Down to Sleep

by Clare Revell

  As they reached the body, Arend Van Houten glanced up. “I’m almost done.”

  Zander jerked his head. “We need to check a few things before you move her.”

  “Feel free. I’ll be ten or fifteen minutes yet.”

  Isabel moved to the left of the body. “With the last two, the ID was found where exactly?”

  “Right where you’re standing,” Zander told her. “The painting was to the right. But she’s been here a while, so it’s possible someone picked it up.”

  “And didn’t notice her? I doubt it.”

  “Good point.” Zander moved towards the bushes on the left, pulling on a pair of latex gloves. “I don’t understand why no one spotted her. It’s not as if it’s the middle of winter and no one uses the park. She’s just off one of the main entrances.” He parted some of the undergrowth.

  “So where was the ID found before?” Isabel asked.

  He glanced up. “About a foot to the left of where you’re standing now. And the painting to the right. Both in plain sight, but…” He broke off, swallowing hard as his gaze fell on the painting of the third commandment.

  It was every bit as nasty as the photograph of it in the brochure. That kid who painted it must be sick or need counselling or something.

  Zander tugged a large bag from his pocket and slid the painting inside. He glanced over at his partner on her hands and knees at the base of a tree. “Any joy over there?”

  “It’s well hidden.” Isabel grunted and reached further into the undergrowth. “But I found it.” She pulled out the purse. “No handbag this time, just this.” She unzipped it. “Couple of pound coins, a few twenty pence pieces, a folded-up fiver.” Rummaging through the cards she glanced up. “The bank card says Ashlyn Orkney, and the driver’s licence confirms it and gives us the address. That’s one good thing about the photo ID on the all the licences.”

  “Only good thing,” Zander complained. “Have to pay to renew the wretched thing every ten years now.” He stood and moved over to her, holding out a hand. “Come on.”

  Isabel reached back into the grass. “There’s something else…Owww!”

  “You OK?”

  She pulled her hand back, blood oozing from her finger. She raised her hand to her mouth. “Cut myself. There’s something sharp down here.”

  “Don’t.” Zander grasped her hand and glanced over at the coroner. “Arend. Need you over here ASAP.”

  “It’s fine.” Isabel tried to tug herself free.

  The professor joined them. “What’s up?”

  “Isabel cut herself on something.” Zander held her hand out so Arend could check it.

  She glared at the two men. “I said it’s fine. Lot of fuss over nothing.”

  “Let me look.” Arend gently took her hand.

  “See, nothing to look at. It’s a pinprick.”

  “It’s bleeding, and you could have cut it on anything.” Arend looked up at Zander, his gaze confirming Zander’s worst thoughts. “Get her to the hospital now.”

  Zander turned back to the undergrowth. Pulling up the torch app on his phone, he shone it where Isabel had been searching. It didn’t take long to find it. “Here.” He reached in and pulled out the syringe with a needle attached.

  A noticeable shudder ran through his partner, and the colour drained from her face.

  Zander slid the syringe into a bag and sealed it. “Taking this with us. Come on. Or do I need to call the Guv and get him to make it an order?”

  Isabel shook her head. “No. I’m coming.”

  ~*~

  Isabel sat on the bed as the doctor and nurse pushed past the curtains, leaving her alone. Once Zander had shown his ID and the syringe at reception, they’d been fast-tracked through to cubicles and seen almost immediately. He stood guard on the other side of the curtain whilst the doctor examined her.

  “Are you decent?” Zander’s voice came from the other side of the curtain.

  Isabel swung her legs off the side of the bed. “Yeah, I always was. Told you that you didn’t have to wait outside. Come on in.”

  He smiled. “What’s the verdict?”

  She shrugged. “I can go in a bit. They are doing blood tests, want me to have…” She broke off as his phone rang.

  “Sorry.” Zander pulled it out. “Ellery…Oh, hi, Guv.” He rolled his eyes at Isabel. “Definitely a third victim. Same MO. We’ll be back as soon as we’re done here and have visited the next of kin.”

  The nurse came returned and set a paper dish on the bed next to her.

  Isabel grimaced. “How many vials?” she asked, not liking the look of the pile in the dish. “Is now a good time to mention I hate needles?”

  “One needle, but seven vials.”

  “Headley General ED,” Zander said into the phone. “Isabel got stuck with a needle as she retrieved the ID.” He paused. “She’s cranky, but other than that seems all right. OK is a relative term.”

  Isabel winced as the needle sank into her inner elbow. “I heard that.”

  Zander held out the phone. “He wants to talk to you.”

  Taking the phone with her free hand, Isabel plastered on a fake smile. OK, he couldn’t see her, but even so. “Hi, Guv.”

  “What happened?” Her boss cut to the chase, forgoing small talk.

  “I got stuck with a needle while searching for the ID in the bushes. I’m fine. They are doing blood tests for various things, which is standard, apparently. I should get the results today, tomorrow or a couple weeks, depending.”

  “What tests?”

  Isabel held Zander’s gaze. “Usual set they do on every episode of Casualty and TV medical show there is. So, U and E’s, FBC’s. LFT’s. Also, Hep B, Hep C, HIV. They are giving me some vaccines as standard.”

  “HIV?” Concern filled DI Holmes voice.

  “It’s routine. As they don’t know if the needle was from someone with HIV, I don’t need the vaccine for that unless I’ve definitely come into contact.”

  “Have they offered counselling?”

  “Yes, but—”

  He cut her off. “You’ll do it,” he growled. “And that’s an order.”

  The nurse dropped the last vial into the dish.

  “I have to go, boss.” Isabel gave the handset back to Zander. “Is that the lot?”

  The nurse taped cotton wool to Isabel’s elbow. “Just the vaccines now.”

  The doctor came back in. “The bloods will need repeating in three months’ time. Here’s an appointment for that and another for the counselling.”

  Isabel took the card. “Thank you.” She held out her arm for the shot.

  Zander slipped the phone into his pocket. “The Guv’s happy. Not. The Chief Super is in the building wanting answers, and we’re not there.”

  “He can wait. When can I leave?”

  “Soon as I’ve done this,” the nurse told her. “The shot needs repeating three times. You’ll get appointments through the post for that.”

  “Great.”

  Zander rolled his eyes. “Just be grateful it’s not rabies. You don’t want to know where that one goes.”

  Isabel jumped down as the nurse finished. “Thank you.”

  “Welcome. Stay safe out there.”

  Isabel headed to the exit with Zander. “So, we go see the next of kin now?”

  Zander glanced at her. “Maybe you should go home and rest.”

  She narrowed her eyes, irritated. “I’ve wasted enough time this morning. The doctor said I could go. He didn’t say go home. I want this bloke caught as much as you do, and I can’t do that from my bed. Besides, I’m fine.”

  Zander smirked and fired off a mock salute. “Yes, boss.”

  “And don’t you forget it.” She walked to the car park with him. “When are your sergeant’s exams?”

  “Next week, I think.”

  She chuckled. “You think? You don’t know?”

  “What day is it?” He unlocked the car.

  Isabel paused. “D
on’t you know what day it is? It’s Thursday. That’s the day after Wednesday and before Friday.”

  “A week tomorrow. I need to revise over the weekend. Why?”

  “I booked a table tennis session tonight. But if you’re studying or out with Rosa or busy then I can cancel.”

  He grinned at her over the top of the car. “I’m free.”

  She laughed. “Just free this evening or free and easy in general?” She knew the term meant something different across the pond, but fortunately both Zander and she were Christians, and that kind of suggestion was not only unprofessional but totally inappropriate. She found it amazing that simple phrases could have such vastly different meanings.

  He rolled his eyes again obviously getting the slang term meaning casual and informal as far as playing sport after work went. “Both,” he replied. “What about you?”

  “Me? I’m never free. I’m the complete opposite. I’m expensive, I’ll have you know. Very, very expensive.” She opened the car door and climbed inside, trying not to laugh. “Especially when it comes to restaurants.”

  “Not priceless?” he asked, winking at her. “Because your jokes certainly are.”

  “Maybe tomorrow. I’ll work on it.”

  Zander started the engine. “Where are we going?”

  Isabel pulled out her notebook. “Driver’s licence said Ashlyn Oakley. Twenty-seven Steggles Drive. So there.” She paused. “That’s go there as in go to Steggles Drive, not so there. Wasn’t being rude. Honest.”

  He sighed. “Nothing changes, does it? Still as rude as ever and trying to apologise for it.”

  Whatever had been bothering him, seemed to have vanished in his concern for her welfare. She really could get used to that. “Just drive.”

  ~*~

  Zander sat next to Isabel on the couch in the front room. Mrs. Oakley had finally stopped sobbing and was now sniffing and shredding tissues. He held out the mug of tea he’d made, hoping it wasn’t cold by now.

  “Thank you.” Mrs. Oakley took it, hands shaking so hard a few drops spilled onto the carpet. “Sorry.”

  “It’s OK.” Isabel hastily assured her.

  Hmm, maybe having a female partner was a good thing after all. Zander never knew what to say to a crying female, despite being the only boy out of the five of them. His sisters had used tears to get their own way, and now he just found it irritating. He’d managed during notifications, but usually let Tony handle them in the past. On the other hand, he worried more about Isabel than any of his previous partners. His protective streak had come out full force, and he wasn’t sure he liked it.

  “When did you last see Ashlyn?” Isabel asked.

  “Monday morning, before she left for work. She’s a nanny. She lives in during the week and is home at weekends.”

  Isabel took notes. “Where does she work?”

  “For the Winters. Three cute boys.” Mrs. Oakley sniffed. “They live over on the Deerwood Estate. I have the number somewhere.”

  “Please. We’ll need to talk to them as well.” Isabel gave Zander a look.

  His mind made leaps he didn’t like. The Deerwood Estate was where Iona Kevane lived.

  “Ashlyn is such a good girl. She’s never been in any trouble. She attends Headley Baptist Church—she was baptised a couple of weeks ago.”

  “I remember now,” Zander said. He’d recognised the girl when they’d reached the crime scene but couldn’t put a name to her face. So many people attended his church. The sad thing was some of them were just faces in a crowd. “She was going to work as a missionary in September.”

  Her mother nodded.

  “Did she ever go to Keswick or New Wine?” Isabel asked.

  “She does New Wine every year. She was going this year. She hasn’t been to Keswick in two or three years.”

  “Which week was she going to New Wine?” Zander knew what answer was coming.

  “The second.”

  His stomach plummeted to the soles of his work shoes. The commandment ran though his mind. Ashlyn must have broken the third, but blasphemy didn’t seem to fit what she’d said in church, or what her mother was saying. “Was Ashlyn on social media at all?”

  “Yes. Her computer is in her room and she uses the Internet on her phone all the time. She forgot to take the laptop with her this week. Nothing is password protected as she’s the only one who uses it.”

  “Does she have any brothers or sisters?”

  “A brother in Oxford. I need to call him.”

  “May we take a look at her room?” Isabel asked.

  Mrs. Oakley nodded. “Straight up the stairs. It’s the first room on the left.”

  Upstairs, Zander pulled on a pair of latex gloves. He strode to the desk and opened the laptop. It booted up immediately. Logging onto the Internet, he checked her social media page. “OK, she posts several times a day by the looks of it.” He scrolled slowly. “Every day for weeks, but Wednesday and today there’s nothing. The last post is ten o’clock Tuesday evening. ‘A mug of hot chocolate and a book.’”

  “What else does it say?”

  “Seems someone asked her out…” He broke off. “And there we have it.”

  “Have what?”

  “The blasphemy. A whole load of O-M-G’s.”

  Isabel glanced up from the drawer she was searching. “Maybe she didn’t realise what it really means. I had some USA ‘friends’ who routinely used that phrase and claimed to be Christians. They thought it meant Oh My Gosh, but after I explained its original meaning was taking the Lord’s name in vain, they stopped using it. At least in texts to me.”

  “But nowadays, everyone knows what that phrase means and that it’s blasphemous. Or maybe it’s just the British churchgoers who don’t use it routinely.” Zander closed the laptop and bagged it. “We’ll take it with us. Get the tech boys to take a look. Take all the other evidence back to the nick as well, and then head over to interview the Winters on Deerwood Estate.”

  17

  Zander studied the painting on his desk through the evidence bag. “The more I look at this, the sicker I feel.”

  “So, don’t look at it.” Isabel supplied helpfully as her phone rang. “DC York.”

  Zander grimaced. Unlike the first two victims, Ashlyn’s tongue had been removed, mirroring the painting.

  Isabel dropped the receiver back onto the base. “That was Mrs. Winter. She’s home if we want to pop over now. She lives at number thirty-four.”

  Zander jerked as if he’d been shot. “That’s next door to Iona’s husband, Ranklin.”

  “They’re best friends, apparently. Iona and Ashlyn, that is.”

  He pushed to his feet. “OK, let’s get this locked up and head over there.”

  Twenty minutes later, he pulled up at the gate, flashed his ID and drove through. “Hmm. I just thought. Were we meant to wait for the Chief Super?”

  “Guv didn’t say anything. Besides, they want this solved, don’t they? And we can’t do that from a desk. We need to be out here following up on stuff. Must admit, I didn’t expect to be back here so soon.”

  Zander parked and glanced at her. “Ready?”

  She nodded. “Yeah.”

  He walked up the path, admiring the neat lawn and pretty pansies in the flower bed. A red rose was blooming under one of the windows. He rang the bell, hearing children yelling in the background.

  A woman yelled, and then the door opened. “Hello?”

  He held out his ID. “DC Ellery and DC York. Mrs. Winter?”

  “Yes. You left a message on the answer phone. Is this about Iona?”

  Zander shook his head. “No. Can we come in?”

  Mrs. Winter opened the door wider. “Sure.”

  A child bounced into the room, whining. “Mum, Ashlyn’s not here. She promised she’d pick us up and she didn’t. So, I thought she’d be here when we got back from school.”

  “Just go and play, Sebastian. I’m sure she’ll be here shortly.” Mrs. Winter sighed as th
e child stomped off. “Triplets. They’re rather a handful, but Ashlyn manages them perfectly.”

  “How old are they?” Isabel asked.

  “Eleven. Sebastian, Oscar, and Michael. They start boarding school in September, which is why Ashlyn is leaving us then. She’s doing missionary work or something.”

  Zander cleared his throat. “When was the last time you saw Ashlyn?”

  “First thing yesterday. I picked up the boys from school, and we took them to my parents. We stayed overnight, and I dropped the boys off at school this morning. Ashlyn was due to pick them up, but she didn’t. The school rang me, so I had to leave work to collect them. It’s not like her to forget. She’s so conscientious, but maybe she went into town and got stuck in the traffic.”

  Zander pulled out his phone and showed Mrs. Winter a photograph. “Is this her?”

  “Yes…has something happened to her?”

  “I’m very sorry,” he began.

  ~*~

  While Zander spoke in depth to Mrs. Winter, Isabel headed upstairs to Ashlyn’s bedroom. She pulled on a pair of white latex gloves.

  “Is Ashlyn all right?” came a child’s voice from the doorway.

  Isabel turned to find three identical boys standing there, the exact same concerned stare on each of their faces. “Why do you ask?”

  “Cos you’re here and Mum’s crying. The lady next door got murdered. Ashlyn was more careful about what we did after that. Especially with that man—”

  One of the other kids elbowed him sharply. “Shut up, Oscar. She told us not to say anything.”

  “That’s OK,” Isabel said. She showed them her ID. “I’m a police officer. I’m good at keeping secrets. What man?”

  Oscar shoved his brother. “See, Sebastian? He was kind of creepy. He followed us when we walked to school, even watched the house a few times.”

  Isabel sat on the bed and patted it. “Sit here.”

  The kids sat around her.

  “What did he look like?”

  “Tall,” Michael told her. At least she assumed it was Michael as it was the child who hadn’t spoken yet. “He had a beard. I can draw him if you like.”