DARK HOUSES a gripping detective thriller full of suspense (6 page)

“It feels right to me. I don’t see any point in waiting.”

“Don’t push it, Stephen. I like things the way they are.”

“We’re no longer married. Don’t you want to put that right?”

She shrugged. “Is it that important? We’re happy enough. Why spoil it?”

“Marriage won’t spoil anything. And I’d like things to be right. If we’re staying together, then we should make it official,” he said.

“What would that achieve? I don’t see that it makes any difference if we’re married or not. We tried that once and it didn’t work. This is far better if you ask me.”

“In what way better? I don’t understand why you want to hold back. If we got remarried it would put our relationship on a more secure footing.”

“So you’re insecure.” She stood facing him, her hands on her hips. “Stephen, leave it. Things are fine. We’re fine and, more to the point, Matilda is happy.”

“Okay. If that’s what you want.”

“Yes it is.” There was an edge to her voice now.

But he couldn’t leave it. Her attitude to their relationship bothered him. “So what am I to you? Simply a bolthole you make for when your parents get heavy? I get the impression you’re not really settling in Oldston.”

If things got tough, like they had in the past, Suzy might walk away again. And this bothered him.

“I came here first — remember! You are living in the house I rent! So you’ve got it wrong. This is where I’ve made my home. Do I say anything about missing Norfolk?”

“No, but you’re not happy, are you? Not really.”

“I’ve got a good job. I’m making friends and Matilda is certainly settled. What more do you want?”

“Matilda is a child. She’d settle anywhere as long as we were with her. You don’t seem to be committed to this relationship. I’m looking for more than just a live-in lover,” he said.

“Live-in lover . . . I rather like it,” she said. “It makes me feel naughty. I quite like having a man in my bed who’s not my husband. It’ll give me a certain kudos at work. What about you?”

“It unsettles me, that’s what it does.”

“Then get over it. We’re fine. I don’t know what else to say to convince you.”

“If we did get married, it wouldn’t have to be a big affair. Just you, me and a couple of witnesses.”

“Not now, Stephen.”

Irritation was creeping back into her voice. Greco shook his head. Something was going on, and he’d no idea what it was.

* * *

Screaming and swearing, she stumbled through the club doorway, fell into the gutter and threw up. The bouncer shook his head and went back inside.

“Bastard!” she shouted after him. “My stuff’s in there.”

Moments later the bouncer reappeared and tossed her bag and a pair of high heels onto the pavement.

She was young. Probably too young to be clubbing. The man watching from the shadows put her at about seventeen. She was skinny with long wavy blonde hair that flowed, dishevelled now, down her back and over her face.

“Having trouble, love? You look cold. That dress doesn’t cover much.”

“Get lost, perv.” She tried to stand but lurched forward onto him.

“Steady on. You’ve had a skinful by the looks of it. Where are your friends?”

“Dumped ’em. Stupid lot.” She pulled a sulky face, brushed her hair back and picked up her bag. “Need a taxi.”

“I am a taxi,” the man said. He pointed to a car parked a few feet away. “Where d’you want to go?”

She made no reply and staggered round to the back of his car.

“You haven’t got one of them plate things,” she said. “You could be anyone.”

Parents’ words. She’d have been told many times never to do this.

“My daughter’s about your age,” he said. “She’s at the sixth form now, doing A levels.”

It seemed to reassure her. “I go there,” she said, and smiled.

“My Annie broke her wrist or it’d be her I was waiting for,” he said. “She loves going to that place.” He nodded towards the club. “Cheap drinks and good music, so she tells me. Which way are you going?”

“Towards the Link.”

“My fare hasn’t turned up. At least let me get you away from this part of town. It’s not the place for a young girl to be alone at night. Anything could happen.”

“I should ring my mum,” she said. She rummaged in her bag.

“Tell her you’ve got a taxi. Tell her not to worry.”

The girl nodded. “You could speak to her.”

“No, just tell her you’ll be home soon. It’s easier.”

She swiped buttons on her phone. He listened to the conversation, which quickly turned into an argument. Finally she threw her phone back into her bag.

“Stupid woman just goes on and on about how late it is. Can you believe she’s been walking the streets looking for me? I told her I was coming here and I said I’d be late.”

“I’ll have you home in no time. Come on.”

“She asked me to send a photo of your plate,” she said, looking again at the rear of the saloon. “What shall I do?”

“It must have fallen off as I came over the bridge. I’ll have to get another one made tomorrow.”

“I could photograph the registration plate,” she said, and took a shot.

“You shouldn’t keep your mother waiting. Hop in and let’s go.”

“I’m trying to send her the picture but I can’t see anything back here,” she said.

“There’s not much signal round here anyway. I’d give it up if I were you.” He watched her throw the phone onto the seat beside her.

“Does your daughter like the sixth form?”

“Yes, I think so. It’s hard work but she needs the grades for uni. She wants to be a vet,” he said.

“I don’t know what I want to do. My mum says I should get a job and earn some money. But there isn’t anything out there for people my age, is there? My mum doesn’t know what she’s talking most of the time.”

“Even so, you don’t want to worry her. You’ve had a lot to drink. Here, get this down you.” He threw her a bottle of water. “It’ll sober you up.”

He drove round the back streets, avoiding the CCTV on the main roads. He was pleased. It had gone like clockwork, just like the last one.

She was practically lying down on the back seat now. With what he’d put in that water, she’d be out of it soon. He drove slowly, and as he turned into Archibald Terrace he turned off the car headlights.

“Come on, girlie, we’re here. Time to have some fun.” She was dopey as he helped her out, so she didn’t ask questions or struggle. He took the key from his pocket and let them into the house. He chuckled at the confusion on her face as she walked through the door. It changed to a look of terror when she saw what was waiting for her.

Chapter 6

Day Two

At five the next morning, Greco’s mobile became a buzzing glow on the bedside table. He grabbed it and looked. The station.

“Who is it at this hour?” Suzy groaned.

“Trouble. Something must have happened,” he replied.

“Go downstairs and take it, Stephen, or you’ll wake Matilda.”

He grabbed his dressing gown and went down.

“Duty sergeant, sir,” the voice began. “Archibald Terrace. A woman heard screaming from the empty house next door. She went round the back and saw someone leaving. Whoever it was had left the back door open. She got her husband to go inside and check.” There was a few seconds’ silence. “From what she said it sounds like the other one, sir. Like the one on Arnold Street.”

Greco’s stomach churned.

“What is it?” Suzy had come downstairs to join him.

“The case. I need to go. We’ve got another one.”

“What’s going on, Stephen? Two murders in as many days?”

She was right to be concerned. Whoever was doing this had been busy. These killings weren’t spontaneous. The house, getting hold of the key, it all took organising. But how did he select his victims? Greco had been looking to Jessie Weston’s life to provide a clue, but there was no clue. Apart from her rather volatile relationships with those close to her, Jessie had led a normal life.

“Will you come back, have some breakfast and get ready properly?” Suzy asked. “You have a routine in the mornings. If you deviate too much, you’ll be uncomfortable all day.”

He looked at her, his face grim. “I have to go. I can’t do anything else. I’ll try and get an hour later on to sort myself out.”

“You should eat at the very least. Ring me if you need anything. We’re having staff development today, so no students. I can easily get away.”

He’d been doing well with Suzy’s help. He couldn’t lose her again. It would do him no good at all to go through the upheaval of a second break-up. Suzy kept his life simple. Everything was in its place, meals were on time, and the household ran smoothly. If she left him again, he’d crumble. He knew he would.

“I’ll be fine,” he said. He kissed her cheek and went back upstairs to get dressed.

* * *

By the time Greco got there half the street had been taped off, front and back. Archibald Street was short, with twelve terraced houses either side. The house in question, number four, had a ‘for sale’ board outside it. Harvey & Son were handling the sale.

“The bloke next door is really cut up,” a uniformed officer told him. “His wife was putting rubbish out in the bin when she spotted the intruder. Whoever it was had left the back door open. She got her husband to have a look inside. He wouldn’t let her go in. It’s really bad in there.”

“How far are we from Arnold Street?”

“Top of here, turn right, then it’s the second street along. No distance at all.”

“Have the people from the Duggan arrived?”

“A local GP confirmed death, not that there could have been any doubt, according to the neighbour. Doctor Barrington and her team arrived five minutes or so before you. They’re in there now.”

Greco inhaled deeply. He knew the scene inside the house was going to be bad. He heard someone call his name. It was Speedy. He appeared in the doorway, ashen-faced.

“It’s awful in there,” he said. “It’s like a bloody slaughterhouse. The neighbour two doors down has made some tea. I’ll get a mug if you don’t mind. Want some?”

Greco shook his head. “How old?”

“Young. Teens, I’d say.” Speedy’s voice quivered as he spoke.

“Everything’s very much as yesterday except that there’s a lot more blood,” Natasha Barrington told him when he went inside. “Stripped naked, strung up from a beam, speared through the heart with something hot. More of that awful cutting to the face and raped. The blood is everywhere, even up the walls. He pierced the aorta and it’s splattered everywhere.”

“Her name was Rosa Hudson,” Roxy Atkins said.

“Have the photos been taken?” Greco asked.

“He’s just started.”

The photographer briefly pulled the mask from his mouth and smiled.

“You met Mark at Arnold Street,” Roxy explained. “Mark Brough, one of our new crime scene investigators. If there’s anything you want to know and I’m not available, just ask him.”

“Get everything done as quickly as you can and take her down.”

Natasha looked at Greco’s face and nodded.

“She was very young. Pretty too,” Mark said.

“Expert, are you?” Greco said.

“No — but they both were, and blonde. There might be something in that.”

“You stick to what you do and leave the detective work to us,” Greco snapped.

“Look, this is no easier for us than it is for you,” said Mark. “She’s young, she’s pretty, it’s a damn waste. That’s all I meant.”

“Do we know anything other than her name?”

Roxy Atkins nodded. “We have her provisional driving licence.”

“We’ll take samples of everything, Stephen. But whoever he is, this guy is good,” Natasha said. “The forensic team went over the property in Arnold Street with a fine tooth comb and got nothing.”

“But he leaves their ID behind. He makes it easy for us to find the families. Why is that, do you think?”

“Rubbing it in? Wants to cause as much pain as he can? Who knows what goes on in the minds of such people, Stephen?”

“Does anyone know how she got here?”

“The neighbour thinks in a car. A dark coloured one, about midnight,” the uniformed officer said. “I’ve asked along the street, but apart from the screaming no one noticed anything.”

“How did he get in?”

“He must have had a key because there’s no sign of a break-in.”

“Like I said, much as before,” Natasha said.

Greco turned on his heel and went back outside. He’d seen enough. The look on the girl’s face had chilled him to the bone.

“Sir?” Roxy Atkins called out. “She has a stamp on her wrist from a club in town. Her clothing also suggests that’s where she’d been last night.”

“Any idea which one?”

“
The Rave
I’d say from the stamp. Her clothing was folded like the last one and a square of fabric is missing from her dress.”

So he was taking trophies. She was unlikely to have gone to the club alone. Someone might know who she left with. He went in search of Speedy.

“Who called you?” Greco asked Speedy.

“The station, at some ungodly hour this morning. By the time I got here, uniform had sorted the area and rung the Duggan.”

“Any ideas?”

“He’s a bloody nutjob. I reckon he stakes out the property first. He seems to use a certain type of house. He likes them old, needing work, and with a fireplace to heat that poker thing he uses.” Speedy tossed the remains of his tea into the gutter. “First he works all that out, then he goes on the hunt.”

“Very good. My thoughts too. That means this house was already set up prior to last night. It’s the getting in that’s puzzling me. There’s no break-in, so he has to have had a key. I can’t believe that no one saw or heard anything. He must have visited at some time before bringing the girl.”

“That estate agent needs another visit if you ask me. Slimy sod. He must know something. Both houses are on his books. Bit of a coincidence that.”

“Get the team down here and knock on every door. Do Arnold Street again, too. Speak to everyone. Make it a priority.”

“These people don’t say much, sir. The curtains twitch a lot. I’m sure some of them see more than they’ll admit to. But they don’t want dragging into any of this.”

“Keep at them. Sooner or later one of them will give us something. These girls didn’t live in the area. The latest girl would have stood out, all that blonde hair and being so young.”

“We’ve got visitors, sir.”

Greco looked at a red car that had pulled up a few yards away.

It was the press.

“Looks like you’ve got another one, Inspector,” a voice called out. “Got anything to say? Fancy giving us that press conference yet?”

“Laycock!” Speedy turned his back on the man. “Bloody pest.”

A uniformed officer went to have a word and moments later the reporter drove off.

“What’s the betting he’ll be back with cash in his hand the minute we’ve gone,” Speedy said. “I bet he gets some response from the greedy buggers on this street.”

“It’s still very early,” Greco said. “How come Laycock got to know so soon?”

“We could always drag him in and ask,” Speedy said. “I’d like to see that bastard squirm.”

“We might just do that. Are you going back to the station?”

“I’m nipping home first, get some breakfast. I’ll be back in about an hour with the team.”

Greco nodded. Speedy made for his car. Greco went back into the house. “What else did she have in her bag, apart from the licence?” he asked Roxy.

“Just some make-up and a few coins.”

“No phone?”

“No, and that’s odd given her age. You know what they’re like, these kids.”

“Let me take a photo of the licence. I’ll visit the address shortly and speak to the parents.”

“I don’t envy you that one,” Natasha said. “You must really hate that part of the job.”

Greco nodded. She had no idea how much.

“The PM will be later today, but she’ll need identifying officially first. Let me know when you’ve found her next of kin.”

The prospect of having to give some unsuspecting parents the dreadful news turned Greco’s stomach.

“Inspector!” It was Roxy Atkins. “There is what looks like the remains of a mobile phone in the fire embers. The plastic bits have melted, but we still might get something.”

“He must have thrown it in there. She could have called someone or sent a text. Get onto the service provider for the records, will you?”

Roxy nodded.

Greco decided that he’d go home before going to the station. He doubted that he could eat any breakfast. He wanted to clean up again, and to catch Suzy and Matilda before they left.

* * *

“More mayhem?” Suzy said.

“The very worst. Don’t ask. The details are sickening.” He whispered this so his daughter wouldn’t hear.

“Why couldn’t you have gone into teaching, or social work or something, Stephen? I don’t think police work is doing you any good.”

“It’s the choice I made. I can’t do anything else.” This was an old argument and he didn’t want to have it now.

“You’re not coping. Your colleagues don’t see it, but I do. You need to think about it. Stress is a killer.”

He didn’t reply. Matilda was in her uniform, ready for school. He picked her up and spun her around. “Got anything exciting on today, Tillyflop?”

“I’ve got to write a story about Mortimer, then I have to read it out to the class,” she told him proudly. “He’s been really good and eaten all his breakfast.”

“We’ll have to leave,” Suzy said. “I’ll drop Matilda off and get into college early if you’re sure you can manage. This staff development is all about a college inspection so I’d better show my face.”

“I can take her if it helps,” Greco said.

“We have to take Mortimer too,” said Matilda.

“He can sit in the back with you.”

“Are you sure, Stephen? You look very edgy. Do you need some time before you go back to work?”

“No. It’s better if I just get on with things.”

“Look, why not shower and change and I’ll make some coffee. Half an hour won’t hurt. Matilda doesn’t have to be there until nine.”

There was no way he could hide anything from Suzy. She saw it all. “We are okay, aren’t we?” he said.

“Yes. Stop worrying.”

“Only, after yesterday I thought perhaps you wanted all this to stop.”

“No. I’m fine. But you are not easy to live with, are you? Work comes first, it always has. You can’t blame me, Stephen. It was work that got in the way the last time.”

“It’s what the job is. Crime doesn’t do nine to five.”

“But you could, if you did something else.”

So there it was. She wasn’t happy with him staying in the force. So why not just come out and say it? They would have to talk some more — but not now.

By the time Greco returned to the sitting room he was feeling better. Suzy was staring out of the window at a car parked across the road. He had a look. He wasn’t sure but it could be the press. What they hoped to gain by following him home he could only guess at.

“If that man in the car is press, this is harassment. Don’t speak to him — about anything,” he said. “They’re a menace, the whole lot of them. All they think about is getting a story they can sell to the nationals. Well, the crimes we’re dealing with are certainly big enough.”

“You shouldn’t jump to conclusions. He could be anyone. This is really getting to you, isn’t it?”