His Third Victim

by Helen H. Durrant

  Now he had to decide where to place the petting farm. He envisaged starting with a few small animals — rabbits, guinea pigs and the like — for the children to feed.

  Oh, why was she so dead set against his plans? He didn’t understand why she couldn’t see what they were up against. The energy bills alone for a place this size were astronomical. He needed to get her more involved. With Sarah in charge, that became a strong possibility.

  * * *

  Agnes Harvey walked around her neat bungalow, checking that all the windows and doors were locked. She would be gone for a fortnight and didn’t want to invite trouble. Agnes was going to Spain with a friend. They took a holiday together at this time every year. The taxi was arranged for nine p.m. They would pick up her friend Joan on the way, and then it would take them the ten miles or so to Manchester Airport.

  Agnes was in her early sixties, slim and with short greying hair. She lived alone and had almost no family. There was a niece, her brother’s child. They spoke on the phone from time to time, but not recently, and Agnes couldn’t understand why. She knew the young woman was going through some sort of crisis in her life. She’d rung her only yesterday and although tearful, her niece had offered no explanation. Agnes had asked if she could help, even offered to postpone her holiday, but the niece had refused. When she returned, Agnes decided she would get in touch, and find out what was wrong.

  She heard the beep of a car horn. The taxi was here. Agnes wheeled her suitcase out to the waiting car and slid onto the back seat while the driver put it in the boot.

  “We go via Cheadle to pick up my friend,” she reminded him.

  He nodded and pulled out of the lane. Soon they were on the dual carriageway, and Agnes settled back into her seat.

  It was dark outside and drizzling. They had been driving at speed for fifteen minutes and should have reached Joan’s by now. She rubbed at the steamed-up window and squinted out. “I think you must have taken a wrong turn somewhere,” she said to the driver.

  “Yeah, I just realised,” he said. “No worries. I’ll take the next right and turn around.”

  Agnes was surprised. She expected taxi drivers to know their stuff. She used this firm frequently, but she hadn’t seen this driver before.

  Abruptly he pulled into a layby and turned off the engine.

  Her nerves began to jangle. Something was wrong. At this rate they would be late for the plane. “What’s going on?”

  “The engine is tugging. Give me a moment.”

  He got out of the car and lifted the bonnet. This wasn’t right. She decided she’d better ring Joan, tell her about the delay. But before she could get out her phone, the driver tapped on the window. She rolled it down and looked up at him.

  “Sorry about this. Change of plan for you, I’m afraid.”

  Then she saw the gun. A split second later, she felt it, pushed firm against her temple. For reasons Agnes didn’t understand, she was about to die. She screamed and made a grab for him, and her fingers just scraped his wrist. But it was no use. He pulled the trigger.

  The woman flopped dead onto the seat, a pool of blood rapidly spreading around her. Shame about the upholstery, he thought, not giving Agnes a second thought. The front seat was virtually wrecked from when he’d shot Fisher. Now the back seat was useless. He’d stash the car for a while and get rid of it when things calmed down.

  Chapter 14

  Day 11

  Lily was already there when Matt came in next morning. “You’re in early, sir. Want a cuppa?”

  “It’s okay, Lily, I can make my own.”

  “We’ve got Bella’s phone records,” she said. “Nothing unusual, but they only go back two years. I can’t find a contract in her name before that.”

  Matt sighed. “Two years. Like everything else in her life.”

  “There’s still nowt on the red Ford. Of course, he could have stuck false plates on it.”

  “Is the super in yet?”

  She shook her head. “Are we going to have another chat with Bella? Maybe if we face her with what we know . . .”

  “I’m not sure what we do know. If she is in witness protection and we go storming in, we might jeopardise her new identity. We could be signing her death warrant.”

  Lily frowned. “Tricky one.”

  “It’s very quiet around here.” Matt was looking at the empty desks.

  “There was another murder last night. A woman’s body was found on a dirt track over Hepworth way.”

  “I live out there myself,” said Matt.

  “It’s a nice place. Very out in the sticks, with big stone houses.”

  Matt didn’t reply. He didn’t like to talk about his own ‘big stone house’ at work, and especially not the Brindle estate.

  “She was killed somewhere else and dumped,” said Lily. “Bullet to the temple, and a blue mark on her arm, so she has to be one of the randoms.”

  “That’s two blue marks now. I doubt it’s random, though. There must be some connection between this woman and Alan Fisher, otherwise the different coloured marks don’t make any sense.”

  Lily shook her head. “None of it makes any sense if you ask me.”

  “Do you know where the super has gone?”

  “He’s gone to take a look at the dump site, and then on to the morgue. The doctor who attended thought the victim might have struck her attacker. Dyson is hoping for some DNA at last.”

  Matt walked through to the adjoining office. Carlisle was out but DC Beckwith was just coming in. “We’ve got an identity,” he said. “She was an Agnes Harvey and she lived in Cheadle Heath, that’s just outside Stockport. CSIs are searching her house right now. Apparently she was off to Spain with a friend. Neighbours saw her get into a taxi last night.”

  “The taxi firm? Anything on that?” asked Matt.

  “She was supposed to pick up a friend on the way to the airport. She says that Agnes Harvey rang the one she always uses, but I doubt it was them that turned up.”

  That meant the killer had researched the woman’s recent history. He knew about the holiday, and which taxi firm she used. “Are you going to check for connections with Fisher?”

  Beckwith shrugged. “Yes, but there won’t be any.”

  “You can’t know that. Can I suggest that you carry out the task with a more positive attitude?”

  Matt spun on his heels and strode back to the office.

  Lily looked up when he walked in. “Sir, we’ve had a phone call. Some of the local high-school kids have been doing a project. They’ve been doing a survey of the traffic along the Meltham Road at various times of the day.”

  Matt raised an eyebrow. “That sounds like fun.”

  “The point is, one or two of them were there when Oliver Richards was taken. One boy was using his mobile phone to video the traffic. His mum has rung in. She says we can go round and take a look.”

  “Isn’t the child in school?” asked Matt.

  “No, it’s half term, so he’s at home.”

  “In that case, let’s go. Where does he live?”

  “Up on the tops — Scholes village.”

  Matt knew where that was. Not too far from his own home, in fact. “I’ll drive.”

  * * *

  Luke Standish was fourteen years old, tall for his age and skinny. His face was covered in adolescent pimples that weren’t quite acne.

  “Thanks for getting in touch,” Lily said.

  He blushed bright red.

  The boy’s mother spoke for him. “We heard about the little lad on the news. Luke remembered being on that road the same day.”

  Matt smiled at Luke. “Let’s have a look at what you’ve got for us.”

  Luke began searching though the contents of his phone.

  “He doesn’t remember the man,” his mother said. “I don’t think it will be much use talking to our Luke, but he’s got loads of stuff on that thing.”

  The boy scrolled through his videos until he found the one he wante
d. He handed the phone to Matt. “I think that’s ’im.”

  Matt looked at the footage. Of course, the boy had been focusing on the stream of traffic, but he must have been standing directly across the road from the newsagents. He’d caught Oliver Richards’s back view as well as that of the man standing with him.

  Matt nodded. “This is good.” He watched for a few seconds more. The pair moved off towards the side road where Matt had presumed the man’s car was parked. If they could get this enhanced, they might have a reasonable side view of the man. “Do you have anything else?”

  “Not for that day. We took that footage then moved on to the junction with the bypass.”

  “Do you think your friends got anything?”

  “The others were logging types of vehicle on their forms. I decided to film them instead. I’ll ask, but I doubt they will have anything.”

  Matt looked at the footage again. “Luke, I’m going to send this to my phone. If you do find anything else, or you remember anything, please let me know.” He handed Luke’s mother his card.

  Back in the car, Matt checked the film. “This is great. We might have a likeness to circulate before the end of the day.”

  Matt’s own mobile rang. It was his mother. She wanted him to return home. Freddie had turned up and was now engaged in a heated discussion with Sarah. According to his mother, they needed Matt to give the final say-so to any change in the original plans. Just what he needed.

  He turned to Lily. “A short detour. I’m having some major alterations done at home. Now I’ve come back to work, I’ve had to leave my sister in charge. Straight away she wants to change things. My mother reckons they need me to give the final okay.”

  “You live with your mum and sister?” Lily sounded surprised.

  “Just my mother. My sister Sarah lives with her two kids in Hepworth village.”

  Lily grinned. “Doesn’t that cramp your style, having your mum at home?”

  What to tell her? Well, she’d see for herself soon enough. “It’s not like that. It’s a family house. It’s big, and I have my own rooms.”

  “Dark horse, aren’t you?”

  Matt shrugged. “Not really, I just don’t like bringing my personal life to work. The more people know about me, the more they get it wrong. Folk take one look at the house and imagine all sorts of nonsense.”

  Matt pulled out onto the Sheffield Road. A couple of miles on, he turned up a narrow lane, then climbed a steep hill. He drove on for a further two miles, through the village of Hepworth, until finally, off a side road, they reached the long driveway up to the Hall.

  Lily’s mouth dropped open. All her amusement at the notion of him living with his mum was gone. “This is where you live? Bloody hell, it’s a mansion!”

  Matt wished she weren’t with him. “I’d appreciate it if you kept my living arrangements to yourself, Lily. I try to keep my private and work life as separate as I can.”

  “What are you, some sort of landowning lord or something?”

  Matt chuckled. “Well, I do own land, yes, but I’m certainly no lord. My ancestors did all the hard work. They earned the money that bought this pile, but it’s me that’s saddled with its upkeep. Don’t be impressed, Lily. Believe me, it’s one real hard slog.”

  He could see from the look on her face that she didn’t believe this for a minute. She stared open-mouthed at the lake, then, just as they pulled up in front of the huge Georgian House, one of the peacocks chose that very moment to call loudly and fan its colourful tail feathers at them.

  Matt grinned. “That’s Hughie. Don’t get too close, he’s a bad-tempered bugger.”

  “Can I come in?”

  “Yes, of course. Come on, I’ll introduce you to my mother.”

  The minute they stepped through the front door, he heard his mother call out. “Matthew! Freddie has upset Sarah. I’m afraid this isn’t going to work.”

  “Ma, this is Lily, my new work colleague.”

  His mother looked Lily up and down. She’d disapprove, she always did, but she wouldn’t let it show. She’d tell him later when he got home after work.

  Evelyn Brindle smiled graciously. “Nice to meet you. Do something, Matthew, before things get ugly!”

  “Come on.” He nudged Lily. “Let’s go and find out what they are up to.” Matt led the way back outside, around the side of the house and towards the stone outbuildings. “Freddie is a damn good builder. Sarah is supposed to be looking after the alterations now that I’ve returned to work. I’m sure whatever changes they’ve settled on between them will be fine.”

  When they reached the larger of the two buildings, all was quiet. Matt opened the door and peered in. Freddie and Sarah were deep in conversation, looking at a set of plans.

  Sarah looked up. “Mother call you, did she? She doesn’t think I’m up to this. At the first sign of me wanting something different,” she pointed at the plan, “She runs to you.”

  “Sorry, sis. She said I was needed.”

  Matt’s sister, Sarah, was tall like him and had the same brown hair, which she wore short. But her face was softer, and she had huge dark brown eyes, fringed with long, black lashes.

  “Well, you’re not,” she said. “We were thrashing out a problem, that’s all.” She paused, looking at her brother, then at Lily. “You know what this is really about, don’t you? She wants you here, where she can keep an eye on you. She’s terrified you’ll get hurt again. She thinks if you believe I can’t manage this, then you’ll come running back.”

  Matt shook his head. “It’s a bit late for that. I’ll have a word with her later and make her see that everything will be fine. She can’t demand that I come all the way up here every time she panics.”

  “A word? It’s our mother you’re talking about. She’ll listen, she’ll nod and then she’ll do what she bloody well pleases!”

  “What was the discussion about anyway?”

  “I put forward the idea of having a link between the café and the gift shop,” Freddie told him. “A conservatory. We could site the ice-cream parlour in it, and make the gift shop that much bigger.”

  “Cost?” Matt asked.

  “We’d be saving on repairs to the west end of this building. In effect, we’d demolish that wall. The cost would be a little over budget, but not much.”

  Matt nodded. “Okay, go ahead. Sarah?”

  “Fine with me. Just make sure you and Mum have that conversation. Then I can see to this, and you can get on with solving crimes. But be careful, Matt. Nothing rash.”

  Chapter 15

  When Matt and Lily returned to the station, Dyson and Carlisle were back, and deep in conversation in Dyson’s office. Lily took the phone, ready to take it to the tech boys to get the video footage sorted.

  “Oliver’s lunch bag was found and taken to forensics. Would you find out if they’ve got anything?” Matt asked her.

  Dyson had spotted him and was making a beeline for his desk.

  “The search of the latest victim’s house has thrown up a bit of a puzzle. This was found on her sideboard.” He placed a photograph, in an ornate silver frame, on Matt’s desk. “If I’m not mistaken, it’s the little lad, Oliver Richards.”

  Indeed it was. Matt stared at the image of the boy in his school uniform. There it was, the link he’d suspected between the ‘Mr Apology’ killings and the kidnapping of the boy. Finding the photo also meant that both of the ‘blue’ victims had known Bella Richards.

  Dyson grunted. “This has thrown Carlisle and no mistake.”

  It hadn’t thrown Matt. He’d thought the two cases were linked from the start.

  Matt looked at the super. “Bella Richards is at the centre of what happened to Fisher and the woman last night, but why?”

  “This could very well have something to do with her past life. We have to consider that if she is on the protection programme, whoever she’s hiding from might have found her. This could be an act of revenge.”

  Matt frowne
d. “What about our ‘Mr Apology?’ If your theory is right, sir, how come the pattern is the same as with the others? Whoever she is hiding from can’t know the details of the case.”

  “I don’t know, Matt, we can’t be sure. It depends on who Bella is running from. There are villains in prison who still have a lot of clout on the outside. People talk. The ‘Mr Apology’ case has been in the papers, it’s been ongoing for a while. Right back at the beginning, that bloody rag published all the details. The reporter tackled one of the uniforms who was still wet behind the ears. The stupid lad gave him the lot.”

  Matt nodded. “The latest victim, she’s called Agnes Harvey, you say?” He jotted the name down. “Given what’s happened I will speak to Bella Richards about the woman. If you’re right, then she may be connected to Bella’s old life. She might be someone Bella could not simply walk away from. We really could do with knowing the truth about Bella Richards’s past.”

  “I’ve spoken to the ACC. He refuses to help. Reckons if we’re right, it would be too dangerous for Bella and her kid. Speaking of which, this came this morning. It was addressed to DI Carlisle, but he’s passed it on.” He handed Matt an envelope. “It purports to be from Gabe Parker. If it’s genuine, then it appears he does exist after all. Parker reckons there’s been a spat going on for some time between him and Bella with regard to him having access to the boy. So he took matters into his own hands. He writes that he’s got him. Says they’re safe and sound, and currently in Stornoway.”

  “That’s the Isle of Lewis. He’s taken him far enough away! Has this letter been verified as genuine?”

  “We have no way of doing that. We can’t find him, remember. Speak to the mother. See if she recognises the handwriting. Get her to talk about her relationship with Parker. I have a bad feeling about this.” Dyson shook his head.