Two Victims

by Helen H. Durrant

  “Can you think of anyone in particular that got annoyed by it?” Rachel asked.

  “No, not really, it’s just a bit inconvenient,” Lorraine said. “At busy times seats are in short supply, and they can get a bit rowdy. A lot of them out there are on drugs. Their hygiene leaves a lot to be desired. They get drunk and angry, and they annoy people by asking for money.”

  “There are a couple of young girls waiting. What’s their story?” Elwyn asked.

  “Much the same. They’ll be rough sleepers too. The young girls trusted Agnes. They were her special project. She offered contraception advice and the like.”

  “How did Agnes deal with the troublemakers?” Rachel asked.

  Lorraine seemed to freeze. “There’s been no one in particular bothering Agnes, if that’s what you’re getting at. We have cameras, and we’ve contracted a security firm. Any trouble, it just takes a phone call or someone to press the alarm button and we can have them removed.”

  “In that case why not get them to clear the waiting room?” Rachel asked.

  “We don’t like turning people away.”

  “How do the other staff feel about treating them?” Elwyn asked.

  “If someone’s registered, they don’t have much choice. If anyone at the hostel has a problem, they send them here. Another initiative of Agnes’s.” Lorraine grimaced. “One of the doctors runs a clinic three times a week. He tries to help. Well, we all do what we can. But Agnes was the driving force behind all our efforts.”

  “She sounds like a good woman, the sort who should have been popular,” Rachel remarked. “Do you know who her friends were? If she went out much?”

  Lorraine shrugged. “I’ve no idea. We chatted and went for the occasional drink and, like I said, she borrowed my suitcase. But that was it.”

  “Was she close to anyone else here?” Rachel said.

  “I don’t think so, apart from that sister of hers. Kept herself private, did Agnes. Look, I really can’t help you, and I need to get on.”

  Rachel stood up. “Thanks for your help.”

  As soon as they were outside, Rachel said, “We’ll visit that hostel up the road.”

  “Not now we won’t,” Elwyn said. “Have you seen the time? It’ll take us thirty minutes at least to get back to the station. Look at that road, it’s chocka.”

  Rachel thought of the meeting looming ahead and groaned. “You’re right. I’d better not keep Harding waiting. They’re not going to like what I have to tell them as it is. We’re not leaving that site until Jude is absolutely sure there are no more bodies there.”

  They were just getting into the car when she saw a teenage girl waving at them. Rachel was certain she hadn’t seen her in the waiting room.

  “Is Agnes okay?” the girl called out.

  “Do you know her?” Rachel asked.

  “Yes. She promised to help me. I’ve been looking for her.”

  The girl was skimpily dressed, in a short red skirt and matching crop top. She walked towards them, shivering, her arms around her flat chest. But the most striking thing about the girl was her bright pink hair hanging in strands around her face. Her eyes were dark, hollow. Rachel wondered if she was on something.

  “Do you go to the hostel?” she asked.

  The girl shook her head. “Look, I shouldn’t have spoken to you. I have to go.” Abruptly, she turned and legged it up the road.

  Elwyn watched her go. “Interesting. I got the impression that young lady had a lot more to say.”

  “She was scared. Did you see her eyes? She didn’t take them off the passing traffic. She was worried stiff in case she was seen talking to us. We need to go after her, Elwyn, get her to speak to us. Find out how she knew Agnes. She might be able to help us.”

  “You haven’t got time now, Rachel. That meeting with Harding won’t wait. We’ll come back,” Elwyn said. “Then we’ll go through the houses and businesses up and down this street like a dose of salts. Someone will know her.”

  Chapter Seven

  Ruby was tired. She felt as if she’d been running for miles. In order to avoid the police, she’d dodged in and out of the side streets and alleyways. Confident she’d lost them, she leaned against a shop wall, gasping for breath. They were looking for Agnes. Something must’ve happened to her. The policewoman hadn’t said anything specific, but Ruby knew it couldn’t be good — otherwise why would they be here? She felt sick. This was all her fault. If only she hadn’t asked Agnes for help.

  A car drew to a halt at the kerbside. “What the hell d’you think you’re doing, running round like that?” the driver shouted. “Get in the bloody car!”

  Shaking with fear, Ruby clambered into the passenger seat. “My medication isn’t ready yet,” she lied. “The woman in the health centre said to hang on, but I was suffocating in that waiting room.”

  “Lying little cow! You were talking to that bitch from the police.”

  “I didn’t say anything! I wouldn’t.” A sharp blow to the side of her head made her cry out in pain.

  “You’d better not be lying to me. We have an arrangement, and despite what you think has happened, that still stands.”

  “I needed to see the nurse, that’s all,” she whined. “Please don’t hurt me.”

  “Why? What the hell’s wrong with you? You know the drill. You’re unwell, you come to me first.”

  “My shoulder, Nicu . . . you know how it gets.”

  “I’ll give you something when we get back,” he said.

  Ruby closed her eyes. She could see no way out of this nightmare. The last time she’d spoken to Agnes, she had offered her a safe place to stay and help to get free. Only now did Ruby realise what an opportunity this had been. But she’d let it slip through her fingers. Agnes had warned her about the people she worked for. They were brutal, she said. And they were.

  “Carry on like this, dodging off every chance you get, and you know what’ll happen,” he was saying.

  “Oh? What’s that? The same as happened to some of the others?” Ruby shrank back into the seat, dreading his reaction. “Take that blonde girl. One day she was fine, the next she was gone. I can’t get my head round it. How can I if you don’t tell me anything?”

  But the expected blow didn’t come. “You all know the score, don’t break the rules. Take it as a warning. Keep your head down, do as you’re told and we’ll all be happy. It’s dead simple. An idiot could do it.”

  Ruby’s mind was in turmoil. The rumours about what had happened to the blonde girl were flying around. One of the other girls said she’d been killed. The thought of it made Ruby sick with fear. And now Agnes was missing and couldn’t help her either. One thing was certain, one way or another, she had to get free.

  * * *

  Rachel ran her long fingers through her unruly red hair and stared at her reflection in the mirror. She needed some make-up — something to give her face a bit of colour, lift the pallor. Trouble was, she didn’t usually wear any, so had none with her. She could ask Amy Metcalfe, she supposed, but decided against it. It would only cause gossip in the office. Rooting through her desk drawer, she found an old lipstick of Megan’s. She’d no idea how it got there, but it would have to do. She slicked a coat of the deep pink shade across her mouth and took another look in the mirror. Not bad. Not as glamourous as Jed McAteer was probably used to these days, but did she really care? She sighed. The answer was yes, as always. Part of her still loved him. Rachel closed her eyes. Silly bitch. The man takes care of number one, you know that. He doesn’t give a damn about you or what you look like.

  “You look knockout,” Elwyn said when she passed through the main office. “Don’t take any flack. Stick to your guns.”

  “I will, don’t you worry. That site is ours until I say different. And as for the flattery, all that’ll get you is a kick up the backside, DS Pryce.” She giggled at him.

  Minutes later, she was nervously tapping on Harding’s door. She’d not seen Jed since Mia’s kidn
apping. Well, she had to hand it to him, he did deserve credit for being on the ball that day. It was down to him that Mia had been saved. The bottom line was, she owed him. Nevertheless, he was an irritant she didn’t need. The job was hard enough without the added complication of an ex-lover who also happened to be a criminal.

  “DCI King,” Harding said. “Do take a seat.”

  The two men were seated at a small round table by the window. Since it was the only free chair, she had no choice but to sit next to Jed.

  “You’ve met Mr McAteer before, I believe,” Harding began.

  Rachel’s heart missed a beat. What did Harding know?

  “During the Brough case,” he continued.

  Oh, relief. He must have read it in a report.

  A half smile on his lips and a twinkle in his eyes, Jed McAteer sipped at his coffee as if he didn’t have a care in the world. He looked Rachel up and down before giving her a nod.

  “When can I have my site back?” he said. “I don’t want to cause hassle, but every day lost leaves a real dent in my budget.”

  Rachel immediately saw red. “Don’t you mean profit, Mr McAteer?”

  “We’ve been contracted to do a job. We work to time. If the final product is up to scratch, the families who eventually live in those houses get a good deal. We have people waiting to move in. We meet with delays and the cost will inevitably rise, and then everybody loses.”

  “Two bodies were found on that land,” she said, trying to avoid his gaze. “One had been there for some time. Our forensic people need to make sure that there are no others and gather all the evidence available. That will take a day or two, I’m afraid, and there’s nothing we can do about it.”

  She saw the look. Jed was trying to keep that temper of his under control. If they hadn’t been in Harding’s office, he’d have let rip.

  He was silent for a few moments. Then he tried a different tack. “Perhaps I can help. We have plenty of heavy lifting and digging gear. Anything you need, just give me a call.”

  He accompanied the offer with a charming smile that made her stomach lurch. Damn him! Rachel leaned back in her chair. Why did he have to come across as so bloody reasonable and look so good doing it? She had no doubt in her mind that this offer was for Harding’s benefit. “That’s good of you,” she said. “I will speak to forensics in the morning and let you know what they say.”

  “Is there any possibility that we can work on part of the site?” he asked.

  Rachel sighed. “Until we know for sure that there are no more bodies, the answer has to be no. We are as keen as you are to get this wrapped up, Mr McAteer, but the search will have to run its course, I’m afraid.”

  “Well, all I can say is that a swift conclusion to this would be appreciated.”

  “Is that all, sir?” Rachel asked Harding. He nodded.

  Rachel couldn’t wait to get out of there. With a hasty, “Have a good evening, gentlemen,” she closed the door behind her.

  * * *

  The main office was empty except for Elwyn, who was still at his desk. “What is McAteer doing cosying up to Harding? I don’t know what’s going on in that twisted mind of his, but I don’t like it one bit.”

  “Money, Rachel. I’ve been checking up on McAteer and he’s made a substantial donation to the police benevolent fund.”

  “Slimy little git! So that’s his plan, is it? Buy his reputation back. He won’t get far with that. The man’s a villain and villains don’t change.”

  “What have you agreed to?” Elwyn asked.

  “Nothing much. He’s offered the use of the equipment on the site, should we need it.” She flopped down beside Elwyn. “I’m sick of this. He worms his way in, buys Harding’s respect with a load of cash and we’ve suddenly got to toe the line. What is it with him? What’s his secret? No one sees through him. Everyone he meets these days thinks he’s Mister Wonderful!”

  “You’re tired. It’s been a long day. You should go home and have a rest. Tomorrow we’ve got the PM on the other body and the search for the girl with pink hair.”

  “Don’t you stay too late either.” She stood up and looked over his shoulder. “What’ve you got there?”

  “It’s the brochure for those houses McAteer’s building. The specs look good and they’re in a convenient position for work.”

  Rachel stared at him, aghast. “You have to be joking! You’d buy a house from Jed McAteer?”

  “They’re in my price range, Rachel. I can’t afford to be choosy.”

  “Just make sure you know what you’re doing. I wouldn’t trust him if I were you. The man’s a weasel!”

  * * *

  It was a good half hour’s drive to Rachel’s home in the Cheshire village of Poynton. When she and Alan had divorced, she’d bought a couple of rundown semi-detached cottages, planning to knock them into one and do them up. But it hadn’t happened. Work, stress and money dictated that the first cottage was sorted but the second was put on the market, and to her surprise, Alan had bought it. That was several years ago now, and Rachel had got over her initial irritation at having her ex right next door. As it turned out, it was damn useful.

  Tonight, he’d made dinner and was sitting with Mia at her kitchen table, both of them poring over her homework.

  “Quadratic equations,” he said. “As I recall, there’s some sort of formula to solve them.”

  “Don’t ask me. All that weird maths stuff evaporated out of my brain years ago.” She looked at Mia. “Go and google it.”

  Mia gathered up her books and went out.

  “I was waiting for you,” Alan said, once they were alone. “I thought we could have that talk.”

  Rachel groaned inwardly. She had no energy left for a fight with Alan. If he did know about McAteer, he’d end up ranting, and she was not in the mood.

  “Does it have to be now?” she said.

  “It’s important.”

  She sat down opposite him. “Okay, but if you’re going to get angry, shelve it. I don’t want Mia upsetting.”

  “There’s nothing to get angry about,” he said. “It’s just a bit tricky, that’s all.”

  Oh, so it wasn’t what she’d thought. Rachel was intrigued.

  He coughed, sounding embarrassed. “I’ve met someone. I’ve been seeing her for a while, actually. She’s nice, you’ll like her.”

  Rachel certainly hadn’t expected that. She smiled at him and poured herself a glass of wine from the bottle on the table. “That’s a relief. We were beginning to wonder what we’d done. Mia thinks you’ve been off with her — she was having a go at breakfast. But it’s to do with your new lady friend, isn’t it? You’re afraid the kids might not approve.”

  “I’m terrified, to be honest. Belinda was coming round this evening but I put her off. I wanted to tell you first.”

  “You don’t have to explain yourself to me, Alan. I think it’s great news,” Rachel said. “Do you want me to tell the girls?”

  “It might be better coming from you. I thought the three of you could come to mine for tea tomorrow and meet Belinda.”

  “That would be good. Don’t worry, I’m sure the girls will be fine about it.”

  “Good. Well, I’ll get off now, if you’re okay.” He bent down and kissed her cheek.

  Rachel was gobsmacked. Up until recently, she’d firmly believed that Alan wanted her back. Seems she was way off beam. What a relief. Despite having been divorced for a few years now, she’d never really felt like a free woman.

  Chapter Eight

  Day Two

  “There’s a homeless hostel on Ashton Old Road, Beswick,” Rachel told her team. “I want it checking out. Jonny, Amy, make that your task for the morning. Take note of the clientele and speak to the staff. Agnes tried to help the people who use it. She arranged for them to attend the health centre if they had a problem. Find out if she was involved with anyone in particular — if she was liked, if the regulars trusted her. Also check if many women or young girl
s use the shelter.” She was thinking of the girl who’d approached them yesterday.

  “Rachel?” Elwyn tapped his computer screen. “Agnes’s debit card has been used. This morning, at an ATM in Beswick.”

  “Get onto the bank, see if they have cameras. Find out Agnes’s financial details while you’re at it.”

  “Don’t forget the PM,” he said.

  Rachel checked her watch. “I’ll get down there now. Join me when you can.”

  Rachel had a lot on her mind, not least the fact that whoever had used that card must know Agnes’s PIN. Did that mean she’d been forced to reveal it? Perhaps they had her bag and had found it written down somewhere.

  They had two bodies. Her gut told her there had to be a connection, but how? With luck, the PM would reveal sufficient details about the other body to give them a start. It was a big ask, but Jude was a brilliant forensic specialist. Rachel hurried out towards her car.

  * * *

  “You know what, Rachel? The old saying that the dead cannot speak is utterly wrong,” Jude said. “The forensic evidence is there, we just have to find it. We already know she was young, blonde and took care of her appearance.” Rachel gave her a questioning look. Jude smiled. “The nail varnish.”

  She certainly wasn’t pleasant to look at now. Two months in the soil had wreaked havoc. Some of the decomposing soft tissue was already separating from the bones, and the smell was something else.

  “It’s difficult to tell from the state she’s in, but I think she was a pretty little thing,” Butterfield remarked. “She has good facial bone structure. There is no doubt in my mind that she died from a bullet wound in the head. I will look carefully at what’s left of the brain and see if I can find a bullet.” He pointed to a hole in the back of her skull. “It went in here,” he said. “And there is another hole here, in the temple.”

  “Exit wound?” Rachel asked.

  “Possibly.” He looked at Jude. “If the bullet isn’t in the body, do a further search of that trench. It’s possible she was knocked to the ground, shot at close range and the bullet passed straight through.