DARK HOUSES a gripping detective thriller full of suspense (15 page)

“I keep an eye on everything. There are twelve people here, all male and all recovering from mental illness. They come here because there is nowhere else for them to go. If they want anything, I sort it.”

“What sort of anything?” Speedy asked.

“Shopping if they can’t go out. Prescriptions fetching from the chemist. Help with applying for jobs . . . anything and everything.” He smiled. “But they are encouraged to be independent. This isn’t secure accommodation or anything like it. They go where they want and have people round.”

“Could we have a look at Neville’s room?” They didn’t have a warrant but Greco was hoping the bloke would cooperate.

“Is he in trouble?”

“He could be,” Greco said.

“Okay. A quick look won’t hurt.”

The room was on the first floor. It was simply furnished with a bed, a wardrobe, a chest of drawers and an armchair. It had a large window and an en-suite bathroom.

“No TV?” Speedy said.

“No. This one likes his music.” He nodded to a radio on the chest. “Plays the thing all the time he does, loud too.”

Greco opened the wardrobe door. A black anorak hung there — and nothing else. “He doesn’t have much clothing, does he? And there are no photos or knick-knacks.”

“They don’t stay here long as a rule. We aim to get them on their feet and into work. After that they usually make their own way.”

“Did Neville have any visitors?” Speedy asked.

“Not that I ever saw, and I have a flat on the ground floor. There’s not a lot happens here that I don’t see.”

While they were talking Greco had opened the drawers in the chest. A small paper bag sat on its own inside the top one. He took a pair of nitrile gloves from his jacket pocket and put them on.

“Found something, sir?”

Greco carefully opened the bag. Inside was a lock of long blonde hair tied with a pink ribbon. “What’s the betting this belonged to Jenna Proctor?”

“It’s just hair, sir. There’s no scalp attached.”

Greco motioned for Speedy to be quiet. “Thanks. I think we’ve seen everything. We will have to send a forensic team to look at the room,” he said.

“Has he done something?”

“We think he has, yes,” Greco said. “I doubt Neville will be coming back. Would you lock this room after we leave and let no one in until the team arrive?”

“What about his car?” the caretaker asked.

“Car?” Speedy repeated.

“Yes. Dakin’s car. Not that I ever saw him drive it. He used to keep it in the garage round the back. But last night someone took it out and set it alight in the field at the back.”

“Show us,” Greco said.

The caretaker led them outside the building and pointed to a grassed area behind the garden. “You can’t miss it. It’s slap bang in the middle. Lit up the sky like a firework display.”

“Was it a dark blue Focus?” Speedy asked.

“Yes.”

“You told us you see everything that goes on – did you see who took it?”

“No. It was late. I must have been asleep.”

“Keep the garage locked too,” Greco instructed the man. “I think we need our forensic team to look at this urgently.”

Chapter 18

“Are you going to your flat, sir? Only you’re welcome to come to mine. You could have a bite to eat, see Matilda.”

Greco shook his head. “I’ll pop by and speak to Matilda but I won’t stay. I couldn’t eat anything anyway.” He smiled at her. “It was good of you to ask.”

“While you were out, we had a Doctor Fielding on the phone from Springbank,” Scarlett told him. “He wasn’t very happy about Dakin being kept in the cells.”

That young man could stay there and rot for all he cared. Right now, all that concerned him was finding who had taken Suzy before it was too late.

“Stall him if he rings again.” Greco wanted some time to go through everything they’d got. The office would be quiet once the team had packed up and gone home.

“Stephen? Can I have a word?”

It was DCI Green. Greco knew what he’d want to discuss — whether he remained on this case. He had to stay with it. He needed to be involved. He followed Green down the corridor and into his office.

“Suzy hasn’t turned up yet?”

“No, sir.”

“Then you should stand down. If you think there’s any chance that her disappearance is mixed up with the killings, then you don’t have a choice.”

“I don’t think it is, sir.” The lie was so easy it surprised him. “I showed Dakin a photo. He didn’t recognise her, but he did recognise Jenna Proctor. So Suzy isn’t mixed up in this.”

Green accepted this immediately. After all, Greco had never lied to him before.

“So where is she?”

“Suzy is seeing someone else,” said Greco. “I saw her with him. We spoke about it the night before she left. I think she’s simply gone off with him for a few days.”

“I’m sorry, Stephen. Just when you thought you’d patched things up. Do you know who he is?”

Greco had no idea, but he nodded. It was important that Green believed him. “We spoke about it and she told me. She admitted the lot. He’s a colleague from work.” He’d never realised lying could be so easy. He almost smiled.

“Okay. If you need some time, let me know.”

“I need to get on with the case, sir. We may well have a breakthrough very soon.”

“Good. It’s about time things came together. What about the thing with the car? You said you saw Suzy getting into the one implicated in the murders.”

“Coincidence, sir. There are hundreds of that type of car in Oldston. And we’ve found it now anyway. It was on some spare land at the back of the block Dakin lived in. It’s been burned out. I’ve got forensics on it.”

“Good. We might get something from it.”

Greco made his way back to the main office and spoke to the team.

“Where are we up to?”

“Doctor Fielding has been on again. He was annoyed. Says it’s urgent,” said Scarlett.

Greco picked up the phone and punched in the number Scarlett had left on his desk.

“Doctor Fielding? DI Greco from Oldston CID. You wanted a word?”

“Edna Rowcroft has returned to Springbank in some distress. You told her that you suspect Neville Dakin of killing two girls. Is that true?”

“Yes, I’m afraid it is. And there are good reasons for our suspicions.”

“That’s preposterous!” said Fielding. “You don’t know him like we do. Dakin is no killer!”

“He knows things about the killings we’re investigating that we haven’t released to anybody. How do you explain that if he’s innocent?”

“He’ll have read the papers — seen a headline or something.”

“No. He told us things no one else knows. He is involved somehow, and we can’t let him go until he tells us the truth.”

“Neville’s idea of the truth is complicated . . . He won’t be happy in the cells either. He needs his medication. Did he have any tablets on him?”

“I’m not sure but I’ll find out. If not I’ll get the duty doctor to see him.”

“Alright. I will come and talk to you and Neville tomorrow morning, first thing.”

“Will you be able to tell us about Neville’s history or his condition? It might help if we understood. He seemed very confused when we interviewed him today.”

“If he agrees, then yes.” The call ended.

“The car has been picked up, sir. It was too badly burned for forensics to get anything. They can’t even determine if it was the one the paint scrapings came from.”

“The skirmish where the wing mirror got knocked off?”

“Yes. It’s a pity. That would have definitely put the car in the right area at the right time. Now the good news. Doctor Atkins rushed through the prints. The ones on the beer can and on the poker match Neville Dakin’s. Any possible DNA match to the blood found on the wall will take longer.”

Craig gave a little cheer. “The bastard can’t wriggle out of it now, voices or no voices.”

It was progress. Now they had Dakin, they were building evidence fast. But it still didn’t make any sense. Greco was convinced that he wasn’t a planner. Preparing those houses, making them ready for the killings, had been carried out by someone meticulous. From what he’d seen of Neville Dakin, that wasn’t him.

* * *

Now Greco had to face his daughter. He went round to Grace’s and explained to Matilda why she couldn’t come home. He did as Grace had suggested and said that her mummy had gone to Norfolk. Matilda accepted the excuse at once.

“You should eat something,” Grace said. “Starve yourself and you’ll be no good to anyone.” She pushed a dish into his hand. “It’s lasagne. I made two.”

Greco took it gratefully. “Thank you, Grace. I’ll return the dish. If you need me, I’ll be at the house tonight, not my flat. I’m going to have a good look round, see if I can find any clues. I don’t like spying on Suzy, but I don’t have much choice. There might be something that’ll tell me who he is.”

“If you need to talk, I’m here,” she said.

More than talk, what Greco needed was for this nightmare to end. He had an uneasy feeling. What if she never came back? What if he was already too late?

Driving home, he made a pact with himself. He would stay positive until he knew different. Suzy Greco was alive, and he was going to find her. If Neville Dakin was their man, she’d be safe while he was in custody.

The house was eerily quiet. There were no cooking smells, no television blaring away — nothing. There were several bottles of wine in the kitchen. He opened an expensive red he’d been keeping for a celebration. He’d hoped that would be when Suzy agreed to remarry him. He sat down in an armchair looking out at the garden. He rubbed his temples, trying to relax. The thing he’d forgotten just wouldn’t come. He knew it was important and it had been bothering him all day. He leaned back and drank the wine. Perhaps Grace was right. If he relaxed for a while it might help.

It was dark when he woke up. The wine bottle was almost empty and he had a thick head. He’d had precious little rest, no food and there was too much on his mind. He couldn’t keep this up. His thoughts kept returning to Suzy. Where was she? Was she even still alive? The thought of this made him panic again.

Panic gave him renewed energy. He went up to the bedroom. He’d go through everything, even if it took all night. Trouble was, he’d no idea what he was looking for.

Chapter 19

Day Five

Greco finished his search. He’d gone through everything, Suzy’s wardrobe, her drawers, her jewellery boxes. He’d even rifled through the kitchen cupboards. But he found nothing. There were no notes, no emails on the computer. She’d either been very careful or she hadn’t known her new man long.

He rustled up some toast and coffee and made a half-hearted attempt to eat. While he did, he tried Suzy’s mobile again — it was still turned off. Then, as he grabbed his car keys off the dining table, he spotted it.

The flowers! He’d been wrong. They weren’t from the garden at all. There was a card attached to them. He’d missed it. He’d been sitting here for most of the night and he’d not seen what was staring him in the face.

Now he had something to go on. The card read:
Suzy — can’t wait until later X.
The flowers had been bought from a florist in Oldston shopping precinct. He took a sheet of newspaper and carefully wrapped them.

He checked his watch. It was almost nine. He wasn’t usually this late. He’d eventually dozed off on the sofa in the early hours of the morning. The team would be getting restless and Doctor Fielding would be at the station soon. But he had to visit the florist first.

* * *

“They definitely came from us,” the manager told him. “Jackie? Did you do this one?”

A young girl came in from the back of the shop and looked at the flowers. “Yes,” she said.

“Who bought them?”

“We sell dozens of bouquets each day, Inspector,” the manager explained. “We’ll have to look through the records. If whoever bought these paid by debit or credit card then it might be easier.”

“Don’t you give receipts?”

She nodded.

“Then you should have a copy. There is a date on there.”

“I’ll have to try and work out which particular customer bought these ones. It’ll take time,” she said.

He looked at his watch again. “I have to get to the station.” He handed her a card. “Do your checks and get back to me . . . Look, this is very important. A woman’s life might depend on it. It’s that serious.”

He would probably have to lean on them. Whether he got anywhere or not was entirely down to their record keeping. There were no cameras in the shop, nor any on the street outside.

He made it to the station for nine thirty. The team had all arrived before him.

“Matilda alright?” he asked Grace as he passed her desk.

“She’s fine — slept like a log and ate everything I put in front of her.”

“Thanks, Grace. She’s obviously happy with you.”

“Doctor Fielding is here, sir.” George said.

“Right. Speedy? You and me will do this one.”

“Would you mind if I sat in?” Scarlett asked.

Greco considered this for a moment and then nodded. “Provided the doctor has no objection.”

They entered the interview room with the doctor. Neville Dakin sat with his head down, staring at his hands. “I don’t like it here,” he told Fielding.

“They are looking after you, Neville. You are quite safe. Have you taken your pills this morning?”

“The duty doctor sorted his prescription — Amisulpride,” said Greco.

“Good. He has to take them regularly.”

Greco began. “This is Sergeant Quickenden and Sergeant Seddon. We had a chat yesterday. Do you remember?”

Neville shook his head. “I don’t feel well,” he said to Fielding.

“It’s okay, Neville. Just talk to the officers. Answer their questions.”

Greco produced the photos of Jessie and Jenna again. “Do you know these two girls?”

Neville pulled a face. “I did something bad. I had to. The voice made me.” He pointed to Jenna. “I liked her.”

“So why did you hurt her?”

“It wasn’t me!” Neville was shouting now. “I had to. They don’t let up. The voices said she needed sorting. I liked her but she didn’t like me back. She wanted someone else. That made me mad.”

“What did you do to her, Neville?” Greco said.

“I shagged her.”

“Anything else?”

“I didn’t cut her. It was him. I only cut a bit of her hair.”

Greco looked at Speedy — the lock they’d found in Dakin’s room.

“Who was with you when you cut her hair?”

“
He
was.”

“Does he have a name? What do you call him?”

“I don’t know.
He
never told me!” He was shouting again.

“You meet a man. You don’t know him, you don’t know his name, but you do whatever he asks. Is that right?”

“The voices said I had to.
He
had my pills.
He
looked after me. What was I supposed to do?”

“Do you mind if I speak to the officers about your illness, Neville?” Fielding interrupted. “It might help you if they understand.”

He nodded.

“Can we go somewhere else, Inspector?”

They went into an empty room along the corridor while a uniformed officer stayed behind with Dakin.

“Neville has been ill for years,” Fielding began. “But I only began treating him a few months ago. He has severe schizophrenia. He received treatment at the Meriden in Manchester, which is a specialist hospital. Schizophrenia is a psychotic illness where the patient loses touch with reality. In Neville’s case it had reached the point where he was living completely in a fantasy world. He was very poorly because his condition had gone untreated for a long time. When he came to us he was a mess. Despite that, he was never violent. He lost his temper on occasions but once we’d talked it through, he was fine. On the whole, he was always relatively easy to control.”

“Did he ever lash out, hurt anyone?” Scarlett asked.

“No. His temper took the form of shouting, blaming everyone for what was happening to him. He got very frustrated with his condition.”

“We suspect that he was involved in the killing of those two girls. We have evidence that puts him at the scene of the murder of a young man. To me that does not sound like someone who isn’t violent,” Greco said.

“There has to be some mistake. Neville has never hurt anyone before. Even without medication he is placid, but the pills he takes keep him on an even keel.”

“The evidence against him is building. We found his fingerprints on a poker we recovered from a crime scene. That same poker was used to kill two young women.”

“There has to be some explanation.” Fielding was evidently floundering.

“Yes. It’s clear. He was there, and he took part. I want Dakin to talk to us. All this claptrap about voices is getting in the way. It’s his excuse to do whatever he likes.” Greco was angry now.

“You’re wrong, Inspector. The voices are very real to Neville. He
hears
them.”

“You reckon the voices have never told him to do anything violent in the past. So what’s changed? Do you have any suggestions, Doctor?”

“I don’t know.”

“What was he like at the height of his illness?”

“Convinced he was being watched, Inspector. He was constantly trying to hide. He believed he was being listened to, that his thoughts were being monitored. That he would be found out and punished for some imagined wrong. He was timid, and felt persecuted. He most certainly was not violent.”

“What if after he left hospital he stopped taking his pills?” Scarlett suggested.

She had a point, thought Greco.

“What if whoever is controlling him now has taken them from him? Substituted something else?” Scarlett said.

“It would depend what that something was,” Fielding said.

“Before we go any further we will have him tested. We’ll run a tox screen. Find out the truth,” Greco said.

* * *

“How’s it going?” Grace asked as the three returned to the main office.

“I’m not sure. We know a bit more about his medical history and we’re having him tested for drugs.”

Fielding came into the room. “I’ve taken a blood sample, Inspector. Do you want your people to test it?” He placed the phial on Greco’s desk. “The tests should take no longer than twenty-four hours. Can I suggest that you allow Neville to rest until the results are in?”

“Rest? I don’t think you’ve grasped this at all, Doctor. He is a vital piece of the puzzle — currently the only one we’ve got. He knows things. I need him to talk to me, not spend time flat on his back asleep.” Greco was finding it difficult to control his anger. “There is a woman out there in grave danger. She may be dead. Even worse, she may be in desperate need of help!” He was shouting now. The room was silent. Apart from Grace, none of the team knew what he was talking about.

“Interrogating him again today will do no good. He’ll shut us out. I know him. I know how he is when he’s confused and frightened.”

Greco had heard enough. He stormed out of the office. He could not sit around waiting for test results that would maybe prove Neville Dakin was high on some drug or other.

“Stephen! Wait!” Grace shouted after him. “I’m coming with you.” She pulled on her jacket as they took the stairs.

“I’m going to the florist in the precinct. They should have some information for me.” If they hadn’t, in the mood he was in right now, he might just arrest the flaming lot of them.

“You need to calm down,” she said.

“I need to find Suzy.”