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

by HELEN H. DURRANT

  “It’s five hundred quid, Mum, and I don’t have a bean.”

  “You want a loan?”

  “Think of it as a donation!” Megan grinned. “Dad’s giving me some dosh for furniture, so it’s only fair that you chip in. Think how good it’ll be to have me out of the way. You and that old boyfriend of yours can get all cosy without me spying on the pair of you. I’m off now, I’ll leave you to think about it.”

  Rachel poured herself some juice from the fridge, went into the sitting room and peered out through the window. Jed’s car was parked outside. That meant he was at Alan’s. What were they talking about? She felt the butterflies in her stomach. She could only hope that it was about the house sale and she hadn’t been the hot topic. The idea that Alan and Jed were talking about her was weird enough without the worry that Jed would say something out of turn. Could she trust him? Jed was a law unto himself, and now that Alan was moving out and he was moving in, he’d see no reason to watch his tongue.

  She saw Alan’s car pull away, followed by a knock on her front door.

  Damn! Rachel didn’t want this, and to top it all, she looked a right sight. At least with Megan out and Mia having stayed over at her best friend Ella’s the night before, she was alone. Just as well. She didn’t want the kids listening in to her conversation with Jed.

  “What d’you want?” she said.

  He thrust a bouquet of roses towards her and his face fell. “I don’t expect much from you, Rachel, but I am trying very hard. Have these. I chose them specially.”

  “You’re forcing your way into my life and I don’t like it. I wish you’d just leave me alone.”

  “You don’t mean that.” Rachel saw the quizzical look. “What’s up? You look a bit rough. Heavy night? Hit the town with your team, did you?”

  “No, I bloody well did not. You’d better come in.” It had started to rain — she couldn’t leave him on the doorstep. She stood aside and gestured for him to follow her into the sitting room. “Are you still going ahead with next door?”

  “Yes, I’ve got my legal team working hard to get everything sorted as fast as possible. I’ve paid a hefty deposit, the rest to follow on completion. I’m not waiting, I’m buying this house. It’s a cash sale and I’ve signed a document drawn up by my solicitor to assure Alan that I will not pull out. That way he can go ahead with his plans in the meantime. I haven’t haggled over price and will take the place as it is. Like it or not, Rachel, we’ll be neighbours soon, so you’d better get used to the idea.”

  He was right. Short of moving herself, there was nothing she could do. Alan was thrilled to bits at having found a buyer so quickly and to be starting a new life with Belinda. No way could she spoil that for him.

  Jed had made himself comfortable on her sofa and was watching her. “Something’s wrong. You’re not the same.”

  “Rubbish, it’s early and I’ve just got up. I’ve not even brushed my hair.”

  “No, that’s not it, there’s something else.”

  “You! That’s what’s wrong with me.” She folded her arms, pacing the floor. “You’ve done it again, wheedled your way back into my life. I’m sick of it.”

  “I can do without a mouthful, Rachel. I’ve not come here to argue. All I want is to see more of Mia. Surely you can understand that. I’m Mia’s father, and I’ve already missed out on so many precious years. And I want to see more of you, too, if you’ll let me.”

  His words struck home. Rachel felt a real pang of guilt. She had known that Mia was Jed’s since she was an infant but had said nothing all these years.

  “I mean it, Rachel. I should have told you I was buying the cottage, but I wanted it to be a surprise. You’re free now, and so am I. There’s no reason why we can’t try to get on. Even better, rekindle our relationship. I still love you, in case you didn’t know.”

  Rachel felt the tears well up in her eyes. She couldn’t do this, she couldn’t keep the truth from him a second time. He deserved to know.

  “I’m pregnant,” she whispered, avoiding his gaze. “With your baby. Malaga, remember?”

  The silence that followed seemed endless. Finally, Rachel said, “Say something, please. Even if it’s that you hate me.”

  “Of course I don’t hate you. I love you, I always have. You’re sure about the baby?”

  “Positive. That’s why I look so rough. I feel wretched most mornings.”

  “Another child. That’s truly wonderful news.” He smiled. “I’ll get to see this one grow up.”

  “Oh, you’ll do more than that, Jed McAteer, you’re in on a fifty-fifty basis. The crying, the nappies, the sleepless nights, the bloody lot.”

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Monday

  On Monday morning, Elwyn collared Rachel on the stairs as she was on her way to the incident room. “You’re late and you’ve got a visitor — Nell Hennessey. She’s been here since eight. I’ve given her a coffee and stuck her in the soft interview room.”

  The DCI from Tameside! What with the events of the weekend, Rachel had forgotten about her.

  “I might be late but she’s early. Lunch, she said! I’ll dump my stuff and see what she wants. Anything from forensics come in?” Rachel asked.

  “Message from Jason. He wants you to ring him.”

  “I’ll deal with my visitor first,” she said.

  DCI Nell Hennessey wasn’t what Rachel had expected. She was older, for a start, about fifty. Her dark hair had flecks of grey. It was chin-length with no fringe and a slight wave, and she kept brushing it aside while she talked. There was no trace of make-up on her face. Her clothes were smart — a trouser suit with a white shirt — but her coat looked a couple of sizes too big.

  “Rachel?” She stood up, smiled and held out a hand. “I’m Nell. Sorry to arrive so early, but I need your input on a case I’m investigating.”

  “That’s okay. I’m sorry I was late in. It was panic stations at home this morning.”

  “You have a family? Kids?”

  “Yes, and they’re a demanding bunch.”

  “You’re luck. There’s only me and Dee, my mother, at home, and Betty, of course, our dog. Dee looks after the house and I do the work stuff. It suits us.” She shrugged.

  Referring to her mother by her first name, how very progressive. There was probably a story there, but there was no time now, Rachel had to get on. Jason wanted to talk to her and that meant he must have news. “How can I help?”

  “I’d like you to look at something.” Nell busied herself fishing around in the voluminous pockets of her coat for a few moments. “Sorry, Rachel, I was certain I’d brought it with me. You must think me a right disorganised mare. Which I am, by the way, but not usually with something so important.”

  Despite the name, which Rachel took to be Scottish, Nell Hennessey had a broad Northern accent. She was obviously a plain-speaking woman with no edge to her. Rachel recognised the type — said what she thought and always found a way of getting what she wanted.

  “Found it,” she said at last, producing her mobile. “Right, take a good look at the image and tell me if you’ve seen this young man before.”

  Rachel was stunned. It was the bloke from the night she’d eaten with Jed at the restaurant on Deansgate. The one with the fancy trainers who’d said her parents’ death wasn’t an accident. “Yes,” she said. “I’ve seen him once.”

  “Did he speak to you?”

  “Yes. He told me something very strange. I still don’t know what to make of it.”

  “About your parents?”

  Rachel handed the mobile back to her. “How d’you know that?”

  “Because I’m familiar with how these people operate. He told you their death wasn’t an accident?”

  Rachel nodded. This was surreal. That young man had told her about a very personal event from the past that she’d buried and didn’t like to think about. She’d no idea what it had to do with this oddball detective from a neighbouring force.

&n
bsp; “It was an accident,” Rachel told her. “My dad was speeding. It was a wet night and he took a bend too fast and crashed into some trees. Both my parents were killed outright. There were post-mortems, an inquest. No way was there a mistake.”

  “That young man is running a scam. He’s approached other people with a similar story. Best thing is to take no notice of anything he told you.” Nell smiled. “I appreciate you seeing me.

  “What is he after, apart from upsetting folk?”

  “He is just one aspect of a complex case my team are currently knee-deep in. Don’t worry, Rachel, if anything comes out of it that you need to know, I’ll be in touch.”

  Nell Hennessey was giving nothing away and Rachel was left feeling cheated. If there was a mystery surrounding her parents and how they’d died, she wanted to know about it.

  * * *

  “You alright?” Elwyn asked.

  Rachel joined him and the others in the incident room. “Not here,” she whispered.

  “Jude wants us at the lab, and then Jason’s asked if we can go and see him at the mill.”

  “Sounds like a day out. I’ll get my stuff.”

  “You’re looking a bit pale again. Has that DCI Hennessey upset you?” Elwyn asked as they made for the car.

  “No, but I’m not sure what to make of her. She wanted to know about the bloke who spoke to me on Deansgate, the one who said those things about my parents. I want to be helpful, but it’s a raw subject, Elwyn, and I’ve only just learned to live with it. For all I know he’s just some villain I’ve had a run-in with that’s stirring up trouble. Grim as it sounds, I’d rather that than Hennessey’s scenario. She thinks there’s some scam going on about what happened to my parents. He’s done it to others too, apparently. She said this scam is linked to her current investigation but she wouldn’t say more. I’m not sure what her angle is. I’ll have to keep my eye on her.”

  “I’ll do some checks, find out a bit more about her. You’ve enough to think about at the moment. I’d forget it, if I were you, otherwise it’ll take over your head.”

  Good advice from Elwyn, as usual, but Rachel wasn’t so sure. The DCI appeared to know her stuff. She wouldn’t have come to see her without good reason. Rachel wanted to know what Nell Hennessey was investigating. Perhaps once this case was wrapped up, she’d speak to her again.

  Chapter Thirty-six

  “I hope you appreciate our efforts,” Jude said. “Jason and I have been burning the midnight oil all weekend on your behalf. Me here, stuck in the lab, and Jason at the mill.”

  Typical Jude. When she got involved, there was no stopping her. “You know we appreciate everything you do,” Rachel said, smiling.

  “Well, it’s paid off. Examination of the bullets proves that Andy Siddall and Billy Sherwin were shot with the same gun.”

  Rachel had to admit that she hadn’t even considered that one. She was slipping.

  “But the big news is that over the weekend, Jason and his team found one of the bullets used to shoot Gavin Wellburn in the legs three years ago. Guess what we discovered?” Jude smiled. “It was a match to the other two.”

  Rachel took a few seconds to weigh this up. “You’re saying that the same gun was used in all three shootings?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Wellburn, Sherwin and Siddall, all with the same enemy. But who, and why?”

  “Drugs?” suggested Elwyn. “We know Sherwin was heavily involved, perhaps the other two were running the show before him. This could be a simple matter of an argument between dealers.”

  “Where Sherwin’s concerned, I agree, drugs could be the motive for his death, but we’ve found nothing to link either Wellburn or Siddall to his dealings. What does link them all, though, is Shawcross Mill,” Rachel said thoughtfully.

  “But why? What went on there that meant two men had to die and another be hospitalised?” Elwyn asked.

  “I think Siddall was meant to die too, Elwyn. Have a word with those uniforms guarding him, make sure they stay sharp.” She paused. “Anything on that Saint Christopher necklace found with the first body?”

  “We have managed to extract DNA from the links in the chain, and it isn’t the victim’s. I think he must have wrenched it from around someone’s neck and hung on to it,” Jude said.

  “Do we have a match?” Rachel asked.

  Jude gave them her best disappointed look. “No.”

  Nonetheless, Jude and her team had done well. Rachel knew now that they were most likely looking for someone who was involved with Wellburn, Siddall and Sherwin. Given that everyone knew everyone else in the area around the mill, that wasn’t surprising.

  “What now?” Elwyn asked as they left.

  “I’ll get on to Amy about the jeweller’s mark on that necklace. She was supposed to be chasing it up. They might have a record of who bought it. And I think we should have another word with Dylan Healey. He knew Sherwin and was terrified of the man. Now Sherwin’s dead, he might be prepared to tell us more.”

  “We’re going with the drugs angle then?” he asked.

  Rachel climbed into the passenger seat. “We’ve got nothing else. Sherwin was a dealer. They were all shot with the same gun. This case has to involve drugs somewhere down the line. We’ll go and see what Jason’s found next.”

  Elwyn changed the subject. “Good weekend?”

  “I had a visit from Jed on Sunday, that’s partly why I didn’t come in. We had a long talk about stuff.”

  He glanced at her. “Any stuff in particular?”

  Rachel smiled. “I told him about the baby.”

  Elwyn gave a long whistle. “And he took it well?”

  “I think so. He was surprised. But he’s promised to do his share of the childcare. I doubt he’ll be as good as Alan, but he reckons he’s happy to put his all into it.”

  “Well, you really like to upend your whole life from one day to the next! Jed is constantly jetting about, eyeing up property. How will he cope with an infant and having to see a client at a moment’s notice?” Elwyn asked.

  “I don’t know, but he’s promised to make it work, and I’ll keep him to that. But I do intend to take extended leave, so we’ll have plenty of time to learn how to live together and develop a routine for the baby.”

  Elwyn’s face fell. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said. “I realise you’ll have to take time off, but I’m a selfish so-and-so. I was hoping it would be the minimum.”

  “It’s the baby or my career, Elwyn. I’ve reached an age where I can’t do both well. The pressures are too great. I did it once, but I was considerably younger, I had Alan on tap and the energy.”

  She could see that he was upset. They’d worked together for a long time and had an excellent clear-up rate. This could put paid to that.

  “We’ll get someone else for the duration,” he said. “Any ideas? Please don’t saddle me with a workshy useless idiot!”

  “I might not have a say in the matter and I haven’t discussed it with Kenton yet. I’m avoiding him because of the case. He’ll have loads of tricky questions and I’ve got little in the way of answers. Tell him I’m pregnant and he’ll use it as an excuse to hand the whole lot over to the cold case team. We’ve put in too much work to allow that to happen now.”

  “It won’t be the same, coming in each day and you not being here.”

  “You’ll have the team around you, and the work. The time will fly, Elwyn, you’ll see. Meanwhile, I’ll be up to my neck in nappies and baby sick. Don’t expect me to feel sorry for you. I’ll be back — I just don’t know when.”

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  Jonny Farrell looked through the statements that had been taken the previous week. Ray Pearce, Andy Siddall and Gavin Wellburn didn’t have records. During interview, Siddall had mentioned having an altercation one night after drinking in a pub. They’d all drunk too much and had attacked a man on the street. The man had been injured and was taken to hospital. He’d given a comprehensive descripti
on of his attackers, including Gavin Wellburn’s leather jacket. Within a day or two, Wellburn was brought in and named the others. But the victim, despite having been hospitalised, had not pressed charges. Jonny was wondering why. The injuries he’d sustained were nasty, including a broken arm necessitating several weeks off work. Not surprising, given that one of the perpetrators was Ray Pearce.

  Jonny decided to find out more about the assault. He knew where the victim worked from the record made at the time and decided to go and speak to him. He was curious as to why he’d taken no action, and wondered if that crew had leaned on him.

  Amy was engrossed in something at her desk. “What are you up to?” Jonny asked.

  “I’m trying to find out who that Saint Christopher was made for. The boss is on my back. I’m hoping the mark on it will give us something,” Amy said.

  “Any luck?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Could it have been made by one of those craftspeople in the units at the mill?” he asked.

  “It’s worth a look.” She smiled. “Thanks, Jonny.”

  “If the boss comes back, tell her I’ll be about an hour,” he said.

  “You’ve found something,” she said. “I know that look. Want to share?”

  “Not yet, it might be nothing. But if it is, it might give us the break we need.”

  Amy frowned — he was at it again. “Stay in touch. The boss won’t like it if you get into bother again.”

  Laughing, Jonny left the office. Eric Tunstall, the man who’d been assaulted, worked in a hardware shop on Levenshulme’s high street. Not far, so with luck he should be there and back well within the hour.

  He’d rung ahead and knew that Tunstall was working today, although he’d not said why he wanted to speak to him. Jonny didn’t know if a chat would be useful or not, but when he’d read the report, his instinct had kicked in. The incident was important for some reason, and he wanted to find out more about it.

  * * *

  Tunstall was nervous. Jonny saw it the minute he introduced himself.