by Clare Revell
“How so?” Zander glanced sideways at her. He’d begun to trust her hunches and the odd comments she came out with. OK, sixty per cent of the time it was rubbish, but the other forty per cent she was spot on.
“She had a totally different career path to the others. She’s a professional working in an office. All the others worked in the caring profession.”
“So he broke the mould slightly this time,” DS Philips said. “Mind you, she was caring for her parents up until they moved into the home.”
Isabel nodded. “She was still on both the New Wine and Keswick lists though.”
“Have you narrowed them down further?” Zander asked.
“No. I haven’t had time.” She tugged the pen from her handbag and scribbled on her hand to remind her.
DS Philips snorted. “I told my girls they’d get blood poisoning from that because they do it all the time.”
“How’s your wife?” Zander asked.
“Due soon. Three more weeks give or take.”
“And then the fun begins,” Isabel commented. “Feeding, changing, no sleep.” She frowned. She looked downwards. “She’s still the same height and hair colour as all the other girls. Did we get any feedback from the press conference?”
“The tip line has gone crazy. But nothing concrete that I know of.”
“Are we following those calls up?”
“The Guv assigned Robert and Mark to that,” DS Philips said.
Isabel rolled her eyes at Zander and turned away. “That’ll be a no then. What’s the point in having a tip line?” She wrote something else on her hand then reached out to the intercom button. “Does she have a necklace with her personal belongings? Her mother was asking if she could have it back. It’s a locket with photographs inside.”
Arend shook his head up at the window. “Nothing here. She wasn’t wearing a necklace when I examined her at the scene.”
“Are you sure?” Isabel’s hand rose to her own pendant. “Her mother said she never took it off.”
“Quite sure.”
“OK.” Isabel added something to the list on her hand.
Zander frowned. “For goodness sake, woman. Use your notebook. That’s why we have them.”
She glared at him. “I would, only I don’t know where it is.”
Huffing, he withdrew his notebook from his jacket pocket and thrust it at her. “Use mine.”
Isabel took it and started to scribble onto the back page.
Zander’s phone beeped. He read the message. “My car’s fixed and ready to be collected.”
“Yeah, well, try not to break it this time.”
Zander noted that although Isabel was there, she was doing anything to avoid watching what was happening on the table below them. His phone beeped again. He glanced at the screen and scowled. “Sorry, I have to take this.”
~*~
Isabel rolled her eyes as Zander left. “For crying out loud. Is he glued to that thing or something?”
“Possibly,” DS Philips commented. “What’s going on with you two? Neither of you are your normal, chirpy selves.”
“He’s been off with me the past couple of days.” She sighed. “I must have done something to annoy or upset him, but I have no idea what.”
“That’s interesting,” Arend’s voice cut through her train of thought.
“What’s that?” she asked.
“He cut her nails. Really short. He didn’t do that with any of the others.”
“Maybe she put up a fight,” Austin said. “Scratched him or something.”
“Quite possibly. I’ll see if I can get DNA from what’s left, but I’m not holding my breath. The red lacy underwear looks to be the same as the others were wearing.”
Isabel closed her eyes. Maybe they were going about this all wrong. What if there was no link between the murders and everything they’d uncovered was just circumstantial? Like that fire at Gran’s place, because nothing added up there either. She retied her hair into a messy bun. OK, it might not be the most professional hairstyle, but it was far too hot to wear it any other way today.
Zander came back in, face like thunder.
“Is everything OK?”
“No.” His voice was as short as his temper looked.
“What’s up?”
He shook his head. “Not here.”
It was all Isabel could do not to sigh. The man really could be annoying at times. Although the amount he was on his phone it probably wasn’t anything important. More than likely it was a bill he hadn’t been expecting to have come out of the account today or someone trying to sell him life insurance or something stupid like that.
She turned her back to the window. She was fine so long as she didn’t have to watch what was going on. “I was thinking about the fire at Gran’s…”
“Not again!” Zander glared at her. “Just drop it. It was an accident.”
“Fine, whatever.” She scribbled on the back on her hand again. She pulled her phone out and pretended to read a message. “I have to go. I’ll get the bus back to the nick.”
“Where are you going?” Zander asked.
“Check something. See you back at work.” She headed out quickly, before anyone could stop her or ask more questions.
Isabel wasn’t surprised and was actually relieved when Zander didn’t follow her. She reached the bus stop and swallowed two pain reliever tablets just as the bus arrived. The headache had been growing all morning. She didn’t really have anything to do. She just needed space from Zander and his bad mood. She was entitled to be grumpy, she didn’t feel well. But Zander? He was just grumpy for no reason whatsoever.
She climbed on the bus and sat downstairs near the front. Zander’s notebook poked out of the top of her handbag. She flicked through it. His handwriting was neat and printed. None of it was in cursive script. The handwriting on some of the postcards and envelopes had been printed as well.
Strange, nothing in his notebook related to the current case—with the exception of the notes she’d taken that day. It was all stuff she didn’t recognise. She put it away and drew out her phone. Best tell him where his notebook was. Couldn’t have him losing it as well. She still had no idea where hers was. Although to be fair, she’d forgotten about it and hadn’t checked at home in case it was there. Tugging her phone from its hiding place, she typed a quick message.
I have your notebook. Remind me to give it back to you.
Her gaze fell on her hand. Tip line. Wine list. Fire. Necklace.
It didn’t take Zander long to reply.
OK. Will take you to the hospital when I get back.
Isabel hissed in exasperation.
It's fine. There's no need. I can do it. Going there now.
Well in a bit, she added silently. She put her phone away. Seriously, what was it with the men she worked with? They either treated her as the little woman who was incapable of doing her job or a child. Or both. Well, she’d had enough.
Her phone rang. For a moment, Isabel was tempted to ignore it, but checking it, the number wasn’t Zander’s, so she answered. “DC York.”
“Hi, this is Joseph Ranklin,” a clipped male voice said. “Iona’s husband. You said I could call at any time if I needed something.”
Isabel shoved her irritation with men to one side and adopted her professional persona. “Of course, it’s not a problem. How can I help?”
“I got Iona’s possessions back, only her necklace is missing. I gave it to her as a wedding present, and she was rather fond of it.”
Isabel gazed at the writing on the back of her hand. “Her necklace?”
“Yeah, I was wondering if I could have it back.”
Isabel tucked her phone under her chin. She pulled Zander’s notebook from her bag and flipped to the back. She grabbed a pen. “Of course. Can you give me a description of it, and I’ll track it down and get it back to you as soon as possible.”
“It’s a gold cross with a diamond in the centre. It has her initials engraved on the b
ack. Umm, thin gold chain. She never took it off.”
Isabel shivered. Mrs. Leaney’s voice echoed in her mind. Esther never took her necklace off.
“I’ll look into that right away for you, Mr. Ranklin. I’ll call you back as soon as I find anything out.” She hung up and tossed the phone and notebook back into her bag. With the pen, she changed the word ‘necklace’ on her hand into necklaces. Glancing up, she realised the bus was almost at the nick. She rang the bell. Blood tests could wait. This couldn’t.
~*~
At her desk, Isabel pulled over the pink A4 notepad that Zander hated. She wrote quickly. Fire, New Wine, tip line, necklaces.
DI Holmes appeared as if from nowhere. “Did you get to the hospital?”
She shook her head. “No, Guv. Something important came up. I came back to deal with it whist the others are watching the postmortem.”
He frowned. “Those blood tests are important.”
“So’s this.” Isabel swung her chair to face her superior officer. “Mrs. Leaney asked if she could have her daughter’s necklace back. Apparently Esther never took it off.”
DI Holmes leaned against her desk, crossing his arms. “So?”
“So, I asked the coroner at the postmortem and there wasn’t a necklace on the body or recovered at the scene. Seems pretty strange as she never took it off.”
“So, maybe she took it off to shower and forgot to put it on again. I do that with my watch sometimes.”
Isabel shook her head. “I shower with my necklace on. Then on the way back here, I had a phone call from Joseph Ranklin, Iona Kevane’s husband. He asked where his wife’s necklace was as it wasn’t returned with the rest of her belongings. Get this—she never took it off.”
The look on DI Holmes face changed from mild irritation to intrigue. “Have you checked the other victims yet?”
“Just about to do that, sir.”
He nodded curtly. “Let me know what you find out and then get yourself to the hospital. Or I’ll throw you in my car and take you myself.”
Isabel glowered over her desk at his retreating back as he headed to his office. “You and Zander both,” she muttered. She pulled over the desk phone and picked up the receiver. If she took long enough over this there wouldn’t be time for blood tests today. “OK, here goes nothing.”
Twenty minutes later, she put down her pen and looked at the pink paper in front of her. All five victims wore necklaces they never took off and none had been returned or found at the crime scenes. That was more than a coincidence. That had to be part of his MO, and more than likely, the souvenir he was keeping.
Robert and Mark clattered into the room, talking about some woman they’d passed on the street.
“Are you both still monitoring the tip line?” she asked.
Robert rolled his eyes. “It speaks. It’s not just a pretty face.”
Mark laughed. “Shame she can’t do anything else though. If we’d been in charge we’d have caught the bloke by now.”
Isabel bit her tongue in an effort not to snap. “Are you monitoring the tip line?” she repeated.
Robert ignored her. Instead he sat at his desk and pulled over the phone.
“Don’t ignore me,” Isabel snapped. “I’m trying to work here, and you’re meant to be helping.”
Mark tossed an A4 pad of paper at her. “Here’s the logbook. Have at it.” He sat on the corner of Robert’s desk and whispered something. Both men laughed.
Isabel sighed. She wasn’t sure how much more of this she could take. Maybe she ought to put in a transfer to another nick or just find another job where sexism wasn’t rampant. She opened the book and started going through it. “Are these calls recorded?” Again she had to repeat the question before she got an answer.
“Yes. Answerphone. You know how those work, right? Someone rings, leaves a message. We play it back every couple of days and write stuff down if we think it’s important.”
“What about the tapes? Are they kept?”
Robert snorted. “Do I look like a cassette deck? No.” He turned his back on her, waving his hands disparagingly.
Isabel sighed. She rested her head on her hand, elbow propped on the desk as she read. Tears burned her eyes, but she refused to let them fall and prove she really was the weakest of the team. She tuned out the laughter and snide comments she knew were aimed at her.
Lost in her work, she jumped as something thudded onto the desk in front of her. “What?”
“What are you doing?” Zander demanded.
“Working!” she snapped. “Why?”
“Have you been to the hospital yet?”
“What is it with everyone and the flaming hospital and blood tests? You and the Guv can go have them if you’re that bothered by them.”
Zander straddled the chair in front of her desk, staring at her. “What’s more important than your health?”
“Catching the Slayer before he kills again. All five victims are missing necklaces. All of them never took them off according to the relatives I’ve spoken to. None were on the bodies or recovered from the crime scenes.”
DI Holmes did his magic appearing act again. “Did you say all of them?”
“Yes.” Isabel pulled over her pink pad. “A gold cross with a diamond, two lockets with photos, a silver leaf on a silver chain, and a gold rose on a gold chain. All missing.”
“Do you have photos?”
“I will have. I’ve asked the relatives to send me copies. As the girls never took the pendants off, any photos of the victims will have the necklaces in. It’ll also give us up to date photos of them alive.”
DI Holmes nodded. “Good. Now go to the hospital.”
Isabel glanced at her watch. Good it was gone five. “They’ll be shut. I’ll go in the morning.”
“I’ll take you on the way in first thing,” Zander told her.
She rolled her eyes. “No, you won’t. I’m a big girl. I can take myself. I apologise for putting this case above everything else. I also apologise for being a woman and not understanding the importance and order things ought to be done in.”
“Enough.” DI Holmes sounded irate now. “Zander will take you at eight o’clock tomorrow morning. End of discussion.” He paused. “And I am missing something here. Is someone telling you that being a woman in my department is wrong?”
She shook her head refusing to answer. She turned back to the papers on her desk with a scowl. “Why aren’t the tip line tapes kept?”
“They should be,” DI Holmes answered. “Why?”
“I asked, and got told they were listened to, anything important written down, and then erased.”
DI Holmes spun and stared at Robert and Mark.
“You gave us two tapes. One in the machine and one being checked,” Mark said, shooting Isabel a look that had it been a loaded gun would have killed her.
“So get more tapes,” DI Holmes said sharply. “You know where they’re kept.” He turned back to Isabel. “Why?”
She pointed to an entry. “This is timed at 23:45 three days ago. Before Esther’s body was found. Male caller. The entry reads ‘Just wondering if you found her rose necklace yet? It’s a pretty expensive trinket to lose.’ That would have been Brit’s—the gold rose.”
DI Holmes turned back to Robert and Mark a scowl etched on his face.
Robert held up his hands. “Hey, we didn’t know, all right? We just listen to the tape and write stuff down, when we get the chance, on top of other work. If these two idiots were doing their jobs properly, checking things and passing information along like they should be, then it might make things smoother. But then what do you expect with a woman running an investigation? Especially one that’s green.”
Isabel rose, smashing her chair into the wall behind her. Enough was enough. If they wanted this conversation in front of DI Holmes, then so be it. She let her temper loose, tossing her pink notebook and USB pen into her bag. “Really? You’re just hurling insults when you’ve been too busy
to help any time I’ve asked? Even when the Guv told you to help me, you didn’t. Then maybe I’ll just leave the big boys to it.”
“Maybe you should,” Robert shot back. “We’d solve this thing a lot faster without you.”
“Fine.” Isabel stormed across the room and left, slamming the door behind her. Salt stung her eyes again, but she wasn’t giving in. Not anymore. They could have this case, her job, and whatever else they wanted. But her dignity was hers and it would remain intact. From now on she was standing up to anyone who got in her way.
14
Zander groaned as Isabel stomped from the room. This had been building for a while and he was glad in a way that things had now come to a head in front of the Guv.
“Typical hormonal woman!” Robert muttered.
“That’s enough!” DI Holmes roared. He glanced at Zander. “Zander, get after her.”
“Do you want me to bring her back?”
DI Holmes shook his head. “No. I’ll speak to her tomorrow. Just calm her down and make sure she’s all right and gets home safely.” He turned to Robert and Mark. “You two, my office. Now.”
Zander grabbed his jacket and car keys and ran down the stairs to the main entrance. There was no sign of Isabel there, at the bus stop, or anywhere else. He rang her, but the phone went straight to voicemail. Not that turning off her phone surprised him. He’d do the same thing if the situation were reversed. “Isabel, it’s me. Call me back will you? It’s urgent.” For a moment he wished he had installed a tracker app on her phone. He could trace it anyway, use police methods to find her phone, but that was a bit extreme, not to mention requiring paperwork, when all she’d probably done was go home. The woman was upset, not about to harm herself. At least he prayed she wasn’t. He checked some of the local shops she used, but she wasn’t in any of those.
Collecting his car from the garage across the street cost him time he really didn’t have. He drove to Isabel’s house and rang the bell. No one was there, or at least not answering the door if she was. He banged on the wooden frame. “Isabel. Please,” he yelled. Still no response. He heaved a sigh. “OK, have it your way.” He wrote a note and shoved it through the letter box.
