Desolate Sands Crime Book 5 (Detective Alec Ramsay Crime Mystery Suspense Series)

by Conrad Jones

  Chapter 42

  Jim Stirling stared at the screen and then looked at the image of Geoff Ryder. He turned to his colleague and patted him on the back. “You’re right. That’s him there. No doubt about it.” Lewis clicked on the image and used the mouse to enlarge it as much as he could without losing the clarity. “I searched the land registry and New Generation Holdings have owned the real estate for nearly eight years. Geoff Ryder is retained by the company to deal with legal matters, property conveyancing and the like.” Several members of the investigation were looking on as the developments unfolded. DC Mallon approached with a tray of cups and a full jug of coffee. The detectives passed the cups along as they were filled.

  “See this one here,” Lewis pointed at the screen as he spoke. The smartly dressed lawyer was pictured in an embrace with an attractive young brunette. They were cheek to cheek, smiling at the camera. “Geoff Ryder with Tina Peters at the bar of the Dorset. They look pretty cosy there.”

  “So she came to Liverpool to visit Geoff Ryder?” Lewis mused.

  Stirling shrugged. “It gives us a positive link between Tina and Tibbs. Ryder is the link to Liverpool and obviously Richard Tibbs was an employee of theirs in some capacity, although he’s denying that.”

  “We need to know when Ryder last saw her and why he didn’t come forward when she was identified as one of the victims.” Lewis answered. “If we didn’t have Tibbs bang to rights, then we would be looking at Geoff Ryder right now.” The team exchanged glances and nodded in agreement. There was an uncomfortable silence as the implications hit home.

  “Look at it like the CPS will,” Stirling said to the group. He pointed to the evidence board for Richard Tibbs. “He brought the collar to us. He claims that Brendon Ryder dumped it, but we have no evidence to support that. Add to that the fact that Lacey Taylor’s dog was buried in his garden and he’s guilty of murder without a body.”

  “Surely Tibbs’s defense will claim that Ryder set him up by planting the dog?” Mallon played devil’s advocate.

  “We have nothing to worry about there,” Sterling countered. “He stabbed a female detective in the eye with a pen during an interview. Tibbs is the only witness to seeing a van or Brendon Ryder at the beach and he lied to us about why he was there. I don’t think that his sole testimony is enough for reasonable doubt.”

  “I think the CPS will agree with that,” Lewis folded his arms and nodded. He looked around the other detectives and no one disagreed. “But should we be looking for someone else for Tina Peters and the others?”

  “Same rules apply here then,” Stirling pointed to a picture of Breck Road before the explosion as he spoke. “Mark Weston was the lease holder and he rented the van which Kraznic was driving when he abducted Tasha Jenkins. His DNA was found on a mattress, alongside DNA from one of our victims. Kraznic pointed us towards the rear cellar where we have three more victims and he told us that he often picked up women for Tibbs. Okay, he’s dead, but his interview evidence counts in our favour, but the hammer falls with the twine which matches the twine used on the victims and he took us to Crosby Beach.”

  Alec listened to his detectives debating the information and he had to agree. It looked as if Tina Peters was inadvertently introduced to her killer by her boyfriend. There were decades between Peters and Ryder but he was a handsome man, he was wealthy and he had a never ending discounted supply of her best friend, Charlie. What he needed to know was how it all fitted together. It was another nail in the coffin of evidence which would bury Tibbs. Circumstantial or not, it all added up, but something bothered him about it. Something just didn’t fit. “I’m going to delay charging Tibbs until we’ve searched the Ryder place.”

  “Are you having second thoughts, Guv?” Lewis asked.

  “The evidence is overwhelming, but I think it would be foolish to charge him until we have finished the search. I am hoping that we might find more damning evidence to nail him.” What Alec really meant was that he wanted to be convinced, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Tibbs was the Butcher himself.

  “Better safe, Guv.”

  “You have a particular knack of winding up the Ryders, don’t you?” Alec said to Stirling. Stirling nodded and grinned. “I want you to lead this search.”

  “Okay, Guv.”

  “If Brendon Ryder is there, then I want you to push him to the limit,” Alec said calmly. “You said he was wired, so push all his buttons and let’s see what he’s wired up to.”

  “That’ll be a pleasure, Guv.”

  “The rest of you, this is a one off opportunity to search John Ryder’s house. The drug squad, vice and uniform have all been trying to get in there for years. Let’s make the most of the chance. Remember that we still need a link between Keegan and his murderer and he did business with John Ryder, although they didn’t like each other. Keegan was bumped off and now so has Ryder. Eyes and ears open; soak everything up.”

  Chapter 43

  A tree-lined avenue led the small convoy of police vehicles to Woodend, the home of the late John Ryder. There were no streetlights as the road was unadopted by the local council and the residents couldn’t be bothered hiring a contractor themselves. They had their own lights inside their grounds. All eight properties off the mile long avenue were valued in the millions, surrounded by high walls and protected by electronic gates and armies of surveillance cameras monitored acres of landscaped gardens. A few minutes research had informed Alec that the entire street was owned by three footballers, two pilots, a judge and two drug dealers. Woolton is on the outskirts of the city and it had become an exclusive area for the mega rich. Strawberry Fields, made famous by the Beatles, was a part of its heritage, as were the expansive Jewish graveyards which occupied vast parts of the outskirts of the village. The village was founded in the 1800’s by rich merchant seamen, quarry owners and Jewish money brokers. Money attracts money, Alec thought as they reached the end of the road, to be confronted by gates which were three metres high and topped with elaborate wrought iron spikes. A maneuverable camera studied the entourage as they stopped on the drive.

  “There’s a speaker box on the wall there, Guv,” Stirling pointed out. As he spoke, the gates rattled and began to open without any communication to the house. “We are expected, of course,” he joked.

  “Where are the machine-gun towers?” Lewis muttered. “Too much fucking money, in my opinion.” They crawled through the gates and a well maintained tarmac driveway weaved through the trees, then curved to the left. The main house was nearly half a kilometre further on and as they approached, reproduction Victorian gas lamps illuminated the way. “See what I mean. They say crime doesn’t pay. What a load of bollocks that is.”

  “What you have to think about is, Lewis,” Alec turned slightly to look at him, “where has all his money gotten him to exactly?”

  “Still a joke, Guv.” Lewis mumbled sulkily.

  Alec continued the lecture unabated. “He’s on a trolley in a fridge in Amsterdam, with his throat slashed. Most of his blood spilled onto a cobbled street and the contents of his lower intestine emptied into his boxer shorts before he took his last breath.” Alec held his palms upwards and shrugged. “Now I don’t have electric gates and a heated swimming pool but I should be able to draw my pension and spend a few weeks in the sun every year sipping rum from a coconut. Think about it, Lewis. Where would you rather be?”

  The trio fell silent, each with their own thoughts on the subject. The truth was that a career in drug dealing was a lucrative one, yet invariably it was also a very short one. The driveway curved around and they pulled up in front of a mock Tudor house with two wings, four bedrooms in each and a three vehicle garage built on to the right-hand side. Apart from its unusual size, it was tastefully designed and quietly unassuming. As they pulled up, Geoff Ryder opened the front doors. Floodlights turned night into day. A slate-covered porch sheltered the double door entrance. He was silhouetted by the interior lights and Alec could make out a figure lurking beh
ind him. “It looks as if Brendon Ryder is at home too.”

  “Bonus,” Stirling said, as he reached for his seat-belt “I’m looking forward to pushing his buttons.”

  “Geoff Ryder is smart,” Alec said. “Try and coax Brendon away from him if you can. I don’t think he’ll cope as well under pressure, without his uncle there to support him.” Stirling nodded and opened the door. The car shifted noticeably as he climbed out. “Jesus, I’m sure he’s putting on weight,” Alec said to himself as the vehicle shook.

  “I heard that,” Stirling said slamming the door. He breathed in subconsciously and walked towards the second vehicle. Kathy Brooks exited the passenger side and two other white-clad figures climbed from the rear. “Where are you going to start? The kitchen?” he asked. She nodded and smiled thinly. They walked towards the front door, where three more CSI officers met them. Geoff Ryder gestured for them to enter and stepped back to allow them to pass. “We need to start in the kitchen,” Stirling said to Ryder. He looked at Brendon and grinned. “Hello Brendon, nice to see you.”

  “Fuck off, fatty,” Brendon grinned back at him. He was about to speak when Geoff raised his index finger in his face.

  “You can be quiet, Brendon, or you can leave. It’s up to you,” Geoff warned him calmly. “I will not have any dramas while your mother is fighting for her life. Understand me?” Brendon tutted and walked away. “Please come in and do whatever you need to do. Anything you need, just ask me.”

  Kathy Brooks and her team entered and set down their cases. She looked around the cavernous hallway. Polished wooden floors led off in three directions. One to each wing and one headed towards the rear of the house. A wide carpeted staircase hugged the left-hand wall, snaking to a landing which overlooked the hallway. “Which way to the kitchen?”

  “Follow the corridor towards the rear. It leads directly into the kitchen. The living areas are to the right and the library and office are to the left. All of the doors are open; nothing is locked.”

  “Dad would be spinning in his grave,” Brendon sneered. He leaned against the doorway which led to the left wing, his Puma tracksuit was unzipped to the waist. “Opening the doors to the filth and he’s not even in the ground yet.”

  “He would be spinning in his grave if he thought that someone had tried to kill your mother,” Geoff turned on him. “And God help anyone who has!”

  “While I have you both together,” Alec interrupted their domestic. He smiled at both individually. “Can you account for your whereabouts yesterday?”

  “I was at work,” Geoff began calmly.

  “Brendon?”

  “How does fuck off sound to you?” Brendon snapped over the top of him. “This pussy might be happy to bend over while you do him up the arse, but my dad taught me not to talk to the pigs, unless it involved telling them to go and fuck themselves.”

  “Brendon!” Geoff shouted. “Grow up, for God’s sake!”

  “This is not your house, Uncle Geoff. Get fucked!”

  “Maybe we could talk through here?” Alec guided Geoff down the corridor towards the rear, which left Stirling strategically alone with Brendon. “This is a formality, Geoff, but we have to ask the question. You do understand?”

  “Of course,” he puffed. He didn’t look comfortable leaving Brendon but his anger had the better of his judgment. “The quicker we resolve this, the better for everyone.” They walked down the hallway and Geoff diverted them into an expansive living room. It was split level, with picture windows along one wall. Three, four seater leather settees seemed almost lost in the room. A fifty inch plasma was fitted above a well stocked bar. Alec thought it looked more like a hotel lounge than a home. “Let’s talk in here. That ungrateful little shit can fend for himself for once.”

  “He’s a difficult character to deal with?”

  “Impossible.”

  “He’s not a teenager any more, so why pander to him,” Alec tried to draw him.

  “He’s pushing thirty yet, he dresses like a schoolboy and talks like a retard. He’s not the sharpest tool in the box by any imagination.”

  “Yet he seems to be reasonably intelligent.”

  “Appearances can be deceptive, Detective. He hasn’t got the sense that he was born with.” Geoff seemed to compose himself. “I’m sure you don’t want to waste time discussing Brendon unless he becomes a suspect, so shall we crack on?”

  Alec had the impression that he was being spoon fed again; just enough to give him a taste but not enough to satisfy. “Okay, where were you yesterday?”

  “I was at work until six-thirty, all my staff can verify that I didn’t leave the office and then I came here and found Laura,” he shrugged, “I called an ambulance and you know the rest already.”

  “We’ll have to check with them, of course, but that sounds simple enough.”

  “Fine.”

  “Was Brendon home?”

  “No.”

  “Do you know where he was?”

  “I spoke to him earlier in the day and he said that he was going out drinking in town with his friends.”

  “Okay, we can check all that easily enough.”

  Geoff nodded and turned towards the door. “I’ll keep an eye on the search if you don’t mind?”

  “There are just a couple more questions,” Alec stopped him. Geoff rolled his eyes to the ceiling and sighed, but it didn’t deter Alec. “About one of the properties that John had an interest in, the Dorset in Brighton.” Recognition flashed in Ryder’s eyes and Alec spotted it. “You know where I mean, don’t you?”

  “Of course I do,” Geoff answered flatly. “You’re going to ask me about Tina Peters and my relationship with her.”

  His answer took the wind from Alec’s sails. He was hoping that he might deflect the question or beat all around the bush before answering, but he cut straight though the issue. Alec nodded and watched his eyes. “Are you aware that she was one of the murder victims found on Crosby Beach?” There was little to no reaction from Ryder. He remained calm.

  “Not until the other day when one of your detectives turned up at the Dorset,” Geoff replied. “I heard the name, but I hadn’t seen any photographs and so I didn’t associate her with the murders. I was shocked when I realised it was the same Tina.” He looked at his shoes and shook his head. His eyes seemed distant for a moment, glazed and unfocused. Alec detected genuine regret. “She was a very beautiful young woman.”

  “She was,” Alec agreed. “How long were you two an item?” Ryder’s reaction seemed genuine. He hadn’t denied knowing her which counted for a lot. “You were dating, weren’t you?”

  “Dating?” he scoffed. “Tina didn’t date anybody. She went with whoever she fancied, whenever she wanted to and then she moved on. I was one of her fancies for a while, which suited me fine. She was young and attractive, but we didn’t have a lot in common outside of the bedroom, if you know what I mean. I enjoyed being with her when she was straight, but she liked the Charlie a little too much for my liking.”

  “Did it cause problems between you?”

  “Not really. It was a casual thing. If she crossed the line, I went home without her. She was more than capable of looking after herself.”

  “When did you last see her?”

  “A few years back.” He looked thoughtful. “She came up for the weekend and we did the whole tourist thing. She was mad about the Beatles museum and Mathew Street and then she spent the rest of the weekend buzzing off her tits on coke. I was getting a little tired of financing her highs, so we had a row. I went home and she stayed in the nightclub with Brendon and some of his friends. He made sure she got on the train the next day and I never saw her again.”

  “Brendon saw her to the train?”

  “Yes.”

  “Was he alone?”

  “I don’t know, to be honest. He might have put her in a cab or got someone to give her a lift. I can’t be sure.” Ryder backpedaled. Alec saw a chink in the armour. “I hope you’re not tryi
ng to implicate Brendon in her murder?”

  “I’m asking questions, that’s all for now.”

  “He may be a massive pain in the arse, but I am retained by the family, Detective.”

  “I am not trying to trip you up. I just need to find out what happened to Tina Peters and the others.”

  “I understand,” he said calmly. “I’m sorry for snapping.”

  “Don’t worry,” Alec waved it off. “Did you ever hear from her after that weekend, phone calls, emails, text messages?”

  “I had a few text messages from her and I tried to call her when I had calmed down but the number flipped to voice mail all the time. After a few weeks, I gave up.”

  “Did you ever actually speak to her?” Alec asked. “It’s very important that you are sure.”

  “No, I didn’t and I’m positive,” Geoff Ryder looked straight into Alec’s eyes as he answered and Alec believed him. “If I’m honest, I was confused by the text messages which she sent. When I replied, she didn’t answer for days, which wasn’t like her. With hindsight they didn’t make sense and they didn’t seem like they were from her. You know what I mean?”

  “Yes,” Alec nodded. “Did she ever go to the property at Breck Road?”

  Geoff Ryder looked surprised by the question. His lips parted silently and his eyes widened. “Breck Road?” He said slowly. “Good God, no. I wouldn’t have let her anywhere near that shithole. What on earth makes you ask that?”

  Alec could see genuine surprise on his face. “Some of the other victims worked at the address for a time before they disappeared.” Alec watched the lines on his forehead deepen as he analysed the information. “Did you know any of the women who worked there?”

  “No,” he shook his head slowly and sighed. “I only ever saw pictures of the place. I did the conveyance on the property, but it wasn’t somewhere I would have put myself, purely on a professional standpoint.” He paused and put praying hands in front of his mouth. “Although the real estate value was the main reason to purchase the property, John wanted to give Brendon a start. At least, that was the plan.”