Deadly Fallout (Detective Zoe Finch Book 6)

by Rachel McLean

  “Brum Boys?”

  “No.”

  “Am I going to guess this?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  Adi shook his head.

  Shit. This was impossible. “Has Sheila been involved in the identification?”

  A shrug.

  “D’you think she might have been?”

  “Yes.”

  “OK.” Zoe looked at Mo. “We need to talk to Sheila.”

  “You think she’ll help us?” Mo’s voice was low. The pub was quiet but they couldn’t be too careful. Zoe suddenly doubted the wisdom of holding this conversation in a pub they weren’t familiar with.

  She looked up at Adi. “Are there any new forensics? DNA, prints?”

  “Yes.”

  “Which?”

  He raised his eyebrows.

  “Prints?”

  A shake of the head.

  “DNA?”

  A nod.

  “You’ve matched it?”

  A shake.

  She slumped back. “So you’ve got DNA for the killer—”

  Adi raised a finger.

  “Not necessarily the killer. Who?”

  Adi stood straight. “I’m sorry, Zoe. This is getting too close to the knuckle. I suggest you talk to Sheila. Or Carl.”

  There was no way she was talking to Carl about this.

  “OK. Thanks, Adi.”

  He gave her shoulder a squeeze and left the pub.

  “Whose DNA d’you think it is?” she asked Mo.

  “If it isn’t the killer, or the victim…”

  “We didn’t ask Adi if it was the victim’s.”

  “We had that already, Zo. You asked him if there were any new forensics.”

  “You’re right. He didn’t say it wasn’t the killer, but he didn’t say it was. Which means they think someone else was in the house.”

  “Maybe that patio door,” Mo suggested.

  “Yeah.”

  “The patio door was broken into not long before the body was found. Maybe the DNA they have is the person who did that.”

  “I don’t get that. Starling was killed at least a week before we found him. He was dumped at some point in the intervening period. Adi might know when, but he’s not telling us.”

  “Not unless you drag him back in here for another game of twenty questions.”

  “I know. It’s not fair on him.”

  “Maybe we should leave well alone.”

  Zoe leaned forward. “But the badge. The bull in a ring. These two murders are connected. And I want to find out how before Carl comes in and takes the second case off us.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Zoe shrugged off her jacket as she closed the front door behind her. She was knackered. Subjecting Adi to those questions had been draining, and she felt bad about it. If PSD got wind of it, his job could be on the line. He was a civilian, more vulnerable than she was.

  She kicked off her shoes and slumped onto the sofa. She didn’t have the energy to find the remote. Maybe she’d just grab a blanket and sleep here.

  She was woken by the thud of paws on her legs. She sat up, smiling.

  “Yoda.”

  The cat chirruped at her as it made its way up her legs and onto her stomach. Zoe ruffled between its ears. “Where’s Nicholas?”

  “Miaow.”

  “Yeah, you don’t know either.” Zoe leaned back and called her son’s name. No answer.

  The cat looked startled, its ears pricked up. Zoe gave it a stroke. “Just you and me tonight, huh?”

  “Miaow.”

  The doorbell rang. Zoe eyed the cat. “Can you get that?”

  The cat cocked its head at her. She allowed herself a laugh and picked it up, placing it on the floor next to the sofa. “Guess it’s up to me.”

  She opened the front door and her heart clenched.

  “Carl.” She stepped back to let him pass.

  “Hey.” He passed her, not pausing to kiss her, and walked into the living room. “Hey, puss.”

  “Yoda,” Zoe said as she followed him in.

  “Hey, Yoda.” He picked the cat up and tickled it under the chin.

  “You’re here to take over my case,” Zoe said, her voice flat.

  Carl let the cat down to the arm of the sofa. “Don’t be like that.”

  She shrugged. “So you are.”

  “Not quite.” At least he had the decency to look chastened when he said it.

  “I’m SIO.”

  “The cases are linked, Zoe.”

  “You don’t have to tell me that.”

  “Look. The second case could be nothing. It could be a gang member who decided he wanted out. It could be someone from a rival gang. It might have nothing to do with DS Starling. But I need to know what leads you have.”

  “Which gang is it?”

  He gave her a stop it look.

  She thought back to what he’d said, a moment earlier: Not quite. “So you’re not taking over?”

  He stepped towards her. “I’m not. But I need you to tell me what you’ve got.”

  “You could have done this officially. Spoken to Dawson. Come into the office.”

  “I wanted to ask you face to face. Just you and me.”

  She let him put his arms around her. “OK,” she said. “But I need you to reciprocate.”

  “How so?”

  “Tell me what you’ve got from the Starling investigation. Have you analysed the DNA yet?”

  He stiffened, his hand heavy on her back. “It doesn’t work like that, Zoe.”

  She stepped back and placed a hand in the centre of his chest to push him away. “It never bloody does.”

  “Zoe…”

  She sat heavily on the sofa. Yoda jumped onto her lap and she swept the cat off. “I want us to work together. If this is a single investigation, then let’s treat it as one.”

  “Look. I’ll share with you what I can. But nothing sensitive. I wanted to do this amicably, Zoe. If you won’t tell me what’s happening with your case, I can always—”

  “I know what you can do.” She swallowed. “Alright, then.”

  She had little choice. Better to cooperate with Carl than to have Malcolm Rogers talk to David Randle and take yet another case off Force CID.

  She looked up at. him. “I’ll work with you.”

  His face softened. “I appreciate it, sweetie.”

  “Yeah.”

  He sat next to her. “Thanks.”

  She nodded. “I’m tired. I just want to go to bed.”

  “I can stay?”

  “Not tonight.” She stood up and made for the front door. “I just need some time alone, Carl. Nothing personal. We’ll talk tomorrow, yes?”

  He kissed his fingertips and brushed them against her cheek. She put her hand to it.

  “See you tomorrow. Zoe. I love you.”

  “Yeah.”

  I love you too, she thought as she closed the door behind him. But if she did, why did he piss her off so much?

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  “This has got to be quick,” Zoe said. “I have to be at the Crown Court in forty-five minutes.

  She was wearing her court clothes again, the navy trousers and grey jacket that didn’t quite work together, the feminine blouse and low heels instead of her usual boots and plain shirt. She felt trussed up like a turkey but she knew she had to create an impression.

  Connie, Rhodri and Mo were lined up in front of her. Dawson sat at the back of the room. Next to him, a smile flickering on his lips, was Carl.

  She watched him, feeling uneasy. She wondered who he’d spoken to before his visit last night. If Dawson had been in on it.

  “DI Whaley is sitting in because he’s linking our latest victim to the Raif Starling case. Member of the Organised Crime team will be liaising too, but they couldn’t send anyone this morning.” She glanced back at the board, where they still had their notes on that case. She wondered if Carl would order her to remove the
m.

  “Right,” she continued. “We’ve not got much time and we’ve got company, so we’ll shift back to our usual format. Hope you don’t mind, you two.” She looked at the constables.

  “No worries, boss.” said Rhodri. Connie nodded and licked her lips. Zoe knew that Carl made her nervous. Another thing she had to get past if she was going to make sergeant.

  “Good. So we’ve got four lines of inquiry on the Chelmsley Wood case.” She pointed to the board. “We talked about these last night, and you guys allocated roles. Connie, you’re heading over to the morgue this morning for the post-mortem, yes?”

  “Ten am, boss.”

  “Good. I’ll call you when I get a moment at the trial, see how you got on.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “It’s not a welfare call. I want to know what the report tells us. If we’re any closer to identifying him.”

  “Oh. Sorry.”

  “It’s OK.” The body was in a gruesome state; she wasn’t surprised Connie was looking a little grey around the gills.

  “Rhodri, you’re on forensics. Yala’s the crime scene manager, find out if she’s going to be there today.”

  “They finished packing the evidence away last night, boss. She told me she’ll be going back for a final once-over later this morning then closing the scene.”

  “That was quick.”

  “Not a huge amount of evidence preserved.”

  “No. Anyway, I suggest you meet her there. Always better to get a feel for the scene instead of looking at the photos.”

  “That’s what I was thinking.”

  “The priority is identification of the body. Ask her to sit on the lab, get that DNA analysis fast-tracked.”

  “No problemo.”

  Zoe rolled her eyes. “Good. Mo, you happy to take CCTV?”

  “Of course. We’ve already got footage from the supermarket. I’ll head over there with Rhodri, see if I can find any other locations that might have captured anything.”

  “What about you, boss?” asked Connie.

  “Sorry?”

  “We didn’t allocate you a task.”

  Zoe smiled at her. “You were too reluctant to order me around, if I remember right.”

  At the back of the room, Dawson cleared his throat. Zoe wrinkled her nose.

  “I’ll coordinate,” she said. “I’ve got the trial to contend with, and I’ll be liaising with DI Whaley about links to the Starling case.”

  “Such as what?” asked Rhodri.

  “All we have right now is the badge at our scene, which corresponds to a symbol that was scratched into the wall at the Starling scene.” She looked at Carl. “Can you fill us in on that?”

  Carl joined her in front of the board. “It’s a sensitive case and I can’t tell you anything that isn’t directly linked to your own investigation. But we do think this symbol indicates a possible link between the two crimes.”

  “What is it?” asked Connie. “I’ve never seen it before.”

  Carl sighed. “It’s the callsign of a gang.”

  “Hamm’s lot?” asked Rhodri.

  “I may as well tell you,” Carl said. “It’s a new gang. I’m sure Organised Crime can fill you in on the details. But what it does mean is that I need you to share anything with me from your case that relates to this symbol and potentially to the gang.”

  “And you’ll share yours with us?” Mo asked.

  Carl glanced at Zoe. She gazed back at him, not letting him see her reaction.

  “Sorry,” he said. “Too sensitive. But anything you can give me will be very helpful.”

  Rhodri muttered under his breath. Zoe flashed him a warning look and he stiffened.

  “Sorry folks, but that’s the way it is,” said Dawson. “Now, Zoe said she needed to get this over and done with. I suggest you all bugger off and do your jobs.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  “What’s this?” David turned towards Anita from the fridge, holding up a jar of chutney.

  She felt a chill wash down her.

  “It’s new. From the deli in Great Western Arcade. I thought we’d try it.”

  “Says Fortnum and Mason.”

  She shrugged. “It looked nice.”

  “You spending all our money on posh food, now?”

  “It’s just a jar of chutney.” She took it off him and placed it back in the fridge. She closed the door. “What do you need?”

  “Just getting milk for a coffee.”

  “I can do that. You sit down.” She could feel her heart pounding in her ears.

  He gave her a suspicious look but did as he was told, sitting at the kitchen table and pulling his phone out while he waited.

  She clattered around the kitchen, pouring the coffee she’d already brewed and grabbing the milk jug. She spilled some on the floor and cursed herself.

  He held out a hand for the mug and looked back down at his phone. “Thanks.”

  “That’s OK.” She stood at the fridge, watching him.

  After a few moments, he looked up. “What?”

  “Sorry?”

  “You’re freaking me out.”

  She blinked. “I’m just looking at my husband.” She tried smiling.

  “Well, don’t.” He slammed the mug down on the table. “I’m running late.” He pecked her on the forehead as he passed. “Kiss the girls for me.”

  “It would be much nicer if you kissed them yourself.” She turned to call up the stairs. “Carly! Maria!”

  He frowned. “I haven’t got time. You can do it.”

  Maria thundered down the stairs. “She said I can’t have the leather jacket I wanted for my birthday.”

  “Who did?” asked Anita, snapping into this new conversation.

  “Carly, of course. I hate her.”

  “Carly has no say in what you get for your birthday, darling,” said Anita. She stroked her daughter’s hair, resisting the urge to lean in and smell it. “Don’t you worry.”

  “More expense,” said David.

  Anita turned to him. “You’re doing well. You got that promotion. And you told me we could have the extension that we’ve been talking about for so long. Surely you don’t begrudge—”

  He waved a hand. “It’s fine. I’ve got to go.”

  “Bye, Dad.” Maria gave him a sheepish look. Anita tried to remember the last time he’d spent time with his daughters.

  “Bye, sweetheart. Be a good girl for your mum.” He turned to the front door.

  “You’re not dressed,” Anita told Maria. “Quick, you’ve got to leave in ten minutes.”

  “That’s an age.”

  “Just get a move on!”

  Maria rolled her eyes and trudged up the stairs. Anita hurried outside to join David in the driveway. He had his car door open.

  She put a hand on his back. “Is everything alright?’

  He shrugged her off. “I worry about money. That’s all.”

  “I don’t mean that. You seem… distracted lately.”

  He turned to her, his face dark. She flinched.

  “In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve got this fucking trial to deal with. Then there’s… nothing.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing. Just leave it.”

  “You can talk to me, darling. I won’t tell anyone.”

  When he’d been a DI he’d talked to her about all his cases. She’d even helped him see links in a couple of them that had led to an arrest. But now…

  “I can’t, Anita. Don’t be so naive.”

  “Maybe not the details of your cases. But if there’s anything that’s troubling you… I can be a friendly ear.”

  He scowled at her, and grunted as he got into the car. He pulled the door shut.

  As the car started to move, she backed away from it, her body feeling full and empty at the same time. She gave him a little wave. He responded with a nod.

  At least it was something. He wasn’t ignoring her…. yet. Not all of the time.

/>   The car left the drive and Anita went inside. Look at me, she thought as she caught herself in the mirror. Letting him treat her like this. Like a mouse.

  Was she turning into Margaret Jackson?

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Zoe dashed out of the station and made for her car. She checked her watch: 8:45am. She was running late.

  As she dropped into the driver’s seat, her phone rang. She plugged it into the car’s system as she reversed out of her spot.

  “DI Finch.”

  “That’s very formal.”

  Zoe’s heart sank. “Mum. I’m on my way to something important.”

  “So am I. Well, later.”

  “Oh?” It was rare for Annette to go out. Drinking at home was cheaper.

  “I’ve got a hospital appointment. Six-month follow up from my mini-stroke.”

  Annette had suffered the stroke in October, when Zoe was working the Jackson murder case. “Sorry, Mum. I didn’t know.”

  “I forgot myself. Doris next door reminds me, I show her all my letters so I won’t forget things.”

  Zoe glanced in the rear-view mirror as she turned onto the Harborne Road heading into the city. She knew her mum was prone to forgetting things, but didn’t realise she’d come up with a system to get round it.

  “It’s at quarter past three, love.”

  “Where?” Zoe reached the Hagley Road and turned right, heading into town.

  “The QE,” Annette replied.

  “You know where you’re going?”

  “They’ve sent me a map. But you can show me, you go there all the time for work.”

  Zoe closed her eyes briefly. “I’m working, Mum.”

  “Surely you can tell them you’re out on a case. It won’t take long.”

  “I’m giving evidence at a trial today. There’s no way I can duck out of that.”

  “Afterwards?”

  “Surely you can get the bus?”

  Annette’s voice dropped an octave. “I hate the bus.”

  That was the first Zoe had heard of it. Her mum used the bus often enough to get from her house in Kings Norton to Zoe’s in Selly Oak.

  “You’ll be fine.” She was near the Crown Court now. She needed to concentrate on finding a space. “I’ve got to go.”

  “Zoe, please—”