ROAD TO NOWHERE : DCI MILLER 3: Another Manchester Crime Thriller With A Killer Twist

by Steven Suttie

  “We had a long chat. She’s not interested in getting an appeal. She said she killed the man, fair and square, and she just has to get on with it. She just wants to do her time, Maureen.”

  “She’s gone mad! I knew she would. I told you, didn’t I?”

  Dan seemed to think about the question for a long time before answering.

  “I don’t know…”

  “You don’t know? Well, she’s been stitched up, been

  made to look like she’s killed that horrible wife-battering bastard, because she was jealous of their expensive car and furniture! That’s what they were saying about her Dan. And we can prove that there was a totally different story…”

  “But listen, I said all this to her. She said that… she sort of admitted that she’s having mental health issues…”

  “Told you! See, I’ve been saying…”

  “Let me finish Maureen. Just shush a minute.”

  Maureen waved her hand, allowing Dan to continue.

  “She’s becoming ill, because of worrying about you, out here, trying to sort out an appeal. She said she wants to get better, she wants to get herself better – but she can’t do it while she’s stressed about everything. So, she’s asked me to leave it.”

  “Serious?”

  “Honestly Maureen. She said she doesn’t want you to come and see her either, until you accept what she’s saying.”

  “This is total bull crap this Dan. You know it is!”

  “Well, just to remind you Maureen, I did leave my job to work on this!”

  “I know. Sorry. But she can’t just lie down and accept it. Did she seem like she meant it?”

  “Well, yes and no. She looked full of self-loathing and self-pity to me. On the one hand, I think she just wants to do her time, pay her dues. Maybe she thinks she’ll find peace…”

  “But on the other hand?” Maureen was much more interested in Dan’s other viewpoint.

  “Well…it’s got me thinking, you know…” Dan put his cup down and looked deep into Maureen’s eyes.

  “What?”

  “I told Rachel what I found out while I was round at Kev’s. About Tania’s new life in Portugal.”

  “Right…”

  “Well, I don’t think it came as much of a shock. She didn’t look that surprised, to me.”

  “Really?” Maureen looked as though the cogs were starting to whir in her head.

  “No. And, well, what if Rachel has been promised a nice sweetener for when she gets out?” Dan was staring, his eyes were intense and were locked onto Maureen’s face. She realised how intense the moment had become, and looked down at the floor. She felt a bit embarrassed.

  “What, you mean…”

  “It would explain a lot. It would explain everything in fact. Especially now, telling me to sling my hook, when we’re this far from getting a re-trial.” Dan held out his index finger and thumb, less than a centimetre separated them.

  Maureen stood, and walked slowly across to the window. She stood there silently, looking out across the massive Gameshawe housing estate. It was an enormous grid of identical houses, with identical roads and groves and walks that stretched out as far as the eye could see. She used to be able to see Rachel and Mick’s house over on the other side of the playing fields. That was before the fire. She would stand in that same spot every night and smile to herself when she watched her grandkids bedrooms lights going off at bed-time. The house was still there, of course. But it wasn’t theirs anymore, and Maureen never looked over that way now. It made her too sad. The council house work had been completed within months of the blaze, and then rented out to another family. While Rachel and Mick and the kids had been left in that tiny caravan, the council rehomed another family in their house. “It’s a smaller family,” they’d said. “We’ll find you a bigger house,” they’d said. Bastards. Maureen was still fuming about it all. It had been a total nightmare, all because of a fault on a tumble bloody dryer.

  It had been a sickener at the time, the house fire, and the caravan. But then the new house on Haughton Park came up and that was when everything was supposed to be sorted. But, on the contrary, that was when everything really did start to go wrong. After the fire, while they were all cooped up in the caravan, Maureen thought that things couldn’t get any worse for her family. But, things did get worse, and quickly too, that was what always surprised Maureen. One minute, everything looked as though it was going in the right direction, then boom! It all went about as wrong as it possibly could do. And all because Rachel wanted to help somebody out, as usual. She’s got a heart of gold. Maureen lit a cigarette and stayed put at the window, watching a jumbo-jet coming in to land at the airport.

  “I can’t see it. Honestly Dan, she knows that I’ve been worried sick. She’d have said summat.” Maureen was cuddling herself with her arms wrapped around her torso, although she didn’t realise that she was doing it.

  “How could she though? Those prison officers are breathing down your neck in that visitor’s room.”

  “She could have said summat Dan. Truthfully, she’s had plenty of opportunities to tell me to calm down. We have a look we give each other. She’d have said, you know, don’t worry about it, it’s going to be alright, and then she’d have given me the look. And I’d have gone “oh, right,” with my look. And she’d have nodded, and said “yes,” with her look back at me. But she hasn’t done.”

  “So you don’t think there’s any chance, then?”

  “Well… Don’t get me wrong, I’d like to think so, it would make a lot of sense, love.”

  “But?”

  “Well, number one, if that was the case, and it was all a big conspiracy, why would Rachel look so shit? And so scrawny. She looks like that Victoria Beckham when I go and visit. I just want to bring her home and feed her up…”

  “Well, I don’t know. But there was something else she said, something that made me think that there was something iffy going on.”

  Maureen turned round and looked over at Dan. He looked deflated and worn out. It was a shame, he was such a lovely young bloke, and Maureen really liked the lad. It was so good of him, trying to sort all this out, all off his own back as well. Nobody had ever asked him to get involved.

  “What did she say?”

  “She said she really appreciated everything that I’ve been doing, and when she gets out, she’ll come and find me and thank me properly.”

  “Well, that’s our Rachel, love. She just means she wants you to know that she’s grateful. She’ll probably bring you an ornament she’s made in pottery class or summat.”

  “You don’t think that she’s going to give me a few grand out of her stash then?”

  Maureen laughed, really loudly. She felt rude, but Dan’s latest theory really tickled her. “Listen love, I’m sorry for laughing. It’s not you, its just… you don’t really know our Rachel, do you? She’s as tight as a drum. She used to be able to undo Opal Fruit wrappers in her pocket. Nobody would ever know she had a packet until she spoke and you’d smell them on her breath.” Maureen stubbed the fag out in the ashtray and pulled her window shut. She was still grinning as she sat back down in her chair.

  Dan didn’t look impressed at all. He was starting to regret getting involved in this whole carry-on, and the realisation shook him. He’d never felt like this, not since the first day, when that ice-cold, heartless bitch Suzanne Ashworth had stood outside that court, lying through her teeth about Rachel and her fellah, Mick. Dan had been incensed, having gotten to know Rachel and Mick quite well through his work at the council, and their rehousing needs. He knew that it was all a load of nonsense, and he came out, all guns blazing, from that day onwards, sure in his heart that there was a much bigger story.

  Of course, Dan was to learn that Rachel and Mick had made a total pig’s ear of everything, from beginning to end. But he understood that, he empathised and he factored it in. Why wouldn’t they cock it all up? After all – they weren’t criminals. How would they k
now the correct way to cover up a manslaughter? And why did they try and let Mick take the blame? How did they think they’d get away with that? Why not go to court with the true story and hope that the jury will realise that the worst crime these people were guilty of was being stupid fucking idiots.

  Well, that’s how it was in Dan’s eyes, anyway. That’s what he had been determined to try and make happen. But now, what with Rachel’s plea to be left alone, and now Maureen looking as though she’d dropped the ball, Dan felt a very strong desire to just chuck the towel in, and put this whole, desperate episode down to experience. Maybe he could write a book about it, like that bitch Suzanne Ashworth was apparently doing. He drank the last bit of his brew, and thought of a title for his book. Why I gave up my twenty-five grand a year job to try and help get a pair of absolute fucking morons out of jail. Nah, that wasn’t going to be catchy enough, he mused.

  “Right, Maureen,” Dan stood. “I’m going to get off. I think we need to draw a line under it all. If that’s okay?”

  Maureen looked slightly embarrassed for a moment. She sat there for a few seconds and stared up at her visitor, and felt a pang of sadness. That was sudden, and unexpected. Although, to be fair, based on what Dan had been saying, it was what Rachel wanted. Maureen was crying, as she stood and cuddled him. They weren’t the usual tears of anger and despair and frustration, the type of tears that Dan was all too familiar with seeing on the face of Rachel’s mother. These tears were softer, kinder, and peaceful.

  He was such a lovely lad, she thought, as she held on, ignoring the fact that she had got tears all over his jacket. She was going to miss having him around. She was going to miss his energy and enthusiasm, and his up-and-at-them, lets-have-a-go attitude. But she had no fight left. She needed to focus her energies elsewhere. To make a little bit of “me time,” as Sandra had kindly, and quite forcefully pointed out. There were no words. Maureen couldn’t think of a plea, or a rant that might change things. This felt like the two had arrived at a crossroads, and they both knew that it was now time to part their ways.

  “I’ll send a letter to your mum. Telling her what a lovely young man you are.” She said, through more tears, as Dan disappeared out of the flat, and out onto the stairwell. He had a tear in his eye too, but Maureen didn’t know. The only thing going through Dan’s mind, as he stepped quickly down the endless flights of stairs, was the smell of death. Somebody must have died in one of the flats. He hadn’t picked up on the smell on the way up, but now that he was descending and flowing into the draft, the smell was

  unmistakable. He held his breath until he reached the bottom step, then launched himself out of the exit door and took in a huge gasp of air of Gameshawe estate’s fresh air. He took his phone out of his pocket and looked up his old colleague from the housing, Nicole. He pressed the call icon and the call connected.

  “Hello stranger!” said Nicole, she sounded genuinely delighted. “We’ve just been talking about you! How weird is that?”

  “Hiya, how you doing, you alright?”

  “Yeah. Better than you by the sounds of things, what’s up?”

  “Oh, I’m just a bit out of puff, just legged it down the stairs of a block of flats on Gameshawe. Listen, do you remember when we had that dead body in that flat last year?”

  “God Dan, how could I forget that?” Nicole made a retch noise down the phone. It made Dan smile. “So is that what you phoned for? To ask me that?”

  “No, don’t be a dick. I’m phoning because I’ve just smelt that same smell. So you need to get something sorted.”

  “Dan, can you just completely fuck off? I’m just going to pretend I haven’t heard that. I’m checking the computer for late rent, I don’t want to hear about your rotting corpses. Phone it into the town hall if you’re that arsed!”

  “I thought you’d want to…”

  “You liar! You know I wouldn’t want to know about that. So don’t be such an awful man! What do you want?”

  “That…”

  “You liar! God, you’re so full of shit Dan.”

  “What were you saying about me, anyway?”

  “Oh it was Glenda, she was saying that she wished you hadn’t gone off on your mercy mission. She said she misses you!”

  “Fuck off. Glenda said that?”

  “I know. Anyway, she said, if I bump into you, to tell you to give her a call. I think she wants to apologise about, you know.”

  “Bullshit Nic. You’re having me on.”

  “Don’t be daft. Why would I? Honest, she said the place feels weird without you, and your strange outfits.

  Anyway, I’ve done my bit – I’ve passed the message on.”

  “So she just wants to talk about how much I fucked up?”

  “What…wait, what makes you say you effed up?” Nicole sounded genuinely stunned.

  “Oh, mate, long story. But the end bit is that I went to see Rachel today, and she told me to leave it, just back off. So I’m now sacked from my voluntary job!” Dan sounded gutted, but in his typical style, he sounded as though he was smiling about it at the same time.

  “Aw Dan. Mate, that’s unbelievable. Shit. Does she know what a sacrifice you’ve made, I mean, she knows you left your job to help her?”

  “Yes, obviously, course she does. But she said it’s these kind of things that are making her ill, mentally – and she said she just wants to get on with the prison time, and put it all behind her.” Dan sounded gutted and Nicole really felt for him. She knew how much this meant to him, how much he’d been enraged by the Neighbours From Hell shambles.

  “Ring Glenda. Do it. In fact, no, just come down and see her now. Where are you, Gameshawe?”

  “Yeah, Ian Curtis Court.”

  “Right, well, kettle's on. Ten minutes, and I’ll go and tell her that you’re coming to see her. And that you are looking for a job.”

  “No, wait… Nic…” The line was dead.

  *****

  Dan Parker felt ridiculous walking into the Bury council offices, with his tail firmly between his legs. But despite the sense of failure, and stupidity, it still felt safe and sterile. These past few months, out in the wilderness, it had been a lonely, often scary experience. Dan had never realised how much he valued the safety and security of his job at the council, until after he’d left there on his maverick crusade.

  “Hiya Barbara, how are you?”

  “Oh God, look what the cat’s dragged in!” said the receptionist, clearly delighted to see the visitor.

  “Cheeky bugger!”

  “I’m alright thanks Dan, lost another two pounds at slim-gang.”

  “Oh, right, nice one. You’re looking really good Barbara.” She wasn’t.

  “Aw, thanks Dan. I’m aiming for another three stones at least, and then they’ll reconsider me for the gastric band.”

  Dan was saved from continuing with this awkward conversation by the sight of his old supervisor and work-mate, Nicole. She appeared, arms folded from the staff entrance at the side of the reception desk, and shot Dan a playful look of anger.

  “Right you, stop flirting with Barbara, and get your butt upstairs.”

  Dan laughed, and smiled at Barbara. “See you later, and keep up the good work!”

  “Aw thanks Dan. See you love.”

  Dan followed Nicole through the staff door and laughed at Nicole’s expression. “You’re in there Dan. Barbara wants a bit!”

  “Don’t be a knob!” said Dan, blushing.

  “Women’s intuition mate.” Nicole tapped her nose.

  “God, I was starting to think I was missing you… and now I’m starting to think I hate you again!”

  “Alright Dan? How’s it going?” asked a colleague on the stairs.

  “Oh, hi not bad, you?”

  “Aw, you know, same shit, different day.”

  Dan walked up a few more steps, before another council worker passed by. “A’right Dan I thought you’d left?”

  “Oh, hiya, yeah, well, I have�
�”

  “He’s just come to flirt with Barbara!” said Nicole.

  Eventually, Dan and Nicole arrived on the third floor, and the Housing Department where Dan had been employed since leaving university, seven years earlier.

  “Come on,” said Nicole, as she stood clutching the door handle. “It’s time to have the piss taken right out of you!”

  Chapter Forty-Five

  DCI Andrew Miller was beginning to relax a little. His depression was his secret, and the more that he thought about it, the more that he acknowledged its existence, the more powerful it became. Big distractions were an enormous help, and things were getting going at quite a pace now in the “Manchester Man Hunt” as Sky News had dubbed the search for Peter Meyer.

  The day was progressing well. After his team brief, and his trip to Tameside police station in Ashton, Miller had visited the CID department at Salford Division, and had found positive results there too. Overall, Miller was content with the work that Salford had been doing in the search for Sergeant Knight’s murderer. Miller had been required to give them a few pointers, and he’d had to take one of their detectives off a task which was duplicating Ashton CID’s work – but on the whole, the DCI there had taken it well, he’d been very co-operative and Miller was impressed. He was pleased with the growing feeling that Meyer’s time on the run was nearly up. He felt sure that if Meyer was still in the Greater Manchester area, he was going to be picked up at any moment. He was absolutely confident of it.

  Miller parked his car outside Mel Meyer’s sister’s house in Irlam. He looked across at the front window and saw that he had been spotted by somebody inside the property, as they moved away from the window. Miller glanced across the road and nodded at the two plain clothes officers that were sat inside their unmarked police car. They nodded back, and Miller felt sorry for them, having to sit there for nine hours a day keeping an eye on the house and watching out for an appearance by Britain’s most wanted man.

  Miller got out of his car and reached back inside to grab his bag. As he locked the car door and started walking down the drive to visit Mel Meyer, he saw that she was stood on the doorstep.