‘And the cause of death?’
‘So far it looks exactly like what it says on the tin: a typical heroin overdose. Either he underestimated the power of the stuff he took, or someone gave him a high enough concentration to kill him. A hot shot. We might find out more after Dr Galway’s done the post-mortem. I’ve also checked with the drugs squad, and there’s been a couple of heroin overdose cases recently around the county. It seems there’s some unusually powerful stuff about.’
‘So it could have been an accident? Just his bad luck, then?’
‘Seems that way. Of course, somebody could have slipped him a fatal dose. He could even have done it himself. But why? From all I could gather, he seemed a harmless, pathetic old sod.’
‘Better dig into his background a bit deeper. A heroin user makes all kinds of dodgy connections, from fellow addicts to dealers and even drug cartels. What about forensics?’
‘CSIs haven’t had a chance to get to it yet. They’re still on the East Side Estate. This is low priority in comparison. I found a mobile number on a slip of paper in his wallet. Gerry tried to run it down this morning, but no luck. It’s pay-as-you-go and dead as a dodo.’
‘Can we get a list of calls to and from the number?’
‘I wouldn’t hold your breath.’
‘He was found in one of the houses on Hollyfield Lane, right? On the old estate marked for demolition and redevelopment.’
‘Yes. Number twenty-six. Rehousing everyone is proving a slow process, especially if it’s to be affordable. Stokes was on his pension, for example. Then there’s planning, environmental assessments and the rest of the red tape. It seems Stokes was a legitimate tenant, by the way, and not a squatter.’
‘If Stokes was on a pension, where did he get the money to feed his heroin habit? You said he hadn’t resorted to crime.’
‘Dunno,’ said Annie, ‘but it might be worth following up.’
‘You think so?’
‘No need to be sarky. There is one other interesting point.’
‘Yes?’
‘The owner of the property.’
‘Blaydon?’
‘No. The Kerrigan brothers. On paper, at any rate.’
‘Tommy and Timmy? Are they, indeed? So they’ve branched out from nightclubs and amusement arcades into rental properties.’
Annie smiled. ‘I thought you’d find that interesting. They rented it out at a fairly exorbitant rate, too. However, with the new project going ahead, they’ll stand to make quite a bundle, especially if they’re in cahoots with Blaydon. And Hollyfield abuts Elmet Hill, which is already quite posh and “desirable”. There’s only that little strip of parkland and Cardigan Drive separating them. As you know, Elmet Hill isn’t so far from The Heights, either. Anyway, according to Gerry, there’s been a bit of friction between some of the residents up the hill and the people living on Hollyfield. Especially arguments over the park that separates the two. The hill residents sort of see it as their own property. They’ve even got a Neighbourhood Watch, night patrols and everything. They argued that crime was on the increase. I checked, and it’s true. There’s been a couple of break-ins recently, and a sexual assault.’
‘Hardly surprising,’ said Banks, ‘the way we’ve had to cut back on coppers on the beat and patrol cars. I remember that sexual assault. Girl called Lisa Bartlett, right?’
‘That’s right. Month ago. Gerry investigated it. Sixteen years old. She was on her way home from a dance at the comprehensive. She walked most of the way along Cardigan Drive with a couple of friends, but they peeled off just before The Oak, at the corner there, and she was left to walk the last few yards alone.’
‘Remind me. Where exactly was she attacked?’
‘She was taking a shortcut through the pub car park and a little stretch of waste ground beyond, leading to Elmet Court, when someone jumped her from behind.’
‘I remember now. She didn’t see her attacker, did she?’
‘No. Couldn’t give Gerry any sort of description. The poor kid was terrified.’
‘She wasn’t raped, though, if I remember right.’
‘Nope. That’s some consolation. He ripped her blouse, fondled her breasts and grabbed her between the legs before she thinks he must have heard someone coming and ran off.’
‘Was anyone coming?’
‘No idea. It’s possible. She was in the car park behind The Oak, and anyone drinking there from Elmet Hill would probably take the same shortcut on their way home, too. But Lisa didn’t see anyone, and no witnesses came forward. She just took her opportunity to break free and run off. She was only about a hundred yards away from her parents’ place. Gerry handled it, but I don’t think she’s got anywhere yet. The case is still open.’
‘I can’t say I blame the locals for setting up their own security. It might be worth chatting with whoever’s in charge. Anything new on Stokes’s time of death?’
‘Nothing concrete. That’ll have to wait until the post-mortem. But Doc Burns said it probably happened sometime Sunday, maybe late afternoon, early evening. He couldn’t be any more specific than that.’
‘Even so,’ said Banks. ‘We know that the Kerrigans had dinner with Connor Clive Blaydon in Eastvale at Le Coq d’Or on Sunday evening, starting at half past seven.’
‘It’s a bit of a stretch, though, isn’t it, to connect the two events in any way?’
‘Maybe. But DI MacDonald says they’ve got their eye on Blaydon for a number of possible criminal enterprises, including involvement in prostitution and drugs. And we know that Tommy and Timmy are up to their necks in anything criminal that happens in the area, and even if they’re not, they make sure they get their cut. Don’t you think it’s a bit suspicious that the three of them were dining together when this Howard Stokes died in one of the Kerrigans’ properties in an area where Blaydon’s planning a new development?’
‘Well,’ said Annie, ‘when you put it like that, I suppose it is. And let’s not forget, we also think the young lad we found was killed on Sunday evening, too. I’m not saying he’s connected with Blaydon or anything, but you said your DI MacDonald did bring up the possibility. And as I said earlier, maybe they were bringing the body up with them to dump it on the East Side Estate. Somewhere you might expect to find a victim of a drug war. When you add it all up, it’s one hell of a coincidence. It’s just a pity no one actually saw the car.’
‘Blaydon, the Kerrigans, a dead junkie and a murdered Middle Eastern youth, all in the same night in the same small town? I don’t think that can be much of a coincidence.’
‘So what next?’
‘We keep pushing. When the CSIs finally get around to it, I’d like you to ask them and technical support to make comparisons between the evidence found at Stokes’s house with the boy’s body. Fingerprints, DNA, fibres, whatever they’ve got. Just in case. If we’re talking county lines, maybe number twenty-six Hollyfield Lane was the trap house, and maybe the boy was the runner. You never know. But first I think I should pay a visit to Le Coq d’Or and see what Marcel has to tell us about Sunday night.’
Annie looked at her watch. ‘If I were you, I’d time it for dinner,’ she said. ‘Who knows, you might get a free bowl of snails.’
The following lunchtime Paul Danvers and Deborah Fletcher turned up at Zelda’s hotel. She was about to go shopping, but she couldn’t put them off. They insisted on coming up to her room to ask her ‘just a few more questions’. She told them the maid was due any moment, and she would meet them in the cafe off the lobby. She didn’t want the police poking around in her room, even though she had nothing to hide. They agreed, and she grabbed her shoulder bag and set off for the lifts.