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  “What else could I do? I had to look after Lara.”

  “You could have come to us. Told the truth about what happened.” Ruth had a bad feeling about this. Whatever the truth about the Norbury killing, an argument between the sisters might be a motive for murder.

  “I’m sorry. I know that now. I am Alenka Plesec, not Ingrid. Please don’t be angry. I only wanted to make sure Lara was safe till Ingrid came home. She will one day, I know it.”

  “I’m afraid we have bad news, Alenka. We believe your sister is dead.”

  Tears began running down Alenka’s face. “How did she die? What happened to her, an accident?”

  “We need to talk to you properly, down at the station. Is there someone who can look after the child for you?” Ruth said. She didn’t want to cause a scene out here. Telling the young woman that her sister had been murdered was a dreadful task.

  “There is a woman, flat three on the ground floor. I can ask her.”

  Ruth’s mobile rang. It was Calladine.

  “Have you seen the local rag?”

  “No, sorry, too busy working. Why, what rubbish have they printed now?”

  “You need to get a copy. They’ve reported on your victim. The details are all there, including the soft toy and the branding. You’ve got to stop anything further from being leaked. If you’re not careful, it’ll start a panic.”

  “What can we do? It’s out there now.”

  “For starters, you can find out who told them.”

  Chapter 18

  He had been watching her for days. Her routine rarely varied. She also had a partner who worked nights, which was a bonus. No one to ask those awkward questions, or ring the police when she didn’t come home.

  He’d watched enough. It was necessary, but boring. Now it was time to strike.

  The evening was cold, darkness falling fast. The hospital car park was unsheltered, and a stiff breeze was blowing. He turned up his overcoat collar and made his move.

  “It’ll rain before much longer. This wind keeps up, it’ll be a bad night.” He smiled. It was meant to sound like a friendly comment from a fellow visitor. But she looked straight ahead. “When does visiting time end?”

  “Seven, I think,” she said. “I’m not sure. I’m not visiting. I work here. Now I’m off home.”

  “You know the area? In that case, perhaps you can help me. I’ve come to see a relative but I don’t live round here. Do you know how I get back to the M62?”

  “There are signs at the main roundabout as you leave town. You need to go towards Oldston.”

  “Oldston?”

  Now she looked at him. She was young, but her face was drawn and tired. “Use a satnav or something.”

  Her irritation was understandable, he supposed. She probably thought he was being pushy, but it annoyed him nevertheless. He’d have to work quickly, or she’d be gone. “Perhaps I could give you a lift, and then you can show me.”

  “Who are you? What do you want?” Her eyes narrowed.

  “Like I said, I’ve been visiting a relative. But I have a distance to travel and want to make sure I take the right road.” He watched her face. She was considering this. It was spitting with rain and she only had a thin jacket on. A lift would be too tempting to refuse.

  “Which ward is your relative on?” she asked.

  Checking his story, he guessed. Well, he’d done his homework. He pointed. “Ward G4, in that block over there. Heart surgery.”

  “Okay. You can drop me at the top of our street. It’s not far into Oldston from there.”

  Success! He unlocked the car and she slid into the passenger seat beside him. She smelled of disinfectant and soap, and was wearing a green overall under the jacket. He’d assumed she was a nurse. But still, it made no difference to the end result.

  She’d seen him looking. She frowned. “I’m a cleaner. Someone has to do it, don’t they?”

  He started the engine and pulled out of the car park. Out on the road, she prattled on about the one-way system. Excited, anticipating the kill, he didn’t listen.

  “I’ll pull into that layby coming up ahead. You can show me on the map,” he said.

  She was looking away from him, staring out of the window at the rain. Easy. She wouldn’t know what hit her. He reached down beside him, took hold of the claw hammer and with a single hefty swipe, caught her on the temple. The blow knocked her out cold.

  * * *

  “We can’t ask Alenka to identify the body,” Ruth said. “It would be too traumatic. The face has been mutilated and there is the decomposition. We have to think of something else.”

  “We could have a word with the morgue. Perhaps they could cover the lower part of the face. Ask the young woman about the birthmark with the tattoo. She’ll know about that, surely?” Rocco said.

  Ruth smiled. “Good thinking, Rocco. She’s in an interview room. We’ll have a word shortly.”

  It was getting late. Alice and Joyce had already left. Ruth didn’t want to stay — it meant Jake having to see to Harry again. But she had to speak to Alenka tonight.

  Rhona Birch entered the incident room. Despite her smile, her voice had an edge to it. “Breakthrough, I believe?”

  “Yes, ma’am. We have a possible identity.”

  “And a suspect too?”

  “We have the victim’s sister, but I doubt she’s our killer. We’ve brought her in for interview, and to make a statement. She may be able to help us with the details of Ingrid’s life, especially the night she went missing.”

  Birch’s smile had vanished. “Superintendent Ford was not pleased with you questioning him like that.”

  “I would hardly call it questioning, ma’am. I didn’t get the chance. If you don’t mind me asking, why is he so reluctant to discuss the Norbury case?”

  “He’s convinced the team got the right man. Simple as that. Ford is a thorough investigator, an excellent policeman. He got results in his time, people thought highly of him. The Norbury case isn’t the only one he’s sensitive about. He puts people away. Like you and the team here, he sees what killers do. When he gets a result, and the CPS agree with the evidence, he considers his job done. He doesn’t look back, and he doesn’t expect his colleagues to do so either.”

  “He was angry, ma’am.”

  “It’s just his way.” Her tone was softer now. “He’s a volatile man, it’s true, and he does have a temper. I’m sure DI Calladine, if he ever returns, will be only too quick to tell you that.”

  Ruth wasn’t unconvinced. After her interview with Ford, she was certain that the Norbury issue was about something else entirely. But Birch was already on her way to the door.

  “Want to do this now?” Rocco asked.

  She grabbed the case file. “Let’s get on with it. It’s getting late. I was going to see Tom after work, but I’d better get off home or Jake’ll think I’ve dumped him. And I need to see to Harry. I’ve been worrying myself sick about him all day.”

  Rocco smiled. “I can pop round if you like. See what the boss’s turned up on that house he was kept in.”

  “You really do fancy becoming the doc’s lodger, don’t you?”

  Rocco shrugged. “Can’t be much fun living all the way out there on his own.”

  “Tread carefully. The doc is great and all that, but living with him would be a different matter. He’s been on his own for years.”

  “I’ve got to do something, Ruth. The rent on that flat is crippling me.”

  * * *

  Alenka Plesec was still tearful. “Am I in trouble?”

  “You’ve been masquerading as your sister. Drawing benefits in her name, for a start. I’d imagine that the DWP will want a word.” Ruth opened the file. “But for now, I want you to think about the day Ingrid went out and didn’t come back. Do you know where she went?”

  “Not exactly. But I know she had a cleaning job.”

  “Was this a regular job?” Rocco asked.

  “No. Ingrid wanted t
o start her own business. She put notices up in shop windows and advertised online. She used her mobile number for that. It was early January, just after Christmas. She got a call and said she’d have to go out.”

  “Did she say who rang her, or where she was going?”

  Alenka Plesec burst into tears all over again. “I didn’t ask. I was angry with her and we had an argument. I was supposed to go out to my night class, but I couldn’t because I was worried about Lara. Ingrid said just to leave her. I couldn’t do that. I shouted at her — she never took responsibility for the child. By the time Ingrid left the flat, we weren’t speaking.”

  “Did you hear the phone conversation?” Ruth asked.

  “Not really, but I know it was a man. Ingrid was pleased. Apparently he said that his wife was away and he needed a big clean-up after Christmas. He promised her a hundred pounds.”

  That would certainly tempt a hard-up young woman. “And she didn’t return that night?”

  Alenka shook her head.

  “Can you tell me if Ingrid had any distinguishing marks?” Ruth said.

  Alenka looked puzzled.

  “Did she have any birthmarks or moles?”

  “She has a heart shape on the nape of her neck,” Alenka said. “A friend of ours tattooed an outline around it. But you can’t see it now that Ingrid wears her hair long.”

  “Would you be prepared to take a look at the body? It would firm things up for us.”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “I must warn you that it won’t be easy. She has been dead for several weeks and her mouth was mutilated.”

  “If it’s Ingrid, then I’ll know.”

  “One of our officers will take you to the morgue. A few seconds that’s all it will take. How old was Ingrid?”

  “Twenty-three.”

  Chapter 19

  Day 5

  John Robbins had booked his car in for its MOT. The garage he used was on a side street off the bypass, in one of a number of old railway arches that had long since been converted into industrial units. A variety of businesses operated from here. Besides the garage, there was a joinery and a small firm that did sheet-metal work. The end unit was empty. The ‘to let’ sign had been there so long it was peppered with holes and barely legible. As he pulled up, Robbins saw that the old double doors were swinging in the breeze. Someone had broken in.

  It was early, and the garage wasn’t open yet. Robbins got out of his car and went for a look around. The empty unit at the end intrigued him. Years ago when he’d been a child, these railway arches were empty, and were great places to play in. He and his mates had spent many a wet afternoon inside them, building dens and playing hide and seek.

  Inside, the air was damp and cold. There was no lighting, the corners all in shadow. These days the place would be a refuge for the homeless. Perhaps it was one of them who’d left the doors open this morning.

  He took a last look, turned to go and then stopped. Something dark, smeared across the concrete, had caught his eye. Over to his right, by the wall, he saw a trail of fresh blood leading off into the corner. He squinted into the gloom. It looked as if someone had been injured and then dragged further into the arch. He called out. There could be someone lying hurt back there, unable to help themselves. Drug taking was rife among the homeless. Perhaps there’d been a fight. But there was no reply to his call. He took a few hesitant steps further inside. He’d no idea what was lurking in the gloom. He got as far as an old workbench about halfway in, when he stopped and gasped.

  A young woman, her blank eyes staring into nothing. Her throat had been cut. For a few seconds Robbins was transfixed. He’d never even seen a dead body before. And this wasn’t just a dead body, this was a murder victim he was looking at, had to be. The sight was horrific. She was nailed to something and things had been done to her. Robin gagged, then dashed outside and threw up. Then he phoned the police.

  * * *

  “It’s the same as the last one,” Rocco said.

  “Except that she’s only been dead since last night,” Ruth pointed out. “That’ll be helpful. Forensics are fresh. No decay.”

  “She was nailed to that upright beam in there. Naked, branded, and he slit her throat.”

  “What about the teddy?” Ruth asked. “CSI found any sign?”

  “He left it wedged in one of her hands, just like the others.”

  Ruth pushed back a stray lock of hair from her face. They badly needed a break. Another body meant that Birch was bound to assign Long’s team to the case. Brilliant!

  A CSI officer called to her. “We’re going to move the body out now.”

  Natasha Barrington came across and stood with Ruth and Rocco. “I’ll do the PM right away. At first sight it looks very like the last one.”

  “Do we know who she is?” asked Ruth.

  Natasha shook her head. “Not yet. But the PM might give us something.”

  Ruth’s mobile rang. Calladine.

  “We’re up to our eyes in it,” she said before he had time to speak. “We need you back, Tom. We’ve got another body, same as before. Isn’t there anything you can do to put this right? Prove your innocence?”

  “That’s in Greco’s hands.”

  “I’ll have a word when I get back to the nick. In the meantime, will you think carefully about the Norbury case? There has to be some connection with what’s happening now.”

  “What did Ford say?” Calladine asked.

  “He took my questions as a personal attack on him. He lost his cool and told me I was wrong.”

  “I want you to do something for me. I’ve traced the owners of Moortop Manse, but I’m no closer. It’s owned by a firm I’ve never heard of.”

  Just then, Rocco called out to her. “Tom, I’ve got to go. Text me the name, and I’ll look them up on the system, see if anything is known about them.” As if she didn’t have enough to do!

  “And don’t say anything to Greco. I’ve got a little surprise for him.”

  Ruth walked away from a uniform standing too close to her. “Don’t do anything stupid, Tom! We need you on the case, but go upsetting everyone and it’ll be weeks before you’re back.”

  “Trust me. I know what I’m doing.”

  * * *

  “My mind is made up, Doc. I can’t kick my heels around yours forever.” Calladine poured himself another mug of coffee. “Don’t think I’m not grateful, because I am. But there’s a job to be done, and now that a second body has been found, the team’ll be struggling.”

  “That isn’t good, I agree. But you’ve been suspended. Don’t forget, investigations are still ongoing regarding the corruption allegations against you. There’s not a lot you can do about the murders right now.”

  Calladine set down his mug hard, spilling coffee. “I’ve done nowt wrong! I was kidnapped! Given half a chance to speak up, Birch, Ford and company would see that. This is a bloody stupid state of affairs. If things had moved faster the buggers would be locked up tight.”

  “Calm down. I’m sure Ruth’ll keep you up to date with the state of play.”

  “She’ll be run off her feet. She’s at the crime scene now. From what she said, it’s the same MO as before. I need to be there. See the evidence, talk to the witnesses first hand.”

  “Do you know who owns that house you were taken to?” Doc Hoyle asked.

  “Some organisation whose name I don’t know. I haven’t got any further. Next thing is to find out what they do.”

  “Simple enough job, Tom. If it’s a limited company, an internet search will give you the names of the directors.”

  “I’ll work on that later. For now my head is full of job stuff. I can see Ruth now, doing her scalded cat impression, Birch snapping at her heels, wailing for results. I can’t sit by and let the team suffer.”

  Calladine went upstairs to change, leaving Doc Hoyle staring after him. Ten minutes later he reappeared, wearing a suit, complete with shirt and tie.

  The doc smiled. “DCI B
irch is not that impressionable. You might look good, but she’s a hard nut.”

  “It’s not her I’m going to see. I want a word with Greco.”

  Chapter 20

  Jackie Lomax, Greco’s banker friend, got back to him that morning. “It’s good to hear from you, Stephen. We’ve missed you.” She laughed. “Quiz nights in the ‘Boatman’ are just not the same. I read in the papers what happened to Suzy. I am sorry, Stephen. You must have been devastated.”

  “I was.” His tone ruled out further talk on the matter. “What have you got for me?”

  “The money has led me a merry dance, I can tell you. It was transferred several times, from bank to bank. A couple of them were offshore.”

  “Someone did want to cover their tracks?”

  “Up to a point. But with patience and the right access, it wasn’t impossible to unravel the trail. The money originated from a company called ‘Heights Industrial.’ Ever heard of them?”

  “Never. Could you find any connection at all to one Vincent Costello?”

  “Nothing, Stephen. And I did a thorough search. The money has gone nowhere near him, nor any organisation he is, or has ever been, involved with.”

  That was good news for Calladine. “Thanks, Jackie. I owe you a favour.”

  Greco replaced the receiver and at once the phone rang again.

  “Can we meet?”

  “DI Calladine?” Tom Calladine was the last person he expected to hear from. “Where are you?”

  “Near enough.”

  “Do you know what’s been going on? Where did you disappear to?”

  “I don’t want to talk over the phone. There’s a café behind the bus station in Leesdon. Meet me there in half an hour. Don’t tell anyone. We need to talk.”

  Greco wrote the name ‘Heights Industrial’ on a notepad he kept in his jacket pocket. He would keep the rendezvous. He had no idea what was going on, but after the call from Jackie Lomas, he was certain that Tom Calladine hadn’t taken a bribe, or disappeared out of choice.

  * * *

  Greco found Calladine sitting in a window seat facing the bus station, sipping coffee.