A Deadly Imperfection: Calladine & Bayliss 3 (6 page)

At that she stopped and looked at them both.  Ruth was gawping, her mouth practically hanging open.  She was amazed, how could this woman possible know that?  She and Calladine were the only two who knew about the Eve Walker thing.

‘Now – the card you dropped.’  She flicked the card over – even a novice could understand this one – the lovers.  She tilted her head to one side - her eyes were making fun of him again.  ‘You are a passionate man but passions can ebb and you are about to embark on something new and exciting, Inspector.  That’s all I can say.’

‘What do you think?’

‘I’m still making up my mind,’ Calladine admitted.  ‘She’s not easy to work out.  Those things she said…’

‘About the case or about you, Guv?’

‘Both, Sergeant - I can’t just dismiss what she told us out of hand because I can’t explain how she’d know,’ he turned to Ruth.  ‘Unless you told her,’ he questioned.  ‘Did you – did you set me up?’

He couldn’t believe that Ruth would do that, but this entire thing was way out of his league.

‘No of course I didn’t,’ Ruth protested vehemently.  ‘You’ve got some cheek.  Do you imagine that I’ve got the time to go gossiping about your private life to a complete stranger just to prove a point?’ 

She sat back in the passenger seat and folded her arms, her face was flushed. Ruth was annoyed.

‘Okay, I apologise,’ he replied hastily.  ‘So that means she’s genuine, that there is some credibility in what Amaris Dean does?’

‘Where you’re concerned, certainly.  You chose the cards, nothing was set up,’ Ruth reminded him.

‘Don’t mention this to anyone else,’ he insisted.

‘I can hardly do that even if I wanted to,’ she rolled her eyes.  ‘This whole thing about Eve Walker has been festering away between us for weeks.  We need to have that talk.  You need to get this dealt with, get it out in the open.  Your mother’s gone, so’s your dad – so I don’t see why it should be such a secret.’

‘I wonder if Eve Walker thinks like you do.  She might have very good reasons for wanting to keep me out of her life.  She’s never come looking, has she?’

‘According to Amaris she does want you. She said that the Queen of Pentacles felt the need to resolve things – so she wants to meet up, simple.’

‘Wanting to put things right and actually doing it are very different things, Ruth.  Eve Walker may not be in any position to accept me.  I could go storming in and meet a brick wall.’

‘She isn’t Eve Walker anymore, either.  She married,’ Ruth hesitated for moment.  Should she tell him?  ‘Do you want to know?’  She asked.

‘No, not yet, save it,’ he decided.

His private life was one thing but he needed to get on with the job in hand.  They were chasing a murderer, a murderer who still might have victims to kill.

‘We’d better get back to the nick.  Amaris Dean may have given me something to think about but we’re no further forward with the case.  With any luck the CCTV will have thrown up something.’

And indeed it had.  Back in the office Rocco was obviously exited about something.

‘We’ve a break, Guv,’ he announced proudly.  ‘It’s hazy but look,’ he said handing the Inspector a photo.

‘A man sat in a car,’ a puzzled Calladine noted, handing the photo back.  ‘No woman then?’

‘No, just this, but it could prove a very useful find.  The car belongs to one Sandy Cole, he’s a private investigator.  The plates on his car gave him away, and he has an office on the High Street,’ Rocco explained.

‘What’s he doing there?’

‘Apparently, one of Doctor Ahmed’s neighbours is having an affair and he’s been employed by the husband to gather evidence.  He was there most of the evening and on into the night, and he was talking photographs.’

‘Go and talk to him some more, Rocco.  Find out what he saw, if he had his camera handy then he might have photos of our killer.’

‘Imogen, anything else on Doctor Ahmed?’

‘Nothing concrete, I spoke to the receptionist who runs his clinic she confirmed that he wasn’t easy to get on with.  She said he didn’t talk much, didn’t socialise.  Patients were always ringing up because they didn’t understand what they’d been told or prescribed.  He had a short fuse and didn’t do long conversations,’ she shrugged.  ‘Sounds like a right so and so, glad he was never treating anyone belonging to me.’

‘In that case get his current patient list – he’s upset someone, perhaps one of them had nothing to lose and decided to make him pay.’

‘Where does Albert North fit into that scenario,’ Ruth asked?

‘Well he doesn’t.’

‘So it’s not just Doctor Ahmed that needed teaching a lesson?’

‘Is that what you think this is all about – retribution?’

Ruth shrugged.   ‘It’s something to look at.  Perhaps it’s a disgruntled patient with links to Albert North – someone from the Hobfield?’

Ruth might have something there - they needed to do a lot more digging.

‘Doc. Hoyle on the phone, Guv,’ Joyce said holding out the handset for him.

‘What you got, Doc?’

‘I’ve finished the Autopsies on both Ahmed and North, Tom.  North really wasn’t in good health.  He had a failing heart and COPD.’

‘Any sign of cancer, Doc?’  Calladine asked, thinking that that might give them something – a link with Tariq Ahmed for example.

‘No – but he did have whiskey in his stomach, and he must have drunk it within minutes of his death.’

‘Did Julian find a bottle in his clothing?’

‘No, there was nothing.  Julian’s gone back to the scene for another look around.  Did your lot do a thorough search?’

‘That was their job,’ Calladine rubbed his forehead.   ‘So what are you saying?’

‘No bottle on him so it looks likely he was given the whiskey by his killer, that’s all.  Don’t know if it helps, that’s for you to work out.’

‘Thanks Doc.’

‘The wound in Ahmed’s back was caused by a long, thin blade.  Long because it went in a considerable distance, cutting the aorta virtually in two and thin because the entry wound and path is narrow.’

‘A long thin knife, you say – unlikely to be one from the kitchen then?’

‘I’ll leave that one with you too, Tom,’ he decided, realising the detective was simply thinking out loud and not asking for an opinion.

‘I’ll talk to Julian –see if he’s found anything.  I’m scratching my head on this one, don’t mind admitting.  I’ll take anything, no matter how insignificant it might seem.’

Once the Doc hung up Calladine rang Julian Batho’s mobile.

‘Inspector what can I do for you?’

‘Are you at the scene yet, Julian?’

‘I am, I’m scrambling around the weeds and litter under the bench North was found on as we speak,’ he replied.

Somehow that image didn’t fit.  Calladine couldn’t imagine the serious minded scientist on his knees getting dirt all over his clothes.

‘What is it you hope to find, Julian?’

‘Something that might have contained whiskey, Inspector,’ his voice sounded strained, as if he was uncomfortable.  ‘Something rather like this,’ he added his tone now a lot lighter.  ‘Inspector I’ve just found the cup part of a flask, you know the ones with a screw top that you put hot drinks in.  It was buried in the long grass under bench where North must have dropped it during the attack.  And it stinks of whiskey,’ he added jubilantly.

‘Well done, Julian,’ Calladine was impressed.  ‘Good work – will you get it looked at as soon as.  There might be prints, DNA from the killer, anything in fact.’

‘I know my job, Inspector,’ Julian replied tersely.  ‘But there were no prints on the petrol can.  It looked fairly new and being a cold night, it was probable our killer wore gloves.  And I’m also analysing the wig hair for DNA.  With that, and now the cup then we’re in with a chance.’

‘Why feed him whiskey?’

‘I’ve no idea, Ruth.  Julian might come up with something to help.’

‘Shepherd’s Pie suit you,’ she asked, flicking through the photo’s from the CCTV camera near Doctor Ahmed’s house.  ‘Supper, tonight, remember you’re coming round for a chat.’

‘The pie sounds fine but the chat?’  He shook his head.  ‘I’m still not sure, I don’t want to stir things then regret it.’

Ruth shook her head.  He was being a right pain about this and she couldn’t understand why.  Any normal person would want to know about their past, their real parents, but him….

‘Do I bring Lydia?’

‘Not if you want to talk,’ she shot him a look.  ‘It won’t go away you know, it’ll eat away at the back of your mind and end up keeping you awake nights.’

‘What will?’  Imogen looked up.  ‘Got a problem, Guv?’

‘Yep, the one over there glaring at me,’ he replied pointing at Ruth.  ‘Imogen, contact DI Greco at Oldston nick and tell him what you’ve got on the two missing girls.  I’m going home for a bit to think.  Don’t ring me unless it’s urgent.’

‘He wouldn’t talk to me, not a word,’ Lydia Holden slammed her brief case down on the table and folded her arms.  ‘He wants to see you, Tom.  He’s insisting, and he won’t give me anything until I persuade you to visit too.’

‘I’ve told you before, I’m not going to see that thug in prison, so sorry, I can’t help.’ Calladine was emphatic.  The man had tried to kill him, here in this very room, surely she could understand.  ‘Besides it wouldn’t do – I’m a cop, remember?  When Fallon comes up for trial I’ll have to give evidence – so no, I can’t go visit him, not even for you.’

‘You won’t go, you mean.  You’re just being difficult, Tom.  I need this story, you know that.  You know what it would mean for my career so I can’t see why you’d refusing to help me.’

Calladine sighed – he’d known it was bound to come to this.  Lydia’s obsession with his cousin had reached an all time high.  She was like a starving dog with a bone. God knows what she expected Fallon to tell her.  He was hardly going to incriminate himself in other crimes, was he, and that’s what talking candidly to Lydia would mean.

‘My advice is drop it, drop the story and certainly drop Fallon.  You shouldn’t go back - you’ll be called to give evidence too.  It was you that brought him here that day.’

‘I did not,’ she protested.  ‘He hijacked me and my car, how can you say that to me, Tom?’

‘Because it’s what happened.  You deliberately went out that day to find him. You spoke to his wife, stopped her on the street and spun her some yarn about dogs to win her trust.  Just like Marilyn that, she was always far too gullible.  Fallon will have a crack defence team working for him.  He won’t go down without a fight, that and your cosy little visits to Strangeways will be something they’ll use.’

Those full, pink lips pouted at him in that way they had.  He hated arguing with her but this was something they just couldn’t agree on.

‘You’re just being stubborn.  I don’t think you want me to achieve success, do you?  You want me to go back to being a provincial hack so that I can be at your beck and call forever more.  Well that’s not going to happen, so get used to it.  I’ve had enough,’ she threw at him. ‘And why are you all dressed up – where are you going?’

‘I’m not dressed up, just got my blue suit on, that’s all.’  He was trying to decide between two ties, one a gift from Lydia, the other one his mother had given him.  ‘Ruth’s asked me round for something to eat.’

‘Am I not invited?’

‘No – it’s a work thing,’ he lied

‘Well in that case I’m going up to bed and I don’t want company!’  With that she flounced off in the direction of staircase.  ‘You’re not even going to try to put things right, are you?  Tom Calladine?’  She shouted down to him.  ‘You’re an idiot and I’m disappointed in you.’

‘I said I’d be there at seven,’ he said doing his best to ignore her rant.  ‘I can’t let her down.’  He heard the bedroom door slam shut, winced and decided on the tie from his mother.
 

***
 

‘You’re a difficult man to pin down,’ Rocco told the man sat at a huge desk in a dimly lit office.  ‘I’ve been hanging around the High Street for over an hour waiting for you to show.

‘That’s the nature of this business, I’m afraid.  I seem to spent most of time parked up somewhere in my car, camera lens pressed against a window.  But you can always get me on my mobile,’ he smiled, handing Rocco a business card.

Rocco pulled his Warrant Card from his pocket.  ‘DC Simon Rockliffe, Leesdon CID,’ he introduced himself.

The man stood up and proffered his hand.  ‘Pleased to meet you, I’m Sandy Cole, Private Investigator,’ he said with a sense of pride.

He was a heavily built man with red hair – hence the name ‘Sandy’, Rocco presumed.  He had a florid face and a small moustache and was wearing a tweed jacket, a check shirt and a bow tie.  A man with a very individual look and Rocco wondered why he’d never noticed him around Leesdon before.

‘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.