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THE GUILTY MAN an absolutely gripping crime mystery with a massive twist (Detectives Lennox & Wilde Thrillers Book 1)

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by HELEN H. DURRANT




  THE

  GUILTY

  MAN

  An absolutely gripping crime mystery with a massive twist

  Detectives Lennox & Wilde Thrillers Book 1

  HELEN H. DURRANT

  First published in Great Britain 2020

  Joffe Books, London

  www.joffebooks.com

  © Helen H. Durrant

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental. The spelling used is British English except where fidelity to the author’s rendering of accent or dialect supersedes this. The right of Helen H. Durrant to be identified as author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

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  ISBN 978-1-78931-580-6

  CONTENTS

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Chapter Thirty-six

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-one

  Chapter Forty-two

  Chapter Forty-three

  Chapter Forty-four

  Chapter Forty-five

  Chapter Forty-six

  Chapter Forty-seven

  Chapter Forty-eight

  Chapter Forty-nine

  Chapter Fifty

  Chapter Fifty-one

  Chapter Fifty-two

  Chapter Fifty-three

  Chapter Fifty-four

  Chapter Fifty-five

  Chapter Fifty-six

  Epilogue

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  For my lovely granddaughter, Layla, on her eighteenth birthday x

  Prologue

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  A piercing scream echoed against the bare walls, inhuman, a noise to ice the blood. The victim was weeping. In the space of a few hours this villain, who was more used to meting out torment than receiving it, had been reduced to an abject, quivering bundle. He was pleading for his life.

  The man smiled to himself. He was good at this.

  He moved closer to inspect the damage he’d inflicted and shook his head. A shoddy job. Blood was pouring from the stump where the victim’s left hand used to be. The amputation had been rushed and for several hours his victim had been unconscious. He’d had a go at cauterising the wound to stop the bleeding, but it hadn’t gone well.

  “That must hurt,” he said with some interest. The man dangling above him whimpered. “Do you realise it’s gone, Nick? I’m curious to know if what they say is true and it feels like it’s still there.”

  Not daring to look down at what had been done to him, the victim shook his head, swaying slightly on the rope. “Let . . . let me go. I’ll pay you.”

  Tempting. Nick was worth a fortune. Accept and he’d be wealthy, free to wave his old life goodbye for good. But Nick had a fearful reputation round here. His was the name you whispered and hoped no one overheard. No, Nick would never let it lie. Despite his own reputation and good connections, no way could he accept the offer.

  “Nice one, Nick, but I’ll have to decline. Anyway, it’s getting late, time to call it a day. I’ve still got a lot of preparation to do, and it’ll take a while. I must say I’m not looking forward to the next bit, all the clearing up. You see, the people I’m working for don’t want anything left behind for the police.” He smiled at the terrified man. “Sorry it had to end like this, Nick, but I have no choice.”

  “No . . . no, you can’t. I’ll give you anything — money, property, a share in the business.”

  “Desperate, eh? It sounds all wrong coming from your mouth. Just look at what you’ve been reduced to. What a way to end up.”

  “Who . . . who set this up?” Nick gasped. “At least tell me that before you kill me.”

  He smiled. “Guess. Go on, see if you can come up with the right name. In fact, I’ll do you a deal. Guess right and I’ll let you go free.”

  He’d no intention of doing anything of the sort. But he’d enjoy seeing the disappointment on Nick’s face when he said the obvious and learned it was someone else entirely.

  Chapter One

  “Harry! Wake up. C’mon, move it, we’ve got a shout,” Detective Sergeant Jess Wilde said. “Move your lazy arse for God’s sake. We’ve got to go.”

  “Bugger off, Jess. It’s my day off.”

  “Not anymore, sunshine, this is urgent.”

  DI Harry Lennox’s blond, dishevelled head surfaced from under the bedding. He squinted at the daylight and groaned. “Leave me be. I’m not well.”

  “Hungover, you mean. You had a skinful last night. You look dreadful and this place stinks,” she said.

  “I'm doing just fine.” Who was he kidding? He was just about getting by.

  “You’re living in a beat-up camper van on a mate’s drive for God’s sake. You’ve got little in the way of facilities and you’re drunk most nights. Carry on like this and you’ll not only have no home, you’ll be out of a job too!”

  Much as he liked Jess and valued her opinions, Harry didn’t need this. He was too tired. He knew his life was a mess, and he could do without her shoving the fact down his throat. He had a splitting headache and was in desperate need of sleep. He’d been up half the night playing poker with Don, the man whose drive he was living on. Not that he was particularly fond of poker, but that and the booze served as a distraction from the dark stuff in his head.

  Jess punched him, making him wince. Why the sudden lack of sympathy? She was usually all right, knew the chaos his life was in and said she understood. So, what was up with her today? “Okay, okay, I give in. What’s s
o urgent that you’ve dragged yourself over here at this unearthly hour?”

  “Lucy Green has turned up.”

  Jess Wilde couldn’t have sobered him up quicker if she’d thrown a bucket of water over him. Harry Lennox felt as if he'd been kicked in the guts. He’d been dreading this day, having to face her mother with the news, and seeing the whole dreadful business plastered all over the press yet again.

  His voice shaking, he said, “How d’you know it’s her? It’s been five weeks. Is the body still recognisable?”

  “Very much so. She was found wandering around Cheetham Park an hour ago by a member of the public . The woman was concerned because Lucy had nothing on her feet and was dressed only in a cotton frock.”

  Harry Lennox didn’t understand. Three-year-old Lucy Green had disappeared without a trace. They’d subsequently found evidence indicating that she’d been murdered. The investigation had been extensive, costing a fortune, eventually leading the team to a man called Albert Sykes. He’d been arrested, had confessed to killing her and was awaiting trial. He had been interviewed countless times but always refused to say what he’d done with the body.

  The evidence against Sykes was compelling — one of Lucy’s toys, a pink teddy bear she was fond of, was found in his possession as well as traces of her blood on his shirt. He’d made a weak excuse about her falling over and grazing her knee, but given his reputation no one believed it for a second. CCTV footage showed him talking to the little girl in the park where she’d disappeared. He was then clearly seen taking her hand and leading her away. That was the last time Lucy Green had been seen alive. Until today.

  “Has she said anything, like what happened or where she’s been?”

  “You don’t know much about kids, do you?” Jess scoffed. “Lucy is only three, she’s little more than an infant. The doctor reckons she’s been given something. Right now, she doesn’t even know her name.”

  Lennox threw back the duvet and gingerly got to his feet. His body ached all over and he felt sick. He made yet another resolution to knock the strong ale on the head.

  Jess chucked a dressing gown at him. “Cover yourself up and don’t insult my eyes. I don’t want to see any more of you than I have to if it’s all the same to you.”

  He gave her a cheeky grin. Who was she kidding? Jess liked him really, she just wouldn’t admit it. She wasn’t bad-looking either. Strawberry blonde hair, neat figure and with just the right amount of attitude. “I’ll go inside the house and get a shower. You can make us some coffee.”

  “We don’t have time for coffee. Clean yourself up, put on some decent clothes and we’ll be off. Lucy is with social services until they find her mother. We need to speak to the child before that witch poisons her head. We also need to speak to the woman who found her, and anyone else who was in that area of the park this morning.”

  “Busy day ahead then.”

  Lennox wrapped himself in the dressing gown and disappeared. The kid was alive and that was brilliant. But where the hell had she been? He really didn’t want to think about what Lucy Green might have suffered in the time she was missing. Albert Sykes had only been in custody for the last three weeks. Prior to that, he would have been able to do what he liked with the girl.

  Albert had worn the label ‘perv’ around his neck for most of his life. He’d been in that park at the same time as Lucy, had been seen holding her hand, and no one had got so much as a glimpse of her after that. Combined with the other evidence, the blood and particularly finding her teddy in that damn shopping bag he always carried around with him, his fate had been sealed.

  No bail meant Albert had to await trial inside. The other inmates had soon learned what he’d been accused of and made his life a misery. Their bullying culminated in a brutal attack which put Albert in hospital. Currently, he was hooked up to a ventilator in Ryebridge General.

  The hot water slaked over him, bringing some relief to his aching body, but the thoughts in his head weren’t so easily washed away. What if Albert Sykes was innocent? The man was badly injured, he could die. What then? Would it be their fault?

  Ten minutes later he was ready to go, showered, hair brushed and sporting a clean shirt and a suit.

  Jess smiled when he walked in. “If I didn’t know what you’re really like, I might think you’re a bit of a stunner. When you ditch the slob, you remind me of one of those moody early sixties pop stars. Turn up your jacket collar, strike a pose and you could have a new career.”

  “Not something I aspire to.” He smiled. “Suit’s not mine either, I’m afraid. It’s Don’s. There’s a pile of washing in that basket when I get time to go to the laundrette. But most of my stuff is still at the house — that is if Anthea hasn’t thrown it all away.”

  “Really hates you then, does she?”

  “Afraid so. I just wish I knew what I’ve done wrong.”

  Jess rolled her eyes.

  Chapter Two

  They had arranged to meet Lucy and her mum at the kiddies’ playroom in the offices of the social services on Stamford Road. When Harry and Jess arrived, Lucy was playing happily with a young woman social worker. Kelsey, her mother, was pacing the floor, arms folded and a sour expression on her face.

  “Look at her,” Jess whispered. “She should be over the moon. Instead, I swear the witch is disappointed.”

  “What the ’ell d’you two want?” Kelsey asked, spitting her gum into a bin. “The kid’s okay, anyone can see that. Night in her own bed and she’ll be back to normal.”

  “We’d like to speak to her,” Harry said.

  He gave the woman his best boyish smile, which wasn’t lost on Jess. Lennox could be quite the charmer when he chose.

  “We won’t bother her for long,” he said. “We just want to see if she recalls anything at all.”

  “She doesn’t,” Kelsey snapped. “The doctor’s examined her and she’s fine. And Lucy hasn’t been . . . you know, tampered with.”

  Harry nodded, relieved. That was something at least. But they still needed to find out where the child had been. “Has she said anything?”

  “Not much. Mind you, she never does. The clinic reckon she’s a bit behind, not reaching her milestones or whatever. Load of rubbish if you ask me. Kid’s healthy enough, eats and sleeps all right. What more do they expect?”

  Something occurred to Jess. “Kelsey, does Lucy talk at all?”

  The woman gave Jess a filthy look. “Hardly. She gabbles on, to her toys and the like. I’ve no idea what about, can’t make out half of it.”

  Jess looked at Harry and shook her head. Kelsey Green was a disgrace.

  A woman who’d been sitting in the corner taking notes came forward. “Rhoda Jackson, social services. The Green family has been one of mine since Lucy was born. I’m compiling a report on what we’ve got so far regarding this incident, not that it’s much. However, I can confirm that according to the doctor who examined her, Lucy does not appear to have been harmed in any way.” She ushered the detectives out of the mother’s earshot. “In fact, the child is in better condition than when she disappeared. She’s been well fed, even put on weight, and the clothes she was found in were an expensive, designer brand.”

  “A cotton frock?” Jess said.

  “Yes, one of those with fancy smocking on the chest and embroidered on the pockets, plus matching underwear,” Rhoda confirmed.

  “But there was nothing on her feet — a bit of a contradiction that,” Jess said.

  “The police are searching the area,” Rhoda Jackson said. “They may yet find the footwear. Kelsey told me earlier that Lucy is a devil for discarding her shoes and running around barefoot.”

  “Is the child up to talking to us?” Harry Lennox asked.

  “No, she’s still quite sleepy. The doctor suspects she was given a mild sedative before she was found.”

  “Has she said anything?”

  “She’s asked for Clara, if that helps.”

  It didn’t, not unless the mothe
r could shed some light. Jess turned to look at her.

  Rhoda Jackson looked unimpressed. “Oh, I’ve asked her, and no, Ms Green has no idea. Nor does she appear particularly interested in what has happened to her daughter or where she’s been. If I’m honest, I have serious doubts about allowing the woman to take Lucy home. All she seems to be interested in is how much the press will pay her for the story.”

  Harry frowned. Kelsey must not talk about this to anyone, not yet. There was still evidence to collect and collate. Until they had a better picture of what had happened, all the press would be told was that the child was back and unharmed.

  “Kelsey!” he called to her. “A word.”

  She approached, hands on hips. “How long do we have to stay here? I’ve got stuff to do.”

  “That’s up to Ms Jackson. In the meantime, you must not talk to the press. Do you understand?”

  “Why not, copper? She’s my kid. It’ll bring in some welcome cash. I can’t afford not to sell her story to the highest bidder.”

  “You must wait until we give you the okay,” Harry insisted. “Otherwise you could jeopardise our investigations.”

  “No need to bother investigating anything now, is there? It’s all over. She’s back and okay. I’m fine with that. Don’t stir the pot, that’s what I say.”

  “Not the way it works, I’m afraid,” Harry said.

  Kelsey shrugged and walked off, calling over her shoulder to the woman playing with Lucy, “I’m off outside for a fag.”

  “I’ll go round to the home, do an assessment and make sure Lucy is safe and being cared for properly,” Rhoda said.

  “She isn’t though, is she?” Jess replied. “How come the poor kid went missing in the first place? How did that happen?”

  “That is still under review. The statements off Kelsey and other witnesses at the time told us Lucy had gone to the park with a friend of Kelsey’s that day. Everyone there was spoken to, and all of them confirmed that when Lucy disappeared, that woman was several metres away, chatting with a group of blokes. They in turn were questioned but remembered nothing.”

 

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