Bad Moon Rising (#1 - D.I. Paolo Storey Crime Series) (29 page)

“You seem fairly certain that Sean had made contact with Matthew Roberts. Why is that?”

Lizzie laughed. “Because I heard them, didn’t I? Sean called the Roberts bloke using my phone. He was always running out of credit and I knew he’d been using mine up, even though he said he hadn’t. I came into the kitchen that last night and Sean was bloody using my phone. I went off on one, didn’t I. Told him his bloody fortune. I’d had at least a fiver’s worth of credit in the morning and there was sod all left when I looked after he’d gone.”

Paolo tried to make sense of what Lizzie was saying, his mind numb. “Are you telling me that you heard Sean talking to Matthew?”

Lizzie nodded.

“And he used your phone to make the call?”

She nodded again.

“Can you please tell us exactly what you heard? Word for word if you can.”

“That’s easy,” Lizzie said. “I came in, and Sean was looking a bit shifty. That’s when I realised he was using my phone. Anyway, he said, ‘okay I’ll meet you at the station.’ Then he laughed and said, ‘I won’t have any trouble recognising you.’ Then, when I yelled at him about stealing my credit, he tried to turn me up sweet by saying that he’d be able to buy me a dozen pay as you go phones if I wanted them because he was off to meet his rich brother to shake him down.”

“Did he say what he intended to shake him down over?” Paolo asked.

“Not exactly,” Lizzie said. “It was something to do with their mother being a prostitute, but Sean always had these grand schemes to get rich. You know, a bit like Delboy on
Only Fools and Horses
. Sean was always going to be rich next year. He’d do anything to earn money apart from actually go to work.”

“Do you still have the same mobile number as you did when Sean left?”

She nodded. “Yeah, I’ve changed the phone a couple of times, but kept the number. Why?”

“We’d like to check the phone records to see which numbers were called on the night you last saw Sean. If you still have his number, we’d also like to check Sean’s phone records. Are you okay with that?” Paolo said.

“Will it help Sean?”

Paolo nodded. “It might. I can’t make any promises, but it might.”

“Okay,” she said and gave Paolo both numbers. “But I’ve rung him loads of times and the daft sod’s either been ignoring me or he’s changed his number since he left. Look, let’s get on to the real reason I’ve come down here. It’s not to play silly buggers with you lot; it’s to prove it wasn’t Sean what murdered them women.”

Paolo smiled. Whatever Sean might have done to Lizzie, she still seemed to have faith in his innocence.

“And you think you can prove it?” he asked.

“I know I can,” Lizzie said with a triumphant note in her voice. “I watch all the crime shows,
CSI
and suchlike. I know how DNA works.”

Paolo sighed. “Lizzie, those shows are far from the way things are really done. To test for Sean’s DNA we would need a sample that we could prove came from him and there wasn’t anything in the bag of his possessions you gave to the Liverpool police.”

“Maybe not,” she said, “but that don’t mean I don’t have summat you could test. You seem like a decent bloke. If I give you stuff I know Sean licked, will you promise you’ll use it to clear the silly bastard’s name?”

Paolo leaned forward. “Lizzie, I can’t promise you that. All I can promise is that if Sean’s DNA doesn’t match the killer’s then I’ll make sure Sean is cleared. Will that do?”

She put her head on one side, clearly trying to decide if Paolo could be trusted. Suddenly she nodded and picked up the massive handbag she’d been carrying on her shoulder when they’d met at the station. She rummaged inside and extracted a number of envelopes, of the type that usually held greeting cards, which she put on the desk.

“There you go,” she said. “You’re bound to get summat from at least one of those. He was a romantic bugger when he remembered to be. There’s cards there for me birthdays and a couple of years he actually remembered Valentine’s Day, so I chucked them in as well. The writing’s really crap. He always said that was because he was left-handed and made to use his right hand when he was a kid. I’ve brought all the ones he’d licked to seal the envelope. I told you, I’ve watched
CSI
, and I bet you can get DNA from at least half a dozen of those.”

Paolo glanced over to Dave. “Log these in and get them over to forensics, smartish. When you’ve done that, get the phone companies to give us their records on these two numbers.”

Lizzie stood up. “Yeah, and don’t let them screw up the tests when they do the envelopes. I’ve seen it done on shows where they mess up the case because someone does summat stupid. You look daft enough to make the odd mistake.” She turned back to Paolo. “I’m off back to Liverpool. If you find Sean tell him... tell him... I dunno, tell him I said hello would you?”

Paolo smiled and got up. “He’s a lucky man, Lizzie. Not many would go the extra mile to help someone as you have. Would you like a lift back to the station?”

“Nah, it’s no bother to walk. The next train’s not due for hours yet and I want to see a bit of the place before I go home.”

Paolo walked with her to the door. He stopped and held out his hand. “It’s been a pleasure to meet you, Lizzie.”

She shook his hand. “Yeah, likewise. You’re not a bad sort for a copper.”

He watched her walk through the main office and then went back into his own. Dave was gathering the cards into an evidence bag, but looked up as Paolo went past.

“Bloody hell, sir, she could talk.”

“She sure could, Dave, and she’s opened up a whole new avenue for us. What if Sean really had made contact with Matthew Roberts? That would mean Roberts already knew about his sibling when we spoke to him, but lied about it. Now why would he do that?”

“I suppose he might be covering up for his brother. You know, just found out about his family and wants to help, although being a solicitor hiding someone from the police doesn’t really fit. Maybe we should just ask him, sir.”

Paolo nodded. “We could, but I want proof before I approach him again. If his number appears on Sean Andrews’ phone records, or the call that Andrews claimed was to Matthew Roberts is on Lizzie’s, then we’ll have good reason to question Roberts again. Until then, you can get to work with what Ms Cooper brought to us.” He smiled. “I’m going to see Willows. I’m hoping I can convince him that we have good cause to check Matthew Roberts’ phone records, but I’m not counting on it.”

C
HAPTER 
T
WENTY-
T
HREE

Paolo glared at the calendar. Another bloody week gone past and they were still no nearer to finding Sean Andrews. He grabbed the phone to call Barbara. The DNA results from the envelope samples were taking forever to come through, even though they’d been fast-tracked. He pressed the speed dial number for her and waited.

“You have reached the number for...”

Paolo snapped the phone shut. Where the bloody hell was she?

He wished he could go outside and have a cigarette. Even though the cravings were kept in check by the patches, he still found times like this, when he was hanging around waiting for news, really difficult. It was more a case of keeping his hands busy than actually wanting to smoke. His phone rang and he jumped. Snatching it up, he was intrigued by the display. The number wasn’t one that was instantly familiar.

“Storey.”

“Paolo?” asked a man’s voice he vaguely recognised.

“Yes, who is this?”

“Paolo, it’s Greg.”

“Greg? Katy tells me you haven’t been in school for weeks. Where are you?”

There was a brief silence before Father Gregory replied. “I’ve been sent away on a rehab retreat, Paolo. Drugs and drink, just like the old days. No, sorry, that’s a lie. They say to get better I have to tell the truth, especially to someone I’m asking for help. The truth is I never stopped with the alcohol, Paolo, but I did lay off the drugs for years. But then a while back... well, I found out something that I couldn’t handle without something to take the edge off.”

“In confession?”

Greg’s silence told Paolo all he needed to know. He’d never thought about it before, but priests heard the worst of humanity in confession and had to keep it to themselves.

“Greg, why are you telling me about your rehab?”

“Because I need a friend, someone I can trust. Please would you come to visit me?”

Paolo continued the conversation feeling as though he’d stepped into a twilight world. No wonder Katy had found Greg’s actions suspicious when he’d surprised her with her friend; it seemed he’d been using the old changing rooms to stash his drugs and wanted to get rid of the girls so that he could get his fix. Paolo put the phone down and stared at the piece of paper where he’d written the name and address of the rehab centre. He shook his head. He and Greg had never been friends, even back during their schooldays, but it seemed Greg needed a completely new start. Paolo wondered if he’d be allowed to stay in the priesthood once he was out of rehab. Funnily enough, he hoped that would be the case. Whatever Paolo might think of religion, he thought Greg most probably needed the prop.

The phone rang again and this time Barbara’s name showed on the LCD. He snatched it up.

“Hi, what have you got for me?”

“Paolo, you’re not going to like this. They’ve lost the DNA results.”

“What?” he thundered. “Who has? Please tell me this is a joke, Barbara.”

“Sorry, Paolo. No joke. I’ve just been on the phone chasing for answers. I’ve been promised the results haven’t been lost completely, but no one knows where they are. It’s a mess.”

Paolo swore under his breath, but realised shouting at Barbara was both unfair and counter-productive. She wanted the results as much as he did.

“I take it you’ve told them to drop everything until they’ve found the missing file?”

“I have,” she answered. “They will be sending a copy directly to your office as soon as they’re available again.”

He sighed. This was turning into a weird day.

“Paolo, you still there?”

“Yep.”

“I’m going to the Nag today. Want to join me for lunch? My treat.”

“Is this a way of getting me to put more pressure on Larry?”

Her silence told him he’d hit the spot.

“Barbara, I’ve done all I can there. Short of standing over your friend and forcing her to make a complaint, there is nothing more I can do.”

“That’s easy for you to say, she isn’t your friend.”

“That’s bloody unfair and you know it.”

“Is it?” she shot back. “I’ve never asked you for a favour, Paolo, other than to lean on Larry a bit. If that’s too much to ask of a friend, then maybe we aren’t friends.”

“No, Barbara, that’s not the case. What you want me to do is storm in there like some caped crusader and save
your
friend from her husband. The only person who can do that is Sharon herself. I’ve leaned on Larry, as you put it. Now it’s up to Sharon to do her bit and either leave or find a way of dealing with him. I can’t do any more. I wish I could, but it’s a domestic situation.”

Paolo stopped speaking as he realised the line had gone dead. Damn Barbara to hell and back. She’d left him feeling as guilty as sin for not saving Sharon. He’d done all he could with Larry. Barbara had worked with enough marital abuse victims to know that unless Sharon chose to leave no one could really help her. The police couldn’t go storming into someone’s home unless they were called in or the neighbours complained.

***

Barbara sat opposite Leanna in the pub. At least she’d been able to rely on one of her friends to turn up when needed. After she’d slammed the phone down on Paolo, she’d called Leanna. Maybe, if Larry saw that Sharon had friends who cared he’d be less likely to let fly with his fists whenever he felt like it.

On the other hand, from the whispered words she’d had with Sharon when she’d arrived, it was possible that Paolo’s talk with Larry might have done some good after all.

Larry cleared their plates from the table. He seemed to be unusually subdued and hadn’t passed any comments about their looks or their love lives. Something Barbara hadn’t thought he was capable of keeping out of his normal conversation. She watched as he headed towards the kitchen with the dirty tableware and then leaned across the table and lowered her voice.

“From what Sharon said while Larry was off changing the barrels, he’s been as good as gold recently.”

“Let’s hope he’s more scared of what Paolo might have threatened him with than you’d thought, but you know as well as I do, Barbara, it’s not likely to last.”

Barbara nodded. “That’s why I wanted Paolo to come here. To give Larry a little reminder that he’s being watched.”

She stopped speaking and pointed at the television. Leanna glanced up at the screen. The newscasters were reading out yet another appeal for anyone knowing the whereabouts of Sean Andrews to please come forward. Pictures of him laughing with friends, just days before he went on the run, showed a good-looking dark-haired man with an uncanny resemblance to Matthew Roberts.