THE FACELESS MAN an absolutely gripping crime mystery with a massive twist (Detectives Lennox & Wilde Thrillers Book 2)

by HELEN H. DURRANT

  “Right, guys,” he said to Jess and Colin. “Lana Midani will have to be told and offered protection. We need to speak to her urgently.”

  Jess smiled. “I’ll come with you. I wouldn’t mind meeting the famous Lana myself.”

  Chapter Seven

  They were halfway down the stairs when they heard Colin call out, telling them to hang on. Harry stopped and turned round. Colin stood at the top of the stairs, looking flustered.

  “There’s been a murder at the Metropole,” he shouted. “A woman’s been found dead in her room.”

  Harry closed his eyes for a moment. This was what he’d wanted to avoid, but he’d delayed acting until they’d got more details. Now it looked like it was too late. “Do we know who?” But Harry knew already.

  “No, but the victim was found in the penthouse.”

  “Lana,” he groaned.

  “The manager rang it in,” Colin said. “He sounded shaky, kept going on about the amount of blood.”

  “The killer got to Lana first. We should have moved faster.” Harry was furious with himself. “You drive, Jess, and I’ll organise Melanie. We should have stopped this.”

  “Let’s get there and find out what happened before we jump to conclusions,” she said. “We’re still working things out. That information on Dean’s wall is all well and good but there’s not much of it. Just faces and the odd note. We need more than that. For all we know, Dean simply collected the information on the victims and selected the others because they were people he didn’t like.”

  “You don’t really believe that. The lad was onto something.” Harry still blamed himself. Had they acted when they’d first seen that wall, perhaps they could have prevented the murder. “Now we’ve got yet another body for forensics to pick over, and that’s not what I wanted.”

  “A few days away hasn’t sweetened your temper much,” Jess said. “Glasgow not what you expected?”

  “I didn’t go to Glasgow,” he said.

  “I thought you went to see family.”

  “My family don’t live in Glasgow, that’s just where I used to work.”

  “Go on then, enlighten me,” Jess said. “Where do you come from?”

  “You wouldn’t know it, so it’s a waste of time me telling you.”

  Harry could understand her curiosity. After that last meeting with Sandy Munro and what he’d said, he was surprised Jess hadn’t pumped him for information before now.

  “I might. I have been to Scotland, you know.”

  He sighed. She wasn’t going to give up. “It’s a small place by the west coast, on the Cowal peninsula. Dunoon.”

  “You’re right, I don’t know it. You shouldn’t be so wary of telling me stuff, you know, Harry,” she said gently. “I’m your friend as well as your colleague. If there’s a problem, something you’re hiding . . .”

  She meant this. Harry knew that Jess would help if she could, but she was better off not knowing anything. “It’s not that simple. Where I’m concerned, ignorance is best. That way, you’re not implicated. You have your own career to think about.”

  “Now you’re speaking in riddles. Why not just come clean? I know you lost your father and twin brother to that fire, hence the burns and scarring on your hands.” She paused. “But I know there’s more. Sandy said as much.” She took a breath. “I was there with you at that last meeting, Harry. I heard what he said. He cast doubt on which twin walked out of that burning building — you or your brother. Harry or Paul.”

  This was a conversation he didn’t ever want to have, and particularly not with someone he worked with. “I thought we’d just sorted that one.”

  “You can’t kid me, Lennox. You’re hiding something and it’s eating you up.”

  “Now you’re talking rubbish.”

  “I don’t think so. Something else happened that day, and you refuse to talk about it.” She cast a sideways glance in his direction.

  Harry was looking out of the car window. “Too damn right it did,” he muttered.

  “If not the fire, is it to do with that character Mungo Salton? I remember him coming up in the last big case we worked on.”

  She remembered, did she? How could he forget? That villain haunted him, day and night. “Leave it, Jess.”

  This was getting out of hand. He wasn’t comfortable with Jess prying into his background or the people he once knew.

  “I got his name from an old colleague of yours in Glasgow, but he didn’t say much, so I looked him up. Salton is a big-time villain with links to nationwide organised crime. He’s some enemy to have. I’m not surprised you’re scared.”

  “He’s retired, and I’m not scared,” Harry said, almost inaudibly.

  “Villains like him never retire, you know that,” Jess retorted. “And if you’re not scared, why hide yourself away in a dump like Ryebridge?”

  Jess was too close to the truth for comfort. He’d transferred to Ryebridge because it was a quiet anonymous backwater where, with luck, no one would find him. After what had happened to his family, he needed some breathing space. Then Sandy Munroe had exploded into his new life and almost wrecked it.

  Sandy had been Harry’s friend and mentor during his time at the Glasgow station. But an honourable retirement hadn’t been enough for Sandy. He’d defected to the dark side and thrown in his lot with a people-trafficking ring, a case Harry and Jess had investigated. At their final meeting Sandy had said he wanted to explain, but instead he’d opened up a whole can of worms. What he’d said about Harry was dynamite and could have blown his new life apart. Harry was surprised that Jess had kept so quiet these last few weeks — she had to have questions. Well, she did. She’d obviously being doing her homework while he’d been away.

  They drove the rest of the way in silence. By the time they arrived at the hotel, the top floor penthouse had been cordoned off. They were met by a uniformed officer who showed them into the plush accommodation. The body was lying just as the killer had left it.

  “That’s not Lana Midani,” Jess said at once. “This woman is a lot older.”

  “She’s Miss Midani’s PA,” a uniformed PC explained. “Ms Midani was in the beauty salon downstairs at the time. She found the body when she returned.”

  “Where is she now?” Jess asked.

  “In a room down the corridor with some bloke who reckons he’s her hairdresser.”

  At that moment Melanie and Hettie arrived from the Reid. “Seen all you need?” Hettie asked. “Only you’re contaminating the crime scene.”

  “Let’s go and speak to the girl herself,” Harry suggested.

  Chapter Eight

  Lana Midani was sitting on a sofa weeping, her head on a young man’s shoulder.

  “We’d like to speak to you about what happened today,” Harry said and showed her his warrant card.

  “No pictures, I insist,” she said, putting a hand in front of her face. “I look a state.”

  “We have no intention of photographing you, Ms Midani,” Harry said. “We aren’t fans, we’re not press, we’re police. All we want is to ask you about Julia Burton.”

  She stuck her nose in the air. “I have no idea what happened. I wasn’t here. All I know is everything has gone horribly wrong.” Ignoring Harry, she turned to the young man. “Dante, I can’t do this, all these questions. I can’t cope without Julia. She does it all, arranges everything. I’ll be a complete mess without her.”

  “Julia Burton, your PA,” Harry said sternly, “has been murdered and like it or not, you’ll have to answer our questions. Did she say anything to you about being afraid of anyone? Maybe she noticed someone watching the pair of you.”

  Lana shrugged. “She said nothing, so I can’t help you. Perhaps it was a robbery and Julia got in the way.”

  “We don’t think so. Think carefully, Ms Midani. Has anything out of the ordinary happened during the last few days? Any strange phone calls, or have you thought you were being followed? This is important.”

 
; “No, nothing. Like I said, I can’t help you. I wasn’t here!” She was shrieking now. “Don’t you understand? I went down to the salon to give that imbecile who runs it a roasting, and when I returned, Julia was dead.”

  She buried her head in Dante’s shoulder and began to sob. “It was dreadful. Julia was just lying there on the floor, with all that blood everywhere.”

  “Did you see anyone? Did you pass anyone when you got in or out of the lift?” Harry said.

  “No. I didn’t see anyone. I have no idea why this has happened or who could have done it.”

  Harry was growing tired of her attitude. Did she think she was above answering a few simple questions? A shake-up might help. “We have reason to suspect that the intended target was you, Ms Midani.”

  That had its effect. She gasped and jumped to her feet. “What for? Why would anyone want to kill me? The whole world loves me.”

  “Not quite,” Jess said. “Can you think of anyone you may have upset recently?”

  “Not enough to want me dead. Sometimes if things aren’t right, I shout. I have standards.” She pouted, then it seemed to dawn on her. “I don’t understand why this happened to Julia, but if it was me the killer was after, he might try again. I want protection. You must keep me safe!”

  “And we will.” Jess smiled at her. “But the accommodation may not be quite up to your usual standard.”

  Lana frowned. “I can’t stay just anywhere. Not me.” She paused. “I’ll make my own arrangements.”

  “No, we will make them for you,” Harry said. “And it’ll have to be quick. You can’t stay in your suite. The forensic people will have to do their work.”

  “I’ll tell the manager to put me in another one then.”

  “We will put you in a safe house. You’ll have one of our family liaison officers with you. It’ll be their job to update you should there be developments,” Harry said.

  “That sounds like I’m being put in prison. I won’t have it. I don’t care what you say, I want to go home. I’ll be safe there.”

  “If we’re right and you are the intended target, the killer won’t give up. He’ll follow you to London and try again,” Jess said. “He killed Julia, next time it will be you.”

  Lana pulled a face and sighed. “If it’s absolutely necessary then I suppose I’ll have to do as you wish. But I’m not happy, now get out of my face.”

  Ignoring her rudeness, Jess turned to the young man. “Who are you?”

  “Dante. I am Lana’s stylist. I just arrived, so I missed the incident. I literally walked in to find police all over the place.” He disengaged himself from Lana and kissed her cheek. “It might be better if I wait downstairs.”

  After he’d shut the door behind him, Harry turned to Lana. “You said you found Julia. How long were you gone?”

  “I was having my hair done,” Lana wailed. “I came back to the suite and there she was, lying in all that blood. I spoke to her, felt her pulse, but there was nothing.” She shuddered. “Who could do that, and why kill her?”

  “I think she was killed because she saw him. She must have answered the door, and they’ll have spoken. If he’d allowed her to live, she’d have given us a description,” Harry explained. “How long did the hair thing take? An hour?”

  Lana Midani flashed him a withering look. “I don’t know. I didn’t sit there watching the clock.”

  “I simply want to get my head round the timeline. The killer must have believed you’d be in your suite.”

  “And I would have been if Dante had arrived on time. But he was late, so I went downstairs to see if the salon here could do my hair. I had to look my best — I was about to be interviewed by a magazine.”

  “What magazine?” he asked.

  “I have no idea, Julia saw to all that, but it’s a local one, published in Manchester.”

  “Had Dante arrived on time, what would have been the routine? Would Julia and him have stayed with you?”

  “I only asked Dante to come last night. If things had gone to plan, he’d have finished long before the interview and have been on his way back. It was Julia’s day off — she was going to go shopping in Manchester. She only stayed with me because I was in a flap about my hair,” Lana said.

  “Why didn’t you simply stay at the Commodore in Manchester? It belongs to the same chain,” Jess asked.

  “They were full, so they offered us a suite here at a reduced price. Julia said it was a good deal and close enough to the city.”

  Finding Julia here would have thrown the killer. If he’d found out about Lana’s plans and those of Julia, he’d have expected her to be alone. Harry wondered how he knew that much.

  “Do you know what happened to the reporter?”

  “I have no idea. He never arrived. Julia will have left word with reception to expect him and allow him to go up.”

  So that was how he got to her. Whoever had arrived earlier and gone up to her suite was no reporter. “It would be useful to know more about the arrangements for the interview,” Harry said. “How and when they were made. Did Julia have a laptop she used? I’d like to check her emails.”

  There was one lying on the coffee table. Lana picked it up. “Take it, but please let me have it back. It’ll have my diary for the next few weeks on it.”

  Harry and Jess stood up to go. “I’ll leave a uniformed PC with you. We’ll arrange new accommodation and ensure your safety.”

  “I’m still not happy about being incarcerated in some crummy flat somewhere,” she said.

  “It’s for your own good. You should understand that the killer will know full well that he’s made a mistake. If he decides to put that right and try again, you must be somewhere we can protect you. You must cooperate, Ms Midani. Your life depends on it. I’ll speak to you again shortly. Meanwhile, discuss it with your friend Dante. We’ll get one of the uniformed officers to send him up. Perhaps he can make you see what’s in your best interests.”

  “Quite the little diva, isn’t she?” Jess whispered once they were out of earshot.

  “Spoilt brat more like,” Harry said. “We’ll get protection sorted for her. Dean was right about her being a prospective victim, though it’s a mystery how he knew.”

  They returned to Lana’s suite to find Melanie bent over the body of Julia Burton. “He’s good, I’ll say that for him. One stab straight to the heart, exactly like the Greenwood lad. She didn’t have time to put up a fight, the attack must have been a surprise. There are marks on the front of her neck. It looks like he surprised her from behind, put a hand around her neck, pulled her round and stabbed her between the ribs.”

  “The good doctor’s take on events is sound,” Hettie said. “The problem is the lack of forensics. There are no prints on the door or any of the surfaces, only Ms Midani’s and those of our victim. I think she offered him a drink — see? The cup is set out ready. He must have struck when she turned her back on him.”

  “What? No prints at all, not even the odd stray hair?” Jess asked.

  “We’ll be doing a fingertip search of this place, so we’ll see what turns up. If I get anything, you’ll be the first to know,” Hettie said.

  “This guy is ultra-careful, isn’t he?” Jess said to Harry. “He does his best not to leave forensic traces and he doesn’t risk leaving witnesses who can describe him either. Hence Julia, the PA, had to die.”

  Jess had to be right about the PA, but Harry was sceptical about the forensic traces. “They always leave something behind, Jessie,” he whispered. “What the forensic team have to do is find it, no matter how small it is.”

  “I’ll let you speak to Hettie about that,” she said.

  The forensic scientist was across the room, examining a blood spatter on the wall. “Would you compare the wound with Dean’s?” Harry asked. “I’d like an opinion on whether the same blade was used.”

  “I’ll let you know about her PM,” Melanie chipped in. “We’re planning to do Dean’s in the morning.”
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  Harry handed Hettie the laptop. “This is Julia’s. Will you pass it to IT forensics, ask them to see what emails went back and forth between Julia and an alleged reporter?”

  Hettie nodded and bagged it.

  “How did the killer get up here?” Jess asked. “D’you reckon he took the lift?” She went out into the corridor. “Look, there’s a camera up there in that corner.” She turned to the uniform who was stopping people coming onto the floor. “Would you check with the manager about CCTV? We want a copy of any footage from this afternoon.”

  Chapter Nine

  There were three people on duty at the reception counter. Harry wanted to speak to whichever of them had checked in a man asking to see Lana.

  A middle-aged woman in a dark suit introduced herself as the reception manager. “She’s had no visitors today, other than her hairdresser. If she had, we’d have told you at once.”

  “Ms Midani was expecting a reporter,” Harry said.

  “We’re aware of that, but he or she never checked in with us.”

  “Are people allowed to wander in and out of the hotel at will?” Jess asked.

  “Of course not. Guests leave their keys when they go out and pick them up from us on their return. Everyone else has to check in here. They are asked their business, their names are put on the system and they are given a visitors’ pass.” Shoulders back, she raised herself to her full height and glared at Harry. “We’re very security conscious here, Inspector. We can’t have all and sundry just wandering around the hotel.”

  “But the killer did just that. He came in, went up to the penthouse and killed Ms Midani’s PA.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Sharon! Come here, girl.”

  A teenage girl joined them. She was wearing the same uniform but her skirt was much shorter.

  The woman immediately laid into her. “A man — a stranger, not a guest — came in here today. He may have asked for Ms Midani. Did you let him go up to the penthouse?”