Dead To Me

18

RACHEL HADN’T SAID anything to Janet about visiting Rosie Vaughan. She’d only get her knuckles rapped, or maybe worse. Definitely worse if Janet snitched to Gill. They were pretty pally. Rachel got the impression they were mates outside of work.

Perhaps Sean wasn’t the link; she’d thought some more about Sean’s DNA not being a match and about Rosie’s reactions. It was Ryelands that was important. She read the report that Janet had put in after her visit there, turned to the final page, which she hadn’t bothered with before, just a list of extra bits of information. Among them the name of Lisa’s social worker, now retired. Martin Dalbeattie. Rachel felt her scalp tighten. Martin Dalbeattie had been Rosie’s social worker too. Available for background, Janet had noted, contact via Ryelands House. So he hadn’t died or gone off round the world. He could still be in Manchester.

Rachel picked up the phone and rang Ryelands. Marlene Potter answered.

‘DC Bailey, Manchester Metropolitan Police,’ Rachel said briskly, one eye on the door into the corridor in case anyone came in. ‘You spoke to my colleague yesterday.’

‘Janet, yes.’

‘She’s… Janet’s asked me to get contact details for Martin Dalbeattie. You thought he’d be happy to help if we needed him?’

‘Sure, give me a second.’

Rachel waited, her pulse too loud in her ears, tapping her pen on the desk until Marlene came back on. ‘It’s a Stalybridge number…’ and she reeled it off.

As Rachel repeated it, writing it down, Kevin walked in. He came over to her desk where she finished scribbling and ended the call. She turned the paper over.

‘Doing something you shouldn’t?’ he asked. ‘Personal call in work time?’ He was smirking like some big schoolboy.

‘Phone sex,’ Rachel said. ‘Helps pay the bills.’ Enjoying the way he blanched. ‘You ruined the moment.’

He began to laugh a little nervously.

She scooped up the note and her bag. ‘You think I’m kidding?’ she flung over her shoulder as she left. She went into the Ladies, where he wasn’t able to follow. Now she had to decide how to tackle Martin Dalbeattie.

Gill called them into the meeting room. Rachel made sure to be on time. Was Gill quick to forgive misdemeanours? Or one of those bosses who never let it go? Rachel felt disgruntled. It was she who’d cottoned on to the shopping in the first place. Yes they’d have got there eventually – well, soon as they did the CCTV trail – but Rachel had been thinking one step ahead and it had turned out to be a significant issue. Because Sean had stolen the clothes and the phone, and denied doing so for long enough.

‘CSM’s been on,’ Gill said, not looking very happy about it. ‘No bags, no phone. Whatever Sean Broughton did with them, he didn’t stick ’em in the bins as he claims.’

‘Why tell us he had?’ Rachel spoke out. ‘He must know we’d find out.’

Janet said, ‘He was winging it. He took the stuff but didn’t want to tell us where he’d left it, so he makes up a story.’

‘Arse over elbow. He cops for taking the stuff’ – Gill flung out one hand – ‘but tells porkies about disposal…’ she waved the other. ‘Isn’t taking it the bigger deal? Once he’s rolled over on that, why send us on a wild-goose chase?’

‘Because he’s hiding something else,’ Andy said, ‘at his place.’

‘Maybe he’s lying about the shopping because, wherever he dumped it, he dumped the knife, too,’ Rachel said.

‘Had crossed my mind,’ Gill remarked drily.

‘Can’t give us one without the other,’ said Janet.

‘On that…’ Kevin said.

‘Kevin,’ Gill said brightly, ‘you’re awake!’

Rachel smothered a laugh.

Kevin glowered. ‘We’ve extended the house-to-house and we have a sighting of Sean outside the school, heading downhill at three twenty.’

‘Reliable?’

‘Lollipop lady.’

‘I like it.’ Gill beamed. ‘So, perhaps he’s not lying about his time of arrival. Only what he did after.’

‘He’d have time to kill her, nip home and change, taking the shopping and the phone, and get back,’ said Lee.

‘Have we enough for an arrest?’ Janet said.

‘I’d say.’ Gill nodded. ‘I’ll talk to command. What are you getting from friends and associates?’

Mitch took the floor. ‘Pretty much tallies with what we’ve heard so far. Sean is regarded as the type of bloke who’ll get into a scrap, rise to the occasion, if she’s goading him – which is apparently how it went. Lisa was on the shorter fuse. But he’s not known for carrying a knife, or using one. Unlike Lisa’s mother, most people wouldn’t have thought him capable.’

‘We’re all capable,’ Gill said. ‘Have we spoken to the cousin – Benny?’

‘Says he and Sean were in the house that afternoon until three. At that time Benny left: he was helping another cousin lay carpets. His story checks out,’ Mitch told them. ‘Mind you, he might have been coached.’

Gill tilted her head, inviting him to elaborate. ‘He’s a bit slow,’ Mitch said.

‘OK, so Sean is alibied until three, seen outside the school at twenty past. He still had opportunity. And he’s a liar. I think he’s got a shock coming.’ Gill raised her arms like a conductor, hands splayed in invitation: ‘Carry on,’ she dismissed them.

At her desk, the phone was ringing and Rachel grabbed it, rattling off her name, still a flush of pride as she added, ‘MIT.’

What she heard at the other end of the line made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She went straight into Gill, who glared at her. ‘Knock first.’

‘Sorry, boss. Someone’s using Lisa’s phone.’

‘What!’

‘Telecoms just picked it up.’

‘Where?’

‘Piccadilly Gardens. Boss, can I-?’

Gill silenced her with a look.

‘Please?’

‘You’ve no idea what you’ll find. Where’s Janet?’

‘Prepping for Sean.’

‘Go on then, but not on your own.’

Rachel’s heart jumped. She nodded eagerly, her mouth dry.