‘Yeah, and I’m an Elvis impersonator,’ Inky said with a frown.
Marnie smiled, as she turned and headed back through the beaded curtain a face peered in at her through the front window, a face covered in ink.
‘Bloody hell, I forgot about that bugger,’ Inky said as he brushed past her.
Unbolting the door, he swung it open letting the man in.
‘Aye, aye what were you two up to back there?’ the man asked, his grin contorting the grey ink.
Marnie walked past, ignoring the walking tattoo she winked at Inky who smiled in return.
As soon as she had left, Inky turned back to the customer. ‘Let’s just call it executive stress relief,’ he said as he swaggered across the room.
‘Lucky bugger,’ the customer replied.
Inky started to whistle.
14
Half an hour later, Marnie was in the station canteen telling Reese about her visit to the tattooists, the frown on his face deepening as he heard the name Jimmy Rae.
The canteen was deserted, Reese slowly working his way through a plate of pie and chips while Marnie sipped at a coffee from the machine in the corner.
When she’d finished talking, he eased forward, planting his elbows on the table. ‘Did this Inky character give you any other names?’
Marnie shook her head. ‘No, he said he knew they were Rae’s cronies but that’s all, and considering it was almost two decades ago I’m amazed he remembered anything.’
‘Right, so it looks as if the body could be one of Rae’s men or an acquaintance?’
‘Seems likely,’ Marnie agreed.
‘The question is, did the victim cross Rae in some way or is someone else responsible for the death?’
‘Either way it won’t matter, Rae won’t cooperate.’
Reese knew Marnie was right, there was no way a character like Rae would ever consider helping the police.
‘Though, if Rae was responsible then I am surprised he left the body to be found, it would have made more sense to dispose of it properly,’ Marnie suggested, as she drained the plastic cup.
‘Which points to someone else killing our mystery man.’
‘What do you want to do?’ Marnie asked.
Reese wiped his hands on a paper napkin before dropping it onto the plate. ‘Why don’t we go and have a word with the man, see if we can rattle his cage?’
Marnie waited while Reese pulled his jacket from the back of the chair before following him across the canteen and out into the corridor.
Five minutes later, they were pulling off the car park, Reese behind the wheel while Marnie fought the urge to light a cigarette.
‘You never know, if the dead man does turn out to be a friend then Rae might decide to cooperate,’ the DCI said hopefully as he went through the gears.
Marnie folded her hands in her lap. ‘The last time I spoke to Rae he told me to eff off so I can’t see him opening up unless it suits him.’
Reese smiled grimly as they swept past a line of grotty-looking terraced houses.
At the lights, he slowed to a stop and glanced sideways at Marnie. ‘You were born and raised in this town, you probably know Rae better than most, what makes him tick?’
Marnie watched a man and his German shepherd walk across in front of the car. ‘Rae has a short fuse but he’s not stupid, we’ve looked into his dealings on at least three occasions and every time he’s walked without anything sticking.’
The lights changed and Reese drove forward.
‘So, he’s a slippery bugger?’
‘According to his file, he served time when he was younger for a bit of dealing and assault but then he fell off the radar for a few years.’
‘Building his empire?’ Reese asked with a heavy sigh.
Marnie nodded. ‘He hides behind the front of being a property developer but most of the houses are no more than slums and not fit for human habitation. Rae doesn’t care though, he rents them out and gets the council to foot the bill.’
‘Are we sure he’s still into the drugs?’ Reese asked, turning right at the junction and getting his foot down.
‘Well, there are plenty of rumours but, as I said, nothing sticks and getting anyone to talk is nigh on impossible,’ Marnie replied as she watched the world pass by through the side window.
‘People are scared of the man?’
‘Terrified.’
‘So, if someone has killed one of his mates then he won’t take it lying down?’
Marnie glanced at her boss with eyebrow raised. ‘He’ll flip and then he’ll go looking for those responsible.’
Reese’s face clouded over. ‘OK, so who would be in the firing line?’
‘No idea. I mean, there are plenty of dealers in this town but I would imagine most of them work for Rae, no one springs to mind who would be stupid or daft enough to try and take him on.’
‘No one trying to muscle in on his patch?’
‘Well, if there is then they’ll more than likely be from out of town.’
The road widened and Reese flicked his eyes round the mirrors before slotting into fourth gear. ‘I don’t like any of this,’ he said, his face turning sour. ‘Whichever way you look at it a man has been slaughtered and if Rae was responsible then chances are he’ll get away with it, and if someone else did the killing then Rae will go ballistic and start a bloodbath.’
Marnie clicked the heater up a notch. ‘Well, knowing Rae we’ll soon find out one way or the other.’
Reese glanced at her in confusion. ‘Meaning?’
Marnie leaned forward and adjusted the vents until the cool air was blowing on her feet. ‘If Rae was involved then the shutters will come down but if someone else killed the man then he’ll have plenty to say.’
Reese smiled and nodded. ‘Right, let’s see what happens when we break the news to our local Mr Big.’
Marnie nodded but kept her mouth closed.
15
Rae emptied the whisky glass, grimacing as the liquid burned its way down his throat, stoking the flames of anger that burned deep inside.
Acton waited for his boss to explode, they were sitting in the conservatory of the large, detached house, the garden stretched out towards open fields, the lawn immaculate, dotted here and there with mature bushes, a twisted elm tree stood in the centre of the garden, the branches stretching up towards the mottled sky.
Rae filled the glass again and glared out at the view. ‘I want to know who the fuck has been running a stable and I want to know sharpish.’
‘I’ve sent a few of the lads over to Grafton to put the word out so we should know soon, Jimmy,’ Acton said.
‘It’s your job,’ Rae jabbed out a finger, ‘to keep your eyes and ears open, that’s what I pay you for and yet you knew nothing about this.’
Acton shifted in his chair as Rae drained the glass before turning his scornful stare back on him.
‘I’ll sort it, Jimmy.’
‘You’d fucking better,’ Rae warned.
‘I …’
‘Whoever it is they’re already up and running, and they’ve done it right under your frigging nose!’ Acton held up an apologetic hand. Rae rolled the glass between his hands as he waited for a reply. ‘Nothing to say?’ he asked, his face still riven with anger.
‘I promise I’ll sort it,’ Acton repeated hopefully.
‘On your head be it if you don’t.’
Acton nodded in understanding. ‘What about Tam?’ he asked in a desperate attempt to change the subject.
Rae’s eyes narrowed, the fury sparking. ‘Forget him, you concentrate on finding these fuckers, now get out of my bloody sight.’
Acton didn’t need telling twice, he shot up from the chair and made his way through the house, his cheeks inflated with relief as he exited through the front door. Crossing the gravel, he climbed behind the wheel of the Range Rover. Within seconds he had the air-con on full blast, the cold air blowing into his sweating face. Reaching for his phone, he
slotted the car into gear and drove down the long drive, the droning phone clamped between chin and shoulder.
16
The woman behind the reception desk smiled at the man leaning towards her.
‘I wonder if it’s possible to talk to the person in charge?’ he asked.
‘I’m in charge at the moment; can I help you with anything?’
‘It’s about John Hall.’
At the mention of the name, the woman’s face fell. ‘John?’
The tall man nodded. ‘I’m an old friend, we served together in the army.’
‘You’re Tom Conway,’ she said, her eyes widening.
Conway raised an eyebrow in surprise, the woman looked to be in her mid-fifties, her dark hair flecked with thin strands of silver, her slender face devoid of makeup. She was dressed in black jeans and a cream-coloured top, red-glitter earrings matching the chain with the red stone around her neck. Despite her age, she looked gym-fit, as if she was used to hitting the treadmill on a regular basis.
The woman stood up and held out her hand. ‘My name’s Polly Hardy, John often spoke about you.’
Taking her hand, he shook it, his face impassive, ‘I’ve been away for a while but John and I go back a long way, we’ve always kept in touch but now it’s as if he’s fallen off the radar.’
‘Look, I don’t know how much you know, but the truth is, no one has seen John, or Rowan, for nearly five weeks.’
‘But he does work here, right?’
Polly nodded. ‘John was in charge of the unit, we’re a charity that provides shelter for abused women and he was dedicated to his job. That’s what’s so hard to understand, John would never simply vanish without saying something.’
Conway frowned, he’d been in regular contact with John and then all of a sudden, the emails had stopped, he had tried ringing his oldest friend but got no reply.
‘So, what happened?’ he asked.
Polly sat down behind her desk, her fingers devoid of rings, her face etched with concern. ‘John has been in charge of this place for the past five years and in all that time I’ve never known him to have a day off let alone vanish without a word.’
‘What about the police?’ Conway asked.
Polly sighed. ‘After a couple of days, we contacted them and they came to take down the details. I spoke to the officer in charge about three weeks ago, he said that John’s house had been checked but there was no sign of a break-in. I tried to find out exactly what they had done, he just said that enquiries were being made, but considering Rowan was with her father then there was little they could do until “further information came to light”.’
Conway nodded in understanding before folding his arms. ‘What do you think happened to them?’
She seemed thrown by the question and then her face hardened. ‘All I know is that John was dedicated not only to Rowan but also to the women in this place and he would never leave without letting the staff know about it.’
‘He said this place kept him busy but I know he enjoyed working here,’ Conway admitted.
Polly’s eyes filled with tears. ‘I just can’t help feeling that something dreadful has happened to them both.’
Conway thought for a moment before asking the next question. ‘Tell me, do you ever get any aggro working here?’
‘Aggro?’ she frowned as if unsure what the word meant.
‘You come across people who are in trouble?’
‘Well yes, but …’
‘And I would imagine that the majority of women in here are running from something in their past, otherwise they wouldn’t be seeking shelter in the first place?’
Polly slid her hands from the desk and into her lap. ‘That’s right but for some it’s just that their home life is unbearable and …’
‘Did John have to deal with anyone turning up and kicking off?’ Conway interrupted.
Polly nodded slowly. ‘Occasionally you’d get ex-boyfriends or husbands turning up trying to get to the girls but John always put them straight.’
‘When did it last happen?’
Polly thought for a moment before replying. ‘The last one must be about six or seven weeks ago; I was here and a man turned up demanding to see one of the girls. At first, he seemed quite rational but when I told him that wasn’t possible he became angry, so I pressed the panic button and John arrived and asked him to leave.’
‘And did he go quietly?’
She gave the ghost of a sad smile. ‘Believe me, they never go quietly but John knew how to handle the situation.’
Conway nodded in understanding, John had always been able to take care of himself and some idiot shouting the odds wouldn’t have bothered him in the slightest.’
‘Did you get the man’s name?’
‘I’m afraid not, things got heated pretty quickly and then he was out the door.’
‘And he hasn’t been back?’
‘Not that I’m aware of but to be honest we sometimes have men hanging around outside. Once they discover their ex-girlfriend or wife is here then they try to get their claws back in.’
‘What about the girl?’
Polly frowned. ‘What girl?’
‘The one the man came to see?’
‘Oh right, well Emma’s still here but as I said, I don’t think the man’s been back since John threw him out.’
‘Could I have a word with her?’ Conway asked, arms still folded, his face blank.
Polly frowned and for the first time Conway saw the lines of age on her forehead. ‘May I ask why?’
‘You’re right when you say John wouldn’t just leave without saying something and there’s no way he would just up sticks and take Rowan with him. He worked here, and you’ve already said that it could be a volatile environment so I’d like to find out the name of the guy who was shouting the odds.’
‘But what good will it do?’
Conway almost snapped in frustration. ‘Because if something has happened then I want to find out what, and you said this mystery man was angry.’
‘My God, you think he’s done something to John and Rowan, don’t you?’ her hands fluttered to her mouth, her eyes wide in shock.
‘I have no idea but if the police aren’t interested then I’ll make some enquiries.’
Polly Hardy held her breath for a moment before letting it out in a thin stream of anguish. ‘I’ll see if Emma would be willing to talk to you, but I warn you now she’s been through a lot and I won’t have her upset.’
Conway nodded. ‘I’m not here to give anyone a hard time.’
She looked up at the tall man with the brown, watchful eyes, trying to see beyond the nonchalant façade but he looked back at her without a flicker of emotion.
‘Give me five minutes,’ she stood up and headed for the door.
As she left the room she glanced back, Tom Conway remained standing, his hands by his side, unmoving, like some automaton who had been unplugged from the system, a machine in standby mode waiting to reanimate and …
Polly frowned, feeling uneasy as she closed the door and headed down the corridor.
17
Reese kept his finger pressed on the bell, Marnie by his side, waiting for someone to answer the door. Lifting his finger off the button for a couple of seconds, Reese paused before jabbing at it again. Suddenly, the door sprang open and Jimmy Rae glared out at them.
‘Whatever it is you’re selling I don’t want any and if you’re Jehovah’s witnesses then you can sod off right now.’
Reese had his warrant out in a flash. ‘We’d like a word,’ he said, thrusting his hand forward.
Rae didn’t even bother looking at the image, instead he sniffed the air as if he could detect a bad smell. ‘I’m busy.’
‘Doing what?’
‘Washing my bloody hair,’ the big man sneered.
Reese sighed as he slid the wallet back into his pocket. ‘This is a serious matter, Mr Rae, we …’
‘I don’t give a toss, I have nothing
to say to the likes of you.’
Marnie had heard enough, she stepped forward, shoulders drawn back. ‘Last night we found the body of a man and we have reason to believe that he may have been known to you.’
Rae frowned, one hand on the door as if ready to slam it in their faces. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘I strongly suggest you let us in then we can sort this,’ Marnie said.
Rae’s expression darkened and Marnie was convinced that more abuse was on the way but then surprisingly he shrugged and stepped back.
They followed him into the hall. By the time Marnie had closed the door, Rae had vanished into a room on the right.
Walking through into the huge lounge, they found him standing with his back to an unlit fire, a stack of dried logs in the grate. ‘Now, what makes you think I know anything about some random stiff?’
Reese glanced through a set of large French doors, the huge garden beyond leading to open fields. ‘Last night we were called out to an incident in an old derelict factory on the outskirts of town, we found a body tied to a chair or I should say, a body missing its hands, feet, … and head.’
Marnie watched the man, Rae remained impassive as if they were discussing something as mundane as the weather.
‘What’s that got to do with me?’ he asked.
Reese tilted his head as he looked at Rae. ‘When we examined the body, we found a tattoo in the small of the dead man’s back.’
This time Rae’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. ‘A tattoo?’
Marnie moved to the left and Rae followed her with his steely gaze as if he expected her to make a dash for the silver.
‘A lightning bolt tattoo,’ she explained, and this time there was no doubting the shock on Rae’s face.
‘We’ve made some enquiries and it appears that you and one of your friends have the same tattoo. Is that correct?’ Reese asked.
Rae’s head snapped back and forth from one to the other, his eyes suddenly blazing. ‘Get out!’
Marnie ignored him. ‘You both had the same lightning bolt on your lower back, now we have no way of knowing if the dead man is known to you but you have to agree it’s possible.’
Cut The Threads: A Serial Killer Thriller That Will Keep You Hooked (DS Marnie Hammond Book 2) Page 5