Halliday nodded.
“He called me the day we found the schoolgirls’ bodies up at the farm. He wanted to give me the benefit of what he could remember when he was involved in the initial investigations when they went missing. Call him. Ask him. That wouldn’t be the actions of someone who blamed me now would it?”
Halliday hesitated, visibly sagged, then looked up and down the corridor. “Where can we get a cup of tea in this place?”
By the time they reached the canteen, Strong thought Halliday was more conciliatory, so he let him buy the teas. It was quite busy at this time of the day and Strong was lucky to find a free table in a corner. A few minutes later, the Leeds man joined him.
“Jack Cunningham was a DC when I first knew him,” Halliday began. “A year later, he was my DS when I became a DI. I saw a lot of me in him. He was a good copper, a good solid detective.”
“He still is,” Strong put in.
Halliday shook his head. “No, this thing’s finished him. He’ll take his pension and drop out.” He looked straight at Strong. “I know Jack doesn’t blame you for any of this. But I do. I detested what I saw as an officer dob his colleague in it. He told me you were a straight up sort of bloke.” He looked around to see if anyone else was near enough to hear. In a quiet voice, he continued, “But he also told me about the incident during your drugs raid.”
Strong’s heart rate increased as his thoughts returned to the discovery he’d made of compromising photos of Cunningham and DC Kathy Sharp. He’d tried his best to keep them discreet but, with the successful appeal of a young man wrongly convicted of sexual assault, the whole sordid tale had come out.
Halliday saw Strong’s expression. “The problem’s mine, not yours … or Jack’s. I suppose I’m old school. But don’t worry, I was told in the strictest confidence and that’s where it’ll remain. He said you had tried to protect him. He also knew how difficult things were for you at the time and how he must have put you in a terrible position.”
Strong relaxed slightly.
“He stressed you did everything for the right reasons. You’re a detective who has to know the whole truth, not just what’s happened but all the whys and wherefores.”
The two men looked at one another for a few moments.
“What I’m trying to say is,” Halliday reflected, “I’m sorry if I caused you unnecessary grief.”
“Forget it.”
Halliday held out his hand and after a moment’s hesitation, Strong shook it.
“So what finally led you to Szymanski and Mirczack?” Strong wondered.
“We did a check on Baker’s finances. Until about six months ago, everything seemed normal. We’d also been talking to a lot of his work colleagues at the call centre. Had his behaviour changed recently? Did he talk about his marriage? Did anything seem to be worrying him? That sort of thing.” Halliday took a drink of his tea. “Again, things seemed to have changed about six months ago. From what we’ve learned since, that was about the time he discovered the massage parlour. One advantage of placing an FLO in the house has been the odd snippet DC Walters has picked up. At times, Janice and Robert have not been the most discreet. During one frank exchange between the two, Janice had told Baker senior that his precious son hadn’t been near her for over a year, if you know what I mean?”
Strong nodded.
“She began to wonder if he’d been seeing someone else, someone from work maybe. However, our investigations at Olympia Insurance came up with nothing.”
Strong leaned forward. “But how did you make a connection to Sweet Sensations?”
“Ah, that was thanks to you. After you’d spoken to Robert, he was keen to find out if Janice had any inclination. So, as I said, Rebecca, DC Walters, kept her ears open and heard him ask her if the name Sweet Sensations meant anything to her. It didn’t and he had to do some quick thinking to put her off. So, I thought I’d do some digging around with that place myself and came across the names Szymanski and Mirczack.”
“What was unusual about his finances then?”
“Up until around six months ago, everything was as you might expect for a married couple of their age, mortgage, two salaries, a few hundred quid on credit cards that they never seemed able to pay off, that kind of thing. But then regular cash withdrawals of a hundred pounds from a number of cash machines between here and Leeds began to appear.”
“About the time he discovers Sensations,” Strong added.
“So it would seem. Then, about six weeks ago, they stop. On his credit cards, there’s all the usual items; petrol, weekly supermarket shop, etcetera. Then again about six weeks ago, they disappear. Yes, there’s still the big one off’s, I think he renewed the house insurance on his card. But nothing for the day-to-day items that were there before. And he’s managed to clear them for once.”
“About six weeks ago is when the first of the cars were knocked off. So if he was paid for his involvement in that, with cash, that would explain how suddenly, petrol and food bills were paid for, in readies,” Strong considered.
“Exactly.”
Strong’s attention was caught by Ormerod approaching from the other side of the room.
“Ah, Luke, have you met DCI Halliday from the Leeds Murder Squad?”
“Sir,” Ormerod acknowledged.
“What news from the front?” Strong enquired.
“We’ve been to Back Cooper Street and now have another four young women in the interview rooms.”
“Did you get anything from them on the way in?”
“Not a great deal. Same story as the others. Came here on the promise of a proper job. Szymanski drives them in and out of Sensations.”
Strong looked across at Halliday. “Do you want to sit in when we interview them, Frank?”
Halliday shook his head. “Can’t see the point. Can’t think they’d have much to add to what the others have already told you. Until Mirczack shows up, there’s not a lot more I can do.” He stood up. “Thanks, Colin. Keep me informed please.” He held out his hand once more.
Strong shook it again. “Sure.”
When he’d left, Ormerod looked back at Strong. “Did I just see what I think I saw,” he said.
“Don’t worry about it Luke.” Strong rose and the two walked out of the canteen.
“As Frank says, I can’t see that these other women can add much more. I’ll let you, Kelly, John and Vince interview them. If anything interesting does come up, let me know.”
“So what are you doing now then, guv?”
“I’m behind with my reports, Luke,” Strong smiled. “You know how it goes. And no doubt Immigration will be glad to have to come back and collect another four women.”
As he got back to his office, Flynn followed and closed the door. “Made your peace then?”
“I think we’re looking at things from the same angle now, sir.”
“Good.” Flynn walked over to the window and looked out. “He’s not a well man, you know?”
“I didn’t.” He hid his puzzlement.
“This will be his last case. He’s retiring at the end of the month.”
“Sorry to hear that, sir.”
Flynn turned round and gave Strong a look that said, no you’re not. Aloud, he said, “Carry him through, Colin.”
Strong opened his mouth to reply but Flynn was half out the door. “Thanks.”
55
“Look, John. I’m closer to this story than any reporter has been to any I know. If it wasn’t for Susan, they’d still be lying in that cold, damp basement. She’s off to Leeds to study journalism as soon as she’s back on her feet. She’s a bright girl; woman really.”
Souter was in Chandler’s office. He’d been called up to go through what was going to form the front page of the first evening edition. He’d had a good run up the M1 from Gillian’s house and was back to the office within twenty minutes. He’d read through Susan’s draft and thought it was a good attempt at a report. A few minor adjustments here and there and some additional information that Souter had gleaned, and it was submitted to his editor.
“This is all well and good, Bob,” Chandler retorted, “But I decide how we’re going to present the stories. And …”
“I promised her,” Souter persisted.
The heated debate surrounded the headlines which were normally the domain of the editor. In this instance, Souter thought Susan had come up with exactly the right words to describe the mood and feeling. He’d also insisted Susan was given part credit. Chandler had reluctantly conceded that. But only on this occasion.
He waited as his boss stared from the window over the construction sites that stretched back to the old Wellington Street railway station. Finally, he turned round. “Okay, this one time. And only because we’ve known each other so long. Go with it.”
“Thanks, John.”
Chandler nodded and Souter left the room.
An hour later, he picked up a copy of the first edition of that night’s Yorkshire Evening Post. Under an ‘EXCLUSIVE’ banner, he read:
TORMENT
The torment for the families of two schoolgirls missing for over ten years continued today with the discovery of two bodies in a derelict farmhouse near Pontefract.
Report by Robert Souter
Crime and Home Affairs Correspondent and
Susan Brown
Guest Reporter
He smiled as he read the opening again. Yes, Susan would like that, he thought.
56
“Hi Bob!” Sammy shouted from the kitchen as he came through Alison’s front door.
Alison was sitting on her legs on the settee, glass of white wine in hand. “Sammy’s cooking a chilli,” she said. “Got something to celebrate.”
“Oh, yes.” Souter removed his jacket and sat down next to Alison.
“Yes.” She gave him a kiss. “I’ll let her tell you.”
Sammy appeared at the kitchen doorway. “I got the job,” she beamed.
Souter jumped up. “Well done you.” He gave her a hug. “When do you start?”
“Monday. And I’m cooking a meal for you both to say thanks for all you’ve done for me.”
“Aw, thanks, Sammy. I’m really pleased for you. You deserve a break.”
“And, I’ve got something else for you. But that’ll have to wait until we’ve eaten.” Sammy turned back into the kitchen.
He sat back down with Alison. “I’m intrigued.”
“She’s done well. They liked her.”
The chilli was a success. She served it with rice and hot crusty bread.
“So where will you be working exactly?” Souter enquired between mouthfuls of food.
“From what I can gather I’ll probably be spending a bit of time in most departments. A bit of filing and photocopying to start with but Alison reckons they’ll give me something more interesting once I’ve settled in.”
“They should do,” Alison agreed. “I’m sure you’ll impress.”
“Well I couldn’t have done it unless you’d put in a word. And I would probably be in some squat somewhere if you hadn’t had faith in me, Bob.” She was struggling to keep her emotions in check.
“You’ll do well, Sammy,” he said. “You’ve got a personality and a lot of balls.”
Sammy wiped a hand over her face and chuckled. “I wouldn’t go that far. Anyway, I thought Susan’s debut in print today was excellent. They were her words, weren’t they?”
“Yes it was her headline idea, although I did have a job on to convince Chandler not to change that. All I did was beef up some of the body of the article, but mostly it was her writing.”
“I’m sure she’s delighted with it. Probably frame it on her wall.”
Souter smiled. “I know. So what else have you got for me then, Sammy?”
“Barry Whitefield,” she said with a grin. “I’ve found him.”
“You have? How the … You’re a genius, Sammy.”
“You’ve just got to know how to conduct a logical search, that’s all.”
“So where does this Barry reside?”
“Jaywick.”
“Where?”
“Jaywick. It’s just outside Clacton.”
“Clacton? That’s Essex, isn’t it?”
“Yep. I looked it up. On the coast, just beyond Colchester. Did you know Colchester was Britain’s oldest recorded town?”
Souter laughed. “Full of information, aren’t you.”
“It’s interesting.” Sammy began to clear their plates to the sink, squeezed washing-up liquid from a bottle and ran some hot water.
“But anyway,” Souter thought aloud, “I’m not even sure that’s where these two characters are.”
“They are still missing, aren’t they?”
“As of last night, yes.”
“Well, if they’d been seen off like that Chris Baker, they’d have turned up somewhere by now, wouldn’t they?” Sammy began to wash the plates and cutlery.
“Unless they were disposed of where they would never be found.” Souter picked up a tea towel, lifted a plate from the draining board and began to dry. “I mean, maybe when they topped Chris, whoever it was, was disturbed and they had to leave him there?”
“No, you said that had all the hallmarks of a professional hit. He was left to be found.”
“Look, can we talk about something a bit more pleasant?” Alison put in. “I’ve just eaten and I don’t want to discuss gory details about any of this.”
Sammy grinned. “Sorry.”
“But can I just ask you one last thing,” Souter persisted, “how do you know this Barry Whitefield is Steve Chapman’s cousin?”
“Ah,” she said, “I trawled through all sorts of records. Chapman’s mother and Whitefield’s mother are sisters.”
“I’m impressed,” he said.
Kitchen left tidy once more, they made their way back into the living room.
“So what are you going to do?” Sammy wondered. “Are you going to pass that information on to your friend?”
“Colin? No, I don’t think so.” Souter was thoughtful. “I think maybe a trip to Essex might be on the cards. If I get in early on Monday and finish what I have to do, I could take the rest of the day off and head down there.”