Double Dealing Read online

  She sent a quick text to DCI Kendrick, explaining she had to nip out and that she’d be back soon. He would be on the phone with the Super for a while and she might be back at the station before he even realised that she’d gone.

  She hoped so, knowing Kendrick wouldn’t be amused by another of Knight’s ‘mystery man’ routines. She pulled on her coat, shouldered her bag and ran down the stairs. Whatever Knight was up to, it had better be worth her while.

  * * *

  Knight lived in a small village, accessible only by negotiating a maze of country lanes. Catherine threaded her way through them as quickly as she dared, knowing that these roads were never gritted. She wouldn’t be able to be quite so smug about Geoff Chantry smashing up his car if she ended up doing so herself a few hours later.

  Finally she spotted Knight’s grey stone cottage. His car was parked in the driveway, and another vehicle had been shoved in behind it, a huge, menacing-looking black four-by-four. Catherine frowned. What was going on here? She pulled up onto the kerb and sat for a second. Taking out her phone to snap a picture of the unfamiliar car, she felt her heart rate quicken. She only had Knight’s word for it that he was here, at his house. What if Shea and Allan were right? What if Knight had killed Paul Hughes? She had believed, during their last case, that she was beginning to know him a little better, but could she truly say she did?

  Get a grip, Catherine, she told herself, forcing down the doubts. Kendrick had faith in Knight, and she knew she did too. She climbed out of her car and locked the door, still watching the black vehicle as if it were a vicious dog snarling on a chain of unknown length. It looked empty. There could be someone lying in wait on the back seat, of course, waiting to grab her as she walked by.

  She gave the car as wide a berth as possible, even though she knew she was being ridiculous. There were lights on in Knight’s house – he was there. She hurried towards the front door and gave it a hearty thump.

  It swung open and a middle-aged man in a smart suit stood grinning at her, one leather-gloved hand resting on the door frame.

  In the other hand, he held a gun.

  Chapter 50

  Catherine gulped, her heart apparently trying to escape from her body via her throat. For a second, she thought she was going to throw up all over his pointy black shoes.

  ‘Sergeant Bishop? I’m Malc Hughes. Thank you for coming.’ He waved the gun airily, beckoning her inside. It was the last thing she wanted to do, but she wasn’t going to say so, not to him, and not to the gun. He stepped back as she stumbled forward, closed the door and turned to her.

  ‘Your boss is in the living room with some associates of mine.’ Swallowing hard, Catherine took a couple of steps, then faltered. Hughes stopped too and gave a chuckle. ‘I’m not going to hurt you, if that’s what’s worrying you.’

  Catherine half-turned and looked him in the eye. ‘And I’m supposed to believe that?’

  He smiled and waved the gun again. She set her jaw and marched into the living room, his footsteps heavy on the wooden flooring as he walked close behind her. Knight stood in the middle of the room with his hands in his trouser pockets. He didn’t look worried, and Catherine felt panic clutch her stomach again. Why had she come here alone? Knight was odd; people kept her telling her so. What if his oddness was a cover for more sinister behaviour? Had he been working for Malc Hughes all along? It wasn’t unheard of, of course. The memory of that rough, jagged tattoo lurking on his back again flitted into her brain. A warning, a threat as Knight himself had said, or a brand of ownership? She clenched her jaw and held her head high. She wasn’t going to let them see how frightened she was.

  Then Knight turned his head and met her eyes, and at once, she knew she could trust him. She had no idea why; he didn’t speak, didn’t even mouth words of reassurance, but she was certain all the same. She risked a shaky smile, and Knight nodded. Hughes stepped forward.

  ‘You’re no doubt wondering why you’ve been asked to come here, Sergeant Bishop?’ he asked, his tone pleasant.

  ‘It’s crossed my mind,’ she admitted, pleased to hear that her voice didn’t betray her fear.

  Hughes laughed before raising his voice to a shout. ‘Come in here.’

  Catherine heard footsteps in the hallway and two men shuffled into the room, one fairly short, the other tall and thin. They were handcuffed together, their faces bruised and bleeding. Catherine stared at them, then at Knight. Hughes glared at his prisoners, his eyes venomous, his lips drawn back over his teeth in a snarl.

  ‘These are the men who murdered my son.’

  There was a silence. The men didn’t deny it, just stood looking down at their shoes. Hughes walked over to Knight and held out the gun.

  ‘This belongs to him.’ He nodded at the taller man. ‘Might come in handy for evidence?’

  Knight came to life at last. ‘Catherine, do you have any gloves?’

  Catherine stared at him, then rummaged in her bag, feeling as though she were sleepwalking. These men had killed Paul Hughes? And Malc was just handing them over as if they were some lost property he’d found?

  ‘Here.’ She handed Knight a pair of gloves and an evidence bag.

  ‘Thanks.’ Knight slipped on the gloves, took the gun from Hughes and dropped it into the bag.

  ‘Then there’s this.’ Hughes nodded at the smaller man, who swallowed. With his free hand, he removed a digital camera from the inside pocket of his jacket and held it out.

  ‘Those photos that that wanker Shea has? They were taken on this camera. No doubt their prints are all over it and maybe even some of Paul’s blood,’ Hughes said. His voice was quiet, emotionless. Catherine wondered what he was feeling under the surface, what he saw when he closed his eyes at night. She pulled out another evidence bag and allowed the man to meekly deposit the camera inside.

  Hughes jerked his head towards his prisoners. ‘Their names are Miodrag Adzic and Petar Latas,’ he said. ‘They killed my son. They’ve confessed, and I’m sure you’ll be able to prove it was them with DNA or whatever magical tests you use these days.’

  Knight and Catherine kept quiet. Hughes lifted his arm and glanced at a huge, expensive-looking watch. ‘Now, I have to go, it’s past my bedtime.’ He moved close to Catherine, and though her instinct was to run, she held her ground. He held out a hand and she shook it. ‘Good to meet you, Sergeant Bishop. We won’t be seeing each other again though, more’s the pity.’

  She caught a whiff of expensive aftershave as he turned away, and her breath caught in her throat.

  ‘And Jonathan.’ Hughes didn’t shake Knight’s hand, just leant close and whispered in his ear. Knight shied away like a startled horse and Hughes laughed. He marched up to the two men and suddenly, his arm whipping out as fast as a striking snake, grabbed the smaller one by the throat. ‘I hope I never see you two again. You remember what I’ve said.’

  Both men nodded, their faces clenched tight like fists. Hughes smiled in satisfaction and let go. ‘I’ll see myself out.’

  He sauntered away.

  Catherine waited until she heard the front door close and the engine of the black four-by-four roar as Hughes sped away. She let out a breath she hadn’t been aware of holding and rounded on Knight.

  ‘Well?’ It was almost a scream. Knight came closer and took her arm.

  ‘Let’s go into the other room.’

  Catherine glanced at the two men. ‘What about them?’

  ‘They’re not going anywhere.’

  * * *

  In the kitchen, Catherine ran her hands through her hair.

  ‘Do you want to tell me what’s going on, why you’ve got a gangster as a house guest?’

  ‘He’s not a house guest. I doubt I’ll ever see him again.’

  ‘So what happened? How are you going to explain this? That you just came home and found two murderers and two bags of evidence in your living room? Maybe Father Christmas left them for you, I don’t know.’ Knight was trying to speak but she k
ept ranting, all of the frustrations of the past few days spilling out. ‘This is the end of your career, you know that, don’t you? Shea and Allan are dying to get you sacked and here you are having a fucking dinner party with Malc Hughes. Why did you phone me? If you want to end your own career, then that’s up to you, but I don’t see why I should be dragged down with you.’ She ran out of steam and Knight stepped forward.

  ‘Catherine, I know how it looks…’

  ‘Really?’ she spat.

  ‘Listen, let me explain. Shea had me in the Super’s office again earlier, going on and on about those stupid photos. While I was in there, my mobile rang. Shea got a bit shirty and told me I might as well answer it. It was Hughes.’

  ‘While you were still talking to Shea?’

  ‘Yeah, great timing. He’d phoned me earlier as well, but I cut him off. God knows how he got my number. Anyway, he said since Shea and Allan interviewed him he’d been making some enquiries of his own. When I asked where he was, he told me he was sitting on my sofa.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘He was too. I walked in and there he was, as large as life, with the gun on his lap and those two blokes sitting on my kitchen floor.’

  ‘Bloody hell. So how did he find them?’

  ‘I’ve no idea. I don’t want to know. I’m sorry to drag you into it, but I wanted someone else to witness what happened. Hughes wanted that too.’

  ‘That’s fine, but how are we going to explain it to DCI Kendrick and the Super?’

  ‘I’ve thought about that. They’ll have to take the camera and the gun out of the evidence bags first though.’

  Chapter 51

  Dan Raynor had been crying again, the dried snot and tears covering the lower half of his face like a half-shed skin. He glanced up as Catherine and Knight entered the interview room. Catherine readied the recording equipment, and they ran through the preliminaries.

  ‘Now, Dan. You’ve decided to proceed without having a solicitor present?’ Catherine asked.

  He sniffed. ‘I don’t want anyone.’ He looked up at them, his eyes red and puffy. ‘Is Lauren okay?’

  ‘We’ve heard from the hospital. They’re going to keep her in for a few days, but she’ll be fine.’

  ‘What about Mark?’

  Catherine cleared her throat. ‘His legs were badly damaged and he suffered internal injuries.’ Dan’s lips quivered but he fought for control as he watched Catherine’s face. She met his gaze. ‘I’m afraid Mark Cook died before the ambulance reached the hospital.’

  ‘I can’t believe Geoff would do that to him,’ Dan whispered. Then he hesitated, a tiny, mirthless smile creeping across his face. ‘No, wait. Of course I can.’

  ‘We need to ask you some questions about Geoff Chantry,’ Knight said.

  ‘Of course.’ Dan gulped.

  ‘Explain to us how Keeley Pearce died.’ Catherine’s voice was flat.

  Raynor bit his lip. ‘She was carrying packets of coke in her stomach. She was supposed to get the ferry back, but she phoned Sid and said she was feeling ill, so Geoff agreed to go and fetch her.’

  ‘Go and fetch her? How?’ They already knew the answer, but Catherine wanted the full story.

  ‘He can fly planes. He and Mr Worthy started learning at the same time. It was like a competition. Whoever qualified first could choose the plane they ended up with. They bought it between them. They used to run a raffle at work every month and they’d take the winner up in it. I never won, I’m not that lucky, but it kept people interested, you know? Anyway, all that stopped when Geoff retired and Alex took over. Alex flies as well, but he’d never take any of us up.’

  Catherine glanced at Knight. Auditors would be arriving at Worthy and Son’s premises on Monday morning. John Worthy had taken their warnings about Alex’s lifestyle and Worthy and Son’s diminishing cash flow seriously. Meanwhile, Jemima Morley had confirmed that she had been underage when Lambert had first taken an interest in her, during her work experience at the factory, and that he had paid her to keep their relationship a secret. They might never know if Keeley Pearce had really phoned to beg Lambert for money; Knight had suggested that she could have been blackmailing Lambert if she knew he had been stealing from the company, but at this point it was guesswork.

  ‘Tell us about your relationship with Geoff Chantry,’ Catherine asked Dan.

  Raynor licked his lips. ‘I’ve always worked in packing – it’s not a bad job, keeps you fit and they’re a good bunch of people. Anyway, I got a call from Geoff one day, out of the blue, just after he retired. He asked me if I’d do him a favour. I said yes, of course. He’d always been good to me, good to us all. He said he had a package to send, a present he’d bought for his wife’s birthday he was returning because it wasn’t suitable. He didn’t want her to see it, so he said if he dropped it off, would I make sure it went out with the rest of the post.’

  ‘And you said yes?’ Knight probed.

  ‘Well, yeah. Why not? I had no reason to suspect anything. It was just a small box, well packaged. He told me it was an ornament and to be careful with it, then gave me twenty quid. That was it, or so I thought. I did the same thing a couple more times over the next few months, thought nothing of it. Then one day, Sid came up to me at break time and said he wanted a word. I was terrified. I thought he’d realised what I was doing and was going to tell Mr Worthy. He said he wanted a chat and that he’d pick me up at my flat later that night.’

  ‘And did he?’ Catherine asked.

  Raynor met her eyes and nodded.

  ‘For the recording, please,’ Catherine reminded him.

  ‘Sorry. Yes, he did, and we went to a pub. I’d never been there before; it was quiet. Sid bought me a drink and asked if I wanted to earn a few quid. I said yes. My nan’s ill and I… You have to understand, I didn’t know that there was anything dodgy in it. Sid had always seemed such a straight bloke. We drove straight to the ferry port in Hull and collected a young lad.’

  ‘His name?’ Knight wanted to know.

  ‘I never knew it, I’m sorry. We took him to this house, scruffy little terrace in town. Sid told him he’d pick him up in the morning and that he knew what to do, then locked him in the bedroom.’ He paused and ran his tongue over his lips again. ‘I should have come to you then, I should have known…’

  ‘How many times did you do that, Dan?’ Catherine asked him.

  ‘A couple of times a month for over a year. I’d say around thirty in total.’

  ‘And was it always the same person?’ Knight doubted it but wanted to be sure.

  ‘Oh no, loads of different people. Young, though a few were older. I never knew their names. The operation ran like clockwork. I thought Sid was in charge. I never realised the packages that Geoff was asking me to send had anything to do with it.’

  ‘You were still sending them?’

  ‘Yes, at least once a week. I know I must sound like an idiot, but Geoff told me it was stuff he’d sold or he was returning… I never doubted it. Then, we had to get Keeley back quickly.’

  Catherine sat forward. ‘Why?’

  ‘She was ready to come back on the ferry like the others, but some kid was done for drug smuggling the day before and Sid panicked, because we knew how risky what they were doing was and how much all the stuff was worth. Sid phoned Geoff while I was in the car, and it was then I realised who was in charge. Anyway, Geoff ranted and raved for a bit, but he said he’d go and bring her back. I don’t know the details; I didn’t go in the plane. They bribed people, I know that much. Geoff had his own microlight by then and it could get across the Channel, but not much further without fuel. He must have landed somewhere. We took Keeley to the house and left her to… Well, you know. Wait for the stuff to come out. Anyway, I went up to check on her and she was dead.’ His eyes widened as he remembered. ‘It was awful, terrible. She’d seemed fine. We had no idea that there was anything wrong. I couldn’t believe it. Then they made me… Sid made me…’

  ‘W
hat?’ Catherine was blunt.

  Raynor glared at her. ‘Cut her open like a fish, then smash her face in. Happy now?’

  ‘Ecstatic,’ she said, her tone dry. ‘What then?’

  ‘Geoff said we had to leave her by the pool so the other dealers in the area would know we meant business. He wanted her found, but not identified, to give us some breathing space. I thought it was stupid, asking for trouble. He talked about some bloke who used to run the area, said he wanted to make a go of it around here now this Dougie Hughes had gone.’ Neither Catherine nor Knight moved, and Raynor took a gasp of air. ‘Lauren came in and saw Keeley’s body while she was waiting for the drugs to work through. She shouted at us and tried to get out of the house, but we couldn’t let her. Later, we took her to the airfield. We’d already seen that old building and Sid said she’d be all right there until we figured out what to do. Anyway, when you found Keeley, Geoff said we had to get rid of Lauren.’

  Catherine stared at him. ‘Geoff told you to kill her? His own daughter?’

  ‘Stepdaughter. Yes, he did. He knew who she was by then. When they were just bringing the drugs in, he never wanted to know their names. Protecting himself, I suppose. He had to know Keeley’s name and Sid had already asked Lauren if she wanted to do it, because he knew she was short of money. She said no to start with, but she’d had an argument with Mark because he’d spent some of their savings and she was desperate. She didn’t know about Geoff and he didn’t know about Lauren – he paid some French bloke to fly her back after all the trouble with Keeley. He was always paying people to do things and then giving them a load more money to keep quiet.’

  ‘Including you?’ Catherine couldn’t resist.

  Raynor gave a watery smile. ‘No point in denying it now, is there?’

  ‘There are more people involved in this than we thought.’ Knight shook his head.

  ‘So what made you come to us?’

  ‘I was going to do a runner, get out of town, but Sid caught me at the railway station. As we drove through town, I decided that if we went past the police station and I had a chance, I’d jump out. I know I’m in all sorts of trouble and that I’m going to prison, but I thought… Well, that way Lauren would still be alive and it would be over. I know it sounds stupid.’ He hung his head.