Well, that was a huge relief. But his instincts told him that if it had really come from Lazarov, he hadn’t sent the toy for no reason. It had to be a warning. “Thanks, Roxy, I owe you. I still haven’t decided whether to tell Julian.”
“Your decision. He doesn’t know what I’ve been up to since yesterday.”
“Okay. For now, let’s keep it that way.”
Calladine decided to give Greco an update and see if he had any new information. Greco was at his desk as usual. How he managed this aspect of the job puzzled Calladine. The man had been an excellent detective and, as far as he was aware, had liked the day-to-day detective work. Deskwork was the price he had to pay for the Grace debacle, he supposed.
He told Greco about Roxy’s findings.
“Good, but you’ll have to tell your daughter to be on her guard, Tom,” Greco said firmly. “On the plus side, I’ve spoken to our colleagues in Huddersfield, and they are unaware of any activity by him or his gang since the time we encountered him.”
“That means nothing, the man has plenty of others to do his dirty work. Lazarov is a seasoned villain.”
“What action d’you want to take?” Greco asked.
“The gift is a threat, Lazarov showing me how easy it would be to harm those I love. I have no choice but to accept that my family is in danger. Having a new baby makes Zoe vulnerable. A threat against her presses all the right buttons as far as I’m concerned.”
Greco nodded. “I understand. I’d feel the same in your shoes.”
“If this is down to Lazarov, I doubt he’ll leave things as they are. I expect there will be other attempts,” Calladine said soberly.
“Okay, we won’t take any risks. I’ll appoint a family liaison officer to the case,” Greco said.
Calladine didn’t argue. It would ease his mind to know there was someone with Zoe, closely watching what went on. “D’you have anyone in mind?”
“Yes, Amanda Knight. She’s an excellent officer. We need to get this organized quickly. She’ll work unobtrusively, perhaps undercover within your daughter’s business, and I want her to start immediately.”
“Thanks, Stephen. That takes the pressure off.”
Back in his office, Calladine called Zoe on his mobile. She answered in a whisper.
“I’ve just got her off. What is it?”
She sounded tired. He didn’t want to burden her with this, but what choice did he have? “That toy, I’ve had it checked and it’s fine. But make no mistake, it was a warning, and I doubt it’ll be the last. If you or, heaven forbid, Maisie was to be injured because of me, I’d never forgive myself. Be careful, Zoe, anything else comes from Lazarov, put it in the garage and call me.”
“Why would anyone want to harm an infant, Dad?”
“It’s me he’s getting at, not you. Just be careful and tell Jo as well. I haven’t said anything to Julian. I’m still debating that one.”
“He’ll flip. I can see his reaction now. Leave it, please.”
“There is something else. We’re getting you some protection, a family liaison officer called Amanda Knight. You have plenty of room so I suggest she stays with you. You can tell anyone who asks that she’s a friend come to help out with the businesses while you and Jo get used to being new parents. Her job is to see and hear things you and Jo might miss. She knows what to look out for. She’ll also keep you posted with events.”
“Isn’t that taking things a bit far, Dad? I’m not sure about this. Is it absolutely necessary? Julian is bound to ask questions, what do I tell him?”
“Julian won’t know her. Like I said, tell him she’s a friend, and that you’re taking time off to be with Maisie. I want you to accept this, Zoe. I need to know you have someone with you who knows the ropes.”
Zoe was sensible. When she thought it through, she’d see he was right.
“Okay, I’ll give her the spare room. I just hope she likes newborns, that’s all.”
“I’ll see you in the morning. Any problems, ring me.”
The FLO was more for his own peace of mind than Zoe’s. She wouldn’t appreciate the danger. He’d give it a week or so and see what happened. If there were any more gifts or incidents he wasn’t happy with, Calladine would make his own arrangements. Above all else, he needed to know that Zoe and her family were safe. Calladine had a long-standing friend, Ronnie Merrick, who used to be a security officer with one of the large banks in Manchester. These days, apart from a little private investigating, he was practically retired, but he was still able to handle himself. Calladine decided to ring him later and put him on standby.
Chapter Six
Mother’s Kitchen was busy for a weeknight. Well placed on Lowermill High Street, it appeared, when Calladine stepped inside, to be the preserve of young, up-and-coming business types. For several minutes, he hung around in the entrance feeling decidedly out of place. He scanned the room and saw Kitty Lake at the bar. She beckoned to him.
She smiled. “Mr Policeman, I did wonder if you’d come. I mean, I prang your car and then have the cheek to ask you out as recompense.”
“The car is old, and it’s been pranged many times before,” he said.
“I’m forgiven, then?” she asked demurely. “I would like us to be friends. I’m new to the area and so far I’ve hardly met anyone.”
An offer the bemused Calladine couldn’t refuse. He still didn’t understand why this attractive, expensively dressed younger woman would want to know him at all.
She smiled. “I’ve booked us a table for half eight. I thought you might like a drink first.”
Calladine nodded. “A beer, please,” he said to the barman. “I’ve not been here before. When did you open? It can’t have been long ago.”
“Oh, it’s not my business,” she said hastily. “I merely manage the place, but I am enjoying it. I’ve been here about a month. The owner will open another one in Hopecross if this does well. If that happens, I’m hoping he offers me a partnership. I’m ready for a new venture.”
Calladine grinned. “Ambitious women scare the hell out of me.”
“I’m not that scary, believe me. I’m just trying hard to make friends locally and fit in.”
“Apart from me, who else have you met?” he asked.
“Ronan next door has been very helpful. Ronan Sinclair, the curator of the museum.”
“I don’t think I know him.”
“He’s been a godsend. He’s allowed me to leave a bunch of leaflets for the restaurant in the museum reception area. If this business is to take off, I need to get the locals in, make it a regular haunt.”
Calladine cast his eyes around the stylish interior. “If I remember rightly, this building used to be the old bank.”
“Yes, then it became a small market with various outlets and now this. It’s had a complete refurb, and it’s worked too, we’re attracting the kind of customers we want.”
“That include me?” he asked. “Looking at your clientele, I definitely don’t fit the profile.”
Kitty laughed, shook her head. “You fit in fine.”
“Now I know you’re lying. I’m not young or trendy enough for starters. Look at them in here.” He nodded to a table of young twenty-somethings, all in smart suits with preened hair. “There’s no way an old fogey like me fits in.”
“This lot here tonight are Ronan’s doing. He suggested I offer vouchers for cut-price drinks to selected businesses and addresses in the Leesworth area. They’ve come along for a nosey, but I can’t see them becoming regulars.”
“Selected. I see. Sinclair suggested you target those people he reckons have money.”
“Something like that,” she said with another smile. “Like I said, he’s a godsend, and he knows his stuff. He’s full of bright ideas and keen to see the venture work so that I get the opportunity to invest and change my life.”
Calladine rolled his eyes. Keen to get close to Kitty more like.
She tapped his arm and put a finger to her lip
s. “D’you see that woman at the corner table, the one with the young man hanging on her every word?”
Calladine glanced across. The woman was about forty, dark-haired and wearing a suit. She did look vaguely familiar.
“It’s Gloria Golding, the restaurant critic. Another of Ronan’s ideas, but one I could do without. She’s a personal friend of his, apparently. I must say, having her here tonight, poring over our offerings, isn’t doing my nerves any good.”
Calladine looked again. So that’s why she seemed familiar, he’d seen her on the box. “You’re hoping for a good write-up then?”
“We’re relying on it, Tom. She tells the world we serve up rubbish and we sink like a stone. That woman is ruthless. She’s eaten her way through most of the Manchester restaurants and rubbished at least half of them.”
“I’d no idea this business was so cut-throat.”
“Well, now you do. I guess all we can do is serve up our best and keep everything crossed.”
“If he’s so ambitious, why did the owner choose to bury the place in a backwater like Lowermill? Surely the money to set up this and the one in Hopecross would have been more than enough to start up in the city, the Northern Quarter in Manchester for instance. Eateries and wine bars do really well there, I’m told.”
“He wasn’t keen, and neither was I. I’ve put in enough years working amid the hustle and bustle of the city and I needed a change. The countryside suits me better.” She nodded towards the dark, shadowy hills in the distance. “I don’t recall much about it, but my mother used to take me on picnics up there when I was a kid. We’d get the train from Manchester and make a day of it. Even then I loved the village atmosphere, the narrow streets and stone houses. When I got the opportunity to run this place, I just had to take it.”
“Have you got somewhere to live?”
“I’m dossing in the flat upstairs for the time being, but I’m in the market for a property. I want the perfect place, a stone cottage by the canal. Somewhere quiet and quaint, but I wouldn’t mind moving up there if something came up.” She nodded towards the hills.
Calladine laughed. “Don’t be taken in by the quaint old villages round here, because it’s not that quiet, believe me. You can find it up in the hills, but a word of warning, some properties up there don’t even have a full set of utilities.” He grinned. “I could take you now to a cottage that’s still lit by gas.”
She laughed. “I’m not sure I want to take the rural life that far. A beam or two, an inglenook fireplace, but I do need mod cons.”
“My daughter’s partner is an estate agent, the one along the High Street. Go and see Jo, mention my name and I’m sure she’ll do a good job for you.”
“Actually, I have seen somewhere, and not far from here, just along the canal.”
“Canalside Cottages?”
“Yes. Want to come and look at it with me tomorrow lunchtime?” She gave Calladine a sideways look. “I’ve passed by loads of times and I really like the look of the place, but I’d value your opinion.”
Calladine nodded. “If I can make it.” He wasn’t about to mention that Zoe lived slap bang in the middle of that row of six stone cottages.
“Come on. Even policemen have to eat. Call it lunch.”
“We’re working on a new case,” Calladine said. “Meals will be on the hoof for a while. I’ve got your number, so if I can make it, I’ll ring.”
Kitty seemed to accept this. She pointed to a table. “That’s ours. Shall we sit down? I’ll order a bottle of wine and you can tell me all about you and your work.”
Calladine followed her to a table by the window that overlooked a small illuminated garden at the rear of the building. “Not much to tell,” he admitted. “I’m a detective inspector based in Leesdon. I’ve always been in the police, never wanted to do anything else.”
“Exciting work. Not your regular nine-to-five.”
“You might think that, but believe me, chasing villains is no picnic.”
“You don’t look bad on it, and you don’t look like a policeman either.” Her eyes twinkled. “You’re far too cuddly, not hard-looking enough.”
Calladine didn’t know whether to be flattered by the remark or not. Did “cuddly” refer to his expanding waistline?
“Besides the job, tell me something about you,” she said. “Where do you live? Local?”
“Very local. Born and bred in Leesdon and I’ve lived in the same house most of my life. Nothing special, a stone terrace round one of the backstreets, just me and Sam, my dog. But the set-up suits me fine.”
“And you told me there’s no Mrs Policeman . . . ?”
He smiled. “There isn’t. But I do have history. I was married and divorced by the time I was twenty-one. Some going, even for me.”
“Where is she now?”
“My ex-wife died. That’s when Zoe, my daughter, came north to find me. Up until then I didn’t even know she existed.”
“So many lost years,” Kitty said wistfully.
“Indeed, but now Zoe has a little one of her own for me to fuss over. So I’ve been given a second chance.”
As fast as tables became vacant, they filled again. Business had to be good. He was engrossed in conversation with Kitty when the sound of cutlery hitting the wooden floor got his attention. He turned to look. A young couple had knocked into a table while trying to creep out. Kitty was on her feet in an instant.
“It’s okay, they’ve paid the bill,” a waiter murmured to her.
“Then why sneak out like that?” she asked.
“Because they’re two of mine.” Calladine grinned at the pair and beckoned them over. “Meet DC Rockliffe and DC Bolshaw — Rocco and Alice.”
“Sorry, sir, we were hoping you wouldn’t see us,” Alice said, blushing.
They were both dressed up, and Alice looked stunning. Instead of the prim pleated skirt and plain white shirts that made up her work uniform, she was wearing a tight, low-cut dress. She had make-up on, too. She’d made a real effort and looked quite different. It could only be for Rocco’s benefit. “Are you two, er . . . ?”
“We were hoping to keep it to ourselves,” Rocco admitted. “I know it’s frowned upon.”
“You’re the same rank, and anyway it doesn’t bother me, Rocco, so don’t stress.”
“You don’t mind, sir?” He looked surprised.
“None of my business.”
“It’s just . . . we know what happened to DCI Greco.”
Calladine shook his head slightly. Stephen Greco’s dalliance with Grace had been a very different story. “He was a DI at the time and Grace a DC. When it came out that she was pregnant and he was the child’s father, it sealed his fate at Oldston. You two don’t even come close.” He smiled.
They looked relieved. “We’re hoping our private life doesn’t become the latest gossip around the station,” Alice said, a question in her eyes.
Kitty Lake was watching all this with an amused look on her face. “Tom,” she said, taking his hand. “Leave the youngsters alone.”
“It’s all right,” he said. “I can be discreet.”
Chapter Seven
Day Two
The following day, Calladine and Ruth met at the Duggan Centre, where Natasha was doing the PM on the murdered woman.
“Guess what I discovered last night,” he said as they went in.
“You went out with that new woman, so who knows? Could have been anything.”
He noted the edge to her voice. “You don’t approve?”
“Not my call, but you do know that the smack she gave your car was deliberate?”
Now that did surprise him. “Kitty’s not like that.”
“I was watching from the sixth-floor deck of Heron House and I saw the lot. Believe me, she was parked up, just waiting for her opportunity. The woman made a beeline for your car the moment you set off. I’m not blind. I know what I saw.”
“Some women can’t resist me,” he joked. “It was just
her way of getting my attention, that’s all.”
“In your dreams,” Ruth scoffed. “She’ll have an ulterior motive, and whatever it is, you won’t like it.”
Calladine said nothing. His instincts said there was nothing to worry about and he liked Kitty. But Ruth was rarely wrong. She’d seen what happened and had no reason to lie to him. He decided to exercise caution with Kitty until he knew more about her. He banked the incident along with the teddy bear gift. “I’m seeing her again. She wants me to view a house with her at lunchtime.”
“We’re not likely to get any lunch. We’ve got a new case and it looks like a nasty one to me.”
“I enjoyed last night,” he said sulkily. “I don’t meet many women these days, and Kitty is a looker. I was hoping . . .”
She punched his arm. “Grow up! You’re behaving like a love-struck teen.”
“She’s very attractive. She runs that new restaurant, Mother’s Kitchen, in Lowermill.”
“Is that what you discovered?” she asked.
“No, my gossip is much juicier than that. Rocco and Alice are seeing each other.”
“You sure? I’m surprised. Rocco’s quite a catch but Alice, well, she’s a bit of an acquired taste.”
“She looked bloody gorgeous last night, Ruth, take my word for it. There was no trace of ‘work Alice’, and Rocco looked smitten to me.”
“They’ve given nothing away.”
“Thought they’d get into trouble. I told them that’s not the case, but they still want to keep it quiet.”
“But you’ve told me.” She giggled.
“You don’t count.”
* * *
The two detectives were on the viewing platform, looking down at the body lying on the slab. Natasha, who had already started the PM, looked up at them. “Whoever did this spared her nothing. She was beaten hard about the body, incurring several broken bones. But it was a heavy blow to the head that killed her. There is what looks like rust embedded in her scalp, and the skull is fractured in two places. I’d say the weapon was possibly a wrench or hammer of some sort.”
DEAD SORRY a totally addictive crime thriller with a huge twist (Calladine & Bayliss Mystery Book 11) Page 3
