“What if it has? You don’t intend to stay a DC all your life, do you? You’re good, Rocco. You should think about it.”
“I do, but for the time being, this nick and the team suit me fine.”
Now Ruth felt guilty. He probably thought she was being disloyal. “I’d like to feel like that, but you don’t have the same pressures as I do.”
“What pressures?”
“A child, an ambitious partner who’s been offered a post elsewhere. It takes some dealing with, believe me.”
“Where is this post? Not far, I hope?” Rocco looked concerned.
“Some posh school down south,” she said. “Jake wants us to move. It would mean a complete change for both of us. He’s keen, but I’m out of my depth. I’ve tried talking to him, but he’s not for changing his mind.”
“You’re not seriously considering it, the pair of you? The boss won’t cope without you.”
She shrugged. “He might have to.”
Now Rocco looked really worried. “You can’t leave. The team won’t be the same without you.”
“Don’t underestimate yourself, or the others,” Ruth said. “You’re good. Alice is more than promising. You’d all do just fine.”
Rocco’s smile had now become a cheeky grin. “There was something else, something between Turner and you. What do they call it? A frisson, that’s it. You liked him.”
“Rubbish! There is no room for another man in my life right now, even if I wanted one. Which I don’t.” Ruth felt her face grow hot. She was behaving like a bloody teenager!
“It’d solve the problem of the move though.”
Ruth opened her mouth to reply just as Julian came into the room. He looked worried. Professor Julian Batho was the Duggan’s senior forensic scientist. Up until her untimely death at the hands of a killer, he and DC Imogen Goode, another member of Calladine’s team, had been partners. Recently, Julian had appeared to be finally recovering from his grief. Today, however, his face was drawn, as if he hadn’t slept.
“We need to talk,” Julian said. “Is Tom around?”
“He’s ill, Julian. Birch sent him home yesterday. He’s got shingles. If we need his input, I can always ring him.”
“We will need him.”
Ruth stared at him. “What’s happened?”
“After Alice called, I went down to the crime scene. I looked around, took samples. I also checked the record for the case she told me about.” Julian walked across to the incident board. “You’ve seen this.” He tapped the photo of the debris strewn across the floor. “At first I thought it was just more rubbish left by fly-tippers. But I was wrong.”
Ruth caught her breath. So Alice was right. “It can’t be! I’ve just been looking at the file. That case was wound up. The killer was put away.”
The look on Julian’s face told her otherwise. “A soft toy, the stuffing ripped out of it and refilled with the victim’s hair. It’s also smeared with her blood. There is no doubt. It’s George Norbury’s trademark.”
Ruth stared at him. “You and I both know that can’t be. Norbury’s locked up, has been for years. Tom worked the case. He helped to put him away.”
“Nonetheless, the MO is his. The toy, the branding, the slit throat. Nailing the victim to something made of wood.” Julian tapped the photo again.
“Copycat?” Rocco suggested.
Julian shook his head.
“Professor Batho is right,” Alice said. “In the end, Norbury confessed. From the transcript I read, it would seem he was only too happy to do so. He gave the impression that he was proud of what he’d done. Although the press reported on it, certain details were never released. No protracted trial, you see. One of those details was the soft toy and hair thing. Only a handful of people knew about that. But he always left a toy, usually placed in the victim’s hand. The only difference in this case is that it was on the floor.”
“The body’s been there a while,” Ruth said. “The wildlife will have got at it. That toy could well have been moved.”
“Natasha tells me the victim’s hair had been cut,” Julian said.
Ruth nodded. “And he saw her off by slitting her throat. Too many similarities. I don’t think this is coincidence.”
“We need to speak to Tom urgently,” Julian said.
Ruth went to the phone. “I’ll ring him now.”
Chapter 8
Day 2
Ruth was up and ready to leave by seven thirty the next morning. “You’re going into work early,” Jake said from beneath the bedclothes.
“Sorry, Jake, heavy day ahead. No Tom and a difficult case. Julian was desperate to speak to him yesterday, but Tom wasn’t answering his phone.”
“Guessed as much. You were tossing and turning all night, and mumbling in your sleep.”
“I rang him half a dozen times yesterday. I can’t understand what he’s up to.”
Jake sat up. “More than likely he took a shedload of painkillers and got to bed early.”
“Shingles or not, I’m calling round at his before I go into work.”
“Don’t get too close,” Jake said.
“You’ll have to see to Harry and get him to nursery. Okay with that?”
Jake ignored this. “Don’t forget, I have to make my decision about the job by the end of this week.”
Ruth sighed. “Not now. I can’t think of anything but this case. We’ll talk later.”
“You’re getting bogged down again. You and I need to consider what is really important.”
That was all very well, but what about her job? That was important too. Until Jake had come along, it had been her whole life. Why didn’t he see that? Jake wasn’t a selfish person, but he was hell bent on dragging them all down south.
Ruth drove the half mile or so to Calladine’s house. The backstreet where he lived was quiet. No through traffic roared to and fro. Everything looked as usual. His car was parked in front of the house and the curtains were open. That should mean he was up and about.
“Ruth!” A woman was calling to her from a doorway opposite.
It was Layla, standing with her dressing gown pulled tight around her. “What have you done with him?”
“He’s ill,” Ruth called back.
Layla beckoned her over. “He’s not there. The place is exactly as he left it two days ago. Even the breakfast dishes are still in the sink. I’ve got Sam with me. Poor love was starving.”
That wasn’t right. Was he so ill that he’d had to go and stay with Zoe, his daughter, or even his mother, Eve? But wouldn’t he have told Layla? “Have you checked with Zoe?” Ruth said.
“I rang her. She hasn’t seen him in over a week. He’s not with Eve either.”
Ruth needed to get into the house. “In that case, I’ve no idea what’s going on. Do you have a key?”
Layla darted back inside and returned with it. “I thought he must be away on some case. But he always rings me, so I couldn’t understand it. I’ve tried ringing his mobile, but it’s dead.”
Ruth’s stomach turned over. She’d no idea what this meant, but it didn’t sound good. Where was he? Why hadn’t he got in touch? Ruth let herself into Calladine’s house, picking the mail off the mat and depositing it on his hall table. It was March and still chilly, and the place was cold. The heating hadn’t been on for some time.
“Tom!” Ruth began to mount the stairs, her nerves jangling. “I’m coming up.” Something was terribly wrong.
Layla came up behind her. “I’ve had a good look round already. He isn’t here.”
“Our DCI sent him home to rest. He walked that day. I remember making fun of him. He had an apple and an orange for his lunch too.”
Layla smiled. “The healthy lifestyle we’re trying out.”
“His car is still parked outside.” Ruth pushed past her and went outside to take a look. It appeared to be okay. She tried the doors. They were locked. “This hasn’t moved. Everything is as he would have left it that morning to come t
o work.”
“Have you seen this?” Layla pointed to the front, just below the headlight on the near side. “If I’m not mistaken, that’s blood.”
Ruth looked at it. Layla was right. The patch was quite large. Fortunately, it hadn’t rained in over a week and it had dried on the paintwork. Ruth bent down and peered under the car. Several centimetres in and hidden from view lay a mobile phone. Taking an evidence bag from her pocket, she picked it up. “This is Tom’s.”
Layla’s voice shook. “What’s happened? He’s been attacked, hasn’t he?”
Ruth touched her arm. “Best not jump to conclusions.” But she knew that something serious had happened here. Tom had been injured. During the scuffle he’d dropped his phone and it had slid under the car.
“Don’t touch anything, Layla,” Ruth said. “I’m going to get a forensic team down here.”
* * *
“I think Calladine has been attacked and kidnapped, ma’am,” Ruth said.
Birch looked sceptical.
“He left here, as you instructed. But he only made it as far as the front of his house. He never went inside. There’s blood on his car and I found his mobile phone underneath it.” Ruth held up the evidence bag. “We should investigate. I want forensics to take a look.”
“And they will,” Birch said. “We’ll do all we can to find him.”
But the words sounded hollow. Birch was holding something back. If the something was about Tom, then Ruth wanted to know. “Do you know anything about this that we don’t, ma’am? I for one am worried. The team are very fond of the DI. They’ll want to know what’s happened to him.”
Birch looked away. “Let’s get the facts first.”
“Is Calladine working on some case that we’re not aware of?” Ruth said.
“No. He is missing. Leave it at that for now.”
The DCI went back to examining a file on her desk. She obviously wasn’t going to say anything further. Ruth was dismissed.
None the wiser, Ruth went back to the incident room. They still had a murder to investigate, not that Ruth felt like getting stuck into it now. All she wanted to do was find Tom Calladine.
She looked around at the others. “Did the boss say he was going anywhere when he left?”
“No. Straight home was the order from Birch. He’d been going over the Costello file in readiness for the trial,” Joyce said. “He was in his office most of the afternoon. It was only when he surfaced that I noticed the rash on his face. Once Birch saw him, she sent him home.”
With so much happening, Ruth had forgotten about the trial. Vincent Costello had chanced his luck once too often, and this time there was enough evidence to put him away. Calladine was due to appear for the prosecution early next week.
Ruth stood still. Was that it? Had Costello arranged Tom’s disappearance? Is that why Birch had been so cagey? Without a word to the others, Ruth went back to the DCI’s office.
“The Costello trial, ma’am. Is it possible that Calladine’s disappearance is connected?”
Birch said nothing.
“Costello still has his dodgy contacts. He could arrange for Calladine not to turn up in court. If that happened, is there any chance Costello could walk?”
Birch sighed. “You’re not going to let this drop, are you?”
“I can’t. If it was one of us, Tom wouldn’t rest until he’d sorted it.”
“Ruth, I am going to have to trust you. What I am about to tell you must go no further. Do you understand?”
Ruth nodded.
“You are right about the Costello angle. But it’s not what you think. Calladine has not been kidnapped. We believe he’s disappeared of his own volition.”
“You think he’s done a runner? That he doesn’t want to give evidence?” How could Birch get it so wrong? It was obvious to Ruth what had happened. “But the blood, ma’am. I found his phone where he dropped it during a scuffle.”
“You have no evidence of that.”
“Forensics will get the evidence,” Ruth insisted.
“Possibly. But it is our belief that the evidence will have been staged to confuse the issue.”
Ruth couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “There’s blood, a lost phone and he’s nowhere to be found! Tom wouldn’t disappear and say nothing! It’s plain what has happened. He’s been taken. Nothing else makes any sense. He has a home, family and friends. Not to mention the job!”
“We don’t like this any more than you, Ruth, but the fact remains. Calladine has chosen to disappear.”
Ruth was mystified. “Why would the powers that be even think that of Tom?”
“There is a piece of this puzzle that you are unaware of . . .” Birch’s voice faltered.
Moments ago, she’d been angry. Ruth had been afraid that she’d overstepped the mark. Now all that was gone. Birch looked decidedly nervous. “Go on, ma’am,” Ruth said.
“Calladine has gone. If certain lines of enquiry go as we think they will, it is unlikely that he’ll be back.”
Ruth was aghast. Not be back? “You can’t know that. What lines of enquiry?”
“I can’t discuss it. Believe me, I’m not happy about this either.”
“Why are you so sure that it’s Tom who’s in the wrong?”
“Because we’ve been given information. It comes from a reliable source and can be verified.”
“What information?” Ruth asked.
“I can’t discuss the details. But we believe he has disappeared so that he won’t have to give evidence at the trial.”
Ruth shook her head. “Tom would never do that!”
“I’m afraid he has,” said Birch. “We suspect that he’s thrown his lot in with that villain.”
“It’s a scam. Someone’s trying to blacken his name.”
“In that case, they are doing a good job of it. We have information that a sum of one hundred thousand pounds has been deposited in his bank account. I don’t need to say that that information must not leave this room.”
This took a second or two to sink in. A hundred thousand pounds, Ruth repeated to herself. The words made no sense. “Do you have proof of that?”
“Not yet. A warrant is being arranged to gain access to his account. Then we’ll know for sure.”
“You think Calladine took a bribe?” Shaking her head, Ruth stepped back from the desk. “You’ve taken some gossip as gospel. Why would you do that?”
“We have no choice. But it is not gossip. The source is trustworthy. For the time being, we are keeping an open mind. But the fact remains that Calladine cannot be found, or reached by phone. He has disappeared. That much is irrefutable.”
“You don’t know him at all, do you?” Ruth said almost in a whisper.
Birch was grim. “I know the facts, Sergeant.”
“He’s been set up. Tom would never take money to stay silent, I’d stake my life on it. You haven’t even investigated properly yet. Do you think that because of his connection to Ray Fallon he is open to bribery and corruption at the hands of any passing villain!”
Ray Fallon had been one of Manchester’s most notorious gangsters. And Calladine’s cousin. Something the DI had found difficult to live down.
Now Birch was angry. Her expression was thunderous. “You would do well to remember your place,” she said with feeling. “I am not the one in the wrong here.”
“Neither is Tom Calladine. He’s been kidnapped. It’s as clear as daylight. This is Costello making sure he doesn’t make it to the trial. He has engineered this. Tom is innocent. He is one of our own, for goodness sake!”
But Birch looked at her stonily. Whatever the DCI and her seniors had been told, it had to be pretty damning. Ruth wondered who their source was.
Birch tapped the file with a pen. “There will be a full investigation. An SIO has been appointed and will be arriving soon. Make him welcome, and make sure he gets all the help he needs. But the team must not know why he’s here.”
Ruth was re
eling. This was some sort of nightmare. “How do I do that? The team will ask what he’s doing here.”
“Tell them he’s looking at your current case.”
“Who is it, ma’am?”
“DCI Greco.”
Chapter 9
Birch had instructed Ruth not to tell the team. Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t. Ruth didn’t have the words. But what was she supposed to tell them about the imminent arrival of Greco?
Her head was all over the place. But one thing she was sure of, Calladine had not taken a bribe. That begged the question of what that much money was doing in his account? The only explanation she could come up with was Costello. What Ruth didn’t understand was why Birch and those upstairs didn’t see things the way she did.
She went slowly back to the incident room. “How are we doing?”
“No luck with tattoo parlours,” Rocco said. “But I’ve had a closer look at the image Natasha gave us. I think it was done by an amateur.”
“You’re talking a friend? Someone with a DIY kit?”
“It would be a simple enough job,” he said. “It’s not a complicated design.”
“It doesn’t help us much.” Ruth sat at her desk, feeling sick. She couldn’t concentrate. Rocco was discussing his theories with Alice. They were keen, cracking on with the task in hand. All Ruth wanted to do was find Calladine.
“Joyce!” she called out. “Did the guv say anything about the Costello case? Give his opinion on the outcome, for example?”
Joyce shook her head. “He wasn’t well. He didn’t say a word for most of the afternoon. Just read through the file and then got off home after Birch told him to.”
It didn’t make any sense. She could understand Calladine being kidnapped and held until the court case was over. But why the money? Could Costello even lay his hands on that amount of cash these days? Most of the villain’s wealth was derived from drug dealing. His bank accounts would have been frozen. But if not Costello, then who?
“What about the kid?” Rocco asked. “Do you think she’s up to talking to us?”
DEAD BAD a gripping crime mystery full of twists Page 4
