A Deadly Imperfection: Calladine & Bayliss 3 (7 page)

‘You’re a good cook.’

‘I know, and you have eaten here before.  You know I like to cook if I have the time.  There’s some red cabbage there if you want some.’

‘Pie and red cabbage, reminds me of school dinners,’ he grinned.

‘This is nothing like a school dinner, don’t be so damned cheeky.’

Fifteen minutes late the pie dish was empty.  Calladine helped himself to more wine and was tapping his fingers over the lid of the box.

‘It’s the fact that she never told me,’ he frowned.  ‘Not even a hint in all those years.  She never said a bad word about my dad either, well nothing above and beyond the normal spats all married couples have.’

‘She obviously didn’t hold it against him.  She accepted you and what had happened, and got on with things.’

‘She must have been angry though, when she found out.  He had another woman, for God’s sake, and not only that, he’d got her pregnant.  Mum couldn’t have children, so she said in that letter, so she must have been jealous.  My dad’s mistress has his child then expects my mum to bring me up.’

‘Things were different then, people’s behaviour was different.  Unmarried mothers were frowned upon, and she loved you, remember.  You were the innocent party, an infant, probably quite cute too,’ Ruth allowed with a smirk.

‘Probably very cute in fact,’ he grinned back.  ‘I still think this is a bad idea.  I should leave things alone.  I should take this tin box and stash it in my attic, out of sight.’

‘That won’t make it go away, Tom.  The issues will still be there.’

‘What issues, I’m not going to make an issue of anything.’

Just at that moment his mobile rang, it was Rocco.

‘I’ve got something Guv,’ he began excitedly.  ‘Doctor Ahmed had a lady friend. She went to his house the night he was killed.  I got a photo of her from Sandy Cole and Joyce recognised her straight away, so we know who she is.  ‘

‘Have you spoken to her?’

‘No Guv, she’s on duty at the hospital.  I was going to go and speak to her but I thought I’d better tell you first.  It’s his Registrar, Samantha Hurst.   But Hurst is her married name, Guv.  Prior to that she was Samantha Buckley, you know one of
the
Buckleys.’

The Buckley family was like royalty around here.  They owned a large purpose built factory on Leesworth Industrial Estate, and employed a large chunk of the local population.  The woman would have to be interviewed, and she might even become a suspect but for now, they’d tread carefully.

‘In that case we’ll go see her together in the morning, Rocco.  You’ve been at it all day so go home.  Good work, you’ve done well.’

‘What’s Rocco got?’ Ruth asked.

‘Our unsociable doctor had a woman in his life – a woman nobody told us about, not even Ms. Celia Downs, and I can’t believe she didn’t know.’

‘Why, who is she?’

‘His Registrar, Doctor Samantha Hurst – the former Samantha Buckley no less.’

Ruth’s face fell then went several shades paler than normal.

‘One of the pharmaceutical Buckleys?’

‘I believe so, yes,’ he confirmed.

‘In that case we might have a problem.’

‘Why – we’ll go easy, we’ll do our best not to upset anybody.’

‘No, it’s not that,’ Ruth cleared her throat.  This was one time in her life when she really wished she could have that glass of wine. 

‘You need to know about Eve Walker,’ she told him.

‘No I don’t, I’ve told you what I’m going to do.’

‘No, you don’t understand.  You must listen to me.  You can’t go haring off tomorrow without knowing the truth. 

‘You’re freaking me out, what truth – this?’  He asked banging his hand on the box.  ‘This is my personal life - it won’t interfere with my work, I won’t let it.’

‘This time it might.  You see she’s not Walker anymore, she got married years ago.’

‘Ruth, please – I can live without this.’  It was making him edgy - he still wasn’t ready for the truth about his past.  Why couldn’t she leave it like he’d asked? 

‘No you can’t live without it because of one very good reason.  She’s Eve Buckley now.’

‘Buckley – as in ….?’

‘Yes, Tom, as in the pharmaceutical Buckleys.  So, you see, you do need to know because this Samantha, the woman you’re going to interview in the morning, is your half sister.’ 

He was momentarily stunned.  A half sister – a sibling, the idea terrified him.  How was it that he kept discovering female family members he never knew he had?  First his daughter Zoe had turned up out of the blue, now suddenly, he has a sister. 

‘I’m sorry Tom, but you can see why I couldn’t just leave it.  You might not want to know them, but Eve Buckley will know all about you.’

Ruth was right, she would know, and that might put him at a disadvantage.  What if Samantha was involved in the murders?  Now that would really cause him a problem.  He scowled, why now?  Why all this when he wasn’t up to dealing with it.  Did she know about him?  His stomach churned - he was trying to think.  What did he know about that family?  There was another one – he’d seen his name in the local paper – ‘Entrepreneur of the year’ or something.  The son, Simon Buckley had run the factory since the death of his father.  So he had a half brother as well.  It was too much - he wasn’t ready to sort this just yet.

‘I’m sorry Ruth but this is a too much to take in.  I think I’ll just go home.  I need some time alone to work all this out.  My head’s spinning.’

‘You can’t drive, you’ve drunk most of that wine and you’re probably a bit tiddly.  Jake will take you, he needs to get petrol for tomorrow anyway,’ she said, going off to get him.

It had been a night and a half as it was and he couldn’t take any more so he hoped Lydia had calmed down.  He didn’t relish the idea of arguing afresh about Fallon, not now, not with all this on his mind.  Perhaps he should just tell her, get it all out in the open.

‘Take it with you,’ Ruth said pushing the tin box into his hand.  ‘It can’t do you any more harm.  You know its secrets now.’

‘Mores the pity,’ he said kissing her cheek.  ‘Thanks, lovely meal.  I’ll be better company in the morning, once I’ve mulled it over, and no need to drag Jake out, I’ll leave my car here and walk,’ he told her.  ‘It’s hardly miles, is it - just along the High Street.’

‘You’ll be alright?’

‘Course – what d’you imagine I’m going to do?  I’m not a child, you know.  I just want to clear my head.  Sort all this out,’ he said, shaking the box.

He turned his overcoat collar up against the biting wind, tucked the box under his arm and stuffed his hands in his pockets.  Ruth pregnant, he never thought he’d see the day.  He smiled, it was good, it really was, she’d make a great mum and Jake would be great too.  They were good together, pity he couldn’t find that special someone like Ruth had.  Lydia wasn’t settling down material, she was far too ambitious.  She wanted fun and excitement - he was merely a means to an end, a channel for the information she needed, sobering thought.

It was only Wednesday night but the High Street was busy.  A group of men were noisily drawing attention to themselves outside the ‘Weaver’s Arms’ pub.  Someone shouted and he heard a bottle smash.  It wasn’t that late but it was already shaping up to be a wild one.

Calladine turned down a side street - he’d go down the back lane and reach his home that way.  He wasn’t in any mood to run the gauntlet of the other pubs strung along Leesdon main thoroughfare.

‘Detective Inspector,’ a deep voice intoned from in front of him.

He’d got his head down against the wind so he hadn’t noticed the pool of light coming from the shop window.  Amaris Dean was sweeping up the rubbish from the footpath outside her shop.

‘You’re open late,’ he noted. 

‘We’ve had a development session here tonight,’ she smiled.

He’d no idea what she meant but he nodded and smiled back anyway.  She looked nice, for a woman who must be close to his own age she was in good nick.  Tonight she wore that long lustrous hair up in a sort of roll at the back, it showed off the delicate bone structure of her face.  She wasn’t wearing much makeup just a little lipstick and something that seemed to make her eyes look all smoky and sexy.

‘You keep long hours, a bit like me,’ he couldn’t think of anything else to say.  He was tongue tied like an inept teenager talking to a girl he fancied, for the first time.  ‘You still have to travel home then?’

‘No, I live up there,’ she said pointing to the first floor.  ‘I have a lovely flat above my shop.  Fancy a drink, Tom,’ she smiled again.  She had that look in her eyes again, the one that he felt sure could see into his very soul.  ‘You don’t mind if I call you Tom, do you?’

She was still staring, her gaze holding him.  No he certainly didn’t, she could call him anything she wanted.  He was attracted to her, but not just that, there was something else too, for now he’d put it down to fascination. 

‘You look…. troubled,’ she decided.  ‘You almost walked right past,’ she frowned.  ‘Work, is it – case getting you down?’

‘Something like that,’ he replied following her into the shop.

‘You should learn how to relax.  Perhaps I could show you some techniques.’

‘Like what?’

‘Relaxation, you could even come here and try a reiki session.’

Something else he didn’t understand.

‘What did you mean – development session?  What is it that’s being developed?’

She laughed and picked up a bottle from the table.  It was a vodka bottle but the fluid inside was pink.  He was staring again – was nothing about this woman ordinary?

‘My special cranberry vodka,’ she told him.  ‘Here, try some.  It’s lovely at this time of year, warming and festive.’  Her eyes twinkled as she handed him a generous glass full.

Calladine sipped the pink liquid as if it was some mystic potion but she was right, it was delicious.

‘Some of my customers show potential, for example in healing or mediumship,’ she explained.  ‘I hold workshops, invite a guest speaker and we go from there.’

‘You’ve been busy then?’

‘Oh yes, Tom, that’s what it’s all about.  Every session I hold here helps to generate business for my shop.  But by far the most popular are the Tarot readings.’

Still clutching the vodka he’d followed her upstairs to her flat.  The sitting room was a delight – a cosy oasis from the busy high street. She had the place decorated in subtle tones of pale green with bead curtains between the rooms.  She had a number of paintings on her walls, some a little esoteric looking and one fabulous nude.  His gaze fell on it and he couldn’t tear his eyes away.  The woman was posing on a fur mat, nothing was left to the imagination and her hair fell long and lustrous down her back.  But it was her eyes, that searching look that finally made him turn and face her quizzically.

‘Yes,’ she nodded, a smile hovering on those full lips.  ‘That is me, a good few years ago now though.’

He’d anticipated as much.  She was a truly gorgeous woman, the painting simply confirmed it.  Calladine sat on the sofa, sinking into the deep, lush cushions.  He checked his mobile – nothing, no messages and no missed calls.  He turned the thing off – it wouldn’t harm for once.  The vodka warmed him and somewhere in the background there was soft music playing.  He yawned, the day’s problems slipping away as he closed his eyes.
 

***
 

Thursday
 

‘What the hell have you been doing?  You’ve been gone all night, no word, nothing,’ an angry Lydia greeted him. 

She was stood in his kitchen, dressed for work in a crisp suit, her hands on her hips as she glared at him.  Her blonde hair was loose and brushing over her shoulders, she looked glorious.

‘I told you, I went to Ruth’s… we had a lot to discuss,’ he explained with a shrug as if it was no big deal.  But, of course he knew very well it was – it was a very big deal in fact because Amaris Dean had got to him.   That would explain why he felt like a naughty teenager!

‘You left about ten, I rang her.  And you turned your mobile off – you never turn your mobile off, Tom.  So what’s going on?’ She demanded angrily.  ‘So, I’ll ask again, where have you been all night?’

‘I fell asleep,’ he replied lamely.  It was true after all.  He’d drunk the vodka and fallen asleep on Amaris’s sofa.  But he could hardly tell Lydia that – she’d no idea about Amaris.  Anyway, it wasn’t as if Amaris was a rival for his affections or anything.  Who was he kidding!

‘It’s not good enough, Tom.  None of it is and I can’t go on like this anymore.’

Alarm bells were going off inside his head.

‘You don’t come home, you don’t want to help with my work, our relationship is crashing and you don’t give a damn, do you?’

‘Of course I do,’ he was struggling.  ‘I had a lot of thinking to do, things I discussed with Ruth.’  Not a lie, what about the Eve Buckley problem, he reminded himself.

‘You’re always talking to Ruth.  Don’t you ever consider talking things over with me, for a change?’

‘I don’t want to burden you, apart from you she’s one of the few people I can talk to.’

‘You never tell me anything and you don’t take me anywhere anymore.  You’ve become a huge bore, Tom Calladine and it’s not good enough, not by a long way.’  With that she turned on her heel and flounced off into the kitchen. 

What had he done - nothing much at all in his book, but she wasn’t going to believe any explanation he gave her.  Perhaps he should take her out more, make a fuss of her but the truth was at the end of a hard day he didn’t have the energy.  That was the age gap rearing its ugly head as he knew, inevitably, one day it was sure to.  Calladine had no idea what was going on but he hadn’t the will to work it out.  He needed to shower and change and get off to work.  Lydia was fast becoming an irritation he could do without.

‘It’s six thirty, and I’m off soon.  You’d better drink this,’ she handed him a mug of hot coffee.

He took the drink gratefully and downed it.  He had to get his head together, today was a big day.  He rubbed his face and yawned. 

‘Off where?’ He queried.  ‘Not back to the prison, surely.  You’re not going back to see that villain.  He’s playing you, you shouldn’t go near him.’

‘I’ll do what I like, Tom Calladine,’ she said sticking her nose in the air.  ‘But I’m not going to see Fallon today; instead I’m going to find myself an apartment to rent.’

He looked at her.  She was stood clutching a suitcase in each hand.  ‘Just like that?’

‘No – not just like that.  We’ve both seen this coming.  You’ve got your work back now, and you’ve fallen back into your old habits.  Work, booze, sleep, that’s your life, Tom.  You don’t have room for romance, and you certainly don’t have room for me.’

‘That’s not true – we’re good together.  You looked after me while I was ill.  I thought we had something, were going somewhere,’ he looked shocked.

‘Going where, exactly, Detective, because I’m not for settling down, not yet awhile.  And when I do decide to, my life will be a lot different from the one you seem to be offering.’

‘My job’s very demanding,’ he mumbled back.

‘So’s mine, and they’re not compatible.’

‘Where will you go?’

‘Like I said, I’m looking for a flat, but in the meantime Zoe and Jo have said I can have their spare room.’

Bloody good that – his own daughter taking in his estranged lover!