“Don’t worry, we’ll find you somewhere.”
* * *
Harry could have killed Jess. Why did she have to stick her nose in? The last thing he wanted was Sandy under his feet. Once he was in Don’s house, out of earshot and heading for the shower, he rang her.
“You’ve given me one huge problem,” he said angrily. “Your little heart-to-heart with Greg Laing has resulted in a visit from Sandy.”
“What’s wrong with that? You should be pleased. He’s an old friend, after all. Now you can have that catch-up.”
“Don’t try being flippant with me, Jess, it’s no joke. Sandy belongs back home, on his own patch, far away from mine.”
“Why, Harry? Why won’t you let anyone from your past into your present life? What are you hiding? All this secrecy is beginning to piss me off. We’ve worked together for two years and I can count the things I know about you on the fingers of one hand.”
“I’m really not that interesting, so butt out.”
He finished the call. Jess had no right to interfere like this. He’d just finished dressing and was on his way back to join Sandy when there was a call from a PC who was helping with the Lucy Green case.
“DI Maxwell asked me to ring you,” he said. “He’s found out something regarding the shoes that were found on the path. Turns out they were bought from Allen’s in town but had to be ordered because they didn’t have the right colour in stock. The order specified the correct size so the kid must have been measured for them sometime before she disappeared. They were paid for in cash.”
“Do we know who bought them?”
“This is why DI Maxwell said I should update you, sir. He knows you’re off the case, but the person who ordered and paid for the shoes was a young woman. The way the owner described her I thought it sounded like Kelsey Green, the mother. What makes this interesting is the date, it was after Lucy went missing.”
If Kelsey ordered those shoes, it meant she knew where Lucy was. Otherwise, why order them? So why pretend she’d been taken? Harry would have a word with the staff at Allen’s himself, show them a photo of Kelsey and see if they recognised her.
Chapter Twenty-nine
“I’ve got to go to work, Sandy,” Harry told his friend when he returned. He saw his friend’s face fall and immediately felt guilty. It’ll be okay, he told himself. But apprehension was making him edgy. The last thing Harry wanted was his past shoving in his face.
“What, no chat? No breakfast? But, laddie, you promised.”
Fair comment. He owed him that much. Sandy had come a long way. All Harry wanted was to get him out of the way, but the least he could do was feed him first. “Okay, but it’ll have to be quick.”
“Off to the station then?”
“No, a newsagents’ about five miles away. I’m knee deep in a murder case, Sandy. I really don’t have a lot of time for socialising.”
“You don’t have to worry about me, I can amuse myself. That sergeant of yours, is she going with you?”
“No, I’ll ring her in a bit. She can get on with something else.” A thought suddenly occurred to Harry. “If you do bump into her and she asks, you’re an old friend of the family. All right? When you rang the other day, you caught me on the hop. Jess was curious. If I’d told her anything else, there’d have been questions, hence the lie.”
“I’m honoured, but why not just tell her the truth, that I’m your old boss and proud of it? We worked well together, we were a good team, until . . .”
Harry gave the older man a quizzical look. “You sure about the team thing? Because if I was you, I’d be wondering about that.”
“Oh, I’ve got questions, and some theories, but another time. Later perhaps, over a pint.”
That tone. Harry knew it of old. There was unfinished business between them. The ageing DCI was evidently happy to play the long game.
“Look, I’ve no problem with you being here, but I just ask one thing. If you spend any time with Jess, my sergeant, don’t bring up the past or anything to do with my work in Glasgow. She will ask, she’s nosy, that’s what makes her such a good detective.”
“Okay, I’ll keep it light. Point me in the direction of a reasonable bed and breakfast and I’ll be fine. Perhaps some food first though, and then I’ll have a wander around the town until you get back from work. Tonight, we’ll go to your local and have that talk.”
Harry nodded. He didn’t relish the prospect. He knew where ‘that talk’ might lead. And Sandy with a drink inside him could be trouble.
* * *
At the café in the shopping mall, Harry got a coffee to go and left Sandy tucking into the works and chatting happily with Elsie. Harry knew he should take Jess with him, but he couldn’t face the interrogation. He rang and left her a message. He wanted the mobile records for Ryan Cassidy, Nick Sutton, and Andy Marsh. Urgently. He’d look at them later. He also wanted to ensure that the brown paper envelope had reached the Reid okay. The more he thought about it, the more he believed that someone was using Ryan Cassidy, pointing them in his direction as a smokescreen, albeit a temporary one.
First thing on his list was the shoe shop. He had to know for sure who it was that collected the pair ordered for Lucy. Fortunately for Harry, the owner of Allen’s Shoes, one Irfan Hussain, remembered the woman who had picked them up.
Harry showed Irfan Kelsey’s photo on his mobile. “Is this her?”
Irfan took the mobile and studied the image. “Ah yes. That is the woman. Very loud she was. We had to search for the package in the back and she became very agitated, said she had somewhere to be. I remember her because she was pretty rude, actually. Swore at me.”
“And she paid cash?”
“Yes. I recall it because she had a bundle of fifty pound notes in her purse. Something else, I had the feeling she didn’t want to be seen,” Irfan said. “She acted as if she was hiding her face from that camera up there.”
“What date was this?”
“Exactly two weeks ago. I remember because it was the same day as my wife’s birthday.”
“Has she been back since?” Harry asked.
“No, she’s not a regular.”
Harry went back to his car. There was no doubt, Kelsey had collected the shoes weeks after Lucy’s disappearance. There was no logical reason for that other than she’d known very well that her daughter was alive and well. What he couldn’t understand was why Kelsey had staged her own daughter’s disappearance. Why would she do that? Money, he supposed. This case posed mystery after mystery and it was doing Harry’s head in.
Chapter Thirty
“Get anything?” Jess asked.
Harry had just come into the main office. “More stuff that doesn’t add up,” he said. “You?”
“All three of them — Sutton, Marsh and Cassidy — made and received calls from pay-as-you-go mobiles with no contact attached to them. In each case no more than twice, and it was a different mobile number for each of them,” Jess said.
“A different number for each call — security gone wild. Wonder why?”
“If it was the same caller, they were probably trying to confuse us. Marsh and Sutton both used their personal mobiles the evening they were last seen, Marsh made a call to Babs, and Sutton to Caroline.”
That made sense. “About earlier,” he said. “Sorry if I was a bit off.”
“A bit! You were bloody awful, and for no reason either. I’ve done you a favour. You could do with seeing someone from home, it’ll do you good.”
Harry doubted that. Having to deal with Sandy over the next day or so would be like negotiating a complex game of chess. And he’d likely be the loser.
“We’ll have to speak to Martha again,” he said soberly. “I think someone’s trying to ensure Martha’s lot are in the frame for as much as possible. I just don’t know why, other than they are well known troublemakers.”
“We’ll have that word and while we’re at it, see what she has to say about Lancashire Ho
ldings,” Jess said.
But Harry shook his head. “I don’t think we should do that.”
“Why not? How many reasons do you need? Ryan is named as a director of that company. Martha might be an innocent party, but she could also be complicit. We need to interview her properly, Harry. Find out what she knows.”
Jess was studying Harry’s notes. “The Cassidys are a rough bunch, they steal things and are ready to use their fists instead of talking stuff through. Perhaps whoever is orchestrating this wants rid of them every bit as much as they wanted rid of Sutton and Marsh. Whatever is planned for that factory and those houses, they don’t want any interference from Martha and her clan,” Jess suggested.
“Yes, but all that’ll happen is that they’ll be interviewed, their alibis checked and then they’re off the hook. They’re hardly out of the way for long,” Harry said.
“Okay, ties us up and diverts attention from the real perpetrators. How about that?” Jess said.
Jess could have something there. He beamed at her. “I think you’ve got it. Gold star, DS Wilde. Have we heard back from the lab yet? Anything on the PMs?”
“Both bodies have been formally identified and Melanie phoned to say we can see her and discuss the preliminary findings this afternoon,” Jess said.
“Let’s hope she’s found something helpful.”
“You had another call while you were out. Sandy Munroe. He wondered if we’d like to have lunch with him in the Crown, the pub across the road. Said he’d be there from twelve. What d’you think?”
Harry felt his stomach clench. This was only the beginning. “I think we’re far too busy for pub lunches.”
Jess smiled. “You never said he was coming down. He sounds nice.”
“He is, but he’ll have a reason for being here. My advice is don’t get drawn in,” Harry said.
“That reason will be you, Harry. He’s worried about you.”
“You’ve got that wrong. The reason he’s here is because of your little tête-à-tête with Laing.”
Jess scowled at him. “Blame me if you must, but you were really shaken up that day at the Reid. You heard a name and promptly threw up. What was I supposed to do? If you need help, then say so. And stop being so secretive. If you hadn’t built up this big mystery around yourself, Harry Lennox, no one would be interested.”
Harry couldn’t listen to any more of this. He stalked out and went to get a coffee from the canteen. Jess had a point. Perhaps he should start talking about his past, tell her just enough to stem the torrent of questions. It might work.
Ten minutes later, he returned with a coffee and put it down on her desk. “Here, I forgive you. And you’re right, you should meet Sandy, he’s a good laugh, but perhaps later, once we’ve finished for the day.”
Jess nodded. “What’re we doing about Martha then? Do we pick her up or send a riot van?”
“We’ll go, but we won’t bring her in. I’ll have a word with her somewhere quiet. I don’t want to antagonise the woman any more than I have to.”
Jess smiled. “And she likes you, don’t forget that. By the way, Melanie’s been on again, reckons she’s found something. What’s it to be, Martha first or what?”
“We’ll do both. The Reid, and on the way back we’ll call in on the Cassidys. Did Melanie say what she’d got?”
“No, only that it might help.”
Chapter Thirty-one
Dr Melanie Clarke had Sutton and Marsh laid out side by side on the morgue tables. “It’s as I told you, both were suspended by the right arm for some time while still alive. The right shoulder joints are completely detached and there is extensive bruising. Both died from a single bullet wound to the head. The bodies have been cleaned, skin tests show a bleach solution, probably used to get rid of foreign DNA, but it wasn’t used on the dismembered hands. Both men had bruised knuckles, the hands were dirty and there was oil under the fingernails.”
“They put up a fight,” Jess said.
Harry nodded. “They were hard men. If trapped, they would fight their corner. The oil — any joy with the Cassidy workshop?”
“No, that isn’t a match, but I haven’t done tests on the samples taken from the haulage yard yet,” Melanie said. She held up her finger. “But there is something. I found this on Marsh’s body.” She pointed to Andy Marsh’s cheek.
The white face with the waxy sheen of death looked unblemished to Harry. “What am I looking at?”
“What I think is a faint kiss mark,” she said. “So far, all we have is that it is lipstick in a deep red shade. We’ll do a full analysis and try to confirm the brand and the colour.”
Harry was weighing up how this might help. So, a woman. All very well provided they found one who wore the same make. “What about DNA?” he asked.
“We’ll try, but the sample is minute, and it has been degraded by the sluicing down in the container.”
“Someone kissed him goodbye,” Harry said.
“His wife?” Jess asked.
“I doubt it. Lisa is devastated. I can’t see her being party to the murder of her husband in such a brutal fashion, but we’ll speak to her again. We need a better picture of their relationship. For all we know, Andy Marsh was a womaniser, although we’ve heard no rumours.”
“Anything else?” Jess asked.
“We’re still testing,” Melanie said. “Don’t worry, we get something, you’ll be the first to know.”
“I’ll add Lisa to the list,” Jess said on their way out. “One thing we can be fairly sure of, that lipstick didn’t come from Martha. Not her thing at all.”
The idea of the tough, butch woman who wielded a wrench for a living wearing red lippy made Harry smile. “Who then? Not Martha, and I don’t reckon Lisa. That doesn’t leave us much to go on.”
Jess shrugged. “Like you said, we’ll just have to find out a lot more about Marsh’s private life.”
* * *
Harry felt strangely nervous about tackling Martha. Unusual, as it was normally personal problems that made his stomach clench the way it was now.
“It’ll be fine,” Jess said, glancing at his set expression. “She’s hardly likely to attack you, is she? Martha’s well aware of the consequences.”
That wasn’t a certainty. Say the wrong thing, give her a look she didn’t like, and all hell could be let loose. “Wait here,” he said.
They had stopped in the yard outside the Cassidy workshop. Despite the time, well after five, the place was still open. Harry could hear the radio blaring away inside.
“Martha, a word!” he called from the doorway.
She raised a pair of heavy-lidded eyes from the car engine she was working on. Harry sensed her gaze boring into him.
“What now?”
“A few questions, Martha. Nothing to get excited about.”
She walked towards him, wiping her oily, calloused hands on a rag. “Go on then, ask away.”
“Does the name Lancashire Holdings mean anything to you?” he said.
“Yes, it does. They want me to work for them.”
Well, that was straightforward enough. “Have you met anyone from the company?”
“No, but I’ve had calls and a letter. They made me a good offer. A hefty upfront payment to show willing, and then we’ll do regular work on their vehicles.”
“What do they do, exactly? How do they make their money?” he asked.
With a shrug, she took a sheet of paper from a hook on the wall. “It says here long-distance haulage. I haven’t asked them, why should I? I just accepted the offer straight off. I’m in no position to turn them down. Business is slow round here, folk have no money for car repairs and I’ve got a family to feed.”
She handed Harry the sheet, which bore the Lancashire Holdings letterhead. It stated that the Cassidys would get paid the going rate for each job done as well as a monthly retainer.
“The bloke who rang me said the only condition is that they must get priority. They call, we repair
. No waiting and no excuses. Tough deal, but there’s not much else coming in, so what choice do I have?”
“What about the work you do for Craig Sutton? Surely that brings the money in.”
“He throws us the odd bone now and again, just to keep the peace I reckon, but there’s no way the work we get from him pays the bills. They have some firm in Stockfield that does the bulk of their work.”
She looked strained. Martha might show the world a hard exterior, but she always did her best for her family. “Sorry, Martha, I didn’t know things were that tight.”
“Tight? I’ll say they are. When I got the offer from Lancashire Holdings, I could hardly believe my luck. Saved our bacon and no mistake.”
Harry knew that they’d chosen the Cassidy garage for a reason. And they’d offered Martha a deal they knew damn well she wouldn’t refuse.
“The man who rang you — local, was he?” he asked.
“No, a foreigner. Couldn’t tell you where from.”
“Did you know they’ve attempted to implicate your Ryan in a bit of mischief?” Harry said.
It was obvious from the look on her face that she didn’t. “What now? Our Ryan can get into enough trouble without needing any help.”
“We’re investigating a number of murders, Martha, heavy stuff, and every time we turn round, your Ryan’s name appears. For a start, he’s down as being this Lancashire Holdings’ one and only director. The murders took place in a container belonging to them. What can you tell me about that?”
With a groan, Martha threw the spanner she’d been holding onto a metal bench, where it landed with a clang. “That’ll be my fault,” she admitted. “This bloke, the one who rang and sent me that,” she nodded at the letter. “He wanted it that way. I didn’t see any harm in it. I didn’t know what they were up to, just haulage as far as I knew, like it says on there. He said our Ryan could have a good job once things took off.”
“I believe they gave Ryan quite a bit of money. Does he know about your arrangement?”
“Ryan’s a bit simple. I gave him the papers to sign and he did as he was told. That’ll be what the money was for.” She looked worried, not like Martha at all. “Is he in trouble? He hasn’t done anything, just gone along with what I’ve told him to do. If you have to arrest anyone, it’ll have to be me. But I’m telling you now, I thought I was getting into a simple business arrangement, not murder. We both know my family has a reputation. Okay, the boys did a bit of thieving in the past but I put a stop to that. And I don’t let them near drugs, despite what you might hear.”
THE GUILTY MAN an absolutely gripping crime mystery with a massive twist (Detectives Lennox & Wilde Thrillers Book 1) Page 11