Down to Sleep

by Clare Revell

  “Freedom?” Zander suggested.

  “Yeah. Yeah, it is. I’m not a slave to fear any longer. I was thinking. We should probably tell Farrell we found another painting. I’ll call him in the morning.”

  Zander shot her a look. “Is that a good idea?”

  “From work. On speaker phone. I need to do this, Zander. Oh, and I’ve decided the next time he parks outside my house I’ll dial nine nine nine, and have him picked up for stalking.”

  He chuckled. “You wouldn’t?”

  “Too right, I would.” Her heart sank again. “There’s a school three-hundred yards down the road. I don’t want anyone hanging around for any reason whatsoever. Those kids need to be kept safe.”

  He nodded. “Yeah, they do.”

  Isabel finished her meal. “Thank you for that.” She yawned. “Sorry.”

  Zander took the plate. “Go to bed.”

  “I ought to—”

  “Go to bed and get some sleep,” he finished as he put the plate in the dishwasher. He studied her. “I can let myself out. Fancy a lift around eight tomorrow morning?”

  “Yes, please.”

  Zander set the dishwasher going. “Now go to sleep.” He hugged her briefly. “I promise things will seem better tomorrow.”

  “Really?”

  He held up his thumb and forefinger with a tiny gap between them. “About this much.”

  Isabel shook her head. She saw him out and locked up behind him. She turned off all the lights, before heading to her bedroom. It overlooked the front of the house. Gran’s place stood opposite, white smoke still issuing from the ruins. Tears filled her eyes as she closed the curtains. A verse flitted through her mind.

  The Lord is close to the broken hearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.

  She climbed into bed as her phone beeped.

  Are you asleep yet?

  She shook her head. “You can try too hard, Zander.”

  Yes.

  A row of crying with laughter emotes followed swiftly.

  Sleep texting, I assume?

  Always. Night.

  Isabel turned the phone onto silent and picked up her Bible. Tonight’s reading was Psalm thirty-four. Exactly the passage that had run through her mind a couple of minutes ago. She looked up. Strange. No, not strange. What Zander would call a God thing. Maybe she should try Headley Baptist this weekend. Zander and Gran seemed happy there and it made sense if she had to arrange a funeral there.

  Funeral… She grabbed her phone again.

  What about the victims’ funerals?

  We go to them. I’ll see if Iona’s has been arranged yet. Now turn the phone off and go to bed.

  In bed. Turning off the light in five. Night.

  She turned back to her Bible and carried on reading.

  19

  Zander arrived at Isabel’s house on the dot of eight. A red fire investigation van was parked opposite. Locking the car, he headed over to the fire officer. “Morning. Do you know how the fire started yet?”

  “And you are?”

  Zander pulled out his ID. “DC Ellery. My partner is Mrs. Kowalski’s next of kin.” Well, as good as.

  “Tom Shelby, fire investigation. Just about to take a second look. We’ll let you know as soon as we’re done. It’ll probably be the big boss who calls you.”

  “Thank you.” Zander crossed the road and reached Isabel’s front door just as she opened it. “Morning.”

  “Morning.” Her gaze settled past him and he assumed she was looking at the van. “Is that the fire investigation team?”

  “Yes, and it’s standard practice. If it’s arson, they prove it; then we arrest and charge. You know that.”

  She nodded. “Yeah. Just checking you did. How’s the exam revision going?” She locked the front door and followed him to his car.

  Zander snorted as he unlocked the car. “It’s going.”

  She climbed in and reached for the belt. “If you want to practice questions at some point. I don’t mind helping.”

  “Thanks.”

  “How’s Rosa?”

  Zander slammed his door and snorted again. “Busy. Too busy to answer her phone apparently. They have SATS coming up, and she’s prepping her class for them—all day and all night for some reason.” He sighed. “Shouldn’t complain, she’s dedicated, but it’d be nice to speak to her once in a while.”

  “I couldn’t do her job.” Isabel hunched over to one side of the seat as Zander began driving. “I reckon teachers deserve a medal. Putting up with stroppy teenagers all day long.”

  “Hah. She says that about our job. She teaches primary school, which I guess is just as hard. So, what’s the plan of action for today?”

  Isabel sucked in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Ring Farrell and tell him we’ve recovered another of his paintings. Attend the post-mortem. Ring the hospital to see if they have any blood test results yet. Ring this Pastor Carson of yours about Gran’s funeral. Rebook the table tennis as we didn’t get there last night.”

  “I forgot all about that.” Guilt twisted at him.

  She shot him a smile. “Don’t worry. So did I. I just remembered. I also need to write up the incident board. Again.”

  Traffic was bad on the roads leading into town, and they barely made the meeting on time. Zander held the door open for Isabel, and they crept in, hoping to go unnoticed. But his size ten feet had other ideas and tripped him up, sending him crashing into the only unoccupied chair in the room.

  DI Holmes frowned. “Zander, where were you and Isabel?”

  “Just coming in by the looks of it, Guv,” Robert quipped.

  Everyone laughed.

  Zander’s cheeks heated, at the same time that Isabel blushed. He righted the chair for her to sit on and stood behind her. “Sorry Guv, the traffic is pants this morning.”

  “Lorry turned over on the motorway, so everything is diverted through town. Now you’re here… Three dead girls, all with the same MO. All have dark brown or black hair and brown eyes. All were found with one of the stolen paintings. The press has very kindly given him the moniker of the Prayer Slayer and I’m hoping that won’t encourage him. Each victim is bound as if praying, wearing white, with ‘guilty’ written on their foreheads.”

  “How’s he picking them?” DS Philips asked.

  Zander shrugged. “There are a few links, but nothing definable. Newgate Primary school is one of them. The first victim Iona worked there. The third Ashlyn was a nanny who collected kids from there each day. Actually, they also lived next door to each other. All three victims had attended the Keswick Convention three years ago and were due to go to the second week of New Wine this year. They attend different churches. Still waiting on the PM results and toxicology. I’ll chase it up this morning.”

  DI Holmes nodded. “Thanks. I’m assigning a couple more officers to help you. I’ll let you know who once I’ve allocated them.”

  Zander put a hand on Isabel’s shoulder. “On a different note, Guv. Isabel’s gran, Mrs. Kowalski, died in a house fire yesterday. You might know her from church.”

  Murmurs filled the room.

  The DI’s face fell. “Isabel, I’m so sorry. If you need time off, just take it.”

  Isabel shook her head. “I’d rather be here to be honest. She…lived opposite me. So home is honestly the last place I want to be right now.”

  “Do they know how the fire started?”

  “N—no. Not yet. The fire investigation team turned up shortly before I left this morning.”

  DI Holmes nodded. “Well, if you need anything, just shout.”

  Once the meeting was over, Zander headed to the incident board and stared at it, his hands in his pockets. They were missing something. He had no idea what.

  Isabel nudged him. “Maybe we re-write it. Get it all done sensibly?”

  “This isn’t sensible?” he asked.

  She snorted. “There are lines everywhere. I’m amazed it hasn’t set off your neat
genes.”

  DS Philips laughed. “My wife is like that—only we call its obsessive Christmas disorder. She’d keep the lights up outside the house all year if I’d let her. Never mind the tree. She has this little one in the kitchen I’m not allowed to touch.”

  Isabel grinned. “Woman after my own heart. Do we have another board?”

  “Why?” Zander asked. Half the time, he had no idea what went on in his partner’s head.

  “We should have two. With five commandments on each board. Just in case.”

  “Yeah, store room in the corridor,” he said. “Off you trot.”

  She nodded and left the room.

  “How’s the revision going?” DS Philips asked.

  Zander shrugged.

  “Zander? Not having second thoughts, are you?”

  He shoved his hand through his hair. “No. It’s just if I pass—and that’s an awfully big if—I’ll have to move, won’t I? I’ve just got used to Isabel, and I love this squad.”

  “Why move then?”

  He tilted his head. “We already have a Sarge—you. The Guv won’t want both of us.”

  Isabel came back in with the board and set it up. She grabbed the pen and began marking it up in rows and columns. She put a photograph of each victim at the top of the column, using the rows for all the relevant information.

  Zander helped by giving her the commandment, job, location found, accompanying painting, and anything else. “I really hope we don’t need all of these.”

  “Me too.” She wiped off the original board and began marking it up in the same way.

  Zander’s mobile rang. He pulled it from his pocket. “DC Ellery.”

  “Hi, it’s David James from the fire investigation team. You left a card with one of my team this morning and asked for an update when we knew the cause of the fire.”

  “Yes.”

  “It was an overloaded extension lead. So accidental.”

  “Thank you.” Zander hung up and glanced over at Isabel. “That was the fire investigation officer. Fire was an accident—overloaded socket.”

  Isabel nodded, a slight frown creasing her brow. “I’d wondered if it was a candle. She always had one burning.” She dropped into the chair behind her desk and kneaded the back of her neck. “OK, let’s get this out of the way.” She dialled the phone and put the call on speaker.

  “Abbey Gate Gallery,” a female voice answered.

  “Hi. This is DC York. Could I speak to Mr. Vixen please?”

  “One moment.” The line went quiet.

  Zander looked at her. “You don’t have to do this.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Izzy,” Farrell’s voice almost dripped down the line. “How are you?”

  She shook her head. “I just wanted to let you know we’ve retrieved another of the missing paintings. As with the others they are evidence in a separate inquiry.”

  “Oh?”

  “It may be some time before they can be returned to you, I’m afraid.”

  “So, I will have to hold the exhibition without them? I’ve already delayed a couple of weeks.” His tone changed, becoming more irate and louder.

  “Yes,” Isabel said. She paled, her hands shaking.

  Zander put a hand on her shoulder. “You’re doing great,” he mouthed.

  “Do you have any idea who stole them?” Farrell demanded.

  Zander rolled his eyes over dramatically.

  Isabel smiled faintly. “Not as yet. It’s a current investigation, and as soon as we make an arrest, you’ll be the first to know.” She ended the call and sucked in a deep breath. “OK.”

  He glanced at the clock. “What time did the hospital say to call?”

  “After eleven so it’s too early.”

  “Do that after the post-mortem then?”

  She nodded. “Speaking of which…”

  He grinned. “Don’t suppose you’re driving?”

  She tilted her head. “Nope. So, either you are, or we walk…”

  “I’ll drive.”

  She grabbed her bag. “Good choice.”

  Zander glanced over at DS Philips. “We’ll be at the morgue if you need us.”

  ~*~

  Isabel stood by the observation window. She’d finally worked out that if she stared at the far wall and not at the table, she didn’t get sick quite so fast.

  Zander grinned at her. “The first few PM’s I attended, we had to stand in the room with them. Some places they still do. At least they have the observation room here.”

  “Glad I don’t have to do that.”

  “I don’t miss it.” He returned his gaze to the window.

  Arend glanced up as he worked. “Patty told me you were asking about Mrs. Kowalski—the fire victim who came in yesterday.”

  “Yes,” Zander replied.

  Isabel closed her eyes, a further wave of sadness gripping her heart and squeezing.

  “I did her first thing this morning. Smoke inhalation, probably while she was sleeping as she was found in a chair nowhere near where the fire began. She was dead before the flames reached her.”

  “Oh…” Isabel gasped. Relief filled her, followed swiftly by guilt.

  “Thanks for that.” Zander laid a hand on her shoulder. “It’s OK, Isabel.”

  “Is it wrong to be glad she didn’t suffer?” Tears tracked down her cheeks, her voice wobbling despite her best efforts to keep control.

  “No, it isn’t. She fell asleep and awakened in the presence of her Saviour.”

  “Best way to go.” Isabel wiped her hands over her face.

  Zander handed her a tissue. “Yeah.”

  “When you two are quite ready,” Arend said.

  “Waiting for you,” Zander retorted.

  Isabel inhaled deeply and fixed her gaze on the far wall as the autopsy began.

  From below her, Arend worked, dictating his findings. “The blue fibres appear similar to the previous victims. Duct tape is again the same colour and make. Again, the same expensive red underwear. Might be worth checking to see if the girls were the customers or someone is buying it specifically.”

  “Will do. Any update on the other fibres?” Zander asked.

  “Carpet by the looks of it. I’ve sent them off to determine whether it’s house or car or whatever. Should get that confirmed today.”

  Isabel’s phone rang. Shoving down the sigh of relief, she pulled it from her bag, and glanced at the screen. “I have to take this. Sorry.” She scurried into the corridor to answer it. “DC York.”

  “Hi, it’s Carissa from the lab. I have those fingerprint results for you. The only ones on the cards themselves belonged to you and DC Ellery. The envelopes have a load, but we were expecting that.”

  Isabel frowned. “Just myself and DC Ellery? Are you sure?”

  “Yes. We ran it several times. I’ve emailed the report to you.”

  “Thank you.” She hung up and massaged the back of her neck.

  Just her prints and Zander’s? That made no sense whatsoever. What about the killers? She headed back into the observation room. “That was the lab. The only prints on the card are mine and yours.”

  “So, the perp wore gloves,” Zander said firmly. “Hardly a surprise.”

  She nodded. Had Zander touched all the cards? He must have done.

  Arend glanced up at the window. “Her tongue was removed post-mortem. It’s a clean cut. The killer knew what he was doing. You’ll need to find it.”

  Isabel baulked. “Us, personally?”

  “If you really want to.” Arend’s eyes twinkled over the mask. “But I actually meant you in general. Get uniform to search the area again.”

  Zander pulled out his phone. “I’ll get on it now.”

  Isabel shuddered. “You were kidding when you compared him to Jack the Ripper, right? I don’t want body parts showing up on my desk to accompany the letters.”

  Zander frowned. “Nor do I.” He turned away as the phone connected.

  I
sabel returned her gaze to the wall above Arend’s head.

  “She has the word guilty on her forehead in pen under the blood. I’ll need to test the ink to confirm, but it looks the same as the others.”

  “Is there an obvious cause of death this time?” Isabel asked.

  “Not one that leaps out at me.”

  “It’s like he’s just executing them. Do you have the tox screens back yet?”

  “No. I’ll hurry them up.”

  Zander put his phone away. “Go ring the hospital. It’s gone eleven.”

  “Now?” she asked.

  He nodded. “You look like you could do with some air anyway.”

  Not arguing, Isabel turned her back on the post-mortem beneath her. “Yeah. I’m getting better at this though.”

  He smiled. “You are.”

  Isabel made her way into the bright, warm sunshine outside the building. She sat on the wall beside Zander’s car and pulled her phone from her bag. She did want to ring, and at the same time, she didn’t. What if she’d picked something up from that needle stick? What if she was now really sick and… Get over it, Isabel. Whatever happens is what God has ordained for your life, and He’ll give you the strength to see it through. She dialled, looking out over the view as the call connected. “This is DC York. Dr. Jameson asked me to ring him after eleven.”

  “One moment and I’ll find him for you.”

  “Thank you.” Isabel took a deep breath. Then another and another. At least the weather was cooler today than it had been. Normal summer weather service had been resumed. The sun played hide and seek with the grey clouds.

  “DC York, this is Dr. Jameson.”

  “Hello.”

  “Thank you for calling. I have some of your results, but not all yet. The basic results are good. The Hep B and C ones are clear. Still waiting on the HIV but we should have them next week. I’ll give you a call once I receive them.”

  She caught her breath and closed her eyes. “OK.”

  “I do want you to have the rest of the course of Hep B vaccine. It won’t do any harm. If you have any other questions, just call me.”

  “OK. Thank you.” Isabel ended the call. The phone slid from her hand to the ground. Huge sobs erupted. All the pent-up emotion from the last twenty-four hours spilled out and overflowed.