by Clare Revell
“Yes, sir, but I won’t have the card for a week and without that I’m stuffed.”
Her boss put a hand on her shoulder. “Leave it with me. I’ll organise the transfer and have some cash for you when you get back.”
DS Painter ran across the car park. “Good I caught you. All the best, Isabel, don’t break a leg because it makes driving difficult. See you in the Three Sixteen at half twelve.”
“I’ll be there.” She fished in her pockets and held out a piece of paper. “Please don’t lose it, it’s the only copy I have.”
“I won’t.” DI Holmes opened the car door for her. “Have you got everything?”
“Yes.” She got into the car and dumped her bag on DS King’s feet in the passenger foot well. She took a deep breath as she started her cockpit drill. Here goes nothing. I’m not asking to pass Lord, just don’t let me kill anyone in the next couple of hours.
5
Isabel entered the Three Sixteen and glanced around for DS Painter. Why wasn’t she surprised to find the Guv and DS Phillips there as well? They stood as she reached them.
“Well?” DS Holmes demanded. “We’ve been trying to work it out from your face but you’re not giving anything away.”
Isabel grinned. “And you call yourselves detectives.” She dropped into the spare chair. “The streets of Headley Cross are no longer safe…I passed.”
All three men congratulated her.
“Thank you. The examiner is sending off for the licence, so I don’t need to do that. DS King is organising the police driving course for a couple of months’ time. Not that I can afford a car, especially now, but anyway it’s one less thing for Zander to complain about.”
“Speaking of money, I’ve done the bank transfer and the money is in here.” DI Holmes slid an envelope across the table to her. “I’ve brought David up to speed. He’ll be your partner for the next few days.”
“OK,” she replied. “Thank you.”
DS Painter handed her the menu. “What do you fancy?”
“Bacon, egg and chips,” she said without looking. She really wished Zander had a phone so she could tell him. It would have to wait until tonight, she’d go visit after work.
DI Holmes got up and went to the counter to order the food.
Isabel’s phone rang. She fished it out of her bag. “Isabel York.”
“Hello, Girlie, it’s me.”
“Hi, Gramps. Everything OK?” Calling Zander’s grandfather ‘gramps’ had happened on its own and it suited them both.
“No.” Gramps’ terse and frustrated tone showed how worried he was. “I called the hospital to see how Zander was, but the nurse said he wasn’t there. I figured I got the wrong ward, so I wanted to check with you.”
“He’s on Bedivere.”
“That’s where I rang.”
Isabel tapped her fingers on the table. “Tell you what, I’ll pop over there this afternoon and check on him. Then we can both go and visit tonight. Other than that, is everything all right at home? Did you find your lunch?”
“I did. You spoil me.”
Isabel smiled. “Some people are worth spoiling. I better go. I’ll call back when I find something out.” She ended the call and put the phone back in her bag.
DS Painter studied her across the table. “Problems?”
“I’m not sure. Gramps, well, he’s Zander’s grandfather really, rang the hospital to see how Zander is. Only he wasn’t there.”
DS Phillips frowned. “Let me call them.”
“I don’t mind.” Isabel said. “They think I’m his girlfriend anyway because they translated partner wrong.”
“I’ll do it.” DS Phillips stood.
Before Isabel could argue, he had pulled out his phone and dialled.
DI Holmes came back over with the tray of drinks. “Food won’t be long.”
DS Phillips frowned as he spoke on the phone. He ended the call. “We might just have a problem. Zander was transferred from Headley General just after nine o’clock this morning against the wishes of his doctor.”
DI Holmes scowled. “I’ll call the prison when we get back to the office.”
“We could go over there, sir,” Isabel said. “We are just around the corner.”
“It’s easier for me to ring them,” DI Holmes said.
Isabel looked down. She knew when not to argue but wasn’t happy with the decision at all. Worry gnawed at her. Where was he? Was he OK?
~*~
White sterile walls surrounded him. Padded cuffs secured his wrists and ankles to the gurney. It was pointless trying to move. Zander had already determined it was impossible.
A figure in a white coat appeared by his side.
Zander ran his tongue over his parched lips. “Who are you?”
“I’m Dr. Frank Stein.”
Zander looked at him straight faced. “Is your middle name N?”
Dr. Stein shook his head sadly. “Actually yes, my parents thought it was funny. They spelt it En.”
“It is kind of funny.” Zander frowned. “Why am I here? I’m not crazy.”
Dr. Stein pulled over a chair and sat. “I’d have to disagree with that. You killed ten women and a cat.”
“It wasn’t me.” Zander yelled. “I didn’t kill Mr. T or Mrs. Kowalski, and the cops know that. Besides, after eight perfect murders why would I ruin the last one and burn her after she died?”
“You tell me.”
“Actually, I’d rather you tell me. You’re the shrink.”
Dr. Stein looked up from the clipboard. “Well, I think it’s because you were angry at her for leaving you.”
“Nope.”
“She embarrassed you at work.”
“Nope.” How did he know that? Had someone from work been talking?
Dr. Stein glanced at the clipboard and then looked up. “She almost cost you your job with the perjury incident.”
“No.” Zander was a little more than irritated by now. “And that’s your third wrong guess. Your time is up.” He returned his gaze to the ceiling. Nobody knew about the perjury apart from the Guv. Zander tried to get his drug addled mind to work. His head spun and he felt sick. “I’d like to go back to my room now.”
“This is your room.” Dr. Stein stared at him.
“Then get out so I can sleep, throw up, or both. I’m not fussed as to which order it happens in.” Zander closed his eyes. He took several deep breaths waiting for the doctor to leave.
~*~
DI Holmes paced in his office on the phone.
“How long does a simple phone call take?”
Isabel sat at her desk, unable to concentrate. Worry gnawed a hole in her thoughts.
DS Painter looked at her across the desk. “He’ll come and find you when he knows something. Now sort out that in-tray.”
“Yes, Sarge.” Isabel glared at her in-tray. Then at the zebra. She really did need to go through all the footage and see just who was dumping stuff on her desk. She grabbed a pile of mail from the in-tray. “OK. We have pizza, stair gate, pizza, gardening, window cleaning, and airport taxis. See it’s just everyone else’s junk mail and I’m sick of it.” She tossed it all in the bin with a satisfying thud. Grabbing another handful, she went through that one, dropping each piece into the bin as she went through them. “Pizza, supermarket discount sheet, Christmas leaflet. Christmas, seriously? It’s August. Way too early, even for me. Taxi. Actual mail. Mobility scooter. How old do you lot think I am? Bus timetable. Taxi to the airport. Patio furniture. Actual mail.”
DI Holmes flung open his office door. “Dane. David. My office.” The phone call had obviously really upset him.
Both men rose and scurried across the room.
Isabel sighed. She rapidly sorted the rest of the mail and binned everything apart from the brown envelopes. “What is it with brown A5 envelopes?” she muttered. She opened the top one and shook her head. Missed you Isabel, Love, Austin.
Isabel glared across the room at Austin. �
�Cute. Didn’t miss you.”
“That is so mean.” Austin flung an eraser at her.
Isabel threw it back. “So’s this.”
DS Painter came back into the room. “Isabel, the Guv needs you now.” His stare took in the rest of the squad. “And this in-tray malarkey stops now. Got it? All of you. I do not expect to have to tell everybody again.”
“Yes, Sarge.” Everyone chorused.
Isabel didn’t move. “I only have four more letters to do.”
“Leave them.” DS Painter told her. “This can’t wait.”
“Fine.” Isabel dumped the envelopes back into the in-tray. One fell out onto the desk. She reached for it and froze.
“Isabel, I said now.” DI Holmes’ angry voice came across the room.
Isabel held out the letter. “Guv, it’s from him.”
DI Holmes strode across the room. “Who’s him?”
“The Slayer…”
“Can’t be the Slayer.” Austin said. “He’s in jail.”
“Or he should be.” DI Holmes folded his arms across his chest.
Isabel did a double take. “I’m sorry?”
DI Holmes frowned. “That’s why I needed you in my office. Zander is missing. He was discharged from Headley General this morning, but he never arrived back at the prison.”
Worry shot through Isabel. “Where is he?”
DI Holmes scowl deepened. “How would I know?” He huffed out a breath. “He was picked up by ambulance and vanished.”
DS Phillips slammed down the phone. “Found him, he’s in Broadmoor.”
“Why?” Isabel demanded. “He’s not insane. Or a danger to anyone.” She yanked open a drawer and tugged a pair of latex gloves from the box. “Zander isn’t the Slayer, and this proves it. It was right at the bottom of the pile. My in-tray was empty when I left. This letter is dated ten days after I got suspended and Zander got arrested. Which someone would have seen if you all weren’t so busy with this junk mail stunt. So it’s been here for over a week!”
She dumped up two evidence bags on the desk. Finally, she pulled on the gloves. Carefully she opened the envelope and slid out the postcard she knew was in there. “We have a postcard. The photo of that is of a woodland path. There are trees to the right. There is a field with a wooden fence gate. And we have a couple of cows in the field.”
She turned it over. The back of the postcard was covered in the familiar black print.
I AM THE LORD YOUR GOD. YOU SHALL NOT COVET. 5-21.
She slid it into an evidence bag and handed it to the Guv. She pulled off her gloves and then paused.
“What are you thinking?” DS Painter asked.
Isabel looked at him. “Hmmm?”
“My wife gets the same look on her face when she’s working something out.”
“The gloves.” Isabel flicked her notebook to a clean page and then turned the gloves she had just taken off inside out. She pressed them onto the new sheet of paper. “We only found partials of Zanders prints on some cards, and they weren’t quite right.”
DI Holmes bagged the sheet and gloves. “I’ll have these checked as well.”
“Before you do, sir…” Isabel sat at the desk and opened a folder on the computer. She enlarged one of the earlier postcards. “The writing’s a match.”
DI Holmes picked up his phone. “You have copies of them?”
“Yes, I do, fortunately. I sent them to my own email when stuff started vanishing off the servers here. I’m printing all of them now.” She checked another folder. “That photo matches one taken from Zander’s phone after the fire. Again, that photo was taken in March according to the time stamp.”
DS Painter peered over her shoulder. “It should say where the photo was taken.”
“Nope. He must have geo-tagging turned off or it simply doesn’t work on this computer.”
DI Holmes put the phone down. “Arend will do the fingerprints himself. He says to give him twenty-four hours, maybe less.”
Isabel wasn’t at all happy. “What about Zander?”
DI Holmes looked at her. “He’s safe where he is for now.”
Isabel couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of her voice. “Really? And how do you know?”
“Not one to tempt fate, but he probably is safer there than in prison, to be honest. At least he’ll have his own room.”
Isabel looked down at her desk, not convinced. He’s not safe anywhere.
DI Holmes stared at her. “I need you to track down the location of the photo.”
Isabel resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “I already told you it’s not geo-tagged.”
DS Painter clicked his fingers. “I assume you still have the phone? Simply plug that in and receive the geo-tag off that.”
“I have no idea where it is. I wasn’t here.”
“Austin dealt with it,” DI Holmes said. “I’m off to the coroner. I need to get this over to Arend.”
Isabel looked over at Austin. “What did you do with Zander’s phone?”
“Bagged, tagged, and filed,” Austin replied.
“Where?” Isabel demanded.
Austin shook his head. “It’s with the rest of the Slayer stuff. It’s over in Fleet Street in their evidence room for now.”
DS Painter got to his feet. “Isabel will go and retrieve it all.” He held out the car keys.
Isabel shook her head. “Once I get my licence.”
“You only need your pass certificate. You can drive now.”
“I’m not insured, though. So I can’t.”
DS Painter rolled his eyes. “One lame excuse after another.” He teased. “Fine. I’ll drive.” He put the keys in his pocket. “Let’s go.”
~*~
The door to the cell opened. Zander kept his eyes shut. “Go away. I told you I’m not saying anything without my lawyer present.”
“Good job I’m a lawyer, then.” The amused voice echoed in the tiny room.
Zander opened his eyes. “Adam. You’re not a criminal lawyer.”
Adam undid the restraints. “They don’t know that. Nate rang, and asked me to pull some strings. He would have come himself, but they have a slight crisis at the office.”
Zander rubbed his wrists as they were freed. “Oh?”
“It would seem that someone got a letter and now the whole place is in a right tizzy.”
Zander sat up and winced as his head spun. “Remind me not to do that again in a hurry.”
As Adam released his ankles, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He rubbed his chest. “Is Isabel OK?”
“Your girlfriend is fine. She is very worried about you, however.”
Zander’s brain worked quickly. Another letter meant another victim. “What about her?”
“Nothing yet.” Adam shook his head. “They’re working on it.”
Zander leaned close to Adam. “I need you to listen. I was sent here.”
“Sent here?”
“Listen. I was sent here instead of back to where I should be. The doctor wanted me to stay in for a week, but some suit came in with the medics and moved me. They said I’m crazy. They keep trying to make me talk. But I’m not. Crazy, that is.”
“OK.”
Zander scowled. “Isabel isn’t safe. Ask Uncle Gee to put her and Gramps in a safe house.”
Adam looked surprised. “You’re overreacting.”
Zander shook his head vehemently. “There’s someone on the inside leaking information.”
“And you know this how?”
“The doctor knows stuff he shouldn’t. Stuff only we know. Only Uncle Gee, Is and I know. He has to be stopped. We’re getting close you see, and they can’t have that.”
Total confusion covered Adams face. “Who can’t? Zander you’re not making any sense.”
“Talk to Is. She’ll understand.” He groaned. “I can’t think with the drugs they’ve put me on.”
Adam frowned. “Who prescribed what?”
Zander shrugged. “I get
them four times a day. If I spit them out they inject it. It makes my head noisy. I can’t think or sleep. You have to get me out of here.”
Adam rubbed the back of his neck. “You’re safer here than in gen pop.”
“No, please you have to put me back. I have to finish this.”
“And if they kill you next time?”
“I can’t let them win.”
“I’ll do my best.” Adam went over to the door and banged on it. It opened. Adam stepped through it. “I need to see whoever is in charge of this place now. This man shouldn’t be in here.”
The door shut with a resounding bang.
Zander put his hands over his ears, trying to blot out the buzzing noise in his head. He began to repeat Psalm 23 over and over.
~*~
Isabel’s desk phone rang. “DC York.”
“Hi, this is Adam West, Zander’s lawyer. Is DI Holmes around?”
“No, sorry, he isn’t. He’s over at the coroner’s office with DS Phillips. Can I take a message?”
“Um, can you just ask him to call me back? It’s urgent.”
“Sure.” She glanced over at the main door. “Oh, hang on, he’s just walked in.” She held out the phone. “Guv, it’s Adam West for you, says it’s urgent.”
DI Holmes took the phone. “Can I have the room?” He glanced at the clock. “Actually, go home. All of you.”
“Sir, there is a possible murder going to happen and…”
“Go.” He ordered. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”
Isabel grabbed her bag.
Everyone headed out to leave.
DI Holmes glanced back at them. “And shut the door. Adam, what’s happening?”
Austin shut the door behind them and looked at Isabel. “OK, that was a bit weird. Do you want a lift home, Isabel?”
Isabel nodded. She’d far rather be working, but it didn’t look as if she had the choice in the matter anymore.
6
Just after ten am the following morning, Isabel glared at the report Arend Van Houten handed her. She looked up at him. “Is this thing for real?”
Arend raised an eyebrow. “Why would I give you a fake report?”
“To mess with my head? Or because you don’t want Zander proved innocent either.”
“Isabel, Zander is a friend. I wouldn’t do that.”
