A Deadly Imperfection: Calladine & Bayliss 3 (2 page)

Calladine got himself a cup of coffee while Doc. Hoyle and his assistant prepared the body.  So by the time the Inspector entered the Post Mortem room Tariq Ahmed was laid out on the table.

He’d never been squeamish, even as a rookie cop the post mortem room had held no fears, but since the shooting that had changed.  He couldn’t help but imagine that that was him lay cold and still on the slab.  He shuddered, not yet awhile with any luck.

Tariq Ahmed was Asian and slight.  He had a full head of greying black hair and the only obvious wounds were those to his back and his right eye.

‘It’s as I said, Tom. He was stabbed in the back.  Interesting angle though - I’ll have to open him up to clarify but I’d say whoever did this was smaller than our victim. ‘ The Doc poked at the air in an upward movement, demonstrating what he thought the deadly stroke might have looked like.

‘He isn’t particularly tall himself,’ Calladine noted.  ‘So what are you saying?’

‘Don’t rule anyone out, that’s all.  This is a crime that could have been just as easily committed by a man or a woman.  With the element of surprise, no great strength would be needed.’

‘Or a youngster?’

The Doc pulled a face.  ‘Grim idea that one – but yes, I suppose so.’

‘Any signs of a struggle, Doc?’

‘There are no abrasions or defence wounds on his hands or arms.  No knocks to the head or face, other than the one where he banged his head as he fell,’ he said as he examined the body.  ‘It looks like it was pretty clean to me.  One stab to the back and it was all over.’

‘So he didn’t see it coming.  He was taken by surprise and our killer chose the right area to aim for.  Would that require any special knowledge, familiarity with anatomy for example?’

‘Possibly, it has to be said, it was a clean kill.  One stab, that’s all it took.  This is a cool customer and no mistake.  But it could equally just have been a lucky strike.’

‘Lucky!  God help the poor bloke on a bad day,’ Calladine observed cynically, eyeing the corpse.

‘Back for good, Tom - is this you better, finally over what happened?’

‘Yep, I rather think it is,’ he admitted with a smile.  ‘I’ve had enough of sitting about feeling sorry for myself.  Ruth tells me things are bad at the nick so they need me,’ he grinned. 

‘She’s struggling with Long and his sidekick.  Their work methods are…., shall we just say, an acquired taste and that’s me at my most diplomatic.’

‘God knows what the powers that be were thinking putting Brad Long in charge,’ Calladine snorted.  ‘Want their bloody heads looking at.’

‘Jones was a mess, and you weren’t available, Tom,’ the Doc reminded him.

‘Wouldn’t have wanted the job anyway,’ the DI shrugged.  ‘I’m getting to the point where I want to take on less not more.’

At that Doc. Hoyle gave him a doubtful look.  It was his opinion that Tom should have made DCI long before now.  He’d heard the rumours about his renegade cousin, but he’d never pried.  ‘You do know who this is, don’t you, Tom?’  He asked changing the subject.

‘Some doctor from City Hospital.’

‘Not just some doctor – he’s a Consultant Oncologist and one of the best in the north of England.   This guy will be greatly missed by the profession as well as any family and friends.’

‘Would he have enemies – within his field, I mean?’

‘I wouldn’t have thought so.  He was very well thought of.’

‘Well someone bore a grudge that’s for sure.’

‘I’ll do all the usual tests, etc, confirm exactly how he died, and get back to you, Tom.  I should have the full report some time tomorrow.’
 

***
 

‘Guv, you’re back,’ Imogen Goode exclaimed as Calladine walked into the main office surprising them all.  The blonde DC got up from her desk, threw her arms around him excitedly, before abandoning protocol and kissing him soundly on the cheek.  ‘Sorry Guv,’ she immediately apologised.  ‘I don’t mean to be familiar or anything,’ she explained, highly embarrassed and not knowing where to put herself.  ‘But we haven’t half missed you.  I shouldn’t have done that, should I,’ she decided as her cheeks flushed a bright shade of pink.

Calladine chuckled and moved her arm from his shoulder.  ‘Okay Imogen, I get it and it’s fine.  I don’t want any fuss but a cuppa wouldn’t go amiss.’

‘I’ll get you one, Guv, good and strong just as you like it.’

He looked around the office – Joyce, the team’s admin assistant caught his eye and nodded.  ‘You look a lot better,’ she told him.  ‘A lot better than you did in hospital when we visited.’

‘The rest has done me good,’ he agreed. 

She grabbed a pile of papers of her desk and made for the door – she was blushing slightly too – what was it with the women in this room?  It was rumoured, mostly by Ruth, that Joyce was carrying something of a torch for him.  Hopefully that uncomfortable bit of tittle tattle would come to nothing.  He’d no idea what he’d do if she suddenly found the courage to ask him out for a drink or something.

Imogen, Joyce, Rocco and Ruth – the same team - as yet no additions so they’d still be stretched.  He’d speak to Long - not that he expected an acting DCI to have much influence.

Ruth had made a start with the board.  A photo of Tariq Ahmed and a tarot card not the one from the scene - that was with Julian Batho.  No – this was one just like it from a pack she’d bought on the way back.

‘There’s a shop just off Leesdon High Street sells them.  In fact it sells all sorts of weird stuff, crystals, cards incense and the like.  I’m nipping back later for a chat.  It is possible that our murderer bought the cards there.’

‘They’re available online too don’t forget - all different designs and quite cheap,’ Imogen piped up as she returned with Calladine’s tea.

Julian will tell us if it’s new or old.  It was difficult to tell with all the blood on it,’ Ruth told them.  ‘But if it was new then it’s worth a shot.’

‘Imogen, have you got anywhere with the staff at the City Hospital?’

‘Doctor Ahmed’s secretary was not available when I rang and the medical team he worked with were in various clinics.  So no, I didn’t get anywhere,’ she explained.

‘We should get down there.  We need to speak to Dr. Ahmed’s colleagues quickly,’ Calladine told Ruth as sipped on his tea.

‘Hadn’t you better check in with Long first,’ she suggested with a smirk.  ‘He’s got Thorpe on the job don’t forget.’

Thorpe – where had he got too?  Calladine left the main office and walked down the corridor to what was now DCI Long’s office.  The door was open and DS Thorpe was lolling on a chair with his feet up.

‘You didn’t stay long, Sergeant – get what you needed?’

‘Nothing to get – wait for forensics then take another look,’ he shrugged and looked at Long who was staring at Calladine quizzically.

‘You back, Tom?  Does that mean the Doc’s given you the all clear?’

He’d forgotten about that little bit of red tape.  Now he’d have to get an appointment and waste yet more time.

‘I’m seeing him in the morning,’ he lied.  ‘He’ll give me the all clear – I’m fine.’

‘What are you up to?’

‘The Tariq Ahmed murder – Ruth and I are off to the City Hospital, meet with his colleagues.  Get a feel for what the man was like.’

‘Thorpe – you going with them,’ Long asked.

‘I’ve still got work on the Prideau case to get through,’ he looked up at Calladine.  He was chewing gum and had his hands in his pockets – he was far too sloppy for comfort.

‘Fine with me,’ Calladine was only too pleased to have him off his back.

‘So you’ll take this one on,’ Long put to him.

‘Yep, I’ll keep you posted.’

‘Occupation Health will want a chat, so take things slow until I get confirmation that you’re back proper,’ he warned.

Occupational Health!  Calladine usually did his best to stay away from that lot.  What could they possibly know about the job he did and whether he was up to or not.  Office bound pen pushers the lot of them.

‘You set to go, Ruth?’

‘Yes Guv,’ she answered reaching for her coat.  ‘Rocco’s been on, he’s found some CCTV so he’s bringing it in.   Want to wait around or what?’

‘No – we’ll see what he’s got when we get back.  Imogen – what do you know about the Prideau case?’

‘We’ve got a missing child, Guv, Isla Prideau.  Thorpe took the case on.  He did some initial investigations but got nowhere.   I did some background on that one, but he didn’t want to listen to my theories,’ she shrugged.  ‘So I had no choice but to leave him to it.’

‘What theories?’

Imogen tapped away at her computer keyboard for a second or two then scanned what she had.  ‘There are two kids missing, Guv - the Prideau girl from Hopecross and another one, Leah Cassidy from Oldston.  I think the two are linked, Thorpe doesn’t, and he wouldn’t even look at what I’d got.  Both girls’ are the same age, both just starting school and their mothers had social media accounts and posted photos of the little girls wearing their school uniforms online within hours of them going missing.  I thought that, and the fact that there’s only eight miles between Hopecross and Oldston too much of a coincidence.’

‘So do I?  What about Long – wasn’t he interested?’

‘He didn’t seem so.  I think he’s leaving it up to Thorpe.’

Two kids missing, and effectively, no one was doing anything.  Calladine would have to give it some consideration and fast.

‘Get all the stuff you’ve got together.  I’ll take it and give it the once over tonight,’ he told her.  ‘We’d better go.  You’ll have to drive,’ he told Ruth.  ‘I’ve not got mine – remember?’

‘I suppose that means I’ll be taking you home too,’ she nodded.  ‘Deliver you safely back to Lydia once we’re done.’

The two detectives made their way out to the car park.  Ruth had a smile on her face – things were finally looking up.  Calladine was back and they had a juicy case to get stuck into.  Suddenly the job was less of a drag and far more interesting than it’d been in weeks.

‘You’ve changed,’ he decided once they were in the car.  ‘And don’t say it’s my imagination because I know when things are different.’

‘I’m the same me, Guv,’ she insisted.  ‘It’s probably because we’ve not worked together for a while.’

‘No it’s not that, you have changed.  You look different, you’ve grown your hair, and it’s several shades lighter, and that skirt’s rather short for you too.’

He’d never realised it before but Ruth had a really good pair of legs.  The rest of her was shaping up rather well these days too.

‘I’ve got a man in my life,’ she laughed.  ‘And anyway, I’ve decided it’s a good thing to make the most of myself.  Before Jake I was in a bit of a rut.’

‘You look good – it suits you.’

‘A compliment, I’m honoured,’ she grinned.  ‘Wish I could say something nice about the way you look too, Guv, but to be truthful, you’re still looking a bit rough.  Not too much for you, this jumping straight back into the hot seat?’

‘Charming, been going to flattery school or what,’ he joked.  ‘But don’t worry about me.  I’m fine - this is just what I needed.’

‘You’ve missed us then – us and the cut and thrust of the job?  I know we’ve all missed you.’

‘I’ve been living in a sort of limbo land.  I wanted to come back but I got stuck in a bit of a rut too.  The rut of life on the sofa, in front of the telly and having Lydia run herself stupid to keep me fed.’

‘I’m surprised you want to give that up – given how you feel about her.’

‘Lydia or not I’ve still got to work.  The bills and the boredom don’t go away you know.  I’ve decided to chalk what happened down to sheer bad luck and get on with things.  I’m surprised I didn’t see more of you.  You kept your distance, you and the team.’

‘Well it’s difficult, isn’t it?  Lydia is still press and she’s always on the hunt for a story.  If any of us said anything about work she’d be on it straight away and then there’s the
other thing
.  I could hardly talk about that – could I?’

‘What other thing?’

‘Pandora.’

‘Pandora who?’

‘Don’t play dumb with me.  I’m talking about the
shock in the box
– the box I’m keeping for you, the one your mother left you, the one with your past in it.’

He shut his eyes.  Why now – why did she have to bring this up now?  He’d put it out of his mind.  He hadn’t been ready to deal with what he’d found out then, and he was no nearer now.  He sighed deeply - life used to be so simple.  He used to know exactly who he was, where he’d come from, who his family was.  He used to have a history, know names and faces – now all he had a bloody big gap where his mother should have been.

‘I know we’ve not talked these last few weeks, since that day – you know, the day you got shot.  And that’s not because I didn’t want to - I didn’t know where to begin.  But don’t think that I’ve forgotten, because I’ve been dying to ask.  Have you done anything about finding her, your birth mother?’

Right or not, the truth was he hadn’t.  When his mother had died she’d left him a few hundred quid and the revelation that he was the product of an affair his father had had fifty two years ago with some woman he’d never heard of.  Freda Calladine wasn’t his mother at all, and Calladine hadn’t been able to deal with it.  So it lay shelved in a backwater of his mind labelled
explosive
.