“Then you’ll fall asleep, no doubt.” She shook her head. “Dare I ask about Lydia?”
“Please don’t. It was a disaster. We ended up rowing and I walked away. I let it slip about my mother too, in front of Zoe and Jo.”
“It had to come out sooner or later, Tom.”
“But not like that. I’m a bloody fool and no mistake. I reacted to Lydia’s goading. She was going on and on about Fallon, and me having influence because he’s my cousin. So out it came.” He grimaced. “Not what I intended, but like you say, it’s done now.”
“Go home and get some rest, then tomorrow we can look at all this afresh.” She waved her arm at the board in the adjoining office.
“I promised to have a drink with the doc.” He checked his watch. “He’ll be waiting for me in the Wheatsheaf. Don’t fancy coming too, do you?”
“I suppose it’ll do no harm. Jake has a parents’ evening at school so the house will be empty.” She checked her watch. “Half an hour, then, but when I order orange juice I don’t want to hear any smart remarks from you. Remember, this is still a secret.” She rubbed a hand over her belly. “And while we’re on the subject I’ll need an hour or so off tomorrow morning. We’ve got our first scan.”
“Will you get a piccy?”
“Of course — and then I’ll start to tell people. But for now, not a word.”
The Wheatsheaf was busy for a Thursday. People were crowding around the bar and every table was full.
“Quiz night,” Ruth remarked. “Popular too. Wonder what they offer by way of prizes?”
“Not much. It’s all about getting one up on the other teams,” Sebastian Hoyle said as he walked over to join them. “Good to see you, Ruth. You’re looking well.”
“Thanks, Doc. A girl has to try.” She smiled back at him.
“Still seeing that chap of yours, teacher, isn’t he?”
Ruth nodded and gave Calladine a warning glance. “Have you told your friend you won’t be coming?” she asked him.
No, he hadn’t. Calladine swore under his breath and took himself outside where it was quieter to give Amy a ring. “Sorted,” he said, as he returned. “I’ve rearranged for tomorrow. With any luck I’ll have got my head straight by then.”
He was feeling better. Amy had seemed fine about it, and the relaxed atmosphere of the pub was calming him down. A couple of pints, a chat with the doc, and he could go home and chill properly.
“Case, Tom?” the doc asked, sipping on his pint.
“It’s becoming a nightmare. We can’t get any further forward. So far we’ve had two murders, both very different, but both by the same killer. We have a theory that it’s about revenge, but that isn’t getting us anywhere either.”
“The bucket list of victims we were talking about?”
“You’ve discussed this?” Ruth asked.
“A little,” the doc confirmed. “It strikes me that Tom could be right. Someone out there has a list and is out for revenge. So the method of killing is significant.”
“Albert North’s nephew has information but he won’t talk.”
“Information about what, Tom?” the doc asked.
“As you know, Albert was set alight. And apparently he was involved in something similar years ago but he got off — no proper evidence. A kid was left for dead and set alight but we don’t know when and the case notes are in the archive. You know what that means,” he said pulling a face.
“I hate the burnt ones,” the Doc shuddered. “I know I’m a pathologist but they still make me queasy. You know, when his body came in and I started the PM, I remembered every single one I’ve ever done. I can’t recall the names, but my first was a youth, years ago, and he was in a dreadful mess. Someone had done a right job on him. If I remember rightly we couldn’t get much in the way of forensics. The senior investigating officer at the time had a right go — I remember that alright,” he said with a sniff. “There was a court case but whoever they had in the frame walked. It was a long time ago, and there haven’t been that many since. Could that have been Albert North?”
“Worth a look at. Can you remember the year — or even better, the name?”
“No, but I know I worked on the case. It was way back when I was just starting out. I’d done five years in general practice and was bored to tears. It was one of the first cases I was part of. I recall being scared to death.”
“What about your records? Are they any easier to put your hands on than ours?”
“Sorry Tom, but no. Like yours they’re archived away and on paper.”
Ruth nudged Tom with her foot under the table. “Look who’s just come in,” she told them both.
It was Imogen and Julian Batho. They hadn’t seen them sitting there and went straight to the bar. The forensic scientist had his arm around the blonde DC’s waist.
“That pair looks very friendly,” the doc noted with a smirk. “Anything I should know?”
Calladine watched the young couple for a few seconds. They were obviously enjoying each other’s company — but then as Julian kissed Imogen’s cheek, he noticed the three of them staring.
“We’re busted,” he said to Imogen, holding his hands in the air and walking towards them.
“You lot never come in here,” he announced to the group, sounding decidedly miffed. “Too close to work you always said, Ruth.”
“It was a last minute thing for me.” She smiled. “It’s these two who fancied a session and the closer the better so this one can walk home.”
“So, you two,” Calladine smiled. “Anything we should know?”
“Nothing you need to, Inspector,” Julian replied, putting his arm back around Imogen’s waist.
The detective constable looked a little embarrassed. Both Calladine and Ruth knew that Imogen didn’t like being the subject of gossip.
“It’s early days,” she told them. “We all know what you lot are like so you can’t blame me for keeping Julian to myself for a bit.”
“Oh, we don’t.” Ruth nodded. “I’ll lay odds we’re all keeping a little something back.”
“I’m not!” Calladine piped up.
“Only because you’re such a blabbermouth you can’t keep anything quiet.” Ruth giggled. “Look at today for example.” She gave him one of her knowing looks.
“Okay, point taken.”
“You should know, guv, DI Greco from Oldston’s been trying to find you,” Imogen told Calladine. “He said it was in the nature of keeping you informed and that he’s got something on the missing girls.”
Calladine reached in his pocket for his phone. Greco wouldn’t contact his office unless it was important. He tapped in the number and waited. Julian went back to the bar to get a round of drinks and Imogen pulled up another chair and sat down.
“So, what’re you keeping back, Ruth?” Imogen asked with a grin. “What little secret have you got lurking in the shadows of your life?”
Ruth laughed. “Nothing. Wish I had, it’d make life more interesting. What about you, Doc?”
“Open book, me. I work; I don’t play much — these days. I don’t have the energy anymore.”
Calladine stood apart from the group and was listening intently to what Stephen Greco was telling him. His face was pulled into a grim frown. He definitely wasn’t happy about something.
“They’ve got something,” he told them when he got off the phone. “CCTV has thrown up a van, a large black van present outside both the schools the girls went to.”
“So why the face?” Ruth asked.
“They’ve got a registration, but true to form he doesn’t want us involved. I’ve offered our help but he refused.”
“In that case, leave him to it.”
“Isla Prideau lived — lives,” he corrected himself, “in Leesdon. We should be involved. Greco was only letting me know because he was observing protocol. Bloody good, isn’t it?”
The news had utterly flattened him. He picked up the beer Julian had bought for him
and downed it fast.
“I’m getting off. Sorry, Doc. That bit of news has really pissed me off. I’d be very poor company if I stayed.”
He’d had enough. The day was getting no better. He’d be better off at home alone, sitting in front of his fire. But he wasn’t going to get the chance.
“So this is where you’re hiding!” The voice was husky.
It almost made him jump it was so unexpected.
“Amy, I . . . I’m sorry,” he was floundering. Less than half an hour ago he’d told her he was tired and off home. Now she’d found him in here boozing with his mates. He felt like a naughty school kid again. Whatever he said it would sound like a lie, or a lame excuse. “I was going home, honest, but they dragged me here instead.” Yep, feeble, and he could tell by her look that Amy wasn’t convinced. But then again she didn’t look annoyed either — more, slightly amused.
“These are some of my colleagues,” he said hurriedly, hoping the introductions would mask his embarrassment. “You’ve met Ruth, and this is Imogen and Julian. The sad character with his face in his beer pot is the Doc.” He smiled.
“I’ve not seen you in a while, Jules. Your mum alright, is she?” Amy nodded to the others and addressed these words to Julian.
Julian Batho gave her a broad smile and nodded. So they knew each other. Calladine was taken by surprise. They were a most unlikely pair — Amy the seer and Julian the scientist. How did that work?
“Jules is my nephew,” Amy explained. “His mum is my sister, Avril.”
“Jules,” Calladine teased. “Well, you should have said. Now I know how you knew all that stuff about the cards. Why not just come clean? You could have told us. We wouldn’t have ribbed you about it. Much.”
Amy laughed, unbuttoning her coat and seating herself. “No, you wouldn’t or you’d have had me to answer to. But it’s not important. So, come on, what are you doing here when you are supposed to be seeing me?” She tugged at his arm and pulled up another chair. “I’ll have a gin and tonic please, Jules.”
“I was just off when you caught me,” admitted Calladine. “It’s been one of those days and now I’ve just had some news that’s crowned it good and proper.”
“It is their case, boss,” Ruth reminded him. “Oldston have the resources, the manpower . . . Don’t you think we’ve got our hands full enough as it is?”
Calladine knew Ruth was right but it still galled him. Isla Prideau had been taken from his patch, so it should be down to him to find her.
“I’m terrible company right now, Amy,” he apologised. “I won’t stay long but you might want to catch up with Julian.”
But Julian Batho was over by the door deep in conversation on his mobile phone.
“I came here to find you. But if you really want to go, I could come with you. We could go to yours or mine, I don’t mind which.”
“I wouldn’t be much fun, Amy. I’m done in.”
“Is that really how it is? Or have you had enough of me before we even get going?” She was whispering in his ear.
“I’m not spinning you a yarn. I need to sleep. I didn’t get home last night, remember?”
“Okay, I understand. We’ll get together over the weekend — I’ll cook,” she whispered again. “But if you cry wolf, Tom Calladine, I’ll have to get heavy.” And she winked. “You are not getting away from me that easily.”
“Will you be okay if I go?”
“Of course. I’m not a baby. Anyway, I want to get to know Julian’s new girl a little better. She’s one of yours, isn’t she?”
“Yep, and Imogen’s a bloody good cop so don’t go putting the wind up her with all that other stuff.”
“Get out of here!” She grinned. “I can see you’re going to be something of a project, but I’ll make a believer out of you yet.”
A quick peck on Amy’s cheek, a wave to Doc Hoyle and the others, and he was gone.
* * *
Calladine had to admit he was relieved to get away so easily. Much as he liked Amy, he was in no mood to spend the night with her. Perhaps he was getting old after all. He sighed. It was dark and cold, a perfect night for lazing in front of a warm fire. It took him only minutes to walk to his cottage. As he entered, his phone rang.
It was Zoe.
“Dad! Are you okay? I’ve been worried sick. It’s taken me till now to sort out Lydia, but she’s gone now.”
“Gone where?”
“She didn’t tell me and to be honest, I really don’t want to know. That woman is a nightmare at times. She can be so . . . well, so needy. She cried on Jo’s shoulder for most of the afternoon then got down and serious on her phone. The upshot was she got a call about an hour ago, which seemed to make her happier, then she took her stuff and left.”
“Did she leave any message for me? Did she say anything?”
“I think you were the last thing on her mind. She strikes me as the kind of woman who once she’s dealt with the emotional stuff can wipe someone from her life without a backward glance.”
“So you reckon I’ve been wiped, do you?”
“Yes, Dad, I do. And if you ask me you’re lucky to be free of her. I know she took care of you when you were injured, but she doesn’t half have some edge to her.”
“Thanks for dealing with her, Zo. I’m grateful, really.”
“Anyway — what you said about your mum — was that the truth or some ploy to spoil Lydia’s plans?”
“No — it’s true, every last word. I never knew, never even suspected, but Freda must have felt guilty or something because she left me a box of stuff to back everything up.”
“Do you know what happened?”
“In a nutshell, my dad had an affair and produced me with another woman. I’ve never even met her. I know her name from the letter Freda left me but I only found out today who she is.”
“So who is she?”
“Zo — for now, I’d rather not say. I won’t keep things to myself for much longer but it’s complicated and loosely mixed up with a case we’re working on at the moment.”
“But you will tell me, and I can see what’s in the tin sometime, can’t I?”
“If you want, Zo. In fact you can keep it for me, if you will? Perhaps I’ll bring it round at the weekend. You can have a look, read the letters and make up your own mind about it all.”
Chapter 16
Harriet wore the grey wig, a woollen hat and her black coat. She didn’t want to be noticed. Walking was becoming more and more difficult, so she also took her stick, the one with the blade hidden inside it. Anyone who saw her would simply see an old lady and pay her no attention. She caught the bus from the end of her avenue and got off at Oldston bus station. From here it was only a five minute walk to the library.
It was closed or she’d have waited inside but there was a small garden with a hedge so she tucked herself in behind it to wait. The occasional passer-by took no notice of her — she was one of the invisible old.
She spotted him as soon as he turned the corner onto the street. Yuri was a thickset man with broad shoulders and a bald head. He wasn’t particularly tall and walked with a slight swagger. As he got closer he stopped to light a cigarette and Harriet saw the tattoo on his lower arm — a snake.
She shuffled out and coughed, clutching a hankie to her mouth. She stopped and fumbled in her bag for a second or two. He did not even look. He was waiting for a redhead in the fur coat.
“Excuse me!” she called to him. “Do you have the time? My son was supposed to pick me up but I think he must be running late.”
He swore in some foreign tongue and flung the cigarette to the ground. He looked at her briefly and then checked his watch.
“Eight.” He barked it out, zipping up his leather jacket against the cold wind.
“I don’t know how I’ll get home now,” she grumbled. “He doesn’t usually let me down. He’s a good boy.”
He cleared his throat and spat onto the ground. He turned his back on her. His girth
made him a perfect target. Harriet gave a quick look at the surrounding buildings. She couldn’t see any CCTV, but you could never be sure. But even if she was caught on camera, no one would recognise her. There was not a soul on the street.
He was talking to someone on his phone, oblivious of her presence. Harriet pressed the button on the stick, lifted it horizontally, took aim and held her breath. The blade sprang out, bright and sharp. This was going to be good. This man deserved everything that was coming to him. She crept a couple of steps towards him and then lunged with all her strength, spearing him in his lower back. Like meat on a skewer, laughed the voice.
He gasped and then gave a low groan. His legs crumpled and he sank to the pavement, where he lay prone. His head had turned to one side, his eyes were open, his arms flailing around wildly. He screamed for help. Harriet stood over him.
“Sick bastard. Not such a hard nut now, are you?” She felt triumphant. The hard nut had been no match for Harriet. She laughed. Who’d have thought it, eh? A sick, dying woman and the tough people trafficker. She aimed a kick at his kidneys and another to the head.
“The only fitting retribution for those children is for you to die. You gave up your right to live the day you started with the children. What do you think of that, Yuri?”
He was silent and his eyes were wide with fright. Harriet knew there must be little fight left in him. She’d had enough too. It was too cold to wait any longer. She placed the blood-stained blade against the side of his neck just above his carotid artery and pushed hard with all her remaining strength. It was over in seconds. One final shudder and Yuri was dead.
It was time to go. Harriet took a card from her coat pocket and stuffed it into his hand. It was the Eight of Swords — one of its meanings was entrapment. Perfect.
* * *
Friday
“DS Quickenden has been on from Oldston nick, sir. He says they’ve found a body. It looks like the victim was killed sometime last night.”
Calladine tore his eyes from the incident board and looked at Rocco. “So? What’s it got to do with us? They’ve got DI Supercop to sort it out.”
Bayliss & Calladine Box Set Page 48
