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

by HELEN H. DURRANT

  “No need, love,” Elsie said. “I know him, and where he lives too. He has the pub over by the mill, the Spinners Arms.”

  Jonny smiled and thanked them. “You’ve been very helpful. Here’s my card. If you think of anything else, just give me a ring.”

  Back out in the street, Jonny rang the incident room and spoke to Rachel. “The neighbours next door to number forty-five identified Ray Pearce, ma’am. They knew exactly who he was. Pearce must have been the one who opened up the hole down to the tunnel. He made a lot of noise in the cellar, apparently, and disturbed the next-door neighbours. They also told me something else that could be significant. I’ll be back in the incident room as soon as.”

  * * *

  Ray Pearce hadn’t used much imagination in the alibis he provided for the times Sherwin was killed and Siddall wounded. On both occasions, he insisted he was in the pub. Kath Madison was behind the bar when Amy stopped by.

  “How’s Rita doing?” Amy asked.

  “She’s still in hospital. They’re trying to decide whether or not she’ll need surgery. Is this how it’s going to be when she gets home? I wish you lot would leave the poor woman alone. She isn’t taking it well, you know. Carry on and it will affect her recovery.”

  “This isn’t about Rita. I’m checking out the alibis Ray has given me for two particular dates.” Amy found the details in her notebook and showed her. “Perhaps you can help.”

  Kath pointed to the date of the night Sherwin was killed. “That’s darts match night. He was definitely here then.”

  “But I’m not sure about the other one,” Kath said.

  “It would have been during the day,” Amy told her. “What does he do when the pub is closed?”

  “Goes down the bookies, as a rule. You should ask them.”

  “The one at the end of the street?”

  “Yeah, that and Gladwin’s on the main road. He uses them both.”

  “Does he go anywhere else? Any friends who may be able to vouch for him?”

  “No. Ray’s a creature of habit. It’s the pub or wasting his money on the horses, always has been.”

  Amy left the pub and went down to the betting shop on the corner. They knew Ray Pearce, and confirmed he was a regular, but said he hadn’t been in on the afternoon in question.

  “How can you be so sure?” Amy asked.

  “Because we were closed, love. That day and the one before, we had no electricity. The box blew. We’re lucky the place didn’t burn to the ground.”

  The manager at Gladwin’s was more helpful. He also knew Pearce and, after a quick check through his records, was able to confirm that he’d spent all afternoon propping up their counter.

  “He won two hundred quid, an amount on one of the early races and some more on a later one, and he placed a number of bets in between.”

  That meant Pearce’s alibis checked out. Amy wasn’t looking forward to telling Rachel. A breakthrough was badly needed, and the DCI was losing patience.

  Chapter Forty-seven

  Rereading statements was not a job Elwyn enjoyed but he had to satisfy himself that he hadn’t missed anything. He’d done Siddall’s and was ploughing through Rita’s when his mobile pinged. It was an email from a bank in Manchester regarding the fifty-pound notes paid to the assault victim, Tunstall, and the fragments found in Wellburn’s mouth.

  He read it through and could barely believe the words in front of him. He immediately sent the document to the printer, snatched the page and went in search of Rachel. She needed to know at once. This was dynamite.

  He found her in the canteen perusing the sandwich counter. “I don’t fancy any of them,” she said, “but I have to eat something.”

  “Breakthrough,” Elwyn announced. “That cash, the five grand and the notes found in the victim’s mouth came from an amount paid out to a bookmaker, one Gordon Swan.”

  “Do we have any more details? That’s not a name that’s come up but for some reason it is ringing bells in the back of mind. Do we know who he is?”

  “I’m about to go back upstairs and look through the system, see what I can find. This changes things,” he said. “I think we can forget the drugs angle.”

  Rachel nodded. “Get everything you can on this Gordon Swan. We’ll have a team briefing shortly.”

  “Go for the salad,” he suggested. “Those chicken ones are past their best.”

  “I don’t fancy lettuce. D’you know what?” She smiled. “I’m going to settle for a bar of chocolate and some crisps.”

  Elwyn shook his head. “Slippery slope. Think of the little one.”

  With the new information, it looked as if things were finally moving in the right direction. Elwyn returned to the incident room to find both Jonny and Amy having a quick lunch at their desks.

  “I got nowhere with Ray Pearce,” Amy told him. “His alibis are sound.”

  “I’ve got something interesting. Where’s the boss?” Jonny half stood.

  “Give her a minute or two. She’s grabbing some lunch. How interesting?”

  “I had a chat with the people next door to number forty-five, Redhill,” he said. “Pearce did the work in the cellar. They remember it well. He made a lot of noise and disturbed the whole street.”

  “That it?”

  “No. Does the name Gordon Swan mean anything to you?” Jonny asked.

  * * *

  Rachel was about to join the team when she got a call from the front desk. Nell Hennessey was waiting for her in reception. Rachel swore. She’d forgotten again. The woman was becoming a nuisance, particularly as Rachel didn’t attach much credibility to what she’d told her so far.

  Rachel went down to meet her. “Want to get a drink? The canteen is just through here.”

  Nell Hennessey nodded and followed in Rachel’s wake. “We need to talk. You must tell me everything you can about the young man who approached you.”

  “He was the same nutcase who stopped me the other night. Tall, young, jazzy trainers. Apart from that, there’s nothing to say.”

  “What did he tell you? Anything different?”

  “No. He spouted the same story. I can’t believe it. There was an investigation and an inquest at the time — the lot, in fact. I don’t know what he hopes to gain. Do you?”

  “He wants you onside. It’s all part of the scam. He wants you to believe your parents were victims to suit his own ends.”

  Rachel shook her head. “My parents were not victims, they met with a tragic accident. You can read the reports for yourself, it’s all there.”

  “You don’t have to convince me, Rachel,” Nell said.

  “I don’t understand why anyone would think it wasn’t an accident. Why would anyone want them dead? They were on a weekend away, at a hotel in Barmouth. There was nothing odd in that. They’d stayed there before. They both liked walking and were doing the Cambrian Coast in stages.”

  “If the young man contacts you again, let me know at once, Rachel. You aren’t the only person he’s targeted.”

  Rachel didn’t know what to make of it. She didn’t have the time to go into it now, but what Nell was saying made her uneasy. What if the man was right? The thought made Rachel feel sick. If there was any possibility that what had happened to her parents was indeed no accident, it should be investigated.

  “Will you help me find this lad, Rachel?”

  “I don’t know how I can. And anyway, as I said, I’m heavily involved in a murder case of my own at the moment.”

  “Okay. Once you’ve done with it, then. I work at the station in Tameside. Join me in a day or so and we’ll go through the statements and reports we’ve gathered so far and take it from there.”

  Ordinarily Rachel would not have hesitated, but in her present condition, she had other plans. “This isn’t common knowledge, Nell, so keep it to yourself. I can’t join you, or anyone else for a while. You see, for reasons I won’t go into, I’m planning to take extended leave as soon as I’ve wrapped up this c
ase.”

  Chapter Forty-eight

  Jonny Farrell brought the team up to date with what he’d learned from Arthur Michaels. “It must have been quite something for the people living on that street. Arthur said armed response attended.”

  “Armed response?” Rachel said. “The neighbours heard shooting?”

  Jonny nodded. “They were scared and rang the police, who sent the response team.”

  “Stella, you looked this one up. Anything odd about the incident?” Rachel asked.

  “It was Central that handled it, not us. The information is sketchy, no one was arrested and so the case is still open. Apparently it made all the papers and Swan’s family demanded someone be brought to book. But there was nothing to work with, no evidence, only the witness statements from the neighbours which added up to very little. The then SIO has since retired, I’m afraid.”

  Nonetheless, thought Rachel, it might be worth speaking to whoever that was. “This Gordon Swan. Who was he?”

  Elwyn took a page of notes from his desk. “Big-time bookie. Made a fortune but was cavalier about security. He believed he was better off looking after the finances himself, and that included ferrying large amounts of cash all over town.”

  “So, on this particular day he made his way to Redhill Terrace . . . for what purpose?” Rachel asked. “We could do with finding out.”

  It was an unlikely scenario. Swan wasn’t even local to Ancoats and Redhill Terrace wasn’t a street you passed through or would ordinarily even notice.

  “Swan was murdered and robbed, ma’am,” Jonny said. “Perhaps he was lured to that address.”

  That could be it. Money belonging to Swan was used to pay off Tunstall, and they knew who was likely to be responsible for that.

  “You’re thinking that Pearce, Siddall and Wellburn killed Swan?” Elwyn asked.

  Rachel nodded. “Given the information we’ve gathered over the past week or so, I think it’s a real possibility. But we need to know more about the incident at Redhill Terrace, and quick. Also, we have no motive, we don’t even know if the three knew Swan.”

  “You could speak to the SIO, see what he has to say,” Elwyn suggested.

  “Do we know who it was and where they are now?”

  “It was a DCI Lennox. After he retired, about a year ago, he moved to Spain with his wife,” Elwyn said, reading from the system.

  “For now, we’ll go with Pearce and Siddall as our main suspects, but Swan may have had other enemies and if so, who are they? I bet that tunnel had something to do with it. Otherwise, why use that particular house? Whoever did him in was familiar with the property and knew about the tunnel. I’d say that has to be why Pearce built an entrance to it from the cellar.”

  “Do you want Siddall bringing in, ma’am?” Jonny asked.

  “Yes, I do. We know the five grand used to pay off Tunstall, and the fragments found in Wellburn’s teeth, came from cash the bank paid to Swan. Siddall was party to that assault, same as Pearce.”

  “We need a time frame for that robbery,” Elwyn said. “Swan went to the house, the neighbours heard shots and armed response arrived. They must have been confused when they couldn’t find the killer.”

  “They’ll have assumed he got away,” Amy said.

  “There was CCTV,” Jonny told them. “There was no sign of anyone leaving that property. I wonder what they made of it?”

  “Well, we know what happened. Swan is shot, the money taken, and the killers scarper down the tunnel.”

  “I’ll be sure to ask Lennox when we speak,” Rachel said.

  “This murder was planned, given that it takes us back to the same set of names,” Elwyn said. “We need to find which one of them hated Swan enough to do that to him.”

  “Gavin Wellburn worked for a bookie,” Amy said. “Perhaps it was Swan. If so, he’d know about his crazy routine with the money.”

  Rachel nodded. “Check it out. Where was Swan’s main office?”

  “Salford, ma’am,” Amy said.

  Rachel considered this. “I’ll have a word with Kenton. He might know something about Swan. While I’m gone, find Dylan Healey and we’ll have another word with him about Sherwin and the drugs. The drugs element may no longer be relevant but there are still a number of missing pieces in this puzzle.”

  Rachel gathered up the case notes and made for Kenton’s office. He’d worked out of Salford nick for years, so surely, he must know about Swan.

  * * *

  Rachel entered Kenton’s office and sat down opposite him. “Mark, I need a word urgently.”

  “About the case?” Kenton asked.

  She nodded. “Gordon Swan. Does the name ring a bell?”

  He gave a deep sigh. “It does, and for all the wrong reasons. That man gave me a lot of bother over the years.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Is the information relevant to the case? Swan’s murder was investigated at the time. I hope you’re not considering re-opening that one too.”

  “No, Mark, just tell me what you know about the man.”

  “We were continually being called out to incidents at his betting shops. He was a nightmare when it came to security. He dealt only in cash and preferred to look after it himself. He kept the bag he carried the cash in chained to his wrist, silly bugger. He almost lost his hand one afternoon — a gang set about him with a meat cleaver. Fortunately for him, a member of the public rang it in, and we turned up before any damage was done.” Kenton shook his head. “That was only one of many times he needed our help.”

  “Do you know anything about his murder?”

  “Not much. Bill Lennox dealt with it. Is this going somewhere, Rachel?

  “I need this information, Mark. Just tell me what happened.”

  “I got involved in the Swan murder because Lennox asked me for advice, me knowing Swan of old. He wanted me to look over the scene.”

  “Why?” Rachel asked.

  “Lennox said it didn’t feel right. When he arrived at the house, Swan was lying on the sitting-room floor, a bullet wound in the chest. The bag he carried his money around in, one of those old-fashioned briefcases, was still chained to his wrist, but there was no money in it. What Bill couldn’t understand was how the killer got out. No one had left by the front door and it was impossible to get out the back way.”

  “You do realise which house that is?” Rachel said. “Have you read through the latest reports on the case we’re investigating?”

  “Not all of them,” Kenton said.

  “That tunnel we found our body in leads directly to the house on Redhill Terrace where Swan was found. Plus, a victim of an assault carried out by all three of our suspects was paid off using money the bank had issued to Swan. There is a definite link between the cases.”

  This information appeared to please Kenton. His eyes took on a definite sparkle. “You crack your own case and you might solve this one in the process. That’d be quite a coup for this station. Why don’t you speak to Swan’s widow, get her take on what happened? She’s still around.”

  That wasn’t a bad idea. “How is Bill Lennox likely to react to a phone call from me?” Rachel asked him. “He’s not likely to have forgotten, or developed health problems, has he?”

  “Bill will be fine. He’ll be only too pleased to help. I have his details — I’ll email them to you.” Kenton smiled.

  Progress at last, but Rachel was under no illusions. Kenton was being helpful because he wanted the glory of finally solving Gordon Swan’s murder.

  Chapter Forty-nine

  Since Ray Pearce was still in the cells, Rachel decided to have another word with him. The noise he’d been making in the house on Redhill had to have been work on the hole leading down into the tunnel.

  “Any luck with Healey?” she asked the team. “Pearce, Wellburn and Siddall are almost certainly involved in what happened to Gordon Swan, but I can’t work out where Sherwin fits in. Plus, he’s only been dealing in the Shawcross area these la
st couple of years. Prior to that, he wasn’t on the scene.”

  “Not involved, then?” Jonny asked.

  “He’s involved somewhere. He was shot with the same gun as Wellburn, remember.”

  Rachel checked her emails. Kenton had already sent through the details for Lennox. It was gone six in the evening — she’d have a drink and grab a bite to eat first and then ring him. “Stella, see if you can find an address for Gordon Swan’s wife. We need a word with her urgently.”

  Rachel went to her office and rang home. Jed answered. “I’m going to be late,” she said. “Get Mia sorted, will you? I’ll eat something here.”

  “Don’t overdo it, Rachel, it’s still early in the pregnancy.”

  “I’m fine. I’m not doing any physical work, Jed. It’s all thinking, figuring stuff out . . . but the case is doing my head in, if I’m honest.”

  “Okay. Don’t stress, we’re fine here. Megan’s back, she’s gone up to her room and doesn’t want to join us. Is that down to me, or what?”

  “It’s just Megan being Megan. She’ll have her face buried in that phone of hers. Nothing to do with you.”

  Rachel hoped she was right, and Megan wasn’t having a meltdown. Alan seemed to have gone AWOL with his new woman and Rachel wanted Jed’s arrival to be as smooth as possible. But was that asking too much?

  When she returned to the office, Stella called to her. “Flora Swan lives in Didsbury, ma’am. I’ve put her address and phone number on your desk.”

  “Thanks. I’ll ring her in the morning. For now, it’s tea, Ray Pearce then a chat with Jim Lennox.”

  “I’ll help with Pearce,” Elwyn offered. “He’s unpleasant and given to violence.”

  “He wouldn’t dare!” Rachel retorted.

  “He’s the type that just might. Better not to risk it.”

  * * *

  Elwyn was right. Ray Pearce was furious. He sat facing Rachel and Elwyn, a scowl on his face. “When am I getting out of here?” he demanded. “Wife’s in hospital and I’ve got a pub to run.”

  “Well, you shouldn’t have put her there, Ray. Wrong move that,” Rachel said.