Dead Nasty Page 5

  Donnelly cowered, covering his face with an arm. “Don’t hit me!” he yelled.

  “Why not? I’m sorely tempted to kick your stupid head in, you evil piece of shit!”

  After nearly twenty years, Calladine was again face to face with the murderer. He saw Annabelle Roper stuffed into that bin, along with bits of her body, like pieces of a human jigsaw puzzle. This man was responsible for doing that to a young girl. He should not be walking the streets.

  “Leave me! Leave me alone! You can’t do this.”

  Calladine looked at the terrified man. He was aching to lamp him one across the jaw, knock him to the ground and stamp the life out of the murdering bastard.

  Then Ruth ran up to him. “Tom! You’ve got him.”

  Ruth was glaring at him, and her look told him not to go too far. Calladine’s grip relaxed. He caught his breath. “We need to have a serious chat, Craig Donnelly. Down at the station.”

  “You can’t do this! I’m clean, just come back from seeing my probation officer. I’ve got a job, a place to live, so shove off, copper!”

  Calladine showed him his badge. “It won’t take long.”

  “You’re picking on me. I haven’t done anything other than work for that slave driver,” he nodded at the vicarage. “I know who you are. You were one of the coppers that put me away. You got it all wrong then and you’re doing it again now.”

  Calladine ignored this. “We want to know exactly where you’ve been and who you’ve spoken to over this last week. So you can get your thinking cap on while we tootle off to the nick.”

  “You can’t make me come with you.”

  “Yes, we can, Craig. If necessary, I’ll arrest you.”

  Chapter 5

  Elsa Ramsden’s mother stared at them. “What d’you mean — a photo of Elsa? What do you want it for?”

  Rocco tried to smile. “Something recent?”

  She gave a puzzled shrug and snatched a framed picture from the wall behind her. “This is her. Happy now?”

  There was no doubt. The dead girl was Elsa Ramsden. Rocco passed the photo to Imogen with a little nod.

  “Can we come in, Mrs Ramsden?” Imogen asked.

  “Why? What do you lot want now?”

  There was no easy way to say this. “We’d like to talk about Elsa. I’m afraid she’s been murdered.”

  The woman’s eyes flitted wildly from one detective to the other and she gave a nervous little laugh. “This is someone’s idea of a bad joke. She’s at school. I told his mate that not long ago.” She nodded at Rocco.

  Imogen spoke kindly. “Elsa isn’t at school, Mrs Ramsden. She was found earlier today. I’m afraid she’s been murdered.”

  Elsa’s mother shook her head. “You’re wrong. No one would hurt our Elsa. Wouldn’t dare.”

  “She’s been missing since Friday. Why didn’t you report it?” Rocco asked.

  Mrs Ramsden was dismissive. “She’s always taking off, but she comes back. And she will this time, you’ll see.”

  “Can we come inside, Mrs Ramsden?” Imogen asked again.

  This time Elsa’s mother moved aside and gestured down the narrow hallway. “Last night her eldest brother, our Danny, got a bit bothered. He went looking for her. He ended up going down the nick and telling them how long she’d been gone. Truth is, I wasn’t worried. She’s always staying with that friend of hers.”

  “Megan Heywood?” Rocco asked.

  “Yes, her. Them two are always together.” Suddenly their words seemed to hit home. Tears began to trickle down her face. “You’ll have got this all wrong. I can’t lose my Elsa. Megan will tell you what happened. Go and see her. My Elsa will be with her, you’ll see.”

  Imogen introduced their colleague. “This is a family liaison officer. She will keep you up to date with everything that happens.”

  But Mrs Ramsden was adamant. “I don’t want no police in the house.”

  “In that case can we get someone else for you? A relative, perhaps?”

  “Look here, missy. You lot have got this all wrong. Our Elsa will come skulking through that door anytime now. She’ll tell me what she wants for her tea, then she’ll go straight up to her room.”

  Imogen looked at Rocco. “No she won’t, Mrs Ramsden. Where can we find your son, Danny?”

  “He’ll be in the bookies on the High Street. But there’s no need to disturb him. Go and see her friends first. Megan or one of the others will know where she’s hiding.”

  “We will be speaking to Megan later. Meanwhile, we need to take Elsa’s computer and her mobile, if it’s here. We have to take it away so that our people can look for anything on it that might help. Once they’re done, you can have it back,” Imogen said.

  Imogen waited for Mrs Ramsden to refuse point-blank. But nothing happened. Without so much as a word, the woman flopped onto the well-worn sofa. The awful news was finally sinking in.

  She sniffed. “Her room’s top of the stairs, first on the left. Help yourselves. But you won’t find her mobile. That’s glued to her hand.”

  Imogen looked at Rocco. “We didn’t find it with her.”

  “Does she have a tablet?” asked Rocco.

  “No. It was all I could do to buy her the laptop.”

  The house was scruffy. The stair carpet was threadbare in places and the paintwork was chipped. The door next to Elsa’s looked as if someone had had a go at kicking it in at some time.

  They opened the door to Elsa’s room. It was surprisingly large and looked like a little palace. She had a double bed with a cream lace canopy and pink fairy lights draped around the headboard. The furniture was old, but it had been carefully painted in a delicate pink. The wallpaper was covered in butterflies and she had curtains and bedding to match.

  Rocco smiled. “Very girlie.”

  Imogen nodded. “This isn’t the Elsa Ramsden I was expecting from what we’ve heard of her. But it’s nice, pretty. I like it.”

  Rocco picked up the laptop from the dressing table. “We should get this over to the Duggan, pronto. If there’s anything to find, their IT people will be on it like a shot.”

  Elsa’s mother stuck her head round the door. “She could be all night on that thing. Spends hours up here she does, talking to some boy or other. Heard him once. Swanky accent. Sounds like he has money. Can’t understand what the poor bugger sees in our Elsa.”

  Imogen raised an eyebrow. “Did she ever talk about him?”

  “Not to me she didn’t. Megan’s your best bet on that one.”

  “How long has it been going on, the thing with this boy?”

  “Who knows? She comes up here, locks the door. Plays holy hell if her brothers go near.”

  “Have you never asked her about him?”

  “Wouldn’t get me anywhere if I did. I don’t have time to play games with Elsa. She wants me to know something, she’ll tell me. Otherwise I leave her to it. If you take the laptop away, make sure it comes back. I’m still paying for it.”

  Once they were outside, Rocco said to Imogen, “I don’t think she understands. And what about the identification?”

  “We can’t ask her. The girl’s mouth is a mess.” Imogen thought for a moment. “We’ll go and find the brother.”

  * * *

  “I explicitly told you to leave him alone, and to report back to me.”

  Calladine was back in Birch’s office, and she was livid. Her small, dark eyes were slits. “I have my orders too, you know. Now I’m going to have to explain to the assistant chief constable what Craig Donnelly is doing in our cells!”

  “He’s a suspect—” But Calladine didn’t get a chance to explain.

  “A suspect! What do we suspect him of, for God’s sake? I hope you’ve got something good up your sleeve.”

  “I certainly have, ma’am. But I don’t understand why the ACC would want him leaving alone.”

  “That’s not the issue. The issue is that you blatantly disobeyed an order.”

  “Sorry, ma’am,
but I had no choice.”

  “Why did you bring him in? I need something concrete to tell the ACC or it’ll be both our careers down the pan.”

  Calladine’s smile was half-hearted, and he just stopped himself shrugging. His career had gone down the pan a long while ago. His association with the villain, Ray Fallon, had seen to that. “The dead girl, ma’am. It has all the same hallmarks as the Annabelle Roper case. There are injuries present that were never released to the press or anyone else at the time. This victim, Elsa Ramsden, has them all.”

  That got her attention. “Donnelly was carefully monitored for years. His prison record is spotless. He expressed remorse for what he did. So why do it again within weeks of getting out? He received counselling and treatment, and finally became a trusted inmate. I’m at a loss to understand what happened, particularly with the system.”

  Calladine grimaced. “I wouldn’t waste time trying to work it out. I think someone a lot cleverer than he is coached him on how to play the system. The victim is known to Donnelly’s daughter. Elsa Ramsden was giving Gaby Donnelly grief at school. Perhaps Craig decided to get even as some sort of grand gesture.”

  “His family want nothing to do with him, so how would he know?”

  “I’ve no idea, but I intend to question him. I want to know how he has spent his time this last week, who he’s seen and where he’s been. Given the nature of the killing, surely even the ACC can’t complain at what I’ve done?”

  “Okay, speak to Donnelly. But do it by the book. Make sure he has legal representation, contact his probation officer and see if he wants to be present too. I don’t want any comebacks. Do you understand, Calladine?”

  “Perfectly, ma’am.”

  “I take it forensics are on the job?”

  “The merest speck of Donnelly’s DNA and we’ll have him.”

  * * *

  Once he was back in the incident room, Calladine went over to Ruth. “Why do you think the ACC would want to keep Craig Donnelly sweet?”

  She looked up from a file she was busy reading. “What d’you mean?”

  “Birch told me to leave him alone. To report, not act. She’s pretty damned annoyed that I’ve just arrested him. Apparently it goes against what the ACC wants.”

  Ruth tapped a pencil against her front teeth, then she nodded. “It won’t be Donnelly, it’ll be that vicar. Bet I’m right. They’ll have some connection and the vicar’ll be leaning on the ACC. You met the man, would you want him on your back?”

  Calladine smiled. “Check it out. If you are right, you get a gold star.”

  “Where do I start? I can’t just go prying into the ACC’s private life.”

  Calladine thought. “Who have we got at the moment anyway?”

  “Patrick Kennet.”

  “Now that is interesting.”

  “Not really. I’ve never met the man and I’m not likely to either.”

  “I have,” Calladine told her. “At the time he was DCI Kennet, working from Oldston station. He supervised the investigation into the Annabelle Roper murder.”

  “You and Reynolds worked with him, then?”

  “Not me. I met him a couple of times tops, but he drove Reynolds crazy with his demands.”

  Ruth frowned. “So what does it mean?”

  “Probably nothing. Look at the vicar instead. Speak to some of the parishioners first. See what Livings is into, whether he’s a member of any societies or clubs. You can check if the ACC belongs to the same ones.”

  “Would Birch know?”

  “I’ll ask, but I doubt it.”

  Calladine’s mobile rang. It was Doctor Natasha Barrington from the Duggan. “If I were you I’d get myself a cup of hot, sweet tea and sit down.”

  “Bad, eh?”

  “One of the worst I’ve had in some time. I don’t say this often, Tom, but this character needs catching, and quick. Before he gets a taste for it.”

  The tea wasn’t a bad idea. Calladine looked at Ruth. “Any chance of a cuppa? Doctor Barrington is about to relay something nasty.”

  Ruth went to the brew corner, grabbed the kettle and went off to fill it.

  “I’d say the sequence of events went something like this . . .” Natasha was wasting no time on small talk. Calladine could hear the edginess in her voice. Natasha Barrington had had Elsa on the table for a couple of hours by now. She’d have done the preliminary examination, so she’d be well aware of what the girl had suffered. What she’d found had obviously got to her.

  “She was kept tied up for a while and drugged regularly — morphine I’d say, but I’m still running tests. Apart from the other injuries, her lower arms are red and inflamed. I’d say she was allergic to whatever tape was used to bind them. Her hand was burned first, and it’s no superficial burn either. It went down to the bone. I will await the results before I say for sure how that was done. Despite the drugs, the poor girl would have been in agony. She’d have lost consciousness at this point.” She sighed. “But he didn’t stop there. Elsa has scratches and grit embedded in the skin of her back and buttocks. She appears to have been lying naked on rough ground. Bruises to her face and upper body suggest she was beaten. And while she was still pinned down, Elsa was raped.”

  “Was she conscious?”

  “Given the morphine in her system, hopefully not. I haven’t run all the tests yet so that is still conjecture at present.”

  Calladine’s head was reeling. Ruth put the tea on the desk in front of him, and he grabbed it and took a swig. “Poor kid. The bastard really went to town! What I don’t understand is why.”

  But there was more. Natasha went on. “He jammed her mouth open with something large and hard. She has two broken teeth, top front. He pinched her nose tight shut with something. I’ve found tiny flecks of black paint. For the time being I’m going with a bulldog clip. There is evidence of extensive bruising to both sides of her nose. And then he cut out her tongue. Elsa was lying on her back. He used something sharp, a knife or scissors. When that was done her mouth was taped up. She would not have lasted long. She would have choked to death on her own blood.”

  There was a moment or two of silence. Eventually Calladine asked, “Did you get any DNA?”

  “No.”

  “He did all that to the poor girl and left no trace? How is that possible?”

  Natasha spoke as if it was obvious. “He was forensically aware. A lot of people are nowadays. They watch too much telly and have learned what not to do. The suits, the gloves and masks, they’re all readily available and cheap to buy. He even used a condom.”

  “Anything about the body give any clues as to where all this took place?”

  “Possibly, but you’ll have to wait for that. I’ve passed everything over to Professor Batho, including the note. It is smeared with blood. I’m having some of her hair tested. It is long and matted with dried blood but it may have picked up something. I’m thinking spores, or mould, from where she was held, even the odd specimen of wildlife.”

  “Wildlife?”

  “Fleas, flies, maggots, rat droppings. She was found in a dustbin, Tom. We’ve also handed the other contents over for analysis. I’ll keep you informed.” Her sigh was loud. “I’m beginning to wonder why I do this job.”

  “You and me both. However, I do have a suspect in custody. As I told you, I have seen this before. The bastard is in the cells. I’ll let him stew and then go and have a word.”

  “Give him a damn good thumping for me, will you?” Then Natasha went silent.

  “You alright, Tash?”

  “No, I’m bloody not! She was just a girl. A teenager, with her whole life ahead of her. It’s not often the job gets to me, but this one has tipped the balance.”

  “Perhaps it’s you that needs that tea.”

  “It’ll take more than tea. You doing anything tonight?”

  Chapter 6

  Birch’s voice reverberated around the room. “Calladine! A word in my office.”

  Calladin
e got up and followed the DCI. “If I’m not out in ten, come and rescue me,” he whispered to Ruth.

  “You need to do something about Donnelly fast. I’ve had the ACC on. In turn he has had the Reverend Michael Livings on his back. You didn’t just arrest him, did you? You frightened the life out of Donnelly. He is threatening to make an official complaint. Have the Duggan come up with anything yet?”

  Calladine shook his head.

  “You have no evidence to back up dragging him in here. No witnesses, no DNA, a big fat nothing, bar your suspicions.”

  “It’ll take time, ma’am. The Duggan are working on the case as we speak.”

  “We don’t have time. We can’t hold him. Livings and the probation officer are on their way here now to collect him.”

  “How did they find out so fast?”

  “Donnelly rang Livings. He arranged a solicitor.” Birch shrugged. “A solicitor who knows his stuff. You were violent.”

  Calladine protested. “I never touched him! I wanted to, but Ruth stepped in just in time.”

  “You’re damn lucky she did, or you would be out on your ear. What has got into you, DI Calladine?”

  “This is a horrific killing, ma’am. I’ve just had the preliminary report verbally from Doctor Barrington. Imprisonment, torture, the burning of her hand, rape and finally a brutal death. Donnelly has history. The details of Elsa Ramsden’s and Annabelle Roper’s murders are very similar.” He paused. Birch was listening, but her attention had wandered. She was staring at the mobile phone on her desk as it blinked away silently. “What am I supposed to do?”

  She shook her head. “Your job, Inspector. Wait for the evidence. Until you have something positive against Donnelly, go and harass some other suspect.”

  “There are none.”

  “Perhaps that’s where you’re going wrong.” She sighed, finally picking up the phone. “I’m going out shortly. The chances are that I won’t be here when Livings arrives. Treat him with kid gloves. Do you understand?”

  Calladine nodded.

  “Find out where Donnelly has been. Chase up everything he gives you. I have made it clear that he will be released into the vicar’s care, and he has promised that Donnelly will not do a runner.”