by Conrad Jones
“I check the information daily,” Annie agreed. “No phone calls and no activity on his bank accounts. He has simply disappeared.”
“Now we have cast iron proof, we can crank up the media campaign. I hope he’s become complacent, because I’m going to make sure that his face is on every television screen and front page from lunchtime until doomsday. Somebody must know where he is.”
Chapter 45
Annie Jones sat patiently and tried to ignore the receptionist who repeatedly walked past the doorway to look at her. She couldn’t have made it anymore obvious if she had tried. Annie thought that the white eye patch was less striking than the black one, but it had obviously fascinated the young lady who worked on reception at Ryder, Lawrence and Barclay solicitor’s office. The waiting room had been furnished by someone who loved Ikea; Annie recognised the bookshelf and coffee table from the last catalogue she had seen, as were the prints on the walls. She glanced at her watch and wished that there was a window to look out of. The stack of legal magazines and glossy gossip publications held no interest for her. She took out her phone and scrolled back through her emails, making a mental note of which ones to prioritise when she finally had some admin time. Most of her admin was restricted to her settee with a bar of Dairy Milk and a large glass of Shiraz.
“Hello, Annie,” the familiar voice of Geoff Ryder greeted her. “I’m so sorry that you’ve been kept waiting, but one of my best clients promised to settle his account this morning. I couldn’t really take his cheque and then bum rush him out onto the street.”
His presence brought with it the scent of Hugo Boss. Annie knew that it was the one in the red bottle, although she couldn’t remember its name. “It’s no problem. You look like you have put some weight on,” Annie said. “In a good way obviously, you looked ill the last time we met.”
“Thank you, young lady,” he said with a theatrical bow. “I have been visiting the gym again. The pain has become more manageable but I’m getting there slowly,” he said smiling. Annie thought that he had had his teeth whitened. His suit was immaculate and a crisp white shirt was open at the collar. “Please come through. Can I get you a coffee? Milk and two sugars, right?”
He gestured to the nosy receptionist and she nodded that she understood. “I’ll bring it right in,” she mumbled staring unashamedly at Annie.
“Good memory,” Annie replied. She leaned over the reception desk and smiled. “It isn’t a fashion accessory,” she whispered to the young girl, as she passed. “I really am a pirate.” The girl looked as if she had been slapped, as Annie followed him through reception and into his office.
“Please forgive our secretary,” Geoff smiled coyly. “She’s an agency placement. Finding someone who doesn’t mind turning in Monday to Friday, being civil to our clients and being able to speak English is becoming more difficult.”
“Ah, the dreaded ‘agency’, that would explain it,” she smiled. “She’s forgiven.”
“They were called job centres in my youth, but now I believe the job centres have no jobs to advertise.”
“No,” Annie agreed. “The agencies have all the jobs.”
“Therein lies my dilemma,” he walked around his desk as he spoke. “I hope you don’t mind me saying, but I love the white eye patch,” he smiled charmingly. “It suits you. Please take a seat.”
“I’m not quite Gabrielle, but I’ve got used to it,” she blushed a little as she spoke. “It feels strange to take it off now.”
“We have to adapt, don’t we?” Geoff said, as he sat down behind his desk. “It amazes me how resilient the human condition can be. I honestly thought that Laura would implode after all that happened, but she dealt with it better than I did.” He paused and made a steeple with his fingers. “Are you here about Brendon, or do you need legal representation?” The door opened and the receptionist walked in and placed a cup of hot coffee next to Annie. “Thanks, Tammy.” He waited for her to leave before continuing. “Seriously, how can I help?”
“We found another body,” Annie said bluntly. His face twitched as if he had a sharp pain in his tooth. A flinch like when metal hits a filling. She was surprised by his reaction. Surprised and confused.
“Oh, dear God.” He whispered. “At the beach?”
“Yes,” she studied his face. “It was the body of Lacey Taylor.”
“Really, now that does shock me.” he sat forward sharply and frowned. “Wow.” His reaction confused Annie. His surprise was faked. She was sure of that but she couldn’t understand why he would overreact. “On the bright side, if I may suggest that there is a bright side in all this, at least her family has some closure.”
“They were prepared for the worst but it was still a terrible shock for them, especially her daughter.”
“I am assuming that you are looking for Brendon in connection with this new finding?”
“Yes,” Annie sat forward as she spoke. She folded her hands over her exposed knees. His eyes were drawn to her thighs momentarily. She shuffled uncomfortably. “We’re not looking for anybody else in connection with her murder.”
“What makes you so certain that Brendon killed her?” He frowned. “I am aware that Richard Tibbs was your prime suspect for a time.”
“That was largely because her dog was buried in his garden,” Annie said flatly.
“Yes, of course it was.”
“Buried there by Brendon.”
“Clearly.”
“We found Brendon’s DNA under her nails and inside her. She was raped.” She paused as he took in the information. His eyes narrowed and he took a sip of water from a chunky glass. His shoulders seemed to dip, as if he was suddenly tired, or as invisible hands pressed down on him. “The MO is the same as the other victims which we found at Crosby Beach.”
“The Butcher’s victims?” He said aghast.
“I’m afraid so.”
“That poor woman,” he shook his head. “So there is now no doubt that Brendon is the Butcher?”
“None,” Annie said. An awkward silence settled between them. “Have you or his mother heard from him?”
“Not a word. I can assure you of that. My phone records are always available for you to check.”
“Thank you,” Annie said. “What about Laura; can you be so sure about her?”
“As sure as I can be.” He paused to think about his next words. “This has been very difficult for her, but she has been surprisingly resilient. Laura is under no illusions about Brendon’s position. She is disgusted by his actions but she is still a mother. She wants him locked up, but alive.”
“And you’re convinced that she hasn’t heard from him?”
“Nothing,” he said sincerely. Annie believed him. His eyes didn’t flinch. “If we had, then you would have been the first person that I would have called. I want him caught for his own safety, Detective.” She noted that his use of her first name was omitted. “And there is no doubt that the DNA belongs to him?”
“None.”
“You know how dreadful I feel about all this.” He shook his head and sighed into his hands. “John knew that he wasn’t right in the head and he knew that something bad had happened at Breck Road, but he never divulged his suspicions to me fully.” He was almost choked by his words and his eyes filled. The display of emotion wasn’t lost on Annie. “I don’t suppose he could tell me that he thought his stepson was a stone cold killer, really, could he?” He paused at the painful memories of his beloved cousin. “Jesus, he would be devastated if he had been alive to witness this. John was no angel, but this?”
“I know that this must be very painful for the family, but we’re about to launch a huge media campaign to find him.”
“I see.” His eyebrows were raised in concern. “I appreciate you informing me. At least I can warn Laura to avoid the television.”
“It might be wise,” she nodded her agreement. “There’s to be a Crimewatch Special tomorrow night and of course the big news channels are already carryin
g the story. The nationals are leading with his photo and the Echo and local rags will follow suit. Momentum is building, so if he’s still alive then we’ll find him.”
“Good. The family wants an end to this.”
“We have been waiting for Brendon to make a mistake and reveal his whereabouts, but he has fallen off the planet.” She tilted her head and watched his reaction. “He is abroad, dead, or he’s being helped by people far more intellectually gifted than he is. We know that he isn’t stupid but he couldn’t mastermind disappearing. I need to be completely clear on this,” she paused, “are you or his mother hiding him?”
Geoff Ryder sat back and whistled through his teeth. He grimaced and then smiled thinly. “I can understand why you would think that. He has surprised us all, to be honest. He has been spoon fed and led by the hand from the day he was born. How he has survived on his own wits is beyond us!”
“John was a powerful man, with contacts both here and abroad.”
“Absolutely right, but they were contacts that would have jumped through hoops to help John, but not Brendon.” He shook his head emphatically. “John tried to introduce him into the business but he was a square peg. I can’t think of one single person who warmed to Brendon, in fact he managed to generate quite the opposite reaction. People disliked him immensely.”
“What about outside of the family circle?”
“The same. He had no friends at school or college. His achievements were none existent but he had a knack of causing trouble. He lived on his stepdad’s reputation.”
“I thought he had a group of friends who he drank with in town?”
“No,” Geoff laughed. “He was so desperate for friends that he would buy everybody’s drinks for their company, but he wasn’t liked. Nobody offended him because of who he is.” Geoff paused and rolled his eyes skyward as if something had just dawned on him. “Wait a minute! There was one friend, Gary.”
“Gary who?”
Geoff tapped his fingers on the desk and screwed his eyes tightly closed. “Gary, Gary Gary.” He shook his head. “Bloody hell, it has slipped my mind.”
“Take your time.”
“Bissell!” he slapped the desk top. “That’s it, Gary Bissell like the carpet cleaning machines!”
Annie sat forward and took out her mobile. “Gary Bissell, and where did he live?”
“Don’t get excited,” Geoff said raising his hand to stop her. “He died in a boating accident, a year or so back. They recovered his body from the sea near Heswall, or what was left of him, anyway.”
“Boating accident?”
“I think so.”
“What type of boating accident?”
“I can’t remember. They think he had been hit by a propeller. It was a small piece in the Echo.”
“What was he doing in the river?”
“That was never explained.”
“Where did he live?”
“Formby, if I remember rightly.”
“That’s a stone’s throw away from where we found Lacey Taylor.”
“It’s a stone’s throw away from Crosby Beach too,” Geoff shrugged. “Do you think that there’s a connection?”
“I don’t know, but it could be very useful. Thank you,” Annie said, standing up. “I need to call his name into the station and get an address. Thanks for the coffee.” She smoothed her pencil skirt and straightened her jacket as she stood. Geoff ran his eyes over her admiringly. “I’ll be in touch.”
“Of course, Annie,” Geoff held out his hand as he stood. “Nice to see you again. You take care. I hope you find him soon.”
Chapter 46
Janice Nixon pushed her shopping trolley along the meat aisle. The refrigerators made the air uncomfortably cool so she walked quickly. She could have gone faster but for the front left wheel, which wobbled annoyingly when she picked up speed. It was like having a restrictor on it. Maybe they did it on purpose, she thought, so that you could only travel at browsing speed. Being six months pregnant had changed their grocery list dramatically. Jim Stirling still ate his beloved spicy curries but they had both cut back on red meat, caffeine and alcohol. Their romance had been a whirlwind but for the first time in her life she finally felt as if all the trauma of her previous experiences were behind her. Janice hadn’t worked the streets since the first night they went out for a beer and a curry. In fact, she had only been back to her crappy flat twice; once to get her stuff and the second to hand back the keys and take the utilities’ meter readings. Within two weeks of meeting Jim, she was totally clean of drugs. A month later, she had a job at the local supermarket. She gave up smoking and began to see her family every Sunday. After the first visit, which was understandably emotional, it was as if she had never been away from them. Her life as a drug addicted whore seemed to belong to another and her memories of those dark days faded fast, although they were still there taunting her. In the darkest moments of the night, they came to her and warned her what still awaited if she screwed up.
Six months later she was absolutely sure that she had ruined everything and terrified that Jim Stirling would kick her back into the gutter where he had found her. When she realised that she was three weeks late, she panicked. She had always been regular, even when she was on the drugs. Her menstrual cycle was like clockwork. She berated herself for getting caught and dreaded telling him. She envisioned him flipping out and telling her that he wasn’t the paternal type. He wasn’t. She knew that and she should have been more careful. He was a detective in one of Britain’s toughest cities. His career was his wife; his colleagues, beer and football were his family. She was amazed that they had fallen in love as hard and as fast as they had, but fall they did. The thought of losing him made her feel physically ill. It took days of agonising over telling him or having the baby aborted secretly but she couldn’t do that. She would rather have become a single mother. She eventually gathered the courage to tell him and in typical Jim Sterling fashion he had surprised her with his reaction. Her ribs had been sore for three days he had hugged her so hard. They were married at a civil ceremony, a month to the day that she told him, and the rest was history.
Here she was filling a basket with their favourite foods and considering what nutritional value they had for their unborn child. She had a craving for Marmite, which prior to being pregnant, she hated. The week before, she had eaten a family sized jar by herself. Deciding whether to buy one jar or two was the most pressing decision that she had to make at the moment. Life had gone full circle for her. She had been to hell and back without actually dying. Now she was in a place which only a few really found. A place where that initial burning passion and unswerving attraction never faded. Many experience it fleetingly, but for most the intensity fades at some point without your knowledge and never returns. You look back one day and think, ‘When was the last time we made love all night without once thinking about sleep?’ Or the sudden realization that you no longer get butterflies in your stomach when they walk into the room; the white hot burning of sexual attraction which for most is unsustainable for more than a few months. It fast becomes a warm cosy place where comfort and companionship try to fill the emotional void but fail miserably. They were the lucky ones. Janice was enveloped in a love that she had never felt before. The thought of becoming a mother only added to her euphoria.
Janice floated up and down the aisles never giving a thought to the cost of the goods. Money had always been the only driving force in her life. She had barely managed to exist before. The drugs stole every penny that she earned. Now she could buy what they needed without worrying. They weren’t rich by a long chalk, but they didn’t need to scrimp either. She put four tins of Boddingtons into the trolley as a treat for Jim. She was carrying their baby, so it wouldn’t hurt if he had a few tins while he watched the football. There was no need for them both to abstain totally. A smile touched her lips as she pictured him on the settee shouting at the referee. When she had gathered everything on her list, the trolley was half f
ull. She made her way to the shortest queue and quickly decided that the girl on the checkout was in the wrong job. She was a rusty coloured automaton with blusher and lip gloss on. Each fingernail was a miniature work of art and her eyelashes would have looked at home on a camel.
“Do you need any carrier bags?” She asked in a monotone voice without looking up.
“Yes please,” Janice replied as she loaded her shopping onto the conveyor belt. She wondered how she was going to get six litres of milk and four tins of Boddingtons into a carrier bag and then into the house without making multiple journeys to and fro.
“Disposable or bags for life?”
“What?” Janice laughed.
“Disposable carrier bags, which are five pence or canvas bags for life, which are seventy pence?” She scanned the goods faster than Janice could pack which caused the shoppers behind her to grumble as they waited for conveyor belt space.
“The bags for life aren’t really bags for life are they though?” Janice said sarcastically. “They are more like bags for the week, aren’t they?”
“I don’t make them, luv,” the assistant chirped. “I just scan the stuff and take the payment.”
“I can see that.”
“Which is it to be then?”
“Disposable please,” Janice tried a smile as she shovelled her shopping into the trolley as fast she could. Her back ached as she paid for her goods and then packed them into her newly purchased carrier bags. Although she enjoyed the experience of foraging for her man, the baby was taking her strength and shopping made her weary. With her trolley packed, she headed for the exit. Outside was grey and blustery; the storm had almost blown itself out. A light drizzle fell and she shivered at the memory of freezing on her street corner. Sympathy squeezed her insides as she thought of the others stood in the rain, waiting for a punter to come along. Sometimes the memories haunted her but they came to her less frequently now. She pushed the trolley to the back of their Mazda and used the fob to click open the boot.