DEAD SILENT a gripping detective thriller full of suspense

by Helen H. Durrant

  “I don’t know, sir. Could there be a cellar? I mean, would a barn even have a cellar?”

  Unlikely, but it had given him an idea. Calladine went outside again and walked all around the building. The land fell away on the far side. Over the years, soil and stone had been piled up against the wall, but it was possible that at some time in the past it had been a two storey building with another entrance back here, an entrance to what was then the ground floor.

  “Ruth — I think what we’re standing in now was once the upper floor. If I’m right then there was once another way in, at the back.”

  “So what are we looking for, sir?”

  “A way down from in here — possibly a hidden entrance. Get the others.”

  It didn’t take long. They found a loose flagstone laid over a wooden trapdoor that led down a flight of steps.

  “Get Julian in here.”

  “Forensics first!” Julian called out. He was suited up, and, his way lit by with several torches, he descended the steps. “Inspector! Your man, Rigby, is down here. Get an ambulance!”

  Calladine nodded at Ruth, hauled a white all-in-one suit over his clothes and went down after Julian. Robert Rigby was unconscious. He had been struck by something, which had caused a wound to his head. The room they were in smelled dreadful. There was an old stained mattress on the floor and what looked a dentist’s chair in the far corner. Calladine shuddered. Those poor women — what they must have endured down here with no one to help them. He was just glad it was finally all over.

  * * *

  “A job well done, sir.” It was an hour later. “Rigby will be fine: concussion and a broken arm. He was lucky; Dobson could have killed him — would have killed him if we hadn’t got him.”

  “That’s it, then. It’s all down to forensics now to piece things together. Imogen’s been on. The DNA from the girls and the foetuses is a match for Dobson, so we’ve got him.”

  “I think we should call it a day. I’m whacked; what about you?”

  “I certainly am. It’s been a long haul — one of the worst. But we did it — we got that bastard off the streets and all the evidence we need to make a cast-iron case.”

  “Coming to the pub? Celebration drink?”

  An excellent idea, and there was a time when Calladine wouldn’t have had to think twice about it. But now he had commitments. There were people at home to see to.

  “You saw my house — they’ll all be back soon.” He checked his watch. “So no. I’m sorry to wimp out, but it’ll have to be another time, if you don’t mind. I’m going to make some food, delegate the washing-up and then put my feet up.”

  “Doesn’t a stiff drink sound better, Tom? It’s been a big day altogether, what with the case, the horrors and all the personal stuff.”

  “You just keep the box thing to yourself for now, Ruth. I’ll get it back when I’ve decided how to keep it away from prying eyes. And anyway — never mind me, perhaps you’d do better to go home and see Jake. Won’t he wonder where you are? You don’t really want to go back to him smelling of booze.”

  “I don’t know what I want. To be honest, I’m still upset about what we’ve just found. I don’t think I’d be much company for Jake. He doesn’t like me to talk about my job, and you know what it’s like. Once a case is wrapped up all the talking, the going over stuff, it’s like therapy. Anyway, Rocco, Imogen and the others will expect one of us to turn up.” She nudged him playfully. “Joyce will be upset if you don’t come — she seems to be carrying something of a torch for you.”

  “First I’ve heard. And don’t you go stirring it. Joyce is a bloody good administrator — if she gets the funnies and leaves, then we’d all miss her.”

  “No fear of her doing that, sir. We wouldn’t let her. Is there anything yet on a replacement for Dodgy?”

  “No, and I doubt there will be with Jones in penny-pinching mode.”

  “I see. So the team shrinks.”

  “The mistake we made was managing. All Jones sees is another case wound up. I’ve had the obligatory moan about lack of staff, but nonetheless — we still sorted it.”

  “We had help, sir. There was Alice and your new pal from the States.”

  “I must Skype Devon later — tell him the good news.”

  “And Alice?”

  “We’ll see.”

  * * *

  Lydia drove down Leesdon High Street as slowly as she dared, mentally willing all the traffic lights to change to red. Fallon was sitting at her side, chewing gum and still pressing that damn pistol into her thigh. She was frantically trying to work out what she could do. She was tempted to pull in and make a run for it. But the streets were so well lit that all she’d be doing was making herself a damn good target.

  “Step on it, second on the right up here.”

  “I know very well where Tom lives. What are you going to do?”

  The question had been burning a hole in her brain since they left Cheshire, but she already knew the answer. This wasn’t going to be good. Something had happened — hence the police raid, and Fallon knew Tom was at the bottom of it. He intended to kill him — he had nothing to lose now.

  “Let’s put it this way, his detecting days are over. He’s crossed me once too often, and if I’m going down because of him then I’m taking him with me.”

  “You’ll not get away with it. Things will be twice as bad for you if you hurt him. They’ll come after you. You’re not stupid. You should turn yourself in.”

  He burst into laughter, so hard that he had to wipe the tears from his eyes. “You’re very entertaining as well as being a looker. I can well understand why Thomas keeps you around. There’s a space outside his house — pull into it.”

  Lydia was a bag of nerves. Tom was in — she could see the lights were on. She felt sick — what if Zoe and her friend were home too? What would Fallon do to them? Come to think about it — what plans did he have for her?

  “Look, why don’t you just go now? I won’t say anything, it’ll be our secret. You don’t have to do this, I won’t tell Tom, honestly.”

  “Get out and get the door open.”

  Lydia had no choice. She scrambled out of the car and knocked feebly on the front door. Fallon followed, and stood with his back to the wall so Tom wouldn’t see him.

  * * *

  “I thought I gave you a key.” Calladine opened the door wearing an apron wrapped around his middle. “I’m doing a beef stew — that suit you?”

  Fallon pushed Lydia to one side and shoved Calladine backwards into the house. Fallon was shorter than his cousin, but the detective was caught off guard and stumbled back awkwardly.

  “Ray! What are doing? You bloody fool!”

  “Getting my own back, and how very good it feels too, Thomas.” Fallon looked around the room. “I always knew it would come to this. You never learn. You sent them after me — you stitched me up with those damn flowers, you interfering bastard. Well, this time you’re not coming out on top.”

  Calladine watched Fallon smile. The idiot had a gun.

  “Right between the eyes, Thomas. Then I’ll deal with that bloody woman.”

  Calladine stepped backwards, his mind frantically searching for a way out. Fallon would kill him and then he’d kill anyone else in the house – Lydia!

  “Say your prayers, Thomas.”

  He heard Lydia scream. She was standing behind his cousin. If she was going to do something then she had only seconds. Calladine was frozen to the spot. All he could see was that damn gun, raised and pointed directly at him. Then Lydia struck.

  He watched her jump forward, catching Fallon’s arm with her hand at the instant he pulled the trigger. It knocked him off balance and the bullet fell short of its mark, but it still hit him.

  Tom Calladine heard her scream again as he crumpled like a rag doll and fell to the floor.

  There was heat. Waves of searing heat, and an excruciating stinging sensation. He was falling and he couldn’t hear properly. H
e was on his back staring up at the ceiling. The light fitting seemed to be swimming wildly in his field of vision. The last thing he saw was Lydia’s face; the last thing he felt were her warm tears falling onto his cheek. But what gave him hope before the blackness took him was the sound of Ruth’s voice somewhere in the distance, and the noise of police sirens tearing up his street.

  THE END

  THE FIRST CALLADINE AND BAYLISS MYSTERY IS AVAILABLE NOW

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  A bag of severed fingers is found in a playground. . .

  Glossary of English Slang for US readers

  Charity Shop: thrift store

  Carrier bag: plastic bag from supermarket

  Care Home: an institution where old people are cared for

  Chat-up: flirt, trying to pick up someone with witty banter or compliments

  Comprehensive School (Comp.): High school

  Childminder: someone who looks after children for money

  Council: local government

  Deck: one of the landings on a floor of a tower block

  DI: detective inspector

  DS: detective sergeant

  ED: accident and emergency department of hospital

  Early dart: to leave work early

  Estate: public/social housing estate (similar to housing projects)

  Estate agent: realtor (US)

  Fag: cigarette

  Garden Centre: a business where plants and gardening equipment are sold

  GP: general practitioner, a doctor based in the community

  Handy Man case: the case Calladine and Bayliss dealt with described in Dead Wrong.

  Home: care home for elderly or sick people

  Inne: isn’t he

  Into care: a child taken away from their family by the social services

  Lad: young man

  Nick: police station (as verb: to arrest)

  Nowt: nothing

  Nutter: insane person

  Nursery: a place which grows plants, shrubs and trees for sale (often wholesale)

  PC: police constable

  Piss off: as exclamation, go away (rude). Also can mean annoy.

  Planning Department: the local authority department which issues licences to build and develop property

  Randy: horny

  Scroat: low-life

  Semi: Semi-detached house, house with another house joined to it on one side only

  Solicitor: lawyer

  Sweeting: endearment, like sweetheart

  Tea: Dinner (Northern English)

  Till: cash register

  Torch: flashlight

  Tutor: university teacher

  Tower block: tall building containing apartments (usually social housing)

  CHARACTER LIST

  Detective Inspector Tom Calladine

  He is single, just past fifty. He is tall, slim build but with reasonable muscle tone, his hair used to be dark but is now greying and is cut close to his head. His daughter is called Zoe, she resulted from his short-lived marriage and he only found about her recently.

  Detective Sergeant Ruth Bayliss

  She is single in Dead Wrong but has now met someone — teacher Jake Ireson. She’s in her mid-thirties, likes birdwatching.

  Detective Constable Simon Rockliffe — Rocco

  A solid team member. He works hard and gets results. He is tipped to go far. He was attacked on the Hobfield in Dead Wrong.

  Detective Constable Imogen Goode

  She is the IT expert of the team. She is intense — very keen on her work — a bit of a nerd. She is being eyed up by Julian — the forensics expert.

  Acting Detective Chief Inspector George Jones

  A mediocre stand-in at best. He considers himself overworked and can’t handle the pressure. Runs the nick on a day-to-day basis.

  Detective Inspector Brad Long

  Overweight, and generally lazy — the other team leader in the police station.

  Detective Sergeant Don Thorpe

  Works with Long and has picked up his bad habits.

  Doctor Sebastian Hoyle

  Pathologist. Often referred to as the doc.

  Forensic scientist — Doctor Julian Batho.

  Unmarried, hard-working. Not particularly good-looking.

  Monika Smith

  Care home manager and sometime girlfriend of Calladine.

  Freda Calladine

  Tom’s mother — resident in the care home run by Monika.

  Lydia Holden

  Reporter seeking the big time. She is a glamorous blonde who uses her looks to get what she wants. Calladine falls for her. She was a reporter for the Leesworth Echo in the case described in Dead Wrong.

  Ray Fallon

  Calladine’s cousin on his mother’s side. One of Manchester’s most notorious gangsters — drugs, gun running — whatever he can make money at. His gang provides the drugs for the local housing estate — the Hobfield.

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