Deadly Fallout (Detective Zoe Finch Book 6)

by Rachel McLean

  Fear broke on his face. “Anita. Please. I’m going to talk to Professional Standards. I’m going to—”

  “Did you sleep with that woman? Alina?”

  “No. I swear it. She was just a pretty young thing to hang on my arm at a party.”

  “I could have done that.”

  “It wasn’t that kind of party.”

  “No.” She sank back into the pillows. Sleep pulled at her, despite the horror of what David was telling her. “Go. Don’t wake me before you leave in the morning.”

  He reached for her hand under the duvet. She shrugged him off.

  “Let me sleep, David.”

  Chapter Ninety-Two

  Zoe’s phone rang as she drove home. The adrenaline had left her and her limbs felt heavy.

  She checked the screen and felt a tug of relief.

  “Nicholas.”

  “Sorry, Mum.”

  She wanted to melt. “It’s OK. I can see why the relationship I had with your gran is difficult for you.”

  He sobbed. “It’s different for me.”

  “I know.” She’d worked hard not to infect him with her resentment of Annette. At least that had worked, to some extent.

  “I’ll miss her, Mum. I wanted the two of you to make it up. She’s not all that bad.”

  “Maybe not.” Was he right? Had she only seen Annette through the goggles of childhood neglect? Had her mum changed her ways?

  “Where are you?”

  “Zaf’s. His mum said I should call you.”

  “Anabelle knows what she’s talking about.”

  “But I was going to anyway.”

  “Good. Are you coming home?”

  “It’s two am.”

  “And you’ve got school in the morning.” He’d still been wearing his uniform when he’d stormed off. She wasn’t sure how they’d react to him turning up in yesterday’s clothes.

  “Come home, love,” she said.

  “I’m tired, Mum. I just want Zaf to hold me.”

  Zoe’s breath caught. She’d stopped being the person her son went to when he needed comfort.

  She forced a smile, hoping he could hear it down the phone. “I understand. I’ll see you tomorrow. I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  Chapter Ninety-Three

  Zoe had another call to make. She dialled the number as she drove, heading towards the city centre now.

  Carl yawned. “Zoe? What time is it?”

  “Late. Sorry to call you like this, Carl, but we need to talk.”

  “Come to the flat. I’ll put coffee on.” Another yawn.

  “No,” she said. “I’ll meet you at Lloyd House.”

  “It’s the middle of the night. The place is closed.”

  “It’s a police station, Carl. It doesn’t just open nine to five.”

  “Why now? Can’t it wait?”

  “I’ve just been driving around the West Midlands with David Randle, looking for his wife. She was taken by Hamm’s people.”

  “You’ve what?” His voice sharpened.

  “We’ve arrested Hamm. Anita Randle is safe. And her husband has sworn to me that he’ll contact your boss. But I don’t trust him.”

  “Where is he now?”

  “He went with his wife, in an ambulance.”

  “Shit. Which hospital?”

  “You’re going to go after him?”

  “I’m going to talk to you first. Be at Lloyd House front entrance in fifteen minutes.”

  “I’ll be there in ten.”

  She blinked to keep her eyes open as she crossed the inner ring road and drove into the city centre. It was time to tell Carl everything she knew.

  Chapter Ninety-Four

  Anita listened as David’s car left the driveway. The girls were moving around the house, arguing as they tried to get themselves ready for school.

  She sat up in bed, wincing. Her ankle still hurt and her head felt thick. But she needed to be alert.

  She went to the wardrobe and threw on the softest clothes she could find: a pair of faded joggers and a grey hoody. She pushed open the door to her room, forcing a mask of calm onto her face.

  Maria was stood on the landing, her blazer on the floor beside her. Pens were scattered around it.

  “Mum, she threw all my stuff on the floor.”

  “Just put it all back in the pockets. It’s only some pens.” Anita reached out for her daughter.

  Maria gave her a puzzled look. “What happened to you?” She pointed at Anita’s face. “Dad said you had to go to Aunty Julia’s.”

  Anita nodded. “She wasn’t very well. She needed someone to help out with the baby.”

  “You could have told us.”

  “Sorry, love.” Anita pulled Maria to her and gave her a squeeze. It wouldn’t be long before she couldn’t fold her youngest daughter in her arms anymore.

  “You’re not going anywhere again, are you Mum?” Maria’s voice was muffled.

  Anita squeezed harder. “No. Promise.”

  She bent to pick up her daughter’s blazer, wincing. “Don’t worry about this.”

  “Sorry, Mum. I’ll pick it up. You look…”

  Anita turned away, embarrassed by her injuries. She needed to be strong for her girls.

  “You’re getting a day off,” she said. “Carly too.”

  Maria’s face brightened. “Carly!” she cried. “No school today.”

  Carly emerged from her room. “How come?”

  Maria turned to her. “Mum says.”

  Carly looked past her sister to her mum. “School’s closed?”

  “I just wanted to spend some time with you both. We’re going on a trip.”

  “What kind of trip?”

  “Not sure, yet. Both of you, go to your room and pack a bag. Clothes, phones. Any other stuff that’s important to you.”

  “What’s going on?” Carly asked.

  Anita avoided her daughter’s eye. She’d explain later, when they were safely away from here. She had money, David had put cash into a savings account over the years and she had access.

  First stop would be the bank. Then… well, then she’d have to work something out.

  “Go on, then!”

  Anita turned back to her own room and opened the wardrobe doors. She didn’t want much, it all made her think of David. Clothes she’d worn to fit with her life as the senior police officer’s wife.

  She thought of Margaret Jackson. The woman had moved into a house in Solihull, abandoning that massive place her husband had bought them. Now Anita knew how he’d paid for it.

  Maybe Margaret would give her a place to stay, for a few days. She’d understand.

  Carly ran into the room, holding a stuffed dog. “Should I take Hector?”

  “Yes. Bring Hector.”

  “OK. Don’t tell Maria.”

  Anita smiled as her daughter ran out. She sank onto the bed, pulling all her strength together. She could do this. It was the best thing, for her and her daughters.

  Chapter Ninety-Five

  “Zoe, a word.” Dawson poked his head out of his office as she passed on her way to her own. She yawned and followed him in.

  “Have you slept?” he asked.

  “Not yet.”

  “You’ve come straight from Lloyd House.”

  She blanched.

  “They called me, Zoe. You make a statement like that, and your line manager gets a call.”

  She sat down. “What did they say?”

  “You’re going to be recommended for a commendation. Yeah, I’m as surprised as you are.”

  “Yesterday I thought I might be arrested.”

  “You’re a good copper, Zoe. You’ve made some mistakes, and you need to rein yourself in sometimes. But PSD knew you had nothing to do with what the Super and Ian Osman were up to.”

  “Did you know anything?” Zoe asked him.

  “I didn’t even know that PSD had placed Osman in your team until the trial.”

&
nbsp; “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be. The fewer people know about this stuff, the better.”

  “I want to be the one to interview Trevor Hamm,” she told him.

  “Of course you do. But it’s not that simple.”

  “Why not?”

  “PSD need to thoroughly investigate what happened with you and Randle yesterday. You went rogue, Zoe.”

  “But I thought…”

  “You got Hamm. You seem to have uncovered the most senior corrupt officer in this force. But they still need to check you out. You’re on paid leave for two weeks or until the investigation is concluded, whichever’s sooner.”

  She jabbed her thumbnail into his desk. “That’s not fair. It was my team that tracked Hamm down. I need to—”

  Dawson raised a hand. “Did anyone see you come in here?”

  She tried to remember if the corridor had been empty. It was only half past seven. Her team would be in, though.

  “No one.”

  “In that case, we haven’t spoken. You go and do what you need to do, then come and find me. No later than midday, though.”

  She stood up. “Right. Thanks.”

  He gave her a wink. Maybe he wasn’t such an arsehole after all. She smiled at him.

  “Thanks, sir. I appreciate it.”

  He laughed.

  Chapter Ninety-Six

  “Boss.” Connie looked over her screen and grinned as Zoe entered the team room. “Perfect timing.”

  Zoe grabbed a chair and pulled it to Connie’s desk. “You should be at home. I told you to come in late, you need your rest.”

  Connie raised an eyebrow. “You’re here.”

  “How long have you been in, Connie?”

  “Not long.” Connie looked away.

  “Long enough to start trawling through the CCTV from the gym.”

  “They didn’t wipe it at all, boss. I think they kept it deliberately. We found this recording in a separate file.”

  “We?”

  Connie blushed. “I.”

  “Take credit where you deserve it, Connie.”

  “I’ll try.”

  “Show me, then.”

  Connie brought up the file. It showed Anita Randle being brought to the gym. Two men Zoe didn’t recognise carried her. She flopped in their arms, drugged.

  “Poor woman,” Zoe whispered. “We got anything from inside?”

  “Just the stairway.” Connie showed her a video of Anita being carried up the stairs then taken through a door. Sheena MacDonald watched as the men carried her, her expression tight.

  “So she was involved, then,” Zoe said.

  “Rhodri’s gone with Uniform to pick her up.”

  “Blimey, you lot don’t hang around, do you?”

  Connie’s eyes crinkled. “And there’s this.” She opened another file.

  The shot was from a corner of the gym, at the front. It showed the road opposite, and the area of land where they’d found Petersen.

  A van drove into shot. Two people got out and opened the back doors. They pulled what could only have been Petersen’s body out and dragged it to the grass. Then they spent some time arranging him there.

  “What was all that about?” Zoe asked. “The threading the needle thing.”

  “Could be relevant,” Connie said. “Could be nothing. But I’ve traced the van. It was also involved in a drugs drop in Sparkhill two weeks ago. One that Organised Crime are investigating.”

  “Good work, Connie. Bring up the file for that investigation.”

  “Right here.” Connie had the record open in another screen.

  Zoe scanned it. “Dwayne Jukes.”

  “Seems they’re from his gang,” Connie said.

  “And they’ll have been mighty pissed off at Hamm killing their boss.”

  “Revenge?”

  “Let’s find out.” Zoe stood up.

  “Boss?”

  “I’m going to find Sheila, interview Hamm with her. Then I’ve got to check in with Dawson. After that…”

  “Everything OK, boss?”

  “Fine. If you can’t find me, just talk to Mo. He’ll tell you what to do.”

  Connie frowned. “Course, boss.”

  Chapter Ninety-Seven

  Hamm glared back at Zoe as she sat at the interview room table and placed her hands on the surface. Sheila took the seat next to her, slapping down a heavy file.

  Zoe turned on the digital recorder.

  “Present, Detective Inspector Finch.”

  “DS Griffin,” added Sheila.

  “Edward Startshaw, solicitor, and my client Trevor Hamm,” added Startshaw. Zoe threw him a smug smile across the table. She wondered how he’d felt when he’d finally received the call to tell him Hamm had been arrested.

  Zoe shuffled in her seat.

  “Mr Hamm. Can I call you Trevor?”

  “My client would rather you—”

  “Trevor.” Zoe flashed her eyes at him, then caught Sheila clearing her throat.

  Calm down, she told herself. She wasn’t going to nail him by getting over-excited.

  “Let’s start at the beginning shall we, Trevor?”

  He stared back at her. His eyes were small in his red, overweight face, and he breathed heavily. Not for the first time, Zoe wondered what it must have been like for Irina Hamm and Sofia Pichler to go home to him at night.

  He folded his arms across his chest and grunted.

  Zoe opened her file. “Let’s start at the beginning, shall we?”

  He cocked his head.

  “Alina Popescu. The woman who detonated the New Street bomb. How did you know her?”

  “No comment.”

  Zoe tensed. She’d been expecting this.

  “I have here a copy of her passport.” She pushed a photocopy across the table. “We found it in the brothel where you forced Alina to stay while you were selling her to men for sex and grooming her as a suicide bomber.”

  “No comment.”

  So he wasn’t going to talk. No surprise there. Zoe knew she had the evidence. And if he failed to cooperate, it would be worse for him in court.

  She scratched her nose, flipping to the next piece of evidence. Bring it on.

  Chapter Ninety-Eight

  Zoe was woken by her doorbell ringing.

  “I’ll get it!” called Nicholas.

  She rolled over and checked her phone: she’d slept till gone nine. She never did that. Nicholas was downstairs, cooking pancakes by the smell of it.

  She lay on her back and inhaled deeply. She and Nicholas had cried together last night, sharing memories of Annette. She’d even found an old photo album that she’d hidden away years ago. It had been cathartic, if challenging. And she’d managed to not mention Annette’s alcoholism once.

  “It’s Mo!” Nicholas called up the stairs.

  Zoe grabbed her dressing gown and hurried down to her friend. He stood inside the front door, his arms outstretched.

  She stepped into them and gave him a tight hug. “Congratulations.”

  He pulled back to look into her face. “You too.”

  “You arrested Hamm. That must have been quite a moment.”

  “You got Randle,” he replied.

  “Carl got Randle.”

  “He couldn’t have done it without your statement.”

  “Maybe not.” She remembered she hadn’t told Carl about her mum’s death. And he’d been cool with her at Lloyd House. Ultra-professional. She had to hope that giving him everything she knew about Randle was enough to soften his attitude towards her.

  “Give me five minutes to put some clothes on. We’ll go for a coffee.”

  “You’ve got coffee here, haven’t you? And your son needs you.”

  She glanced towards the kitchen, where Nicholas was playing loud rock music.

  “Yeah. Come through. I’m getting changed, though.”

  Two minutes later she was wearing jeans and a t-shirt and cradling a mug of strong coffee. Mo sat next t
o her on the sofa with a mug of tea.

  “You want pancakes, Mo?” Nicholas called.

  “Please.” He leaned back and crossed his legs, an ankle on a knee. “He makes a good cup of tea.”

  “He’s a very talented young man.”

  “Like his mum.”

  “I’ve been suspended, you know.”

  “Not suspended. Paid leave until they clear everything up.”

  “That sounds a lot like suspended to me.”

  “It’ll be fine. Dawson says you’re up for a commendation.”

  “Don’t count your chickens,” she replied. She wasn’t the commendation type. “Anyway, you’re the one who took Hamm down.”

  “There’s no way I’d have collared him if it hadn’t been for you. And Connie and Rhod.”

  “How are they?”

  “Itching for you to come back.”

  “Not itching to get themselves promoted?”

  “Let’s take things one step at a time.”

  She laughed. “They’re both good, but in different ways.”

  “Maybe if you put the two of them together, you’d get the perfect sergeant.”

  “Or the sergeant from a nightmare.”

  Nicholas slapped two plates down. “Voila.”

  “Mmm.” Zoe picked up a fork. “Thanks, love. You seeing Zaf today?”

  “In an hour.” Nicholas darted back into the kitchen. Zoe heard him shouting something about burning.

  She grimaced at Mo. “Oops.”

  “Oops indeed. We’re lucky we got these ones.”

  “So did you interview Sheena MacDonald?” she asked through a mouthful of pancake.

  “She gave Hamm up. Didn’t hold back. Seems she reckoned he was going to dump her in the shit and she wanted to get in there first.”

  “Specifics?”

  “Murder of Dwayne Jukes. Raif Starling too. That wasn’t Hamm himself, but he gave the order.”

  Zoe wiped up the last of her maple syrup with a pancake. “Why?”

  “Starling was working with Jukes’s lot. When Hamm killed Jukes, he took over that gang. But there were a couple of them that were having none of it, and Starling refused to switch allegiances, too.”