FORGOTTEN VICTIM an absolutely gripping crime mystery with a massive twist (Detective Rachel King Thrillers Book 4)

by HELEN H. DURRANT

  “Heavens, no. Him up there would never forgive me.” He nodded up at Thomas’s portrait. “Although I have to say, the money would come in handy.”

  “Hard times?”

  Rachel hadn’t meant her remark to be taken seriously. Her tone had been flippant, but the expression on Shawcross’s smile changed to a grimace.

  “Very much so. The family fortunes are not what they were.”

  * * *

  “It’s good to see you again, Millie,” Jonny told the girl. “I’m surprised you’re leaving this place, it’s a fabulous house.”

  “It’s a prison, Jonno, believe me. I’ll never have any freedom while I’m living with my father. He’s so controlling. You should ask my mother.”

  “I had no idea. Is he the way he is because your mother left?”

  “My mother left because of the way he is. He made her life a misery, but she got out eventually and made another life for herself. She even got engaged.” Millie smiled. “You should have seen him trying to get his head round that one. He’s one jealous man at times.”

  “Jonny!” Rachel called to him. “Time to go.”

  Jonny pecked Millie on the cheek. “Take care.”

  Back in the car, Rachel asked Jonny what he thought.

  “Millie’s scared of him — her own father. She’s leaving because of his jealousy and his controlling nature.”

  “That’s not the impression I got. I thought he was nice, open and friendly.”

  “Involved in the case?”

  “I wouldn’t think so, Jonny. He’s too wrapped up with this place and keeping it afloat. The mill is probably a huge inconvenience, and one that’s going to cost him money he hasn’t got, from all accounts.” As far as she was concerned, Mathew Shawcross had been candid with them. “Now, what is it with you and his daughter, Millie? You said nothing about knowing the family.”

  “I don’t, ma’am, not much, anyway. I was surprised to see her here. When we were at university, she called herself Millie Fenwick. I never associated her with the Shawcross family.”

  Rachel thought for a moment. “Do you know what happened to Millie’s mother?”

  “She left him and took up with another man. I’ve no idea who, but it caused quite a stir at the time. Vanessa Shawcross left here with Millie in tow. I presume that’s when Millie took to using her mother’s name of Fenwick.”

  “But she does call herself Shawcross these days. She’s on the electoral register. Make that call and arrange to meet. See if you can find out more about the divorce.”

  “Is it important, ma’am?”

  “Well, it’s background and you never know.”

  “And, ma’am . . . please don’t tell the team about her calling me Jonno. I couldn’t stand the teasing.”

  Grinning, Rachel nudged his arm. “It’ll cost you, Detective Constable.”

  Chapter Ten

  Elwyn and Amy sat in the interview room facing Dylan Healey and the duty solicitor. Healey did not appear to be in the least bothered by his arrest. He gave the two detectives a friendly nod before stretching out his long legs and sitting back, relaxed.

  His attitude niggled Elwyn. Petty villains like Healey saw nothing wrong in their antics. “You’ve had numerous warnings but yet again, you’ve been caught in Shawcross Mill, using,” Elwyn said.

  Healey shrugged. “A bit of weed, that’s all, nothing heavy.”

  Not the slightest hint of remorse. “It’s still against the law, Dylan,” Amy warned. “And this isn’t the first time. Were you dealing too?”

  “Look, I hold my hands up to using, and hitting that copper, but I’m small fry. You’re missing a trick, pissing around with me when you should be sorting out the real problem.” Healey had a grin on his face. “You’ve no idea, have you? You lot haven’t the first clue about what’s really going on. I’m not the problem, believe me.”

  That sparked Elwyn’s curiosity. They’d no idea that there was serious dealing going on at the mill. “Perhaps you’d like to tell us more, Dylan,” Elwyn said.

  “Not my place,” he said immediately. “Speak to you lot and I get my head bashed in. I’ve already said too much as it is.”

  Elwyn couldn’t let this go. Was this just Healey spouting rubbish, or something else? “What are you telling us? That there’s a problem with dealing at that mill, and no one’s noticed?”

  “Oh, folk notice, alright. They just don’t tell you lot. Drugs are big business. The problem in my area is well established. It’s hush-hush and it runs like clockwork.”

  “I don’t believe you,” Elwyn said. “Tell us what you mean, Dylan. We need details.”

  “No jobs, no prospects, families with nowt and some poor sods with a habit to feed . . . Think about it, copper. There’s a lot of users out there. Like I said, big business. Someone is making a fortune but it ain’t me. I’m just an occasional user who sees stuff, a shadow no one notices.”

  Elwyn looked at the young man trying to work out if he was telling the truth. “You’re saying the dealing and drug problem is much bigger in that area than we realised?”

  “Bright one, aren’t you?” Dylan grinned at Elwyn. “Take a gold star.”

  Ignoring the sarcasm, Elwyn asked, “Exactly what are you saying, Dylan? Be more precise.”

  “Nowt. That’s all you’re getting. I’ve said too much as it is. I don’t want to end up like him you found. But if I was you, I’d keep a watch on that mill. You never know what else you might discover.”

  “What are you talking about? More bodies?” asked Amy.

  “I don’t know, but nothing would surprise me.”

  * * *

  “Do we attach any importance to what Healey told us?” Amy asked as they left the room.

  “I’ll make enquiries, see if there’ve been any complaints about dealing in that area. Forensics are searching the mill, so we’ll wait and see what they come up with too. Make a note on the board,” he said.

  “The drug problem, if there is one, could be a motive,” Amy said. “Get on the wrong side of a dealer and they’re brutal.”

  “Agreed, but at the moment, it’s simply conjecture. Healey is a known liar. He’d say anything to save his skin.”

  “Are we charging him?” she asked.

  “With assault? Too right we are.”

  Elwyn was only too aware that time was passing, and they had neither a name for the victim, nor a motive for his murder. Was it down to a vengeful dealer as Amy thought? Or was that too simple?

  Rachel had texted him a list of the tenants who’d had units in the mill. There were ten, and every one of them would have to be found and interviewed. Not an easy task.

  “Stella, see what you can do with this. They all had units in Shawcross Mill at one time.”

  Stella was the team’s information officer and admin assistant. She took the list and read through it. “I know him,” she said. “Andy Siddall used to be a mechanic until his accident.”

  “Andy’s Autos?” Elwyn asked.

  “Yep, until his right hand got busted and he lost everything. Mind you, he must have done something right. Up until that time he lived in Ardwick, by the Apollo, these days he’s living in a nice little bungalow in Reddish. I’ll find the number.”

  “Thanks. We’ll start with him.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Siddall’s bungalow was on a small crescent of similar properties near the golf course in Reddish.

  “He lives in number five,” Amy said. “There — that one.”

  “Do we have any information other than what Stella told us?” Elwyn said.

  Amy flipped through the notes. “No. He ran his own car repair business from the mill until the accident, after which he had to give up.”

  “Not on our system, then?”

  “No, he’s never been in trouble.”

  “Do we know anything about his accident?”

  She shrugged. “Nothing here.”

  Elwyn rang the bell. They heard a dog
bark and several minutes later a tallish man opened the door. “Andy Siddall?”

  He backed away slightly, looking them up and down. “Who wants to know?”

  “We’re police,” Elwyn said. “CID. We’re investigating a murder at Shawcross Mill. Can we come in?”

  “No, it’ll upset the dog. I read about that in the paper. Poor sod, whoever he was.”

  “That’s why we’re here. We’ve no identity for the victim. You ran your business from the mill at one time, so anything you can recall might help.”

  “I wasn’t the only one who worked from there, there was a bunch of us. It could have been anyone.”

  Amy passed him the image of the leather jacket. “We will be talking to the others but in the meantime, would you take a look? We believe this belonged to the victim. Have you seen it before?”

  Siddall coughed. When he raised his right hand to cover his mouth, the detectives saw the black glove.

  “Bad was it, the injury?” Elwyn asked.

  “Too right it was. It finished me. I was a sole trader. Business wasn’t always good, and I couldn’t afford fancy insurance. Know what that means?”

  Elwyn nodded. “No pay-out.”

  “Can’t you work at all?” Amy asked.

  Siddall removed the glove. The hand was unrecognisable, completely mangled and with three fingers missing. “The ramp failed, my hand got caught under it, took the full force. The surgeon wanted to amputate but I refused permission. I had no choice but to lose the fingers, no circulation in them. I thought, no matter how bad, half a hand was better than none.”

  Amy looked at the damaged flesh. “I’m very sorry. It must have made things hard.”

  “It did, but I just have to get on with it.”

  “You haven’t done too bad though.” Elwyn smiled. “Since the accident you’ve got out of Ardwick and bought this place.”

  “I’ve worked all my life, until this.” He held up his hand. “I used my savings and got a mortgage.”

  “The jacket?” Elwyn reminded.

  He shook his head dismissively. “Sorry, no. I’ve no idea who owned it.”

  “It’s quite distinctive,” Amy said. “We’re not sure yet, but the name on the back could be ‘Gav.’ Does that ring any bells?”

  Siddall shook his head again. “I kept myself to myself, got on with my work. Business fluctuated but I did have my busy spells. The mill was a vibrant place back then, lots of units, people coming and going all the time. That poor man could be anyone.”

  Elwyn handed him a card. “If you do remember anything, give me a ring.”

  * * *

  “Poor man, his hand is in a right state,” Amy said as they went back to the car.

  Elwyn ignored her comment. He had every sympathy, but Siddall had said nothing to help the case and Elwyn had the feeling it was deliberate. It was frustrating. They badly needed a break or very soon they’d have Kenton on their backs. “I got the impression that he was hiding something. Did you believe his story about the injury?”

  “What are you suggesting, sir?”

  “I’m not sure, but everywhere we go we hit a brick wall and that bothers me. Someone must know who our victim was, or at the very least have one or two suggestions. That jacket is fairly special. See it once and you’d remember.”

  While they were talking, Elwyn noticed a woman walking in their direction. It was Rita Pearce from the Spinners Arms.

  Elwyn looked at her in surprise. “Mrs Pearce. What are you doing here?”

  The woman looked away and lowered her head. “I don’t see that it’s any of your business, but if you must know, a friend of mine lives in one of these.” She nodded at the bungalows.

  This was too much of a coincidence. “Is that friend Andy Siddall, by any chance?”

  “No!” she exclaimed. “I haven’t seen Andy in ages. I’d no idea he even lived along here.”

  Elwyn bent down and peered more closely into her face. He thought so. The woman had a black eye, which she’d tried to conceal with make-up.

  “Who gave you that?” Elwyn asked.

  “It’s nothing. I fell against a kitchen cupboard.”

  “It looks really sore.”

  “Look, I’ve got to go. I can’t stand around here talking, it’s cold.”

  “You do remember Andy, then?”

  “Yes, of course I do, he fixed our car a couple of times.”

  “Did you know about his accident?” Elwyn asked.

  She looked away. “I heard something about it. He had to give up working, I believe.”

  “Okay, we’ll let you get on.” Elwyn smiled at her and stood aside.

  They watched her walk past Siddall’s place until she disappeared around the corner.

  “She’s lying too,” Elwyn said. “There seems to be some sort of conspiracy going on. No one who had anything to do with that mill will tell us the truth about what really went on there.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Rachel had only been back in her office a matter of minutes when Jude rang.

  “I haven’t done the full PM yet but there have been some interesting developments. Could you come to the morgue? It’ll be easier to show you rather than explain over the phone,” Jude said.

  Sounded hopeful. They certainly needed a break. “See you in ten,” Rachel said.

  “Fancy a trip to the morgue? Jude’s found something,” Rachel said to Jonny.

  “Elwyn’s been on, he wants more info on Rita Pearce and her husband. He’s asking about hospital records, injuries she’s sustained, that kind of thing,” Jonny replied.

  Rachel frowned. She had noticed the bruise. “Okay. If you find anything important, text me. Meanwhile, get photos of her and her family on the board.”

  Rachel grabbed her things and left the office. Kenton was in the corridor eyeing up the noticeboard. What was he looking for?

  “You’ll have seen the vacancy for the senior crime officers based in Stockport?” he asked.

  “Yes, but why would they be of interest to me?”

  “Stockport is closer to your home. It’d be more convenient for you, that’s all.” He smiled.

  Did he want rid of her? The expression on his face gave nothing away, but Rachel felt uncomfortable. “I’m fine where I am, thanks. And if I do decide to move, I’ll make the decision without your help.” Maybe that was a bit curt, but Rachel found it hard to read this man.

  “Ooh, touchy. Get out of the wrong side of the bed?”

  Idiot! Who did he think he was? He hadn’t been here two minutes and already he was finding her another job. Ignoring him, Rachel walked away, seething. This was only the beginning. Kenton was unlikely to leave things as they were. All his officers at Salford had been hand-picked, they’d joined his team from across the country and had been happy to do so. What mayhem had he planned for her?

  * * *

  “I hope the way you look is not a reflection of your mood, Rachel,” Jude said. “You’re obviously troubled. What is it? Do you want to talk about it?”

  Rachel inhaled. Jude was more than just a colleague. They’d become close friends over the years. She could trust her. “It’s got nothing to do with the case.” She paused, and then whispered, “I’m pregnant.”

  Jude gave her a big smile. “What lovely news! Aren’t you pleased?”

  “I don’t know what I am. I’m confused, torn, unable to decide what I should do about it. And that’s all I want to say on the matter.”

  “That is big news. From the look on your face, I presume it’s as much of a surprise to you as it was to me.” She put her arm around Rachel. “If you do want to chat, discuss the father, tell me about him, you know where I am.”

  “Thanks, Jude. Now, let’s get on with the job in hand.”

  Jude led the way into one of the labs. “It’ll be tomorrow before I do the full PM, but I’ve done a preliminary examination and I’ve found something of interest.”

  They waited while a technician uncovered the
body. “The face is badly decomposed, but he still has hair and most of his teeth. With regard to his ID, you may get a match from dental records. But it was what I found lodged between his back molars that intrigued me.” Jude took a kidney dish and showed the contents to Rachel. It contained what looked like fragments of paper. “Odd, don’t you think?”

  “What is it?” Rachel asked.

  “Fragments of bank notes. We’ve done a little piecing together and there’s more than one. It’s as if a handful was scrunched up and forced into his mouth.”

  “Why?”

  “That’s your province. When you find out, do let me know. It’s a first for us.” Jude picked up one of the fragments with a pair of tweezers. “This is from a fifty-pound note. We’ll run tests on the lot and see if we can decipher any serial numbers. If we do, the bank might be able to help.”

  Rachel shook her head. “It’s a weird one, alright, however the notes got there.”

  “Jason is doing a fingertip search of that small cellar and the tunnel entrance. I have examined what’s left of our victim’s legs and I’m fairly certain that he was shot — both knees, I’m afraid. Jason is looking for the bullets.

  “You’re looking for a nasty bugger, Rachel. I sincerely hope you find him. We’ve cleaned up the leather jacket too. The letters on the back definitely spell ‘Gav.’ Short for Gavin?”

  There was no one with that name on the list of tenants. “That’s something we can use. Thanks, Jude. Oh, and about the other thing. I have told you and Elwyn and that’s it. I haven’t figured out what to do about it yet, so, well, I’m in denial, I suppose.”

  “It’s a huge decision and not an easy one, but would you consider a termination?”

  In the wee small hours of the night, of course she had, but she’d think about that some other time. Rachel didn’t want to consider the consequences of the choice. A baby would be inconvenient, it’d put paid to any career move she might have planned, but was that a good enough reason to get rid of it?

  “I haven’t thought about it, Jude. But I’m going to have to soon. If I do have a termination, no one need ever know. But if I have the baby, then I’ll have to tell the father, my girls, and sort my job out. It’s too much right now. I’ll decide after we’ve wrapped this case up.”