Taunting the Dead (20 page)

The banging on the door continued.

‘What kept you so long?’ Phil clipped him around the side of his head when he finally let him in. ‘And why are your blinds shut? What have you been up to?’

‘Nothing. Why?’

‘You not heard what’s going on, then?’

‘Of course I’ve heard. Kirstie rang me when the cops told her.’ Lee’s words came tumbling out. He took a deep breath to steady his nerves. ‘I need to see her again. I want to see if she’s okay.’

‘Are you mad? Terry will do his nut.’

‘He will do when he finds out she was here.’

Phil sat down on the settee. ‘You stupid fuck.’

‘It’s no big deal. She was upset. She and Steph had a fight and ended up lamping each other. Kirstie came running to me.’

‘Steph hit her?’ Phil paused, wondering if she had anything to do with this. Could Lee be covering for her? ‘That gives Kirstie motive.’

‘To cave her mother’s head in? I don’t think so.’ Lee glanced furtively at his dad. That was a stupid thing to come out with. He needed to be careful what he was saying or else he’d land himself in it. ‘They reckon she was in a right state,’ he continued.

‘They’ll question Kirstie anyway. She’s family. They always question family.’

‘They can do what they like. Kirstie was with me.’

‘All night?’

‘Yes, all night.’

Phil whistled through his teeth. ‘Fuck, you are in deep.’

Lee banged his fist down on the coffee table. ‘Exactly, man. If I tell the cops she was with me, I’ll get a doing over by Terry. You know he can’t stand me.’

‘But if you took her home, then she wouldn’t have been anywhere near The Potter’s Wheel.’

‘No, but we have to drive past The Potter’s Wheel.’ Lee bit his bottom lip. ‘I need to think about this. I don’t want to land myself in it.’

‘I think it’s a little too late for that, don’t you?’ Phil shook his head. ‘I warned you not to play with fire. Not with Terry’s daughter, I told you.’ He paused. ‘You are telling me the truth?’

Lee gulped and held his eye. ‘Course I am.’

‘You’re not covering something up that happened between Kirstie and her mother?’

‘Course not.’ Lee shook his head. He couldn’t believe how far from the truth his dad was. And at least it gave him time to work out when to tell him what had really happened.

Phil nodded, letting the conversation drop for now. He knew Lee was lying about something. Which made him realise that, since his plans for Shaun Morrison had gone to pot, he couldn’t trust anyone now.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

One of the things Nick and Allie removed from The Gables was a handful of receipts from shops that Steph had visited the day before. Allie found it particularly sad when she’d seen the bags piled up in the master bedroom – Steph hadn’t even unpacked some of the clothes yet. But as the date and time were stamped on three of them, it helped to trace some of her movements from earlier the previous day.

After leaving The Orange Grove, Nick and Allie made their way up to Hanley town centre and joined the throngs of Saturday shoppers. It was always the same at this time of year, mused Allie as she moved aside to let a woman struggling with several large bags get past. People spending like there was no future beyond Boxing Day. She looked around. Everyone had at least one shopping bag. No financial crisis would stop people having a good time at Christmas, even if it meant paying for it all the following year. And this was only the first day that the Advent calendars had been opened. She sighed, realising it would only get worse over the next couple of weeks.

In Stafford Street, they crossed over to Powder and Perfume.

‘These sorts of places give me the creeps,’ Nick muttered as he pushed open the salon door with a hefty hand yet trepidation in his step. ‘What kind of a woman owns a place like this?’

‘It’s a man actually, and a colourful one at that.’

Allie grinned as she saw Nick pull his face at the sound of the tinkling doorbell. How could a man of his calibre, who would think nothing of facing a crazed good-for-nothing scrote with a knife or wrestling down a druggie hell-bent on causing mayhem, be afraid of a few women in a fancy shop?

‘Hello, hello,’ Roberto beamed. ‘Is this to do with the body that’s been found over at The Potters?’

Nick nodded. ‘If I can have a few moments of your time?’

‘You mean I might know her?’ Roberto looked horrified in a mocking kind of way. ‘Please, come on through.’

Nick flashed Allie a weary look as they were escorted through the middle of a group of women in varying stages of beauty treatments and shown through to a tiny office at the back of the salon. Allie smiled again as she watched Nick perch his lanky torso on the end of a lime-green leatherette cube. She sat next to him on a chair covered in blue and white striped material.

Roberto looked as though he would combust if someone didn’t tell him soon who the murder victim was. Allie took the lead as Nick clasped hands together in his lap.

‘It was Steph Ryder.’

‘No!’ Roberto’s hand shot to his mouth. ‘But I only saw her yesterday!’ He leaned closer. ‘Is it true that her head was caved in? You could have knocked me down with a feather when we heard it on the radio, couldn’t you, Clara?’

Clara, a young girl of seventeen with vibrant pink hair, tanned skin and far too much make-up, stood in the doorway nodding.

‘There were no such details given out on the radio.’ Nick raised his eyebrows.

‘I don’t doubt that.’ Roberto shrugged a shoulder slightly. ‘But it was all around Hanley by lunch time. I really had no idea I would know the victim. That’s what you call her, hmm? The victim?’

‘You said you saw her yesterday?’ Allie wouldn’t be drawn into Roberto’s games.

‘Yes, she came over in the morning. She was here two hours, tops. Good job, really. Frankly, I can’t stick her for more than that. Any longer and she makes me want to drag my nails down a chalk board.’

‘Roberto!’ Clara cried out in astonishment.

‘It’s true!’ Roberto flapped a hand in the air before leaning in close to the two officers. ‘You know what happens when someone gets murdered or attacked? Everyone comes out of the woodwork so that they can be on the telly. They all say what a lovely person he or she was, “never did anyone any harm, and wouldn’t hurt a fly, blah, blah, blah”. Load of baloney, if you ask me. So,’ he prodded himself in the chest, ‘I’m going to tell the truth. Steph Ryder was an out and out bitch. She was always moaning about something or other – though never about the price of my services as she didn’t pick up the tab. I –’

‘What do you mean, didn’t pick up the tab?’ Allie interrupted.

‘Her bill was always settled by one of Mr Ryder’s minions. Once a month, on the dot. A good payer, definitely. I mean, her bill could be huge some months to make her look more than the drunken layabout she really was.’

Allie stifled a grin. She loved a straight talker and Roberto definitely wasn’t one to mince his words.

‘What did you think of her?’ Nick asked Clara as she busied herself sweeping the floor outside, but making sure she was in earshot of everything.

‘I thought she was okay,’ she said. ‘But sometimes she’d be in a right mood. You never knew what to expect with her from one visit to the next.’

‘Exactly!’ Roberto chimed in, eager to get into the limelight again. ‘She was a desperate housewife, if you can have one of those in Stoke-on-Trent. Mind, I think they’re all a bit desperate, if you ask me.’ He laughed at his attempt at a joke. No one else followed suit.

‘Look,’ he sighed, before wiping away his fringe with a dramatic gesture. ‘She was a nightmare – end of. But good for business and I’m really going to miss her for that. She used to send lots of people my way. I suppose I should give her credit where it’s due.’

‘So you didn’t notice anything unusual about this visit?’ asked Nick. He stretched out his legs, struggling to stay upright on the cube.

‘No,’ Roberto replied. ‘She wasn’t any more hyper than usual.’

‘Did she talk about where she was going later?’

‘Of course she did!’ Roberto shook his head in disgust. ‘This is a beauty salon. We get to know everyone’s business. She said she was going to do a bit of shopping – wanted shoes to go with some new top she’d not yet worn – and then she was going to call in to see her friend, Carole, from The Orange Grove. You know the one, off Piccadilly?’

Allie nodded as he continued.

‘Then she said she was off around town before going to see some Elvis tribute band at The Potter’s Wheel on Leek New Road.’

‘And she never mentioned any more than the two of them meeting up?’

‘No.’

‘Did she mention anything about Mr Ryder?’

‘She said he was out of town last night. That sounds a bit too convenient for me, though. What do you think?’ He leaned forward again in anticipation. But he was disappointed when Nick stood up and Allie followed suit.

‘If there’s anything you think of after we’ve gone,’ she handed him a contact card, ‘please call me.’

‘Yeah, yeah.’ Roberto took it from her and then whispered. ‘Go on, then. Now I’ve told you what I know, spill. What was she killed with? Was it brutal? Did her hair look good in the photos? Oh, my. I hope her nails weren’t damaged in the struggle.’

Allie could hear him gossiping about it before they’d closed the door on Powder and Perfume.

‘He should have been a copper,’ Nick remarked, clearly still surprised at Roberto’s straightforward mannerisms. ‘He’d have you hung, drawn and quartered in court for remembering all of that.’

‘Bet he’d look great in the uniform too,’ Allie smirked.

Both Nick and Allie were thankful that Steph Ryder hadn’t been an all-weather shopper as they split up at the entrance to the Intu Potteries shopping centre for their calls. Usually, she’d take one of the team with her to gather details of the victim’s last whereabouts but because of Terry Ryder’s importance, Nick wanted to get into the investigation first-hand. A mere five minutes from their offices at the city’s main police station, they decided to walk. Allie headed up to the top floor to her favourite shop, Extravagance.

‘Allie, how lovely to see you,’ Mary Francis said, greeting her with a warm hug and a kiss on each cheek. ‘How did the big event go the other evening? Please tell me that you felt like a million dollars.’

‘I did, Mary, thanks,’ Allie told her truthfully. She’d felt lovely at the beginning of the evening. Not so much by the end of it.

‘So what are you after today? I’ve had a beautiful blue dress in that would suit you down to the –’

Allie placed a hand on the woman’s arm. She told her why she was there and watched her reel as she took in the news.

‘What was she like yesterday, Mary?’ Allie asked after a moment.

‘She was her usual charming self,’ Mary said, with a slight hint of sarcasm. She fetched an order book from behind the counter, ran a finger along the page, stopped halfway down and tapped it twice before looking up again. ‘Here it is. She put an order in for a new dress for the Christmas Ball. She and Terry – that’s her husband – organise one every year.’ Mary sighed. ‘I suppose she won’t need that any longer.’ With one fluid move, she drew a line through the name and closed the book with a bang. ‘Shame.’

‘And she didn’t seem upset about anything?’ Allie asked. ‘Worried? Anxious? Did she say anything in conversation to you?’

‘Huh, are you kidding? I don’t think Steph Ryder would be worried about anything more than a nail breaking. I’m sure she has – had no heart.’

Allie glanced at her, a little shocked to hear Mary badmouthing anyone.

Mary shook her head. ‘I’m sorry but I doubt whether anyone liked her. She was an impossible woman to please. Always moaning about something or other. Hardly ever gave a tip and always asked for a huge discount.’

Hmm, Allie thought. This was getting a little predictable now. Steph Ryder didn’t seem to be liked very much anywhere they went. Still, that didn’t explain such a brutal attack. She wound up the interview.

‘Thanks, Mary.’ Allie handed her a contact card before leaving. ‘You know where to find me, if you can think of anything else.’

Allie went back to the entrance of the shopping centre to find Nick waiting outside Starbucks
with two polystyrene cups.

‘I didn’t get much,’ he said, handing one to her. ‘You?’

‘Nothing that we didn’t already know. Steph Ryder didn’t have many friends.’ She lifted the lid to find coffee, blew on the liquid before taking the tiniest of sips.

‘I hail the day when we can nail Terry Ryder but the bastard always seems so squeaky clean.’ Nick moved out of the way before he was run over by a woman with a double buggy. ‘And Phil Kennedy too, after getting rid of his brother.’

Phil Kennedy was one of three brothers and a younger sister. The youngest brother, Jay, had never got into trouble but the eldest, Steve, had been locked up five years ago. He’d killed a man over the right to sit on a bar stool in The Burton Stores and had gone down for fifteen years on a murder charge. Steve and the guy who was killed, Derrick Stanton, had been feuding for years.

It had been good for the police to get rid of the two men but there were always others waiting to take their place. While he was inside, they reckoned that Phil Kennedy was supposed to be looking after his patch, as well as Derrick Stanton’s, but it seemed Terry Ryder had muscled in and made what was theirs into his. None of the force were looking forward to the day when Steve Kennedy was released and wreaked his revenge. Neither too, they surmised, would Phil be. Nor Terry Ryder, come to think of it.

‘Steve Kennedy’s got too long to go inside before he can make a difference outside, surely?’ Allie questioned Nick.

‘Not necessarily.’ Nick drained his coffee, scrunched up the cup and dropped it into a nearby bin. ‘Where are you heading next?’

‘Stacey’s Shoes in the market and La Senza.’

He groaned. ‘Can’t do any more of the girlie stuff. Meet you back at the station, yeah? Then we’ll pull together what we have so far.’

Allie nodded. She finished her drink as she watched him disappear into the crowds outside and allowed herself a few minutes to think. She liked this part of the investigation most, where the clues unravelled and anything was possible. Later, after the witnesses had been interviewed and they’d drawn up new leads and the phones went quiet due to the hour – that was when it would hit her that, yet again, she was dealing with another senseless death.