by HH Durrant
‘We spoke briefly on the phone earlier about the murder in Hopecross,’ Rocco said sitting on the chair opposite his. ‘You were there, last night, keeping watch on a house down the road. Given the timescale we’re looking at you must have seen the killer pass by. We’re looking for a woman. We don’t know her age but she was possibly dressed as an elderly woman. She’d be going to a house three doors up from the one you were watching.’
Sandy Cole thought for a moment then accessed a file of photos on his computer.
‘This could be her,’ he decided. ‘I snapped her almost unconsciously – I was taking photos of anything that moved – the boredom,’ he laughed. ‘People think I live such a glamorous life but they’re quite wrong – it’s hard slog that wins a case in the end.’
‘Same with us mate,’ Rocco agreed.
‘But I do remember her, mainly because of the way she was walking. She had a stick and was sort of hunched, as if she was in pain. She was talking to herself as well, couldn’t hear what she was saying of course, I was too far away. Anyway it was more mumbling really, as if she was working something out.’
‘Did she have anything with her?’
‘A bag, quite small and tucked under her arm,’ Sandy said examining his images. ‘And the stick, she was leaning on it quite heavily too.’
‘Was the bag big enough to hold a weapon, a large knife for example?’
‘No, it was more like one of these little clutch jobs,’ he explained. ‘Here she is,’ he smiled beckoning Rocco to his desk.
‘Knifed then, was he?’
‘I’m not supposed to say, not yet anyway.’
The image wasn’t particularly clear but Sandy was able to enlarge and enhance it some as Rocco looked. It was definitely a woman. Her face was fuzzy, the light must have been bad but she had the right colour hair, grey and was wearing glasses.
‘It could be the stick, you know.’ He zoomed in closer. ‘See, it’s one of those old jobbies. They often had a blade hidden inside. That could be your murder weapon,’ he said, pointing it out on the screen. I’ll print you a copy,’ Sandy offered. ‘She was going three doors up you said – I’ve got a good one of his other visitor, and unlike this one she was a regular. I’ve been staking out that road for over a week now and she’s there most nights.’
‘Who is? Rocco asked puzzled.
‘She is,’ Sandy said giving him a second photo. ‘And quite a stunner she is too. She very often stays all night – something going on there, mark my words.’
So the good doctor wasn’t so unsociable after all – he’d obviously had a lady friend. But who was she and more to the point why hadn’t she come forward?
***
‘She let you out then,’ Ruth greeted him at her front door. ‘Come in.’
‘I do as I please, Lydia doesn’t run my life you know,’ Calladine replied miffed at her remark. ‘She’d like to but I can be quite firm when pushed.’
‘Glad to hear it. What’s she working on currently?’
‘My bloody cousin - isn’t she always. In fact we’ve just had words about it. We don’t often argue, but just lately she’s become real hard work. Lydia says he won’t talk to her. My gut tells me he’s up to something, but I can’t think what. I’ve a shrewd idea he’s using her to get to me again. I’ve no idea what he’d want but I intend to stay well away. I’ve brought a bottle of red,’ he proffered the bottle he had tucked under his arm. ‘It’s a good one.’
‘So I see,’ she smiled leading the way into the sitting room.
‘Hi Tom,’ Jake Ireson greeted him. ‘I’m going to leave you two to it.’ He began to gather up his stuff – a pile of papers and books. ‘I’ve got a mountain of marking to get through – mock ‘A’ levels,’ he grimaced.
‘He’s already eaten,’ Ruth told him. ‘So there’s no excuse, we can have that talk now.’
‘What talk,’ Jake asked?
‘Keep out of it,’ Ruth warned lightly. ‘Tom and I have some old business, family business that needs sorting.’
Jake gave them both a smile and went upstairs to his study.
‘You two getting on well?’
‘Very well, Tom. He’s really good to have around, and I wouldn’t want to be without him.’
Calladine wasn’t in the mood to listen to any lovey dovey stuff, not while things between him and Lydia were as they were. But he was pleased Ruth had found someone, of course he was - she deserved to be happy. But then so did he. All he seemed to do was go round in circles. First there’d been Monika, steady and always there, until Lydia had crashed into his life that was. Lydia was poles apart from Monika and the attraction had been instant. But now, he didn’t know how he felt. Lydia was demanding and he couldn’t deliver, not while he was working anyway. Things were only going to get worse.
‘You’ve got the place nice,’ Calladine noted, changing the subject. ‘You’ve decorated and bought some new furniture too.’
‘We chose the stuff together – we wanted to make the place ours and not just mine. We decided it made sense for Jake to move in with me,’ she explained. ‘His old place was a flat and he has the dog. I have a nice big garden here.’
‘Where is the dog?’
‘He’s had to have a small op, so he’s staying at the Veterinary Hospital tonight.’
‘Expensive!’
‘Insurance – we’re not that daft,’ she laughed.
‘So you and Jake – it’s looking serious then.’
Ruth smiled – if he had to put a word to the way she looked right now it would have been enigmatic. ‘Well,’ he shrugged, ‘are you two an item or what?’
At that she laughed and got a glass from the cupboard, a single glass, he noted wondering why she wasn’t joining him.
‘I certainly hope so – I really don’t want to do the next bit on my own,’ she told him with a small smile hovering on her lips.
She was trying to tell him something, he scratched his head – he didn’t get it. There was an odd sort of silence, he could hear her antique clock ticking, and she still had that weird smile on her face.
‘I’m pregnant Tom,’ she said at last, averting her gaze from his. There was a difficult few moments as neither knew how to follow that. Ruth had worried how he’d take it, and daren’t look at his face in case it showed disapproval.
‘Pregnant,’ he repeated as if he’d no idea what the word meant.
‘But don’t you dare tell anyone, it’s still early days,’ she handed him the glass and went to find a corkscrew.
Tom Calladine watched her walk into the kitchen. She’d just dropped a bombshell – she was pregnant, his Sergeant, Ruth Bayliss was going to have a child! How come he hadn’t guessed?
‘How did that happen,’ he asked following her and feeling foolish for asking a question like that? ‘I mean – is it what you want, a child I mean, at your age?’
She slapped him playfully with the back of her hand. It was okay – the awkwardness between them had evaporated as quickly as it had appeared.
‘Don’t be so rude, women today, they have kids at all ages. And we’re thrilled, both of us. Me and Jake – we couldn’t be happier.’
‘What will you do about work, what about us,’ he asked suddenly horrified at the prospect of losing her to domesticity and motherhood. ‘I don’t think I could work with anyone else,’ he admitted.
And that was at the crux of it. Ruth knew how well they worked together and how long that relationship had taken to hone. She laughed, but she was flattered that he could acknowledge that he needed her. They were a solid team that had been built over years of cracking cases and trusting each others judgement. She reckoned he was one of the best. She admired him, his intelligence and insight, the way he operated. As far as she was concerned no one else came close.
‘Tom Calladine where’s your professionalism?’ She teased. ‘Having a baby won’t finish me, idiot – I’ll be back. I’ll take a few months off then be back as normal. You’ll have
to make do with Rocco for a bit, that’s all.’
He wasn’t reassured. Motherhood, babies, they could do strange things to a woman’s reasoning powers. And never mind her – this revelation was messing with his head too.
‘I’m pleased for you both - of course I am, but are you sure you’ll cope?’
‘No, I’m not, but I won’t do any worse than every other mother,’ was her curt reply. ‘Come on, smile, you look as if you’ve just got the worst news ever. You must have realised that it was bound to happen sooner or later.’
‘I didn’t really think about it,’ he admitted. ‘I’ll miss you though. Rocco isn’t the same - he’s good, but not the same.’
‘You’ll be fine. Rocco and Imogen, they’ll both look after you,’ she reassured him. ‘Shall we eat, forget the baby news for now, we’ve got you to sort out, remember?’
‘Not sure I’m ready, if I’ll ever be ready. Do we have to spoil the evening and your great news with this?’
‘We’re not spoiling the evening,’ Ruth insisted plonking the tin box on the dining table. ‘It’s time you took ownership of that. You need to look at the letters and photos inside – really look.’
‘You said you had pie,’ he smiled.
‘Get yourself some wine and I’ll get it.’
She disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a steaming hot dish of shepherd’s pie. She gestured for him to sit and proceeded to serve it out.
‘You’re a good cook.’
‘I know, and you have eaten here before. You know I like to cook if I have the time. There’s some red cabbage there if you want some.’
‘Pie and red cabbage, reminds me of school dinners,’ he grinned.
‘This is nothing like a school dinner, don’t be so damned cheeky.’
Fifteen minutes late the pie dish was empty. Calladine helped himself to more wine and was tapping his fingers over the lid of the box.
‘It’s the fact that she never told me,’ he frowned. ‘Not even a hint in all those years. She never said a bad word about my dad either, well nothing above and beyond the normal spats all married couples have.’
‘She obviously didn’t hold it against him. She accepted you and what had happened, and got on with things.’
‘She must have been angry though, when she found out. He had another woman, for God’s sake, and not only that, he’d got her pregnant. Mum couldn’t have children, so she said in that letter, so she must have been jealous. My dad’s mistress has his child then expects my mum to bring me up.’
‘Things were different then, people’s behaviour was different. Unmarried mothers were frowned upon, and she loved you, remember. You were the innocent party, an infant, probably quite cute too,’ Ruth allowed with a smirk.
‘Probably very cute in fact,’ he grinned back. ‘I still think this is a bad idea. I should leave things alone. I should take this tin box and stash it in my attic, out of sight.’
‘That won’t make it go away, Tom. The issues will still be there.’
‘What issues, I’m not going to make an issue of anything.’
Just at that moment his mobile rang, it was Rocco.
‘I’ve got something Guv,’ he began excitedly. ‘Doctor Ahmed had a lady friend. She went to his house the night he was killed. I got a photo of her from Sandy Cole and Joyce recognised her straight away, so we know who she is. ‘
‘Have you spoken to her?’
‘No Guv, she’s on duty at the hospital. I was going to go and speak to her but I thought I’d better tell you first. It’s his Registrar, Samantha Hurst. But Hurst is her married name, Guv. Prior to that she was Samantha Buckley, you know one of the Buckleys.’
The Buckley family was like royalty around here. They owned a large purpose built factory on Leesworth Industrial Estate, and employed a large chunk of the local population. The woman would have to be interviewed, and she might even become a suspect but for now, they’d tread carefully.
‘In that case we’ll go see her together in the morning, Rocco. You’ve been at it all day so go home. Good work, you’ve done well.’
‘What’s Rocco got?’ Ruth asked.
‘Our unsociable doctor had a woman in his life – a woman nobody told us about, not even Ms. Celia Downs, and I can’t believe she didn’t know.’
‘Why, who is she?’
‘His Registrar, Doctor Samantha Hurst – the former Samantha Buckley no less.’
Ruth’s face fell then went several shades paler than normal.
‘One of the pharmaceutical Buckleys?’
‘I believe so, yes,’ he confirmed.
‘In that case we might have a problem.’
Chapter 8
‘Why – we’ll go easy, we’ll do our best not to upset anybody.’
‘No, it’s not that,’ Ruth cleared her throat. This was one time in her life when she really wished she could have that glass of wine.
‘You need to know about Eve Walker,’ she told him.
‘No I don’t, I’ve told you what I’m going to do.’
‘No, you don’t understand. You must listen to me. You can’t go haring off tomorrow without knowing the truth.
‘You’re freaking me out, what truth – this?’ He asked banging his hand on the box. ‘This is my personal life - it won’t interfere with my work, I won’t let it.’
‘This time it might. You see she’s not Walker anymore, she got married years ago.’
‘Ruth, please – I can live without this.’ It was making him edgy - he still wasn’t ready for the truth about his past. Why couldn’t she leave it like he’d asked?
‘No you can’t live without it because of one very good reason. She’s Eve Buckley now.’
‘Buckley – as in ….?’
‘Yes, Tom, as in the pharmaceutical Buckleys. So, you see, you do need to know because this Samantha, the woman you’re going to interview in the morning, is your half sister.’
He was momentarily stunned. A half sister – a sibling, the idea terrified him. How was it that he kept discovering female family members he never knew he had? First his daughter Zoe had turned up out of the blue, now suddenly, he has a sister.
‘I’m sorry Tom, but you can see why I couldn’t just leave it. You might not want to know them, but Eve Buckley will know all about you.’
Ruth was right, she would know, and that might put him at a disadvantage. What if Samantha was involved in the murders? Now that would really cause him a problem. He scowled, why now? Why all this when he wasn’t up to dealing with it. Did she know about him? His stomach churned - he was trying to think. What did he know about that family? There was another one – he’d seen his name in the local paper – ‘Entrepreneur of the year’ or something. The son, Simon Buckley had run the factory since the death of his father. So he had a half brother as well. It was too much - he wasn’t ready to sort this just yet.
‘I’m sorry Ruth but this is a too much to take in. I think I’ll just go home. I need some time alone to work all this out. My head’s spinning.’
‘You can’t drive, you’ve drunk most of that wine and you’re probably a bit tiddly. Jake will take you, he needs to get petrol for tomorrow anyway,’ she said, going off to get him.
It had been a night and a half as it was and he couldn’t take any more so he hoped Lydia had calmed down. He didn’t relish the idea of arguing afresh about Fallon, not now, not with all this on his mind. Perhaps he should just tell her, get it all out in the open.
‘Take it with you,’ Ruth said pushing the tin box into his hand. ‘It can’t do you any more harm. You know its secrets now.’
‘Mores the pity,’ he said kissing her cheek. ‘Thanks, lovely meal. I’ll be better company in the morning, once I’ve mulled it over, and no need to drag Jake out, I’ll leave my car here and walk,’ he told her. ‘It’s hardly miles, is it - just along the High Street.’
‘You’ll be alright?’
‘Course – what d’you imagine I’m going to do?
I’m not a child, you know. I just want to clear my head. Sort all this out,’ he said, shaking the box.
He turned his overcoat collar up against the biting wind, tucked the box under his arm and stuffed his hands in his pockets. Ruth pregnant, he never thought he’d see the day. He smiled, it was good, it really was, she’d make a great mum and Jake would be great too. They were good together, pity he couldn’t find that special someone like Ruth had. Lydia wasn’t settling down material, she was far too ambitious. She wanted fun and excitement - he was merely a means to an end, a channel for the information she needed, sobering thought.
It was only Wednesday night but the High Street was busy. A group of men were noisily drawing attention to themselves outside the ‘Weaver’s Arms’ pub. Someone shouted and he heard a bottle smash. It wasn’t that late but it was already shaping up to be a wild one.
Calladine turned down a side street - he’d go down the back lane and reach his home that way. He wasn’t in any mood to run the gauntlet of the other pubs strung along Leesdon main thoroughfare.
‘Detective Inspector,’ a deep voice intoned from in front of him.
He’d got his head down against the wind so he hadn’t noticed the pool of light coming from the shop window. Amaris Dean was sweeping up the rubbish from the footpath outside her shop.
‘You’re open late,’ he noted.
‘We’ve had a development session here tonight,’ she smiled.
He’d no idea what she meant but he nodded and smiled back anyway. She looked nice, for a woman who must be close to his own age she was in good nick. Tonight she wore that long lustrous hair up in a sort of roll at the back, it showed off the delicate bone structure of her face. She wasn’t wearing much makeup just a little lipstick and something that seemed to make her eyes look all smoky and sexy.
‘You keep long hours, a bit like me,’ he couldn’t think of anything else to say. He was tongue tied like an inept teenager talking to a girl he fancied, for the first time. ‘You still have to travel home then?’
