Concrete Evidence; Crime Book 6 (Detective Alec Ramsay Crime Mystery Suspense Series)

by Conrad Jones

  “Probably.” Graff ticked his list. “The ball bearings and petrol canisters?”

  “He planted them all when I was in Benidorm.” Tod paused. “And the underwear, all of it!” Tod filled up with tears. “He told me to leave the country for a few days so I did. I thought it was just to avoid getting pulled but looking back, he knew what he was going to do didn’t he?”

  “That is what we’re going to pitch to the police. He has the knowledge to carry out all of this and his recent spate of criminal behaviour shows that he is more than capable of organising a setup.”

  “He is capable of anything. He said that he would kill my mum and he did!”

  “Okay, Tod,” Graff packed his papers away. “I’ll get this information to the DI immediately. This changes your position dramatically. I think the police will have a lot of questions for you and my advice is to tell them everything that you can. The more you can put onto Peter Barton, the better for you, understand?”

  “Yes.” Tod said meekly. “He’ll have me killed, I know he will. He’s a psycho.”

  “You’ll be safe here, Tod. I’ll speak to the governor personally and make sure that they protect you.” Graff looked at the prison officer. “If there’s so much as a hair on his head ruffled before his court case, I’ll bring personal law suits against any officer on duty. I suggest you spread that amongst your colleagues.” Graff nodded his head and his jowls wobbled. The prison officer scowled and his face reddened. “Now please escort my client back to his cell. I’ll be in touch very soon, Tod.”

  “Thanks,” Tod said. He breathed a massive sigh of relief. “Thank God someone believes me at last.” Graff picked up his briefcase and headed for the door. “There’s a chance although it is slim, that we could get all but the rape charges dropped.” Graff said as he opened the door. A tear ran from Tod’s eye and Graff smiled thinly. He was unsure if he was fighting for justice or not.

  CHAPTER 47

  Alec pulled up to an ornate set of wrought iron gates that were designed with security in mind rather than decoration. High walls ran in both directions as far as the eye could see. He wound down his window and pressed a buzzer for the intercom.

  “Drive up Alec,” the familiar voice of Laura Ryder greeted them. He turned to Annie and smiled as the gates parted slowly.

  “CCTV,” Alec commented. “The place is still like a fortress.”

  “I can’t blame her considering who her husband was.”

  “True.”

  “I always felt sorry for her.” Annie said looking out of the window. “Poor woman lost everyone she loved.”

  “She doesn’t sound worried to see us,” Alec said.

  “Why would she be?”

  “Her late husband being a drug dealer, her son being a serial killer?”

  “Hardly her fault though is it?”

  “If the police had shot my son dead, I would be concerned if they came knocking on my door even if it is four years later.”

  “I wouldn’t,” Annie shook her head. “I would assume it was a follow up or something new had come up.”

  “Must be a woman thing,” Alec laughed. “Or maybe the job makes me paranoid.”

  They relaxed a little as they drove up the long crescent shaped driveway towards the house. A brand new Porsche was parked in front of the double garage. The private plate read LT1. Annie frowned and looked at Alec. He shrugged and raised his eyebrows. “She changed her name?” Annie asked.

  “Maybe,” Alec said bringing the car to stop at the front door. “She might have remarried.”

  Laura opened the front door and smiled at them. She held out her hand. “You look well, Annie,” she said looking at her prosthetic eye. “You’ve healed well; you look as beautiful as ever.”

  “Thank you,” Annie blushed. She had to admire how straightforward she was. There were no false graces about her. “You haven’t aged at all,” Annie returned a compliment.

  “Well I could tell you that I don’t smoke or drink and that I make my own smoothies and bathe in vitamin c but that would be bollocks,” she winked at Alec. “Botox every six months!”

  “You do look well,” Alec said taking her hand. “Maybe I should try some.”

  “It is good Alec but it can’t produce miracles.” She winked again. Annie smiled and Alec nudged her with his elbow. “Come in. Can I get you a drink?” she asked. She led them into a huge L shaped living room. Panoramic windows gave a view of the expansive grounds.

  “I’m fine thank you,” Alec declined.

  “Not for me,” Annie shook her head, “we really don’t want to take up much of your time.”

  “I presume that you haven’t come to sell me a ticket to the policeman’s Christmas ball so what can I do for you?”

  “We found two more bodies on Crosby Beach,” Alec got straight to the point. “Two young boys.”

  “Boys?” Laura looked confused. “Oh dear,” Laura said quietly. “I’m not sure how I can help.”

  “Do you recognise either of these men?” Annie handed her two photographs.

  Laura studied them and shook her head. “No. should I?”

  “We wondered if either of them were friends of Brendon.”

  “No. I don’t think so but then I didn’t know all his friends,” she paused. “In fact I didn’t know much about him at all did I?”

  “It was a long shot but we had to ask, sorry to drag the whole thing up for you again,” Alec apologised.

  “Don’t apologise you have a job to do. Brendon was a sick man and he paid for it with his life,” she smiled thinly. “The rest of us have to get on with it. Especially me!”

  “I noticed the plates on your car,” Annie changed the subject tactfully. “Did you change your name?”

  “Always the detective, Annie. There’s no getting anything by you is there!” She held up her ring finger. “And it’s not what you think either. I took my maiden name Thomas back.” She shrugged. “I have lost two husbands and a son to the Ryder name, enough is enough. I wanted a clean break, a new start.”

  “I don’t blame you,” Annie said looking around. There were no pictures of any of the family anywhere. “It’s the least you deserve.” She paused and smiled. “Do you see much of Geoff at all?”

  “Geoff?” Laura looked surprised. “I haven’t seen him for about three and a half years.” Her face seemed blank, from the look in her eyes, she had drifted off somewhere else. “We fell out not long after the funeral.”

  “Do you mind if I ask why?”

  “Do you mind if I ask why you want to know?” There was an edge to her voice now.

  “We want ask him about these men.” Annie lifted the photos. “We checked his old address but he doesn’t own the property anymore.”

  “He sold that place years ago.”

  “His office told us that he was on extended leave.”

  “He’s a wealthy man. Why go to work when you don’t need to.”

  “What happened between you?”

  “He made a move on me,” she rolled her eyes. “He took my need to lean on him the wrong way and he took the rejection very badly. He walked out and I haven’t heard from him since.”

  “Do you know where we could find him?”

  “No but I can tell you that he was always talking about travelling. I heard that he wanted to relocate.”

  “Do you know where?” Alec asked.

  “I believe he bought a villa in Spain somewhere and he planned to drive across the continent and maybe explore the Far East but I haven’t heard anything since.”

  “Do you know where in Spain?”

  “Not a clue. He may be back I really don’t know and to be honest, I don’t care. If I never see another Ryder in my life it will be too soon.”

  Alec nodded and rubbed the dimple in his chin. “I understand, Laura, thanks for speaking to us.”

  “You’re welcome,” she smiled although there was no warmth in it. “I’ll show you out.” Annie felt awkward as they walke
d back to front door. They hadn’t been there long but they had already outstayed their welcome. The warmth that she had had in her eyes when they arrived was gone. She opened the front door and looked down at the floor as they walked past her.

  “Thanks again and good luck,” Annie turned as she stepped outside but Laura had already closed the door behind them. Annie felt a little saddened by it. They climbed into the car in silence and Alec drove them along the driveway. The gates opened automatically and then closed behind them. Alec let out a sigh. “Well that went well.” Alec broke the silence. “Ryder has a villa in Spain?”

  “I heard that.”

  “Thoughts?”

  “I’ll reserve judgment until we have all the travel movement information.”

  “She wasn’t very forthcoming, was she?”

  “We got answers, what more could we ask from a widow whose only son was shot dead because he was a serial killer?” Annie felt drained by the experience. “She tried her best to be normal with us but when it comes to the Ryders, she doesn’t have anything left to give.”

  “Can you get that while I’m driving?” Alec’s mobile phone rang and he passed it to Annie to answer it.

  “DS Ramsay’s phone,” Annie answered. She listened intently and frowned. “When was this?” she asked with a sigh. She rubbed at her temples with her fingers and thumb and closed her eyes. “Thanks, we’ll be in touch to arrange an interview.” She hung up and looked at Alec with a blank expression.

  “What is it?” Alec asked.

  “Tod Harris has identified Peter Barton as his accomplice.”

  “Out of the blue?”

  “Seems that way.”

  “What do you think?” Alec looked at her face. “I know.” He nodded wisely. “You’re deferring judgment until all the facts are in, right?”

  “Damn right,” Annie said in a whisper.

  CHAPTER 48

  Peter Barton reached up and dragged a tyre from a shelf. It was old and well worn but he didn’t like throwing things away. He dumped it onto a workbench and turned it with his hands. The inside was bone dry and flaking. He checked over the items on the bench. Fishhooks, superglue, firelighters and cling-film. He picked up one of the display fireworks that he had bought online and placed it on a plastic sheet next to the tyre. The label read ‘Armageddon’. Peter took a craft knife and sliced through the side of it. He held an empty soup tin beneath it and dark granules trickled out making a small pyramid in the bottom of the can. He moved the firework to one side and then took a box of matches from the bench. He struck one and watched it flare and then burn. The smell of sulphur drifted to him. It reminded him of his childhood. He dropped the match into the can and stepped back. A plume of blue flame shot skywards with a whoosh. He smiled and nodded. It would do the job.

  He looked at the television screen across the room and saw another image of himself on Sky News. It seemed that he was the story of the day. The kidnapping of a police officer was big news and the press had linked it to the murder of Brian Taylor. Sources within the police had confirmed that he was a person of interest and was considered to be dangerous. The broadcast warned the public not to approach him but to contact the police immediately. There was no way that he could go out in public. His features were too distinctive. He would be recognised. He walked over to his kitchenette and switched on the kettle although he felt a burning desire to drink something more potent than coffee. Getting smashed wouldn’t help. Relaxing would have to wait until he had finished his preparations.

  He had rented a small workshop unit years earlier and it had been his safe house on numerous occasions. He always felt anonymous there. Since the recession, the remote industrial estate that it was situated on was only partially occupied. His unit was big enough to park his vehicles inside and small enough to heat easily and keep comfortable. It was a home from home and had everything that he needed, water, power and a partitioned office that he had converted into a cosy living space. He had his bed, television, toilet, hot water and a small kitchen. His refrigerator was as tall as he was, half fridge, half freezer and it was packed and well organised. The workshop was fully fitted with everything that he needed and he had stocked it well over the years. He didn’t need to go out until he was ready.

  Peter watched the kettle boil and poured the water over two spoonfuls of coffee. He carried his drink to a washbasin and placed it onto a shelf above it. The mirror above the sink reflected a man with shoulder length greying hair that curled out around the ears. His eyebrows had a mind of their own and seemed to grow at an abnormal rate. He bared his teeth and put his tongue out, turning his head from side to side. The police wanted the man in the mirror and he didn’t feel as anxious about it as he should. Murderer. The title didn’t offend him. He felt numb inside. The years had destroyed his faith in humanity especially his own. He wasn’t sure if he had human emotions anymore or if he ever had. Maybe he didn’t deserve to be living freely amongst other human beings. More to the point, he didn’t want to be among them. If they caught him, they would lock him up with the other animals but that didn’t matter to him either because he would take his own life before he had to spend another hour in prison. He looked at the rack of shotguns in the mirror behind him. They would be key players in his future however short it was.

  He picked up a box of ‘Just for Men’ and read the instructions. Opening the box, he took out a plastic tray and placed it on the basin. There were two tubes inside and he took the first one between his finger and thumb and squeezed the dark gooey contents of a tube along it. The second tube was a white paste and he mixed them together with a plastic paddle. The substance turned black and the smell of ammonia drifted to him. He smeared the black paste into his eyebrows making sure that they were completely covered and then he used the remainder on his facial hair. He smiled and thought of the video game character Mario. The bristles began to darken immediately. He switched on the hot tap and let the water flow before picking up a pair of scissors. Peter took a thick chunk of hair and began to chop at it. As the basin filled with greying curls, he swapped the scissors for a razorblade and shaved the remainder to the scalp. With each smooth stroke, the man in the mirror began to change appearance.

  CHAPTER 49

  “Are we all here?” Annie asked. She looked at the clock, which showed ten past three. “I want to get the syndicate meeting underway. Are you ready, Jim?”

  “Yes, Guv.”

  “Kathy Brooks is on her way over,” Alec said. “She’s stuck in traffic.”

  “We need to get on,” Annie said irritably. She turned on the screens in readiness. “She can join us when she’s ready. Right, everyone!” The office fell silent and all faces turned to her. “I’ll begin with some news from Harris’s brief.” The screens displayed custody suite photographs of Tod Harris and Peter Barton. “Tod Harris has had an epiphany and claims that Barton is our elusive Rob Derry.” Whispers rippled through the detectives. She nodded in acknowledgement of their reaction. “Some of you will be saying ‘I told you so’ but don’t get too carried away. Unless we have evidence to back up his information, his claims are worthless.” She paused and looked at the faces in the room. “Personally, I think Harris is trying to deflect blame. He’s clutching at straws. Pictures of Barton are on every news broadcast so I’m confident that we’ll pick him up soon.”

  Alec held up his hand to interrupt. “The DS in charge of the search for Barton told me that they found an inflatable rib at the mouth of the River Ribble. It was floating freely in the bay and the engine was still warm. They think that Barton had it tied up somewhere near where he entered the water. Some fishermen recalled seeing the rib tied up in that area a few times last week. Barton may have been planning his escape. It would explain the lack of a body or footprints on either bank.” Alec explained. “Lancashire have set up a systematic search of the area south of the Ribble. They’re combing the rural areas with the force helicopter and conducting house to house. If he’s hiding, they’ll f
ind him, if he’s running, the public will find him.”

  Annie wasn’t convinced but she kept her opinion to herself. “Jim?” she prompted the big sergeant.

  He rubbed his bristly jaw with a gnarled hand. “We ran checks on Taylor and Harris and Barton was correct in saying that they were both represented by Geoff Ryder as juveniles.” He tilted his head and looked around. “We have a connection between the three men which, we hadn’t seen previously. When we examined their travel movements, we discovered that Geoff Ryder left the country two days after Simon Barton disappeared.” Silence greeted the news. “There are no records of him returning but if he was on the run, he wouldn’t use his own passport to come back.”

  “Where did he go, Sarge?”

  “We don’t know but he sailed from Dover to Calais with his car and no passengers. We’re still waiting on the ship’s foot passenger list in case one of them booked on.”

  “Laura Ryder told us that she thinks Ryder bought a villa in Spain but we’re still tracking it down.” Alec added.

  “Spain links Harris and Ryder. If Ryder is involved we’ll know soon enough. There are no records of Peter Barton leaving the country at all,” Stirling shrugged. There was a disappointed silence. “We know he’s shrewd so he may have travelled under an alias. He’s not off the hook just yet.” He stepped to the screen and pointed at Harris. “Tod Harris has travelled to Spain three or four times a year every year for the last six years. There’s no record of him travelling to the States but,” Stirling paused, “there were large cash withdrawals made from his bank accounts in the weeks before the RV’s were rented in San Francisco.”

  The lift doors opened and Kathy Brooks stepped out. She looked cold, wet and flustered. “I’m sorry I’m late,” she reddened as she struggled out of her coat. “I do have something for you that is worth waiting for.”

  Annie felt her stomach lurch. She looked at Alec and he nodded to her. They were of the same mind that the forensics would answer their questions. They usually did. “We’re about out of new updates anyway,” Annie said. “What have you found?”