DEAD & BURIED a gripping crime thriller full of twists Read online

  “I don’t want to approach Costello mob-handed. You two wander around. See what you can find out.” Calladine left them and walked towards Costello. “On your own?”

  “Not anymore I’m not,” he barked. “Follow me up here, did you?”

  “No. I thought you’d be well gone by now.” Calladine sat down beside him. “Trent?”

  Costello looked at him. “Thought I’d have a word. Seems the bastard is killing people in my name.”

  “Candid of you to tell me that, Mr Costello.”

  “Words, Inspector, just words. We’re on our own. You can’t prove a thing.”

  “Who is he, this Trent? And why is he doing this?”

  “I haven’t a clue. But when I get my hands on the bastard he’ll rue the day, take my word for it.”

  “He’s been causing a lot of trouble lately. He’s killed people. The word is out that those deaths are down to you. He’s told people you want the Hobfield and you’ll get rid of anyone who stands in your way.”

  “I wouldn’t waste my time. The place is a cesspit.”

  “That is what I told my colleagues. So then I got to thinking. What is it Trent really wants?”

  Costello laughed. “Perhaps he intends to blackmail me.”

  “I think he intends to kill you.”

  * * *

  “My name is Colin Barker, I’m a solicitor.”

  Tanya Mallon looked at the man. “I didn’t ask for a solicitor.”

  He smiled. “It is usual in these circumstances. Do you want to ask me anything?”

  “When can I get out of here?”

  “I’m doing my best to get you bail.”

  “I can’t spend the night here. I’ll go insane. I’ve got none of my things and I need to eat.”

  “Actually you don’t look very well. Let me get you a drink.”

  “Not more of that dreadful tea, please.”

  Barker held up what looked like a soft drink bottle to the uniformed officer stood by the door. “May I offer her some of this?” The officer nodded.

  “Drink this. It has a drop of brandy in it,” he whispered. “Put the colour back in your cheeks.”

  Tanya Mallon took a swig. It didn’t occur to her that offering brandy was something a solicitor just wouldn’t do. She was too tired. Anyway, the alcohol would lift her spirits.

  “Do you have anyone who will stand bail for you?”

  She shook her head. “Can’t you pull some strings?” She took another swig of the drink. The alcohol hit the spot. He started rambling on, saying things she didn’t understand. She wanted him to stop. She began to sweat. She hadn’t eaten, and the brandy must have gone to her head. Tanya felt very weird. Suddenly there was a flurry of activity in the cell. She’d fallen to the floor in a faint.

  Someone was shaking her arm. “Mrs Mallon? Wake up! You’re not well.”

  She tried to answer but her voice wouldn’t work. A male voice shouted, “Can you hear me? I’m a doctor. We are going to get you to the hospital.”

  Two policeman ran into the cell. Again she tried to speak but she couldn’t. The cell was spinning. She screamed out as everything went black.

  * * *

  “Don’t you have a home to go to?” Imogen asked Joyce.

  “I’ll sort through the last of this paperwork first. I don’t mind, there’s no one waiting for me.”

  Joyce didn’t talk much about her private life but Imogen knew that she was divorced and lived alone. She felt sorry for her. Joyce threw her all into the job. There didn’t seem to be much else in her life.

  “Call for you,” Joyce said, patching it through to Imogen’s desk.

  “It’s Ricky Blackwell,” Imogen mouthed back.

  “I want to speak to that inspector,” he told her.

  “He won’t be back for a while. Ricky? Are you with your aunt?”

  “We’re staying in a cottage in South Wales. It belongs to a friend. We want to come home,” the lad said. “It was a mistake to run away. We can’t afford it. But my auntie is scared.”

  “Did someone threaten her? Costello?”

  “No, not him. That other bloke. The one who kept ringing my mum. We got a call after one of your detectives came round. He wanted to talk to Enid. He said he’d make sure auntie never spoke to anyone again. She was so terrified we took off.”

  “When are you coming back?”

  “Tomorrow, but auntie won’t come unless we’re met at the station. The coach gets in at midday.”

  “I’ll arrange it, don’t worry. You and your aunt will be fine. Do you know who this man is?”

  “No. Just that he offered my mum a lot of money if she got something for him.”

  “Do you know what?”

  “No. She said I was better off not knowing.”

  “We’ll look after you both, Ricky. You must come back and speak to us. Inspector Calladine won’t let you down. Will you give me the address where you’re staying?”

  “I can’t. Auntie said not to.” With that he rang off.

  “Joyce, get that call traced will you?”

  Imogen went to the board. Tanya said Emily took the gun off her. Was it possible that she’d kept it all these years? Was that what Trent wanted?

  “They say it’ll take a while.”

  “I’ll wait, Joyce. You get off home. It’s been a long day.”

  The duty sergeant looked in. “The inspector here?” Imogen shook her head. “Tanya Mallon has been taken to hospital. She suddenly keeled over while she was talking to that solicitor of hers. She’s been fine all afternoon. Complained of being fed up, but it wasn’t anything to worry about.”

  “I’ll get down there.”

  “What about the call you’re having traced?” Joyce asked as she was putting on her coat.

  “They’ll leave a message. It’s more important to see what’s going on with Tanya. I’ll ring Calladine with an update once I’m there.”

  Had they pushed Tanya too far? She might have come across as tough but Imogen had caught a glimpse of her softer side. She’d wept when she talked about her mother. Whatever happened all those years ago had left an emotional scar.

  It only took five minutes to drive the short distance to Leesdon General. Imogen parked up and went into A&E. When she arrived at Tanya’s bedside two doctors were busy trying to resuscitate her.

  “Do you know this woman?” one asked.

  “Not personally. I’m police,” she said, showing her badge. “Her name is Tanya Mallon. She’s been in custody in one of our cells all afternoon.”

  “Did she take anything?”

  “She will have had tea to drink, water perhaps.” She checked her watch. “The food won’t have been dished up yet.”

  “She’s been poisoned. She either had something with her or she was given it.”

  “That’s not possible. She’ll have been thoroughly searched. I don’t get it.”

  But Imogen could see for herself how serious Tanya’s condition was. The monitors she was connected to were barely registering.

  “Who brought her in?”

  “A doctor was called to the cell. He called for an ambulance.”

  “What sort of poison has she taken?”

  “We hoped one of you might be able to tell us.”

  Imogen looked at the uniformed officer standing in the doorway. He shook his head. “We found nothing.”

  “Did she have any visitors?”

  “Her solicitor, that’s all.”

  “Did she ask for one?”

  “There’s nothing logged.”

  Imogen felt sick. She knew what this was. Tanya Mallon had been got at. This was down to Trent or Costello. But how? She went outside and rang the nick. The duty sergeant answered. “Has any of Inspector Calladine’s team returned yet?”

  “No,” he replied sharply. “That woman in custody. The one taken to hospital. Is she alright?”

  “She isn’t as it happens. Why do you ask?”

  “Ten minute
s after the ambulance left here another one turned up. Said there had been no mistake. They were here to take her in. Went away in a right strop. They had no idea what had gone wrong.”

  But Imogen had. Whoever had picked up Tanya Mallon and brought her to hospital was not from the ambulance service.

  * * *

  “Kill me! He wouldn’t dare!” Costello bellowed. “Who is this creep?”

  “We’ve no idea,” Calladine replied. “We think he came here to lure you into the open. You need to be careful.”

  Costello laughed. “Worried about my safety, Inspector? He wouldn’t dare.” He took a mobile from his pocket and spoke into it. Seconds later two of his henchmen walked into the bar.

  Costello grinned at them. “Apparently I’m in danger. Take another look around. See if you can find this man Trent. Check the rooms if you have to. The inspector will look after me until you get back.” He patted Calladine’s knee.

  “This isn’t a wind up,” said Calladine. “Trent hasn’t gone to all this trouble for nothing. He set those boys up. Recruited them for a rival firm then had them killed — by your people.”

  “Allegedly by my people. The truth is very different. I run a number of respectable companies. I do not have people killed.”

  “Well, not anymore,” Calladine replied.

  “Barman!” Costello shouted. “More drinks here. Want something, Inspector?”

  “No thanks, I’m working.”

  Rocco and Eliza walked into the bar.

  “This pair with you?” said Costello. “I know her. Anything goes down on the Yorkshire coast I’m the first person she drags in.”

  “I get the feeling she doesn’t like you much.”

  “It’s mutual. She’s a mad bitch. I’ve told her, much more of her nonsense and I’ll sue.”

  “The place is quiet, sir. Most of the rooms are empty.” Eliza hung back, her arms folded. She didn’t look at Costello.

  The barman called across. “Whisky, sir?”

  “Bring the bottle over, Robin.”

  “I’d feel happier if you were less visible.”

  “Sorry to disappoint, Inspector. I’m not in the habit of hiding in a corner. This scumbag wants me, he’ll have to come out into the open.”

  Rocco was standing in front of the table looking through the window. He was nervous. This situation could become very dangerous at any moment. Costello was a volatile man. Rocco moved aside to allow the barman access. The barman was carrying a heavy tray. It held a bottle of single malt and a tea towel, under which Rocco presumed were glasses. But he let it slip. The tray landed on the table with crash and the bottle hit the floor. During the split second when everyone’s attention was diverted, the barman snatched a revolver from under the tea towel.

  “Stay put!” he ordered. “Don’t even flinch.” He pointed the weapon at Calladine, who was about to get to his feet.

  “You are Trent?” Rocco asked.

  “No. Tell them who I am, Costello.” He held up his hand. Half of his little finger was missing.

  “Robert Silver.”

  “But you’ve been calling yourself Trent.”

  “Yes, Inspector. Although we’ve never met, Silver is a name Costello knows too well.” He jabbed the gun in Costello’s chest. “Get up!”

  “You can’t hope to get out of here. His people are all over the building.”

  Silver looked at Calladine. “You don’t get it, do you? This is about getting him. Getting even, not getting away.” He shrugged. “If I do get out of this, it’s just a bonus.”

  “What did Costello do to you?”

  “He killed my son, Ryan. Shot his arms and legs to pieces then threw him in a lake and left him to drown.”

  “You should have come to us.”

  Silver snorted. “You lot are useless. Look at you now. You’re drinking with the bastard. Ryan took part in that Cheshire job. Then this piece of shit thinks Ryan spilled his guts to the police so he punishes him. Made an example. That’s what you called it, wasn’t it Costello?”

  Wearily, Costello got to his feet. “We’ll take this outside.”

  Silver pushed him, the gun poking into his back. As he manoeuvred between the tables, Eliza King stuck out her foot. Calladine lunged forward, sending Silver face forward onto the floor. The gun jolted from his hand and slid across the carpet. But not before he’d fired it. Costello fell, blood pouring from his back.

  Chapter 22

  “What are you lot doing here?” DC Imogen Goode asked as the ambulance and police car pulled into the hospital car park.

  “Costello’s been shot,” Rocco told her. “And we’ve arrested Silver — or Trent as we thought he was called.”

  “Well done!”

  “It was down to DCI King really. She’s a cool one alright. Silver was about to make off with Costello and she sticks out her foot, trips him up. Foolhardy, the boss said, but it worked. Silver has been working as a barman at the Pennine Inn for weeks. Called himself Robin. The same Robin who backed up Tanya’s story. But for the purposes of getting Costello he set himself up as Trent. The only person who’d have known his true identity would have been Tanya Mallon.”

  “Where is the boss?”

  “That car over there.”

  What she was about to tell him wouldn’t make Calladine happy. “Sir, Tanya Mallon is dead.”

  His eyes shot up to meet hers. “How? When did this happen? She was locked up, for God’s sake!”

  “She was taken ill in the cells. An ambulance picked her up from the nick. But it can’t have been genuine. By the time the real ambulance turned up she was gone. The doctors here think that something lethal was administered on the journey here. Doctor Bower is coming here straight away to do the post-mortem.”

  “She certainly wasn’t blameless but she didn’t deserve to die.” He was furious. No Tanya, no more case against Costello. The chances had been slim before, but now they were non-existent.

  “Oh, and Ricky Blackwell phoned. They are coming home tomorrow but want picking up at the coach station. They are terrified of some man who has been threatening them.”

  “Silver.”

  “Ricky didn’t say. What have you done with Silver?”

  “He’s locked up at the station. He’s virtually admitted he’s behind the lot. Killing the lads and making out it was down to Costello. And the scam about having information. We’ll talk to him later.” He checked his watch. “It’s getting late. We might leave it until tomorrow.”

  “And Costello? Is he badly hurt?”

  “I’m just going in to find out.”

  * * *

  Costello grinned at him. “They tell me I’ll live, Inspector. Be sure to thank that bad-tempered bitch for me. I bet she can’t believe what she did! Hates me, she does. She blames me for that stupid kid of hers being like she is.”

  Calladine didn’t comment. Eliza had spoken only briefly about her daughters. “What’s the damage?”

  “Thankfully I’m a tad overweight.” Costello pointed to the dressing at the side of his waist. “The bullet went through here. Straight through. Hit nothing but blubber.”

  “You were lucky.”

  “What will you do with Silver?”

  “Charge him. After we’ve heard what he’s got to say.”

  “His son was a muppet. He deserved everything he got.”

  “So you did know Ryan Silver?”

  “Yes, but not like his father said. I wasn’t responsible for any robbery. The lad worked on my security team. He had an accident. I can’t see to everything. Things go wrong.”

  “I will have to talk to you again, Mr Costello.”

  Costello shouted to the hulk standing guard by the door. “Gregor! Give the inspector my card.”

  Calladine walked out into the evening sunshine. He doubted they would get anything to incriminate Costello. The Cheshire robbery had been thoroughly investigated at the time. “You might as well call it a day,” he told the others, who were wait
ing in the car park. “Where’s Eliza gone?”

  “Back to the nick,” Rocco replied. “DCI Birch has been on. Ken Blackwell was killed this afternoon in Strangeways. He was knifed in the showers.”

  Calladine groaned. He knew what this was. Costello was clearing up. Costello might or might not know that Tanya was Mary Slater’s daughter but she was still a threat. Ken Blackwell had driven the van used to move Carol’s body. Now there was no one left to tell the tale but Costello himself.

  “What really gets me is that all this was done while he was quietly supping whisky in that bar.”

  His phone rang. It was Shez Mortimer.

  “I’m waiting for you in the Wheatsheaf. I’ve been here ages. Where are you?”

  “Case got complicated.”

  “You’re the complicated one, Tom Calladine. I can’t get near. Are you coming for a beer or what?”

  He could do with speaking to her about Robert Silver. “I’ll be with you very soon. Get me a pint in.”

  Imogen was looking at him. “Monika?”

  “No, it’s someone else,” he admitted. “A woman I met the other day. She is loosely connected with the case. She might have some more information. So if anyone asks — it’s work.”

  * * *

  Ruth was getting at him behind his back again. From the way Imogen and Rocco had looked at each other, Calladine knew she had been talking to them.

  The Wheatsheaf was busy. Three TV screens were blasting out a football match, and the patrons were noisy. Every time boot touched ball there was a storm of swearing or cheering. The quiet corner at the far end had been taken by three women and a horde of kids. A pushchair blocked the way to the table by the window where Shez was sitting, and spilt juice was all over the wooden floor making it slippery.

  “This place gets worse,” he grumbled to Shez, kissing her cheek.

  She smiled. “I don’t know. It’s quite entertaining. Don’t you like football?”

  “I can take it or leave it,” he said.

  “I was beginning to think that’s how you felt about me.”

  “The case got a bit heavy earlier. I couldn’t get away.”

  “What are you doing this weekend?”

  “A bit of R and R if I’m lucky.” Then he remembered. “I’ve got a christening on Sunday. My sergeant, Ruth, is having her baby son done. I’m the godfather.” He grinned.