Two Victims Page 15

  No matter which way Rachel looked at this web of connections, it all came back to the Blakes. They owned the club and provided the pink outfits the girls wore to work in. Despite what he said at interview, Rachel was convinced that Danulescu was employed by the Blakes as muscle. Poor Jonny would testify to that. It was too much of a coincidence for Rachel. Ronan Blake had to be the prime suspect for head man of the trafficking gang Kenton was chasing.

  Taking her mobile from her pocket, she rang Amy at the station. “Remind me, what did we find on the Blakes?”

  “Aren’t you supposed to be resting, ma’am? The case will wait.”

  “Just tell me what you’ve found.”

  “Very little,” Amy said. “Ronan Blake has built up his business over the last twenty years. He’s invested in shops, cafes, clubs and property. During that time, he’s never been in trouble, and none of his clubs have ever been busted, until we stormed in.”

  “You’re sure? No drug dealing? Nothing?”

  “Not as far as we can see, ma’am.”

  “Dig a bit deeper, Amy. Find out where the money came from to buy those businesses. The Blakes aren’t as law abiding as they appear. I want detail and quick. I suspect Ronan Blake changed his name at some point, probably before he adopted the respectable businessman persona.”

  “I’ll do my best, ma’am.”

  “Get Elwyn to help you. Has Kenton gone?” Rachel asked.

  “He left soon after you did. He’s had Leonora Blake transferred to Salford.”

  “That speaks volumes. He obviously suspects her, and her husband too.”

  * * *

  Arriving home, Rachel saw Belinda Bellamy’s car on Alan’s drive. She couldn’t help smiling to herself. They made an odd couple, but as long as Alan was happy, that’s all that mattered.

  Her eldest girl was surprised to see her. “God! Has the world ended? What are you doing home?” Megan exclaimed. “Or perhaps you’ve forgotten something?”

  The last thing Rachel wanted right now was a spat with Megan. “Oh, I was shot at,” she said nonchalantly. “Downside of the job.” She put her keys and mobile on the hall table and went into the sitting room. She poured herself a stiff drink.

  “You’re joking?” A shocked Megan followed her. “You’re not, are you? Your hand’s shaking. Are you okay, Mum?”

  “I’m not hurt if that’s what you mean. But I am pretty shaken up, and I’ve got a horrible noise in my ears.” She took a swig of the brandy. “A man was killed within inches of me. It only took an instant. He dropped like a stone.”

  “Will it be on the news?” Megan asked.

  “Probably.”

  Megan threw her arms around her mother. “Has it got something to do with the other night? I know I go on and say stuff, but I don’t mean it.”

  “This isn’t your fault, Meggy. The job can be dangerous, we shouldn’t lose sight of that. As for the other night, it is loosely connected. I reckon your mate Nicu is mixed up with some dodgy people.”

  “Well, he’s not my mate. Me and the others have been talking, and we’ve decided not to risk going again.”

  That was something at least. “The latest contact with Shannon about the party — do nothing, we’ll take over from here. If Nicu turns up, we’ll have him.”

  Megan nodded. “You will be careful, won’t you? I know the job’s important and all that, but me and Mia need you.”

  Rachel nodded. “I know that, love. Today was a one off. That sort of thing doesn’t happen very often.” She downed the rest of the brandy.

  “Why don’t you have a lie down? I’ll get some tea together and give you a shout in a while.”

  Rachel nodded. A rest would do her good — if she could sleep, that was. Given how her mind was racing, Rachel feared she might never sleep again.

  * * *

  It was dark. The alleyway was shrouded in shadow, and Ruby was becoming more afraid by the minute. Anything could happen and no one would know. The back alleys of Manchester were dangerous at night, everyone said as much. It would have been safer to stay by the shops on Market Street, but that was out of the question. Ruby daren’t risk being found. She pulled the old blanket around her bony shoulders and huddled deeper into the doorway. She was cold. She’d been coughing all day and her chest hurt. She felt dreadful.

  “Want a swig, love?” he said in a deep gravelly voice, holding a whisky bottle just out of reach.

  “Don’t drink.”

  “Liar! I’ve seen you in the gardens off your face. Go on, take a good long swallow. Warm you up.”

  This was too much for Ruby to deal with. She’d been on the run all day and was exhausted. All she wanted was to close her eyes for an hour and doze in peace.

  “Got any dosh?”

  “No,” she said.

  “Girl like you, pretty an all, you should be pulling in a small fortune. Do yourself a favour, get your backside down Deansgate. Them clubs are turning out about now.”

  “Leave me alone. I need to sleep.”

  “You’re missing out on a fortune. Don’t care what they spend, them rich types.”

  “Leave me be. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “I know you. You’re the one dodging them Romanians. Scared witless aren’cha?” He laughed.

  “Not me.”

  “Sorry, love, but if you go about with hair like that, folk will remember you. A bloke were asking about you just tonight. Reckons there’s a drink in it for information.”

  “Look, it’s not me, okay? Leave me to get some rest. Maybe then we can go down Deansgate and see what pickings there are.”

  “Fancy a smoke?” He held out a roll-up. “You must be cold. Why not come back to the gardens with me? One of the blokes has lit a fire. We’ll have a drink and get warmed through.”

  Ruby pulled hard on the cigarette. The smoke filled her lungs, bringing on another coughing fit. It made her feel strange and woozy. She threw it on the ground. “This is cut with spice! Do one!” She turned to go. “I’m off, and don’t follow me.”

  She’d had enough. She was too ill to live like this, and Nicu was getting closer. Sooner or later someone would dob her in and she’d be dead. Agnes should have been her salvation, but she was gone, and there was no one else. Or was there? The hostel! Mavis might help her. She appeared hard on the surface, but the woman wouldn’t do what she did if she wasn’t a good ’un at heart.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Day Six

  Rachel woke early the next morning with a thumping headache. Miraculously, she had slept. She put on her dressing gown and went downstairs.

  Alan was in the kitchen. He smiled. “I’m fixing breakfast for this pair. Want some?”

  “Coffee will do.”

  “Meggy told me about your ordeal. How d’you feel?”

  “I’ll be fine,” she said. “I don’t like fuss, as you know. I’m best left to process this on my own.”

  “Look, Rachel, we want to help. You could have been killed, for heaven’s sake. That sort of experience leaves its mark. You should take some time off.”

  Rachel shook her head. “I’m a tough cookie, don’t forget. Work’ll sort me, not sitting around doing nowt.”

  The house phone rang. Mia answered it. Handing the receiver to her mother, she pulled a face. “It’s Superintendent Harding.”

  “Sir?”

  “I want you to take some time off, Rachel. You had a narrow escape yesterday. You’ll need a while to get your head together.”

  Alan was bad enough, but the last thing Rachel wanted was Harding getting all fussy. “I need to work, sir. My team are in the middle of a murder case. Now is not a good time to go off sick. I mean, I wasn’t actually shot. There’s nothing wrong with me.”

  “How about counselling then? Talking the experience over might help.”

  “I’ll think about it. For now, sir, I’d appreciate being allowed to get on with the job.”

  “Okay. Well, come and see me when you get to t
he station. There are a couple of things we need to discuss.”

  That sounded ominous. What, wondered Rachel, did he have in mind?

  “You’re not going in?” Alan said, shaking his head. “I wish you wouldn’t. Meggy’s at home today, she can look after you.”

  “Meggy has studying to do. And what would I do hanging around the house all day? I’d just fret about the case and get on her nerves.”

  Rachel grabbed her coffee. They meant well, but just listening to them was stressful. It made her feel as if her head was about to explode. She needed to get to work. The case would keep her busy and, with luck, help her push yesterday’s incident to the back of her mind.

  “You’ve no car. Want me to give you a lift?” Alan offered.

  “I’ll take the train. It’s not a problem. It only takes twenty minutes, and Elwyn can pick me up at Piccadilly.”

  “There’s no helping some people.” Alan walked off to check on the girls. “I’ll do tea for them then,” he called back.

  * * *

  Elwyn opened the car door and squinted up at her. “Here’s something to cheer you up. We’ve had a break. Late last night, Ruby turned up at the hostel asking for help. The place was full, and at first Mavis Smithson was all for sending her packing but then she realised the girl was seriously ill. She sent for an ambulance and Ruby was taken to the MRI. She’s got pneumonia. She’s in a bad way.”

  Rachel smiled. “Pink hair Ruby? Have we put a guard on her room?”

  “Yes. Oh, and Kenton’s been sniffing around. The minute she’s able, he wants to speak to her.”

  “Any chance we can get to her first? I don’t want that man scaring her off, Elwyn. Ruby has a foot in both camps. She knew Agnes and she worked in that club, Leo’s. She knows things, I’d stake my job on it.”

  “And Harding’s on the prowl,” Elwyn said. “He told us that you’re coming in, and to go easy.”

  “Yes, I know, he rang me at home. He also wants me to take time off, have counselling and heaven knows what else.” She rolled her eyes.

  “But you’re not keen?”

  “Absolutely not. I’ll get over what happened in my own way.” She changed the subject quickly. “Will the hospital let us know when Ruby is up to talking?”

  “Yes, the PC watching her is one of ours,” Elwyn said.

  Rachel nodded. “We should speak to those girls we brought in. Did you find them all a bed for the night?”

  “Yes. They should be at the station about now. I’ve arranged an interpreter. At least one of them doesn’t have good English.”

  As soon as they arrived at the station, Rachel went straight to her office. She was about to get stuck into her voicemail messages and emails when a PC knocked on her door.

  “There’s a couple downstairs asking to see a detective, ma’am. They reckon they’re the victims of a scam.”

  “Did they say what sort of scam?”

  “No. They just said it was a bit delicate.”

  Rachel didn’t have time for this. It’d be a couple of suspicious phone calls or a dodgy email. “DC Farrell is in the main office. Ask him to speak to them.”

  Now it was Harding’s turn to interrupt her. “Can I have a word?” Without waiting for a reply, he came into her office and sat down.

  “Certainly, sir.”

  “DCI Kenton is insisting you stay out of his investigation,” he began. “You expressed an interest in being party to the impending interview with the Blakes. He has refused.”

  “Can he do that?” she asked.

  “He is investigating a high-profile case, and he also has the ear of the ACC.”

  How dare they discuss this behind her back! “Has he brought Ronan Blake in yet?”

  “No,” Harding said.

  “The man has gone to ground. Ronan Blake is at the centre of this. I believe he’s the man Kenton is after.”

  “You could be right,” Harding said. “I’ve had a look at the case notes for the murders you’re currently working on. Put that with what Kenton is investigating and Blake certainly looks the part.”

  “Do you want me to butt out, sir? If I do, I’ll miss out on vital information that could move our cases forward. One of the murdered girls worked at that club, I’m sure of it.”

  “How sure?”

  “She was wearing one of their work uniforms and we found her body within inches of Agnes Moore’s — the one who tried to help the girls.”

  “I doubt that’s compelling enough evidence. You need the dead girl’s identity and positive proof she worked in that club. Get that and I’ll lobby the ACC myself, and make sure you get all the interviews you require.”

  Harding was on her side after all. That was all Rachel needed to hear. “Thank you, sir. I was beginning to think you were firmly on Kenton’s side.”

  “No, Rachel. It might not look like it, but I’ve always put my people first.” He fell silent. “I’m ill, Rachel. I have neither the energy nor the resolve I used to have.”

  This was unexpected news. Harding’s behaviour had certainly changed, but Rachel had put it down to stress.

  “I have prostate cancer. It’s quite advanced, they tell me.”

  The words hung between them. Rachel had no idea how to respond. Finally she said, “But you are having treatment?”

  “Yes, I start the nasty stuff next week. It’ll take me a few weeks to recuperate, and then I plan to retire.”

  “I’m sorry, sir. I had no idea.”

  “Kindly keep this to yourself for now. Sympathy is all very well, but I still have the department to run and I prefer to continue as normal.”

  Rachel went back to the incident room to ring Jude. She should have guessed there was something up with Harding, he’d not been himself for a while. He didn’t want people to know, so that’s how it would be.

  “Hi, Jude. Any luck with the familial match on Anita Darwin and our unknown?”

  “Later today, I promise,” Jude said. “Are you okay? I heard about what happened yesterday.”

  “I’m fine, Jude. Well, I’m getting on with the job, which works for me.”

  “Don’t push your luck. PTSD is a very real thing, and I wouldn’t like to see you laid low for want of a few days with your feet up.”

  Rachel wasn’t getting into that now. When were people going to stop telling her to take time off? “We sent a laptop over to digital forensics yesterday. It came from Leo’s club in town. Do you know if they’ve processed it yet?”

  “I’ll chase them and have the data emailed over. Take care, Rachel. Work is great at stopping the cogs turning, but you had a shock yesterday. A bit of time off wouldn’t hurt.”

  “You know me, Jude, a glutton for punishment. You still have the dead man’s ring. Process it anyway, would you? Any trace of Agnes Moore’s DNA let me know.”

  “I was in the middle of processing Akerman’s clothing and samples when Kenton’s mob stepped in,” Jude said. “But after our little chat, I carried on. Akerman bit his assailant. I found traces of blood in his mouth. The DNA is a match for Danulescu’s, which is on file.”

  “That proves what we thought. Thanks, Jude.”

  “Not that it helps much now — the man is dead. Please consider your own well-being, Rachel. You can only push yourself so far.”

  Rachel sighed inwardly. This would be the norm for the next few days. She’d better get used to it. As her colleagues heard what had happened, they’d all be urging her to take time off. Most people would take their advice, but Rachel wasn’t most people. She needed to work. Resting would have to wait.

  “Ruby’s awake,” Elwyn called out to her. “The doctor reckons she’ll be up to talking later today. Fancy a trip to the MRI?”

  Rachel nodded. “We’ll go after I’ve spoken to the girls. I don’t want Kenton beating us to it. The Blakes, Amy. Anything?”

  “I’m still digging, ma’am.”

  “Get a warrant and we’ll look into his finances while we’re at it. That mi
ght give us something.”

  “Sure you’re up for this?” Elwyn said. “Interviewing those girls could get messy.”

  “Elwyn, I’m coping fine. Don’t keep on about it.”

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Amy had got everything set up in one of the soft interview rooms. The interpreter was waiting.

  “Elwyn, did yesterday’s search of the club throw anything up?” Rachel asked.

  He shook his head. “No, the place was clean. No drugs, and no stash of money, other than the previous night’s takings. I didn’t think much of the girl’s accommodation, though. I wouldn’t keep a dog in those rooms.”

  “Did you find any employment records?”

  “Nothing. As you know, we brought in a laptop from the office there. Digital forensics are still working on it.”

  “Hope the girls give us something useful,” she said. “They must have seen things, suspicious goings-on.”

  Elwyn looked dubious. “But will they talk to you?”

  Rachel left the incident room and went downstairs to the interview room. She wanted a quick word with Amy before they got started.

  “We go easy,” she said. “No losing it. Despite the drug taking and whatever else they might have done, these girls aren’t criminals. They’re scared. Bad as it was, we’ve just dragged them away from the only place they knew. We need to gain their trust, convince them that they won’t be going back to that life. They’re free.”