Dead Nasty

by Helen H. Durrant

  “This could turn out to be delicate.”

  “Too right, Ruth. If Peachy’s wife—”

  “Ex-wife, sir,” Ruth interrupted.

  “Point taken. If his ex-wife, confirms the story, it could make Craig Donnelly’s conviction unsafe. Lead to all sorts of legal wrangles.”

  “Plus what you’ve been told already about the blood on the shoe. If Donnelly didn’t kill Annabelle Roper, it adds weight to the fact that he has nothing to do with Elsa or Megan.”

  Ruth was right. The news had not improved Calladine’s mood. For his own peace of mind, he was going to have to find Natalie Peach. If Livings was looking into the handling of the original case, he’d be chasing her too. Calladine could do without the entire sorry business coming crashing down around his ears.

  Ruth interrupted his thoughts. “Bookies is open and busy.”

  There were at least half a dozen blokes hanging around, watching the racing on a huge TV screen. But Liam Peach was nowhere to be seen.

  Calladine showed the girl behind the counter his badge. “Where is he?”

  She smiled at him. “Upstairs, packing. He’s off to Spain on holiday.”

  Not without a long chat and a generous helping of straight talking he wasn’t. Calladine indicated a door that opened onto to a staircase. “Up here?” She nodded.

  Upstairs, he banged on the locked door. “Peachy! Open up.”

  “What now, copper? I’m busy packing.” He said turning the key to let them in.

  “Tell me about your wife, Natalie, and her relationship with Donnelly.”

  “That’s history. Years ago that happened. I divorced her. Not because of Craig. Problem was, he wasn’t the only one. He had history too. Anything in a skirt.”

  “Do you know where Natalie is living, Peachy?” asked Ruth.

  “Lowermill, with her mother. Cottages on Meltham Road, the one with the huge extension on the front.”

  “Do you still see her?”

  “Not for months. After we divorced, we went our own ways. I send a card at Christmas, and sometimes bump into her in Oldston. Apart from that — nothing.”

  “She had an affair with Craig Donnelly. You don’t dispute that.”

  Peachy scowled. “Behind my back. Some friend!”

  “Is that why you and Donnelly fought?”

  “Don’t remember.”

  “Natalie alleges she was with Donnelly when Annabelle was killed. Were you aware of that?”

  “She’d already left me. Natalie was really into the man. She’d have said anything to get him off.”

  “So she could have lied?”

  “Too true she could. Good at that, she is.”

  “When are you leaving?”

  “Tomorrow afternoon. Can’t wait.”

  “You’re going to have to, Peachy,” Calladine said. “We will have more questions so you’ll need to stay around.”

  Liam Peach threw the bundle of clothes he’d been holding on the bed. “Bloody coppers!”

  * * *

  Rachel Hayes pulled again at the ropes that bound her to the chair. “Are you . . . awake? Can you hear me? Please, please, speak to me.” She heard another low moan. It sounded as if the girl was coming round. Had he hurt her, or was it the drugs? Rachel sobbed into the dark. “He’ll be back soon. He isn’t nice. It won’t be . . . pleasant. He doesn’t care what he does. He’s killed one of my friends, and I don’t know what he’s done with Megan.” She paused, waiting for an answer. “We’ll be next. I mean it. We have to get out of here.”

  “Who are you?” The voice was weak but Rachel heard her, and sighed with relief.

  “My name’s Rachel. I don’t know how long I’ve been here. You?”

  “Kate.”

  Rachel heard her struggling with the blanket he’d wrapped around her body.

  “He’s tied my hands behind my back and covered me from head to foot in this thing. I’m trying to get free but I can’t see anything.”

  Rachel tried to encourage her. “There’s not much light in here, you have to keep trying. We’ve got to get out. If he comes back we’ll stand no chance.”

  “Do you know where we are?”

  “No. I was on my way to school, but I don’t know when that was. I don’t remember how he got me in here.”

  “I remember getting off the train. Then nothing,” Kate replied.

  “Did you see him? Do you know who took us?”

  “No, Rachel. He was a scruffy bloke with a long coat, lots of hair and a beard.”

  Now Rachel remembered. “I think it’s the same man that took me.”

  “I can’t get my hands free! How about you?” Kate cried out.

  “I’m tied to a chair, hands and feet. I’ve been trying for hours but the rope’s too tight.”

  Kate whimpered. “If we can’t get free, we’ve no chance.”

  “I heard people outside earlier, when he brought you in.”

  “So we shout for help!” Kate said.

  “He might be close. If he comes back he’ll shut us both up — for good.”

  “We have to risk it. If it’s like you say, and he’s killed before, he’ll do it anyway.”

  Rachel was scared, and shaking with cold and hunger. What did she have to lose? She opened her mouth wide and screamed again into the damp, dark space. She screamed until she thought her lungs would burst, and Kate joined in, but any noise Kate made was muffled by the blanket. Eventually Rachel had to stop. She was gasping for breath, her face bathed in sweat. Rachel listened. All she could hear was the incessant mewing of a cat.

  * * *

  It was gone three in the afternoon. Ruth had hoped to leave early, so she could fix the tea and have Harry bathed and ready for bed before Jake arrived. Calladine didn’t have to think about the time. The clock could go round all day and all night, but still he worked.

  By now they had left the bookies. “Lowermill,” said Calladine. “A word with Natalie before we go any further.”

  “Shouldn’t we check in with the others? See what they’ve got?”

  Calladine shook his head. “If anything had come up they would have rung. Sorry, Ruth. I know the day’s getting on, but while there’s a chance that Megan Heywood is still alive we have to pull out all the stops.”

  “Rachel too,” Ruth added.

  He sighed. “I haven’t forgotten about her. Bloody case has my head screwed into a tight ball. We need a break, Ruth. Something we can make stick.”

  At that moment both their mobiles started to ring. It had to be something important. The way the case was going that could mean only one thing. Calladine and Ruth looked at each other. Both spoke at the same time — “Megan!”

  They’d guessed right. As they parked up on Taylor Street, Calladine said, “Bloody bin collections are running late today, otherwise her body would have been found a lot earlier.”

  Ruth felt sick. She’d met Megan, spoken to her. She was a young girl, one of Jake’s students. She didn’t deserve this. No one did. Ruth nodded at the gowned and masked woman stood outside number thirty-four. “Doctor Barrington.”

  The pathologist looked at them. “At first glance all I can say is that it looks the same as last time. Teenage girl, seventeen or eighteen I’d say. She is slim with long blonde hair. Left in the bin, naked, a tie around her neck. Hand and tongue as before — and this.” She showed them an evidence bag containing a note. Scrawled across it were the two words — Dead Meat.

  Calladine exhaled. “The description of the body fits Megan’s.”

  “I’ll just make sure.” Ruth moved forward. The body had been recovered from the bin and laid out on a stretcher. Ruth motioned to the SOCO, who flicked the sheet back for a moment. It was Megan. Ruth nodded at Calladine.

  Calladine sighed again. “Same man then. Anything found with her?”

  Natasha Barrington shook her head. “Nothing that helps. Clothes are missing, no jewellery. But I won’t know for sure until I get her back to the morgue.” />
  “The householders?”

  “Number thirty-four — a retired couple, Mr and Mrs Howell. One of your uniforms took the details. He’s over there.” Natasha nodded towards a young man drinking water from a bottle. He looked very pale.

  “Sorry, sir. PC Nigel Hallam. I threw up, couldn’t help it,” the constable said, his cheeks reddening.

  Calladine nodded. “The couple who live here, where are they?”

  “Mrs Howell fainted. She’s with the paramedics over there. He’s with her. He told me everything he can remember. The bin went missing Wednesday and turned up this morning, left outside at the back ready for the collection. They never noticed it was back, or they’d have looked inside.”

  “Just as well they didn’t. Does he know what happened to the bin? Who took it?”

  “No. Apparently it happens a lot. Folk blame kids. Mostly the bins end up in the canal.”

  “See if there’s a relative that can sit with them. I’ll come back later for a chat. Give them time to calm down.”

  Ruth shivered. “I’m not looking forward to telling her mother. Doesn’t get any easier, does it?”

  Calladine nodded at the gathering crowd. “He’s there again, Robert Clarke. Shouldn’t he be in school?”

  Ruth started to walk towards him, to say hello, but then stopped. “It’s weird if you ask me. I don’t understand what he’s up to. He was there when Elsa was found too. You don’t think . . . You know — that thing where killers like to hang around the crime scene? Watch reactions. Be there in the crowd when the police are recovering the body.”

  “You think it’s him?”

  It was like a light flashing on. “He knew both girls, Rachel too. He has a beef with all of them. I think he’s worth talking to, Tom.”

  “Come on then.” They walked towards Clarke.

  Ruth smiled at him. “Not working today?”

  Robert Clarke looked startled. “Oh . . . Time off — all the extra hours I’ve done. What’s happened?”

  “Don’t you know, Robert?” Ruth thought he seemed twitchy. He barely looked at them. His eyes were fastened on what Natasha Barrington was doing. Good job the area was taped off or he’d have been right in there.

  “Is it Megan?”

  Calladine looked at him. “What makes you ask that?”

  “I didn’t mean anything by it. But she is missing, isn’t she?” Clarke replied hastily.

  “Yes, it is Megan. Have you seen Rachel this last couple of days?” Ruth said.

  “No, but I know she’s missing too.” Clarke backed away slightly. “Look, I don’t know what you’re thinking, but this has nothing to do with me.”

  Ruth noted that he had no coat on. Wherever he’d come from, it couldn’t be far away.

  Calladine leaned forward and plucked a couple of hairs from Clarke’s dark blue sweater. “Cat?”

  Clarke smiled, seeming to relax a little. “Mog, my Persian. He’s moulting, hence the state of my clothes.”

  So there it was, staring them in the face all the time. Clarke had a motive, and the opportunity. Calladine brushed cat hairs from his hands. “We’d like you to come down to the station, Robert. Have a little chat.”

  They had missed it. All the signs had been there, but Calladine had been too focused on Donnelly to see them. Clarke was bullied by those girls. They’d almost driven him out of his job. Not only that, his colleagues knew all about it. For a grown man that must be mega.

  Robert Clarke stood rooted to the spot. “Why, what do you think I’ve done? This is stupid. Why are you getting heavy all of a sudden?”

  “Just a chat, Robert,” Calladine said again, and beckoned to PC Hallam.

  Chapter 19

  Calladine told her that he and Rocco would do the interview. “Ruth, it’s a big ask but would you go and see Megan’s mother?”

  Ruth nodded. It was a job she hated, but she knew that the awful news might be better coming from another woman. “I’ll speak to Jake too. Clarke was wandering about during school hours. We need to know how many times he’s done that.”

  “Ask Jake to come in. Get him to bring any of Clarke’s records that he’s got. I’ll speak to him. The interview will be official, so you can’t do it.”

  Imogen put the phone down. “Clarke’s solicitor has arrived.”

  “We’ll give them some time together before we get started.”

  Ruth was shuffling papers on her desk. “It lets Donnelly off the hook. I must admit, I was beginning to wonder.”

  “It’s still early days,” Calladine warned.

  Rocco looked excited. “You need to see this! Clarke’s details. His address is an upstairs flat on the High Street. Above the old Adams bakery.”

  It was all falling into place. Calladine looked at his team. “Where are we up to with the search?”

  “I doubt it’s even started yet, guv,” Imogen said. “Everyone available is on Taylor Street, where Megan’s body was found.”

  “In that case the interview will have to wait. Rocco, you and me will go and have a look.”

  “You’ll need keys,” said Ruth.

  “I’ll check with the custody officer. Clarke should have his door key with him.”

  Ruth shook her head. “We have no warrant in place.”

  “I believe Rachel Hayes and Kate Reynolds to be in mortal danger. It won’t wait.”

  * * *

  Dawn Heywood was distraught. A neighbour was with her when Ruth, a uniform and the family liaison officer arrived. “She’s dead? My girl? What about the bastard who did it? You had him and you let him go! If you’d done your job right, this wouldn’t have happened.” She looked at Ruth with hatred. “She was all I had. My Megan was my whole world.”

  Ruth explained. “We are interviewing someone, Dawn. Someone different.”

  “But you can’t be sure, can you? You’re useless! You dragged your heels and now my Megan’s dead. I hope you rot in hell, the whole bloody lot of you!” Dawn Heywood fell back onto the sofa with tears pouring down her cheeks.

  Ruth looked at the FLO. If this was hard, the next bit was even worse. Ruth’s voice was hardly audible. “Dawn, we’d like you to identify the body.”

  Dawn screamed at her. “You want me to look at my dead girl? See the things that animal has done to her? Got kids, have you? Could you do it? How would you feel if it was one of yours?”

  Ruth’s throat felt tight. She couldn’t answer.

  Dawn Heywood scrambled to her feet. “Get out! And you can take him with you!” She gestured at the uniform. “Until you can tell me that you have the bastard, and he’s going down, I don’t want to see you again!”

  “Is there anyone else who could identify—”

  “I said get out!”

  The neighbour spoke quietly. “I’ll do it. I’ve known Megan since she was an infant. I’m practically family anyway.”

  Ruth nodded. “The officer here will drive you. My colleague will stay with Mrs Heywood. She’ll keep you up to date with everything that happens.”

  Ruth left the Heywood house.

  “Heard all the shouting. She’s not happy.”

  Ruth replied without thinking. “What do you expect?” The bloke was press, and she didn’t know if news of Megan’s death had been officially released yet.

  “It’s true then? The girl’s dead. Still, you got him.” He smiled.

  Ruth shot him a look. He was fishing. Without another word she made for her car. She drove round the corner and parked up by the common. There she took her mobile from her pocket and rang Jake.

  “Have you picked Harry up yet?”

  “No, I thought you were doing it. I’m stuck at home with a pile of marking. Clarke’s gone walkabout again.”

  “No, he hasn’t. He’s in custody. We found Megan. It was awful, Jake.” Ruth was sobbing now, she couldn’t hold it back any longer. “She’d been murdered, like Elsa. I’ve just had to tell her mother, and she blames me. She thinks we could have stopped it, and
she could be right. We spent too much time looking in the wrong place.”

  “You’ve got Robert for the killings?”

  “Yes, he’s well and truly in the frame. It all fits.”

  “You’re joking!”

  Ruth knew Jake would not want to believe this. He’d been on the interview panel that had taken Robert Clarke on, and he’d worked closely with him ever since.

  “Calladine wants to speak to you too. He wants to know exactly when Clarke has been absent.”

  “Does it have to be right now?”

  “He will be interviewing Clarke within the hour. He could do with knowing the details of Clarke’s attendance in case he needs them.”

  “I’ll get the registers from school. Will you get Harry?”

  “Yes. I can’t face going back to the nick right now. Dawn Heywood has got me really upset.”

  “I’ll ring Tom. Where is he?”

  “I’d leave it for a while. He’s gone off with Rocco to search Clarke’s home. It could be where he’s imprisoned Rachel Hayes and another girl.”

  * * *

  Rocco put the key in the rusty lock. He had to twist and push before the door finally gave. It had swollen with the flood water. It finally juddered open, scraping along the stone floor.

  Rocco shivered. “God, it’s cold in here.”

  “And dark. Not a lot of light even with the door open.”

  The pair stumbled forward, Calladine cursing because he hadn’t brought a torch. The ceiling was low and the walls were black with the accumulated grime of years. A few yards further in, he almost tripped over the sleeping form of Kate Reynolds.

  “Rocco! Here!” he shouted. The young woman was breathing, and she stirred slightly at the sound of his voice. Calladine heaved a sigh of relief.

  “Here’s the other one!” Rocco had found Rachel.

  “Is she . . . ?”

  “She’s breathing, but very cold.”

  Kate was more fortunate. The blanket that had bound her had at least kept her warm. “Ring an ambulance,” Calladine told Rocco, as he gently woke Kate Reynolds. She started to whimper. “You’re okay, I’m police. You’re safe now.”

  He looked over to Rocco. The DC had removed his jacket and placed it over Rachel.

  “I can’t wake her, guv.”