“We spoke briefly on the phone earlier about the murder in Hopecross,” Rocco said, seating himself on the chair facing Sandy Cole. “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 probably looking for a woman. We don’t know her age but she was possibly dressed as an elderly woman. She’d have been going to a house three doors up from the one you were watching.”
Rocco gave Sandy Cole a few moments to think about it then watched as he accessed a file of photos on his computer.
“This could be her. I snapped her almost unconsciously — I was taking photos of anything that moved — out of boredom.” He laughed. “People think I live such a glamorous life but they’re quite wrong — it’s sheer hard slog that wins a case in the end.”
“Same with us, mate.”
“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. I couldn’t hear what she was saying of course, I was too far away.”
“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.”
“Was the bag big enough to hold a weapon, a large knife for example?”
“No, it was more like one of those little clutch jobs. Here she is.” He beckoned Rocco to his side of the desk. “Knifed then, was she?”
“I’m not supposed to say. Not yet anyway.”
The image wasn’t particularly clear but Sandy was able to enlarge and enhance it somewhat as Rocco looked. It was definitely a woman. Her face was fuzzy in the poor light but she had the right colour hair — grey — and was wearing glasses.
“It could be the stick, you know.” Sandy zoomed in closer. “See, it’s one of those old jobbies. They sometimes had a blade hidden inside. That could be your murder weapon. I’ll print you a copy and email the original. She was going three doors up as you say. 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.”
Another visitor? The team were under the impression that the good doctor didn’t have much of a social life.
“Who is it, do you know? Rocco asked.
“No, but she’s a looker,” Sandy said, showing him a second photo. “See what I mean? Quite a stunner. She very often stays all night — something going on there, mark my words.”
So Tariq Ahmed hadn’t been the loner 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, annoyed 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 — as ever. In fact we’ve just had words about it. We don’t often argue, but just lately she’s become 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 as she led the way into the sitting room.
“Hi Tom!” Jake Ireson greeted him. “I’m going to leave you two to it. I’ve got a mountain of marking to get through — mock A levels.” He grimaced.
Tom saw the pile of papers and books and didn’t envy him his job.
“He’s already eaten,” Ruth told Tom. “So there’s no excuse; we can have that talk now.”
“What talk?” Jake asked.
“You keep out of it,” Ruth warned lightly. “Tom and I have some old business — family business — that needs sorting.”
“See you later, then,” Jake said, giving them both a smile.
“Are you two getting on better these days?”
“We’re getting on very well, Tom. He’s really good to have around, and I’ve decided that I wouldn’t want to be without him.”
Calladine wasn’t in the mood to hear any romantic stuff, not while things between him and Lydia were so strained. 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. Lydia was utterly different from Monika and his attraction to her 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. Things were only going to get worse.
“You’ve got the place nice.” Calladine changed the subject. “You’ve decorated — and you’ve bought some new furniture.”
“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? Are you two an item, a proper item, or what?”
She laughed again and he watched her take a single glass from the cupboard. Not important, but why wasn’t she joining him?
“I certainly hope so,” she replied, and then paused for a few seconds. “I really don’t want to do the next bit on my own.” A small smile hovered about her lips.
She was trying to tell him something. He scratched his head. He hated it when women got like this. There was an odd sort of silence. He could hear the 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 another, longer silence. Had he heard her right? Had Ruth Bayliss really just told him that she was with child? He banged his right ear lightly — perhaps he was hearing things.
“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 back into the kitchen. This was a bombshell. She was pregnant. His sergeant. The woman who’d been his work partner for so long that he couldn’t recall when she hadn’t been around, 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. “I mean — is it what you want? A child? At your age?”
Her eyes widened and she gave him a little slap 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.
He could have bitten his tongue off. That sounded so selfish. She had every right to be thrilled, and he, silly bugger, was only thinking about work.
* * *
But that was the crux of it. Ruth knew how well they worked together and how long that relationship had taken to hone. She laughed off his remark, but she was secretly flattered that he
could acknowledge that he needed her. They were a solid team that had been built up over years of solving cases together and trusting each other’s 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 I’ll be back as normal. You’ll have to make do with Rocco for a bit, that’s all.”
“That is supposed to reassure me, is it? Motherhood, babies, they can do strange things to a woman’s reasoning powers. Your powers of detection could be irreparably impaired — not to mention what this revelation’s doing to my head.”
“Get over yourself, that’s old-fashioned sexist thinking. A few months and I’ll be back. With a bit of luck you won’t even realise I’ve been gone.”
“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 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. Shall we eat, and forget the baby news for now? We’ve got you to sort out, remember? That’s why you’re here tonight.”
“Not sure I’m ready — if I’ll ever be ready. And anyway, do we have to spoil the evening, and your great news, with this?”
“We’re not spoiling the evening,” Ruth insisted, depositing the tin box on the dining table. “It’s time you took ownership of this. You need to look at the letters and photos inside. Really look.”
“You said you were making pie?”
“Pour 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.
“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 later the pie dish was empty. Ruth smiled. Calladine was like Jake: he had a good appetite. She watched him help himself to more wine. He tapped on 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; she said so in the 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 Freda loved you, remember. You were the innocent party, an infant, probably quite cute too.” Ruth grinned.
“Probably very cute in fact.” He smiled 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.”
He was at it again — refusing to face up to things. He was one of the most level-headed men she knew, so why was his personal life always such a mess? Ruth was about to lay into him when Calladine’s mobile rang. It was Rocco.
* * *
“I’ve got something, sir!” 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, sir. 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. Hurst is her married name, sir. Prior to that she was Samantha Buckley, you know one of the Buckleys.”
The Buckley family was like royalty in Leesworth. Calladine knew they owned a large factory on Leesworth Industrial Estate, and employed numbers 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 and have a rest. Good work. You’ve done well.”
A breakthrough of sorts at last, something they really needed. He took another swig of the wine.
“What’s Rocco got?” Ruth asked.
“Turns out 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.”
At the sound of the name he saw Ruth’s face fall then turn several shades paler than normal.
“One of the pharmaceutical Buckleys?”
“I believe so, yes,” he confirmed.
“In that case we might have a problem.”
Chapter 8
“Why? We’ll go easy and do our best not to upset anybody.”
“No, it’s not that.” Ruth cleared her throat. “This is one time in my life when I really wish I could have a glass of wine.”
She had him worried now — what was it she knew?
“You need to know about Eve Walker,” she told him finally.
“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 persistent if nothing else. What truth? This?” He rapped on the box. “This is my personal life. It won’t interfere with my work. I won’t let it.”
“This time it might.” She paused, looking up at his puzzled face. “You see, she’s not Walker anymore. She got married years ago.”
“Ruth, please. I can live without this and especially now.” She was making him edgy. He was nowhere near ready for the truth about his past, so why couldn’t she leave it like he’d asked?
“No, you can’t live without it for one very good reason.”
There was a silence. Ruth was staring at him. He couldn’t make her out. What was it she knew, and why all the going on about that bloody tin?
“You have to know because she’s Eve Buckley now.”
More silence as the penny dropped.
“Buckley — as in . . ?”
“Yes, Tom, as in the pharmaceutical Buckleys,” she confirmed. “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 stunned. A half-sister — a sibling. Another bit of knowledge that 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 had 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 probably know, and that could well 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 al
l this when he wasn’t up to dealing with it? 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 making his head hurt. He wasn’t ready to sort this out.
“I’m sorry Ruth but this is 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 tipsy. Jake will take you. He needs to get petrol for tomorrow anyway,” she said, getting up to go and fetch him.
It had been a night and a half and he couldn’t take any more. Fresh air was what he needed, that and a gallon of coffee. 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 and 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.”
“More’s the pity,” he said, kissing her cheek. “Thanks. Lovely meal. I’ll be better company in the morning, once I’ve mulled it over. No need to drag Jake out, I’ll leave my car here and walk. 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.
One meal, an evening spent with a friend, and he had a whole heap of stuff to think about. 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. For her, he was merely a means to an end, a channel for the information she needed. It was a sobering thought. And then there was the Buckley thing. The Buckley thing made him feel sick.
Bayliss & Calladine Box Set Page 42