doing a runner.

  * * *

  It took only minutes to reach his home. He checked his mobile — nothing. He hoped those bank details wouldn’t take long. Proof of financial transactions between her and Cox, or her and Lazarov for that matter, would be the icing on the cake.

  “Not like you to take time out,” she said. “I’ve made a pot of tea. Had something to eat? I can get you a sandwich.”

  “Sorry, Marilyn, this isn’t a social visit. I’m here to take you down to the station.”

  She looked confused. “Why? What on earth d’you think I’ve done?”

  “How long have you known Ronan Sinclair — or Leyland to give him his proper name?”

  “Long enough. This isn’t about him, is it?”

  Hearing the doorbell ring, Calladine looked out of the front window and saw Stephen Greco. What did he want?

  “I’ve looked at the bank account, Tom. You were right to be suspicious,” Greco said. Then, more quietly, “I’m arresting Marilyn Fallon. You are a relative, so you’ll have to back off.”

  Calladine wanted to explain that she was no kin of his, Ray neither, but Greco was right, she was living under his roof. “I was just about to bring her in.”

  “Leave her to me. I’ve got a car and two uniformed officers to escort her.”

  “Sorry, Marilyn,” Calladine said. “Get your coat. My colleague is here to arrest you.”

  Chapter Fifty-two

  Marilyn Fallon was in an interview room with a uniformed officer, waiting for her solicitor to arri
ve. “She’s asked for Debra Weller,” Greco told Calladine.

  “She’s good,” Calladine said. “She knows Marilyn and will have all the right bricks in place in no time. That woman got Marilyn off a murder charge on appeal, but what she doesn’t realize is that she was conned. Once she knows the truth, we can only hope that Ms Weller isn’t so keen.”

  Greco handed Calladine some paperwork. “The bank statements are all in there, plus other details of the accounts that you should be aware of. I’ll deal with Fallon with Ruth, you and Rocco interview Maggie Cox.”

  Ruth came along the corridor to join them. “Debra Weller’s arrived and she’s not happy. She’s in with Marilyn now, going over stuff.”

  Greco nodded. “It’ll be you and me with Fallon.”

  “And you?” Ruth asked Calladine.

  “I’ll take Maggie Cox.”

  Greco led the way to the interview room. Marilyn and Debra Weller were deep in conference.

  “This is one huge mistake,” the solicitor said at once. “She had no idea what Ronan Sinclair was up to.”

  “I think Mrs Fallon knew very well what was going on,” Greco said. He turned to Marilyn. “We have evidence that puts you and Sinclair at the scene of a murder. So why not save us all a lot of time and say what it was you and Sinclair were up to.”

  “Not me — Ronan,” she said. “He planned to steal the Leesworth Hoard. That’s why he got the job at the museum.”

  Greco nodded. “That much seems straightforward. But why start a relationship with you? What did he need you for? With his job, he was already well placed to do it on his own.”

  Marilyn said nothing to this. Greco checked his notes. “He even visited you in prison. Did you know the man prior to being convicted of your husband’s murder?”