by Clare Revell
Zander winked at her. “That’ll be me, then.”
She grinned. “And you can have the short, chunky, but incredibly sexy one.”
Zander pouted. “But Austin just isn’t my type.”
“Oy!” Isabel grabbed a pen from her desk and threw it at Zander. It hit his chest, bouncing harmlessly off the protective vest he still wore under the shirt. “You are so rude.”
DI Holmes raised a hand. “Enough. You are in a hotel for the next week. I’ll worry about the weekend when it gets here. Isabel, I need you to concentrate.”
“I’m fine. I am,” she said, snatching her pen back from Zander. She glanced at DS Painter. “You found anything?”
He nodded. “He’s not married. Never has been. I checked the registry office as well.”
“Then he lied,” she said flatly. “He told me he had a wife and two children. Said his wife wanted to meet me. He had this whole story about how she wouldn’t be a wicked stepmother or anything. He also said the DNA confirmed I was his daughter, but I haven’t seen any results and nor has Dr. Chandler.”
DI Holmes frowned. “You’ve done a background check on the Chief Super?”
Isabel’s phone rang and she snatched it. “DC York.”
“Hi, it’s Dr. Chandler again. That DNA test was never done. The lab is still waiting on his sample apparently.”
“I see. Thank you.” Isabel dropped the phone onto its base. “He never submitted his DNA for the test. He lied about that as well. What else is he covering up?”
DI Holmes returned to his office, coming back a moment later with a mug in an evidence bag. “He used this earlier. He was here about half an hour before your call came in. Test this.”
DS Painter took it. “I’ll take it over to Arend myself and get him to do it.”
Isabel nodded. “Good idea as he already has my DNA on file there.”
DS Painter handed DI Holmes a sheet, taking the cup in exchange. “My statement. Now you just need Isabel’s.”
“I was in the lounge,” she said, scribbling on a piece of paper at the same time. “A brick got chucked through the window which broke. There was a lot of smoke from the grenade thing that followed the brick. I called 999 and also called DI Holmes. The cops came. The Guv came. He yelled some and brought us back to work.”
DI Holmes face was a mixture of amusement and frustration. “I didn’t yell, tempting though it was, because the pair of you drive me to distraction.”
Zander grinned. “I’ve always wanted to go there. Is it far?”
DI Holmes groaned. “Do some work.”
Zander turned and studied the incident boards. “That’s a mess. It needs redoing from scratch. It might shed more light on the case.”
“Have at it.” Isabel tugged a folder from the top drawer of her desk and dropped it onto the clean surface of Zander’s. “I made a start over the weekend. I was on call anyway.”
“I had wondered where you’d disappeared to. I thought perhaps you were ignoring or avoiding me.”
“Nope. Just trying to solve this case.”
DI Holmes turned back. “Isabel, what happened to the report on the poison hemlock that Frank did?”
She shrugged. “I emailed it to you weeks ago. But it’s probably lost along with everything else. I’ll go and do it from scratch.”
“You will?”
She nodded. “Yes. That way I’ll know it’s been done properly and thoroughly.”
“I’ll take you,” Austin said.
“Uniform and a marked car would be better,” DI Holmes said.
Isabel shook her head. “They’re not a taxi service. I’ll go by bus, collect the data, and compile the report. Then I can go back home and email it to you for tomorrow. I assume it’s the same place as before?”
“It is.” DI Holmes checked his watch. “Nothing will be open now. You and Austin can do it first thing in the morning. I want you all to go home and come at this fresh in the morning.”
~*~
Zander tapped on Isabel’s door in the Elmhurst Lodge. He could have used the connecting door but didn’t want to do that just in case she was changing or something.
Isabel opened the door. “Hi. Come in.”
“Have you got your laptop?”
She nodded as she closed the door. “I have. Why?”
“Fancy some off the record research into a couple of high-ranking senior officers?”
She grinned. “Why not? I like living dangerously.” She flipped up the lid of the laptop. “So who are we spying on first?”
“DI Holmes.”
“Ohhh, goody.” Isabel typed his name into a search engine. “OK, he has several social media sites. All of them are locked tight and friends only.”
“He probably did that after I told you how to.”
“Perhaps.” She hit images on the search engine. “However, these ones aren’t. Him with wife, kids, wedding…Wait a sec. What’s his wife’s name?”
“Adeline.”
Isabel searched. “Her accounts aren’t locked down. She tagged him in the ones that are showing up.” She clicked back to the main search page. “There are a few news articles. Commendation, award for bravery. Wow. He has the Queen’s Police Medal. I wonder what he did. I’ve got his service record. Oh, wow, look at this news report.” She turned the screen towards Zander. “He was first on the scene when the Prime Minister was assassinated.”
Zander nodded. “Both he and his wife were there. He doesn’t like to talk about it.”
“Not surprised. Don’t think I would. OK, he was made acting DI when DI Welsh went on leave and was confirmed in the position three months later.”
Zander’s phone beeped. “A reply from Pastor Jack. The Guv’s been an elder for ten years. Not a bad word to be said about him.”
“No speeding fines or points on his licence. No disciplinary hearings, or anything else. Who’s next on the hit list?”
Zander laughed. “Maybe I should have packed the dart board. It’s not too late to run home and fetch it.”
“Such a child.”
“Actually, I’m really thirsty, and I know the bar does coffee. We could run down there, get some, see if they have biscuits, then come and finish this.”
“One minute. Let’s just get this searching for Ashton Clydesdale.”
“Fine.” He tapped his fingers on his thigh. “One, two, three…”
Isabel hit search. “Nothing.”
“Ten…There must be. Did you spell his name correctly?”
She shook her head. “A-s-h-t-o-n C-l-y-d-s-d-a-l-e.” She hit enter with a flourish. “See, nothing. The bloke has no online profile anywhere.”
Zander frowned, thirst forgotten for a moment. “Let’s try accessing his police service record.”
She passed him the laptop.
He hit a few keys. “Pretty highly decorated. Perfect record…” He peered at the screen. “Umm, Is, you might want to take a look at this.”
“What am I looking at?”
Zander enlarged the photo. “Does that look like our Ashton Clydesdale to you?”
She squinted at the screen. “It’s a very old picture if it is. It might be. We’ll have to go in and pull his original file and—”
The lights went out.
Zander flipped up the torch app on his phone. “Well, this is cosy. Your computer is out too.”
“Yeah, the battery is naff, so I have to run it off the mains alone. So much for saving the link. Can you remember where you found it?”
Zander nodded. “Yeah. So, coffee? Assuming the bar is still open.”
She yawned. “Actually, I might just turn in. It doesn’t mean you can’t go down for a drink.”
Zander toyed with the idea for about ten seconds. “Actually, a proper bed, my own room. No one snoring or banging or deciding to do a room search at stupid o’clock still sounds pretty good. I’m not sure the novelty will ever wear off.”
Isabel laughed. “I’ll set my alarm for 4:00 AM t
hen.”
Zander tossed a pillow at her. “Do that and I might just kill you myself.” He pushed to his feet and, using his torch app, headed to the door. “Night, Is.”
“Night, Zander.”
He headed into his own room and locked the door. Still using the torch, he crossed the room to the window.
Isabel opened the connecting door. “Zander, there are lights outside.”
“Yeah, I just noticed that. Maybe a fuse has gone or something.”
“Maybe. Anyway, night.” The door closed.
Zander sat on the bed and sucked in a deep breath. He listened. Silence. Nothing, but the sweet, sweet sound of silence.
12
Isabel woke just before her alarm went off. She wanted to go for a run before work. It didn’t matter that the Guv had said no, she was doing it anyway. She tapped on Zander’s door. It took him a minute to answer. She should have gone through the connecting one. “Hi, are you awake?”
Zander frowned. “No. I said not 4:00 AM,” he grumped.
“Actually, it’s five past five. I figured a run and coffee before breakfast.” She held up the travel cups from work.
He shook his head. “Not only did the Guv say no, my broken ribs and recovery from surgery also say no. Remember?”
Isabel had forgotten but wouldn’t admit that. “Then I will run to the coffee shop and bring you back a hazelnut flat white. I won’t be long.”
Zander waved at her and closed the door.
She grinned and set off, trotting down the stairs and out of the hotel. She ran along the main road, pausing only at the lights, and carried on until she reached the precinct and her favourite coffee shop. They opened really early to catch the joggers and the early morning commuters.
Sure enough the assistant manager, Ceryn, was just opening up.
Ceryn smiled. “You’re up early, Isabel.”
“Long day ahead. Can I have a hazelnut flat white and my usual, please?” She held out the cups. “The hazelnut in the blue cup and both extra hot, please.”
Ceryn took them. “Sure.”
Isabel moved to the counter. She was hungry and breakfast wasn’t for another two and a half hours. “Can I also get two bacon baps?”
“Ketchup or brown sauce with those?”
“One of each.” Isabel paid and waited a couple of minutes. “Thank you.” She shoved the food into her pack and holding a cup in each hand, set off running back to the hotel. She tapped on Zander’s door.
He opened it, fully dressed. “It’s still too early.”
She held out a cup and then retrieved the food. She held the bags out. “Red or brown sauce?”
“Brown.”
“One on the left.” She slid the pack off her shoulders. “Did you get the computer working again?”
“Yes. However, what is there now is not what we saw last night.”
She frowned as she sipped the coffee. “Are you sure you have the same page?”
“Yes,” he answered, around a mouthful of bacon. “I used your browsing history to find it.”
“So?” she asked.
“So someone got in last night and changed the records after we accessed them.”
“We need to speak to someone at the Met, from his previous posting.”
Zander nodded. “Maybe we should ask DS Painter to do that. He has contacts there.”
“Sounds good. I’m out all morning on a poison hemlock hunt with Austin.”
“That sounds fun.” He took another bite, managing to splurge brown sauce down his shirt. “I’m sitting on a desk again.”
“Just don’t break it.”
“If I do, I shall blame this very yummy bacon roll you bought me.”
“Hmmm.” Isabel tried not to laugh. “Perhaps you ought to blame the full English breakfast, with cereal, toast and several mugs of coffee you’re having for breakfast.”
“Nope.”
She sipped her coffee again. “So, other than sitting on your desk, what else do you have planned?”
“I want to go over everything. I reckon you’re right and we’re missing something. Something so simple it’s been right in front of us the whole time.”
“Finally, someone is listening to me.” She paused while she chewed her roll. “Can I say something without getting shouted down or told I’m being stupid?”
“Go for it.”
“Only no one thinks I’m being serious. So don’t do it just to humour me.”
Zander raised an eyebrow. “Is, are you trying to tell me that you’re the Slayer?”
She groaned. “See?”
Zander wiped his hand over his face, removing his smile and replacing it with a serious expression. “You can tell me. Whatever it is, I’m here for you.”
Isabel sucked in a deep breath. She honestly wasn’t sure he’d believe her either. “OK. Every single victim looks like me, knows me, or interacted with me at some point with the exception of maybe two or three. My hair was the same. My eyes are the same colour. My faith—right down to the holiday we’d all booked at the end of July. We need to go back over that New Wine list and remove everyone left who has different coloured eyes or hair that isn’t naturally dark or long.”
Zander sat silently.
She gave him a minute to respond then rose. “Or not. Thank you for listening. So I’m catching the bus to work now. That way I can clear my desk before I head out for the day with Austin.”
“You need breakfast first.”
“I’m not hungry. Had that bacon roll.”
“Then you can sit and watch me eat. I want you to tell me more about this theory of yours. And before you say anything, no I’m not humouring you. Something’s been bothering me about this whole investigation from the start. I’m going back to the start and that means considering everything. No matter how stupid the Guv thinks it is.” He paused. “Besides, we haven’t crossed him off the list of potential killers yet.”
~*~
Zander sat in the squad room by himself. Everyone else was out doing something or other, with the exception of the Guv who was tackling a paperwork mountain in his office. Zander’s pen tapped out a rhythm on his desk. Tuneless humming kept pace as his gaze focused on the incident boards in front of him.
He shook his head, running a hand over his again beardless chin. This wasn’t helping. He whipped his phone from his pocket and took several photos of the boards. He didn’t want to lose a single piece of information, but at the same time, wanted to cut it back to the bare basics, because the answer was there staring them in the face. He had to take out all the extraneous bits, leave the bare essentials, and he’d find it.
Finished with the photos, Zander grabbed a cloth and moved over to the boards, intending to wipe them clean.
“What are you doing?”
Zander jumped, heart thudding in his chest. “Guv, stop with the creeping up on people. Isabel is convinced you go into stealth mode at times.”
DI Holmes chuckled. “Nah. I have an invisibility cloak so I can stalk the pair of you and make sure you’re working and not slacking off.”
Zander looked as innocent as possible. “Guv, I’m hurt. I’m always working. Is and I actually spent a good part of last night and early this morning going over stuff. DS Painter has gone to talk to a contact for me.”
Zander wouldn’t add the reluctance the man had shown over the suggestion. After all, if Zander and Isabel were wrong, they’d get fired and take DS Painter down with them.
“Oh?”
“I had a lot of time to think the last few weeks. And something Isabel said earlier struck a chord. The answer is right here on this board and has been all along. I want to go back to basics and remove the irrelevant stuff.”
DI Holmes shook his head. “No. You’re off the case. You are still grieving. Not to mention personally involved.”
He sighed. “Guv. Things were over between Rosa and I long before she died. But yes, this case is personal. Just like every other one I’ve ever work
ed. This one…” He tapped the board. “This one is different. The Slayer is making a point here. He’s taunting us, picking on Is and myself in particular. I want to know why and stop him.”
He turned to the board, feeling the cloth in his hand. “I want to turn this on its head. Instead of the victim’s name across the top I want them down the side. And just certain basic information on here. As I said, go back to the beginning. I have photos of them as they are now.”
“Don’t wipe them. We’ll get new boards. I don’t want to lose all of this, even if you do have photos. I’ll even help you.”
“Thanks, Guv.” Zander headed to the door to find one large board. He just hoped the Guv wasn’t helping to dig his own grave.
~*~
Isabel walked into the sixth chemist shop of the morning. She and Austin still had twenty-seven on the list. And that didn’t even include all the smaller ones in the tiny outlying districts of town, or the ones in the supermarkets.
Austin glanced at her. “Why don’t I simply ring Frank and ask him which chemist it was? He did the original report. Chances are he’ll remember.”
Isabel nodded. “Brilliant idea. You ring him and I’ll ask the pharmacist as we’re here now.” She headed over to the counter and pulled out her ID. “Morning. DC York of Thames Valley CID. Could I speak with the pharmacist please?”
The assistant nodded. “One moment.” She vanished behind the door at the back of the counter.
Before long, a woman in a white uniform came over. “Hi, can I help you?”
“I hope so. We’re trying to track down pharmacies that stock poison hemlock.”
The woman shook her head. “We don’t. Not sure if anyone does around here. You might be better checking health food stores.”
Hiding her frustration at that response, Isabel smiled. “Thank you.” She headed back to where Austin stood. “Any joy?”
“Frank says it was Lathes Pharmacy on Duke Street.”
“Where’s that?” She thought she knew this town, but was fast discovering she didn’t.
“Upper Tidmarsh. One of those small, outlying districts you mentioned when we left.”
“Upper Tidmarsh?” Why did that ring a loud bell in her mind? She’d come across that somewhere recently, but where? And in connection with what?
