Blood & Guts

by Ed James

  Blood & Guts

  Vicky Dodds book 1

  Ed James

  Contents

  Copyright

  About Ed James

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Next book

  Afterword

  Other Books By Ed James

  Tooth and Claw

  Copyright © 2021 Ed James

  The right of Ed James to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or transmitted into any retrieval system, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Cover design copyright © Ed James

  About Ed James

  Ed James writes crime-fiction novels, primarily the DI Simon Fenchurch series, set on the gritty streets of East London featuring a detective with little to lose. His Scott Cullen series features a young Edinburgh detective constable investigating crimes from the bottom rung of the career ladder he’s desperate to climb.

  Formerly an IT project manager, Ed began writing on planes, trains and automobiles to fill his weekly commute to London. He now writes full-time and lives in the Scottish Borders, with his girlfriend and a menagerie of rescued animals.

  Prologue

  Christmas Eve, 2015

  Teresa slalomed through the traffic lights, shooting along the road, the surface shining like glitter. She barrelled past the train station, for once not surrounded by roadworks, and passed the building site for that posh museum and that big old boat. The Discovery or something. They’d visited on a school trip and her mum and dad had taken her too, and she’d been so bored the first time, let alone the second.

  Then the car jerked to the right and the steering wheel slipped through her fingers.

  STEER INTO A SKID.

  Her dad’s advice rattled through her skull, so she fed the wheel clockwise, like she was back in a driving lesson, scooping the hard plastic.

  ‘Teri!’ Carly rested her hand on the dashboard, like she was bracing for impact. ‘Careful!’

  ‘I am careful.’ Teresa looked over at Carly in the passenger seat, all dolled up like she was going to a nightclub. Blonde hair trussed, waaaaaay too much make-up. But it worked for her. And Teresa was so jealous. Still, who was she to say anyone wasn’t being careful? ‘God.’

  ‘Just look ahead, aye?’

  Teresa focused on the road, on her steering, faster than before. Who the hell was Carly bloody Johnston to criticise her driving? She hadn’t even passed her test! Teresa didn’t even slow at the roundabout by the hulking great Tesco, just slid round it.

  ‘Teri, I swear to God…’

  Teresa kept on along the road, a massive straight line, with just one pair of red rear lights up ahead. Nobody about, Christmas Eve quiet. Everyone tucked up at home, in bed or watching cheesy crap on the telly. Some lights hovered in the darkness over the river, a late train coming up from Edinburgh maybe.

  Out of nowhere, a car battered out of the supermarket car parks, the wheels screeching as it fled away towards Perth.

  ‘Jeez!’ Carly was arching round, her mum’s perfume washing all over Teresa. She could taste it, that bitter tang that made her sneeze. ‘Think he’s robbed the place?’

  Teresa slowed for this roundabout, indicating right and checking both other exits. ‘Just a car dick making up for lost inches.’

  Carly’s throaty laugh echoed around her skull. ‘Classic.’

  Teresa eased into the car park for the two supermarkets. Back the way they’d come. Tesco was the bigger of the two and still had a few punters walking around. Probably sad old men like Teresa’s dad, out buying last-minute presents because they just didn’t give a—

  Nope.

  He was in her head all the time already. Tonight, he was getting banished.

  Teresa took the exit for the smaller supermarket. She used to come here with her dad when it was a DIY place, but now it was an Ashworth’s. And there were hardly any cars, just a big empty lot of nothing. The store was long shut, the outside lights off, but people were still working inside in a dim glow.

  It made her heart flutter.

  Hayden would be out soon. He’d get in her car, and they’d drive off into the night, heading wherever they wanted for a few hours.

  Carly was jerking her head around, hungry eyes scanning the car park, her frown growing in time with Teresa’s slow progress down the lane. Then she smiled, probably the exact same smile as Teresa had on her face, but definitely for the same reason. Meeting her man. Carly clapped her hands then pointed to the side. ‘There he is!’

  One of those silver cars that all the taxi drivers used in Dundee. The engine was pluming exhaust into the dark night.

  Teresa pulled up alongside, just a space between them. But the car looked empty. ‘Where is he?’

  The frown was back on Carly’s forehead. ‘I… I don’t know.’

  ‘The engine’s running so he must be near.’ Teresa kept looking over at the supermarket, trying to spot Hayden’s casual stride, but the staff were all still inside. She grabbed her mobile from the cradle and there was a text:

  Be another twenty minutes, babe.

  Teresa felt herself shiver. The only good thing was it was sent ten minutes ago. Focus on the positives!

  Carly’s door was open and she was peering into her boyfriend’s car. Still hadn’t told anyone his name. God, such a drama queen.

  Teresa got out into the freezing cold. All she had on was a dress – her fleece was in the boot – and it was sub-zero right now. Not that it would snow. No, they never got that lucky in Dundee. Soon as she was eighteen, she was out of here.

  Carly was hugging her torso tight. ‘There’s nobody’s here.’

  ‘The boot’s open.’ Teresa shuffled forward, her heels clicking on the tarmac. ‘Why would anyone leave it open like that?’

  Carly crouched, cupping her hands on the glass to look inside.

  A hand covered Teresa’s mouth.

  A bulky arm grabbed her from behind.

  Someone whispered in her ear, ‘Shhh.’

  Then the hand went, but something still covered her mouth. Fabric maybe? A sleeve?

  Was it Hayden playing a joke on her?

  Pretty sick, even for him.

  Would Carly’s man do it? Before they’d even met?

  Carly was playing with her phone, not even looking over. ‘Where the hell is he?’

  Something cold touched Teresa’s neck. A knife! Someone had a knife on her!

  She tried to scream but it was just a quiet moan. She tasted oily rag.

  ‘Get in the boot.’ She was lifted clean off her feet and dropped into the boot.

  ‘Please!’ But her words were all muffl
ed.

  The boot clicked shut and she was in darkness.

  ‘What the hell?’ Carly, outside.

  ‘Help!’ Teresa hit the inside of the boot, and the metal clattered. ‘Help!’

  Heels clicked off the tarmac outside. Carly running? Maybe.

  Teresa thumped the boot again. Felt like something cracked in her hand.

  She was trapped inside Carly’s boyfriend’s car. What the hell?

  Someone shouted. A man’s voice. She couldn’t make it out. ‘No. No, no, no.’

  That was much clearer.

  What the hell had happened?

  A car door slammed. The car revved and shot off, pushing Teresa forward. Her head hit something hard.

  1

  Vicky lifted Bella up to look out of the window. Maybe they didn’t live in the best part of Carnoustie, but at this time of year, with all the decorations and lights, it looked so lovely. Nothing too flashy or blinking or bling, just subtle and warm and friendly. ‘Can you see Auntie Karen’s car there?’

  Bella tilted her wee head around, frowning. Her dark hair was getting pretty long, maybe time to cut it. Should’ve done that last week. Wouldn’t get her into the hairdressers until after New Year, and even then, she’d squirm and wriggle and complain. And Vicky wouldn’t be allowed to do it herself.

  ‘No, Mummy. Where?’

  She sighed, feeling a pang of pain in her heart, and pointed at the red Volvo with 13 plates. ‘Zulu, alpha, 13. Sierra, Juliet, Bravo.’ God, she needed to turn off the police part of her brain for a few days. ‘See?’

  A hand was waving through the windscreen.

  ‘Oh! There she is, Mummy!’ Bella waved back.

  ‘Come on, Bells.’ Vicky hefted her back down onto the floor. ‘Let’s go and see her.’ She grabbed Bella’s tiny hand and led her through the living room, with that massive tree Bella wanted sitting in the corner. That area underneath was still free for “Santa” to ram full of wrapped presents later, not that the little minx would go to bed until late.

  Karen was at the front door, misting the glass with her breath and drawing a love heart.

  Vicky opened the door. ‘Hey, Karen.’

  ‘Evening, ladies.’ Karen swooped Bella up in her arms. ‘How’s my little princess?’ She carried Bella through to the living room.

  Vicky stepped outside and picked up the massive box sitting on the step. A doll’s house wrapped and just small enough for her to carry it herself. Karen’s daughter’s friend’s mum’s sister’s old one, but the kid was at high school now, so it was an absolute steal. Vicky shuffled it into the porch and nudged the door shut with her hip.

  A wail of giggles erupted from the living room.

  Now.

  Vicky grabbed the box and lugged it up the stairs, thumping on each one, but the giggles and squeals got even louder. The plan was working to perfection. She got it into her bedroom and dropped it on the far side of her bed. Chest heaving. Christ, she needed to get running again. Chance would be a fine thing.

  All of Bella’s presents were under the bed, ready for Santa to work his magic once the wee beastie had gone to bed.

  Vicky took a deep breath, her heart rate back under control, then shut her bedroom door and set off down the stairs.

  Karen and Bella were on the sofa, opposite the TV mounted above the fireplace. Not quite at the right angle, thanks to her dad and her brother’s half-arsed attempts and stupid arguments.

  Vicky collapsed into the armchair. ‘Can I get you a drink, Kaz?’

  ‘Thought you’d never ask.’

  ‘Wine?’

  ‘White.’

  ‘White? Christ.’ Vicky raised her eyebrows. ‘You’ll be smashing the place up before Bella’s gone to bed.’

  ‘I’m not that bad, am I?’

  ‘No, but you’re not that good.’ Vicky heaved herself up and padded through to the kitchen. The bottle of white looked sad in the fridge, filled with kids’ treats, salads and not much else. She poured out two glasses and took them back through, just as that song blasted out of the speakers.

  Bella had already got her way, getting Karen to put Frozen on. Not that it was ever out of the DVD player.

  ‘I see she’s already asked.’ Vicky handed Karen the glass. ‘And you’ve already agreed.’

  ‘I’m a soft touch, Vicks.’ Karen sniffed her glass, but it was like she was sucking in the aroma rather than testing it for freshness, though she had been known to sometimes do subtle. ‘Colin’s the one who does all the hard stuff in our house.’

  ‘He’s not working tonight, then?’

  ‘No. He’s looking after kids. New neighbour a few weeks ago. He’s coming in for some wine, letting his boy play with our two.’ Karen looked up from her glass. ‘Should maybe have invited you over. He’s hot.’

  ‘Kaz…’

  ‘Seriously, Vicks. Don’t you thi—’

  Vicky’s smile cut her off. ‘Maybe after she’s gone to bed.’

  ‘Okay.’ Karen rubbed Bella’s hair. ‘Just that she could’ve had some friends tonight, that’s all.’

  ‘Well, we’ve been saying we needed a girlie night for a while. My brother’s got me Top Gun and Dirty Dancing and—’

  ‘Top Gun. No question.’

  Vicky raised her glass to her lips and tasted the sweet wine.

  Just as her mobile rang.

  Vicky put her glass down on the side table. ‘Who’s that?’

  Karen shrugged. ‘Ignore it.’

  ‘It might be Mum…’

  ‘You’re round there tomorrow, aye?’

  ‘Christmas with the Doddses.’ Vicky picked up her mobile just as it stopped ringing.

  There was a missed call and a text she hadn’t heard. From Alan. Christ – she thought she’d blocked his number. Vicky switched the bloody thing off, then picked up her glass again. Trying to focus on the here and now, not the there and then.

  Karen was looking over with that nosy glint in her eyes. ‘Who’s that?’

  ‘My brother.’ Vicky felt the lie turn into a blush on her neck, but it was only a white one – one day, she’d be able to talk to Karen about Alan, about everything that had happened, but that wasn’t today. ‘Daft sod.’

  ‘You’re back in touch with him, then?’

  ‘Just through Mum and Dad. Well, just Mum really. He’s back living there, but he isn’t well.’

  ‘In a—’

  Now the house phone rang.

  ‘Christ, I’ve got to take it, don’t I?’ Vicky got up and charged through to the hall. That retro phone seemed like a cool idea in the shop, but the practicalities of a rotary dial in the age of mobile phones wasn’t exactly as good as a cheapo cordless, though the actual bell-ringing sound was nice. She picked it up. ‘Hello?’

  ‘Doddsy, it’s David.’

  DI David Forrester, and it wasn’t likely that he’d be wishing her a happy Christmas, when it comes.

  ‘What’s up, sir?’

  Forrester coughed. ‘Just wondering if you’d heard from DS Ennis.’

  ‘Ryan?’ Vicky frowned. ‘Not for a couple of days since I went off on leave. Why?’

  ‘Well, he’s supposed to be on shift, only I can’t get hold of the bugger. A lassie’s been killed.’

  Vicky shut her eyes. ‘Is this you saying you need me to come in?’

  Another cough. ‘Would you be able to?’

  Vicky exhaled. She wasn’t allowed to put herself first for one night, even after eighteen consecutive days at work… ‘Okay, I’ll get Mum to come round to babysit Bella.’

  ‘And if you know where Karen Woods is?’

  2

  An hour later, but it looked like a year’s worth of activity had taken place.

  Vicky slowed, her window whirring down, and she held out her ID. ‘Evening, Dumpy.’

  ‘Sarge.’ The tall male uniformed officer manning the entrance filled out the form for her. He was a good example of why the police could do with a maximum height, as he must have to stoo
p to get through every doorway. ‘DS Vicky Dodds and DC Karen Woods.’ He gave a curt nod. ‘DI Forrester is in the inner locus.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Vicky navigated her car across the icy car park, shiny sparkles rather than the sheer hell that was black ice.

  The brutal supermarket lurked in the background, a dim outline behind the bright glow of the arc lights. Even the Ashworth’s sign was dulled, probably the only time of year it would be, Christmas and New Year – even Easter was a major shopping holiday now.

  She parked as near as she could, but it wasn’t exactly right by the store. A few cars were huddled closer, must be for staff. Inside the front door, more uniformed cops interviewed frustrated workers, all looking outside and no doubt asking when they could go. But maybe someone had seen something. Maybe.

  ‘Can still taste that wine.’ Karen ran her tongue over her lips. ‘Not like you to get good stuff in.’

  ‘Well, it is Christmas, isn’t it?’ Vicky opened her door and got out into the bitter night. She set off towards the crime scene, wrapping her coat tight around her.

  For once, the entrance to the glowing white tent wasn’t flapping in a breeze. Even this close to the Tay, it was perfectly still.

  Karen got to the inner locus first and grabbed the clipboard to sign them in. ‘DI Forrester around?’

  DC Stephen Considine was all suited up, his tangerine hair bright through the translucent hood. Still had acne despite being late twenties, if a day. Not quite tall enough to be the barrier his body language made him out to be. He thumbed behind him, but he seemed more interested in the cars parked nearby, especially a white BMW. ‘Aye, the gaffer’s inside.’