DARK HOUSES a gripping detective thriller full of suspense by Helen H. Durrant

properties last night. “I found a blood smear on the wall at Archibald Street where the safe was. Only a little, as if someone had scratched themselves removing the box. But it’s enough. I’ll run a DNA profile and check it against Jenna Proctor. If it isn’t hers, then it has to belong to whoever removed that safe. Apart from that, nothing else yet.”
    “Thanks. I’ll pass it on to the team. Keep us posted.”
    He turned to the team. “He’s possibly made his second mistake. Blood has been found on the wall at Archibald Street,” he said.
    “What are we doing about Pierce Street?” DC Craig Merrick asked. “Do you want someone to camp out there?”
    “No. They’d be noticed. Forensics has agreed to put up surveillance cameras, small ones in the sitting room and on the back wall. They can be accessed remotely over the internet. If our man shows, then we’ll know.”
    “How will they get the keys?” Grace asked.
    “We’ll do that this morning. Speedy and I will go back and speak to Harvey & Sons. You and Craig do some more digging. Go back and speak to Megan Hunter and Frankie Farr. Ask Frankie about the relationship, and where it was going. Megan Hunter didn’t mention the arguments, so ask her about them. Also this young man, Jack Howarth.” He handed Grace the address. “He was Jenna’s boyfriend and would have been at the Rave with her. See what he says. Ask how the evening went. It will do no harm to talk to the people at the Rave again. Keep them on their toes.” He paused for a moment. “Laycock bothers me. Someone told Mavis Weston what happened to Jessie. Was it him? If so, why would he do that?”
    “Do we bring him in?”
    “Not yet.”
    “This lad, Jack Howarth. Does he go to the sixth form?”
    “Yes. You’ll probably find him there. Speak to him and Jenna’s other friends. Find out what they remember about that night.”
    “Have you seen the papers, sir?” Speedy asked.
    “No, and I missed the conference. Did Laycock give you much trouble?”
    “No, he was surprisingly quiet. But look what the bastard printed today.”
    Greco took the tabloid Speedy handed him. They were front page news — the police, that is, not the murders.
    “Trouble is, people will believe it.” Grace shook her head.
    “We could do with a result, something to take the heat off,” Speedy added.
    “We’re doing our best. Once forensics has done their bit, we should be in with a chance. At the moment they’re looking at paint scrapings from the car, what’s left of Jenna’s mobile and now the blood trace. Any one of those could give us a lead.”
    * * *
    Neville wanted to go out. It couldn’t do any harm, surely? The man who gave him the pills went out all the time. No one tried to stop him. He had to do something. The voices were driving him mad and his head was aching. Neville needed to do something to kill the voices. Anyway, Edna was waiting for him at Springbank. She’d give him tea and cake. She’d make him feel special and he liked that. She made him feel as if he mattered.
    Sod it. He’d go. He just wouldn’t tell.
    The noise in town was good. It stopped the voices for a while. It was the same with loud music. The radio on full blast was just perfect. Blotted out everything.
    But there were too many people. Neville didn’t like crowds. He kept his head down and pulled his coat collar up around his ears. He didn’t want anyone to recognise him. He’d have to talk to them then. He’d said that he had to keep his nose clean or there’d be trouble. It was alright for him. He had a life. All Neville had were the voices and the memory of what he’d done.
    “Hey, Neville! Naff Neville!”
    He knew that voice. Bloody hell, now he’d get dragged into something and he wouldn’t like it.
    “Hold up, man, where you off?”
    “Nowhere.” He didn’t stop walking. He didn’t even look up. Neville didn’t like Dan Roper. He’d met him at Springbank. Edna hadn’t liked him either.