“We’ve found another body, this one dumped on some waste ground in Chelmsley Wood. There was a symbol found at both, the callsign of a gang.”
“You think they’re connected.”
“Turns out the second body is Howard Petersen.”
Lesley whistled. “Well, shag me sideways.”
“Yeah.”
“OK, Zoe. You know what you have to do on this. Tell Frank. It’s his job to make the call to PSD.”
“Petersen was one of the Canary paedophile ring. No reason to think he’s linked to police corruption.”
“Zoe, wake up. Who was SIO on Canary?”
“Randle.”
“And you want him taking over this one?”
“No.”
A grunt. “The only people who can take it off him are PSD. Malcolm Rogers needs to know.”
“I’m at Lloyd House.”
There was a pause. “Bloody hell, Zoe. You do like to stick your nose in, don’t you?”
“DI Whaley is working with my team, liaising on the two investigations. I have a reason to bring him in on this.”
“It’s your funeral, Zoe. And your boyfriend. Just watch what you say, and who you say it to.”
“Of course.”
“I don’t suppose there’s any way I can talk you out of this, persuade you to go to Frank?”
Zoe said nothing.
“Thought so. OK, well good luck Zoe.”
“Ma’am.”
“Don’t call me that. I’m not your boss anymore.”
“You’re still my senior officer.”
“On medical leave.”
“Ma’am, before you go…?”
“What else?” Zoe heard Lesley mutter to someone in the background.
“You were talking about a call you had, when we spoke the other night.”
“Oh, that. It was nothing.”
“Not related to this case at all?”
“It was Anita Randle. She thinks David’s having an affair with some young woman.”
“I doubt he’d have the time.”
“Exactly.”
Zoe gripped her phone. “Hang on. Who is this young woman?”
“I didn’t ask, Zoe. I’ve got no bloody idea.”
Zoe thought back to the photo of Randle and the New Street bomber that the forensics team had found. She’d told Sheila Griffin about it but had no idea if Organised Crime had pursued it.
“Did she get hold of that photo?” Zoe asked. “The one with Alina Popescu?”
“I damn well hope not, Zoe. But if she did, that’s between her and David. I’m not sticking my big fat hooter in there.”
“No. Thanks, boss.”
“You’ve talked to Sheila about that, yes?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“I left it with her.”
“That’s not like you.”
“I’ve been preoccupied.”
“Sounds like it. OK, probably for the best. Leave well alone.”
“Yes, boss.”
“Lesley’s my name.”
“OK, Lesley.” Zoe flinched at the use of the word; it felt odd on her tongue.
“Take it easy, Zoe. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.”
Zoe stifled a laugh and hung up. Her phone was blinking: Connie.
“Hey Connie, PM all done?” She walked further down the street next to Lloyd House as she spoke. At this rate she was never going to get to see Carl.
“Sort of, boss.”
“Sort of?”
“She kicked me out.”
“You didn’t throw up on her shiny white floor, did you?”
“I held it together. Just.”
Zoe smiled. “So why did she kick you out?”
“She smelled something, on the body. Got all funny after that, then told me to leave.”
“What did she smell?”
“She didn’t say. But it was a bit like garlic. The doctor said—”
“Garlic,” interrupted Zoe. “That can indicate the presence of arsenic.”
“Yeah. But the state of him. I just assumed he was beaten up.”
“He might have been that as well, Connie. But if arsenic was the cause of death, then it’ll be in the report. I don’t get why she kicked you out, though.”
Two uniformed constables walked past Zoe. She turned towards the wall.
“She said she had to talk to Superintendent Rogers,” Connie told her. “I think it was the same as Starling.”
“She found arsenic on that body too?”
“She didn’t say. But that’s what I reckon.”
Zoe looked up the hill towards the front of the building. “OK, Connie. You get back to the office. I’ve got someone to talk to, and I’ll see you there.”
“Yeah… that’s the problem.”
“What is?”
“I got a flat on my bike. Didn’t replace the spare inner tube after the last time it happened.”
“Where are you now?”
“On a bus from City Hospital into town.”
“You should have called a cab.”
“I’m used to the bus.”
Zoe rolled her eyes. “I won’t be long here. Meet me outside Lloyd House, twenty minutes. We’ll drive back to the office together.”
“Thanks.”
“No problem.” Connie whizzing around the city on her bike wasn’t good enough. “See you shortly, Connie.”
Zoe hung up and strode up the hill, hurrying to the building’s entrance.
Chapter Forty-Five
It was two pm now, and the manager of the gym had no excuse to send them away. Two men were hanging around outside, waiting to be let in. One was white with a shaved head, wearing a grey hoodie. The other was black with intricate designs shaved into his hair.
Mo stood beside them with Rhodri hanging behind, waiting for the door to open. The two men kept glancing at them, their faces hard. They might as well have been wearing uniform, they were so obviously police.
“Shouldn’t we be heading over to Four Oaks, Sarge?” Rhodri muttered, leaning in towards Mo.
“I don’t want to leave this one till tomorrow. It won’t take long.”
Rhodri shrugged.
After a minute or so, the woman appeared. She let the two customers in and stared at Mo.
“You again.”
“It’s two pm. You’re open.”
“Doesn’t mean I have to let you in.”
“I’m working on a murder inquiry. Your CCTV might help us identify the perpetrator. I can get a warrant and come back later, but it’d be much easier for you if I—”
“Oh, bloody come on then. You won’t find anything.” She stood back. Mo squeezed past her, followed by Rhodri. Rhodri had paled and was staring at the woman.
Mo frowned at him. “Where will I find the recordings?” he asked the woman.
“You won’t.” She closed the door behind them.
“Sorry?”
“I told you, we wipe them in the morning.”
“Every day?”
Rhodri pointed towards the door. “That’s a Bascom high-def system. Digital. Why would you delete recordings, when you can just keep them on your computer?”
“We like to be tidy.” Her voice was harsh, the Scottish accent stronger than before.
“You gonna let us check?” Rhodri asked.
She put her hands on her hips. “You got that warrant?”
“OK,” said Mo. “Can we come upstairs briefly? It would be helpful to see the view from your windows.”
“We have blinds.”
“Still…”
“Privacy. Our clients like to be secure. You won’t see nothin’.”
“Are you going to let us come up and look?”
She eyed Rhodri, who was staring at her, then looked back at Mo. “Go on, then. Won’t do you any good.”
“Thanks.” Mo pushed down a sigh and hurried up the stairs. At the top he came out into a large space with a boxing ring at
one end and mats at the other.
“You’re a boxing gym,” he said.
“Boxing, other stuff. Keeps ’em out of trouble.” She nodded towards the two young men who were next to the ring, wrapping bandages around their hands.
“And you open from two pm to midnight every day.”
“We do.”
“I’d like to speak to your clients over the last three days, if that’s possible.”
“I don’t fuckin’ know who our clients were over the last three days.”
“You’re not a membership gym?”
“We are, we aren’t. Flexible. No idea who’s been here.”
Mo doubted that. He glanced at Rhodri, who’s eyes were alight. He looked like he might explode.
“What is it, Constable?”
Rhodri’s eyes didn’t leave the woman. “Nothing, Sarge.”
Mo frowned at him. Rhodri pulled his gaze away from the woman and blinked at Mo. “Sorry, Sarge.”
“Hmm.” Mo turned to the woman. “I’ll be back.”
“With a warrant?”
“Maybe.”
“Good luck getting one. We havnae done nothin’ wrong.”
“We’ll see about that.” Mo descended the stairs, Rhodri behind him. The woman slammed the door behind them.
“What was all that about?” he asked Rhodri. “You looked like you’d seen a ghost.”
“It’s that woman, Sarge. I know her.”
“You do?”
Rhodri nodded violently. “Her name’s Sheena McDonald. To be honest I thought she’d be in prison. She was the one that managed the brothel, where Trevor Hamm was keeping those Romanian women.”
Chapter Forty-Six
“How’s things?” Carl rounded his desk and approached Zoe, his arms outstretched. They exchanged a brief hug, Carl watching over her shoulder to be sure no one would see.
“I’ve given my evidence now, so we’re safe to talk.”
“I know.”
“And I need to tell you something. Two things.”
He rounded the desk and stood in front of his chair. “OK.”
Zoe didn’t like having the desk as a barrier between them. She shifted to its side, Carl at an angle to her.
“It’s the body we found in Chelmsley Wood,” she said.
“You’ve got further with the symbol.”
“Not that. We’ve got pathology evidence, and DNA.”
His eyebrows rose. “That was quick.”
“Adi fast-tracked it.”
“Tell me, then.”
She chewed her bottom lip. “I need to know you’re not going to boot me off this, Carl.”
“Why don’t you tell me what you’ve got, then I can decide what’ll happen.”
“Don’t talk to me like I’m one of your sergeants. I’m SIO on this case.”
“If it’s corruption-related, you know we have to step in.”
Her face felt tight. He was right.
“So are you going to tell me?”
“Adana, that’s the pathologist,” she told him. “Dr Adebayo. She’ll be sending you a report. I don’t have all the details but she seems to have found evidence of arsenic poising.”
Carl put a hand on the desk. “Arsenic?”
“That’s what you found on Starling, isn’t it?”
His face darkened. “What about the DNA?”
“We’ve got a match.”
“For your guy in Chelmsley Wood?”
“Yup.”
He waited for her to elaborate.
“It’s Howard Petersen,” she said.
“The same Howard Petersen who—”
“Canary. Yes, that’s the one.”
He sat down. “OK.”
“No reason to think it’s corruption, Carl. It’s organised crime. If anyone should be stepping in, it’s Sheila Griffin.”
He looked up at her. “If this is linked to Canary, then the SIO on that case will need to be informed.”
“David Randle.”
Carl nodded. “I’m going to have to talk to my Super.”
“We both know Randle’s dodgy.” Zoe lowered her voice. “The photo, with Alina Popescu.”
“We can’t discuss that, Zoe.”
We can’t discuss anything these days, she thought. “He’s due to appear in court today. He’s a witness at Ian Osman’s trial.”
“How did your evidence go?”
“The barrister made me look like an idiot.”
“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.” He cocked his head. “Where’s the original of the photo?”
“That photo is evidence in the Magpie case.”
“It’s not, Zoe. It’s evidence in the Jackdaw investigation.”
“The Jackdaw investigation?”
“Forget I said that. Where’s the original?”
“Evidence store for Magpie.”
“Right. This is out of your hands now, Zoe. All of it.”
“No. Until we get more on Petersen—”
He leaned across the desk. “I’ve got no choice but to talk to my boss. You’ll be formally questioned. Layla will do it. Or Superintendent Rogers.”
Zoe nodded. “Fine.”
Chapter Forty-Seven
Connie was outside Lloyd House, looking uneasy, when Zoe emerged.
“Everything OK, boss?”
“Yes.” Zoe didn’t break stride. “I’m parked in the multi-storey on Dalton Street.”
“No problem.” Connie hurried to keep up. “Thanks for this.”
‘It’s fine.” Zoe strode ahead, her skin hot. Carl was going to move it up the line, and she’d be formally interviewed. As a witness in this Jackdaw case he referred to? She could only assume that was the investigation into Randle.
Who else? How far did this go? Was DS Starling a part of it? Was that why he’d died? And if so, what the hell was that bull symbol? She’d never seen any sign of it around Hamm.
She stopped at Steelhouse Lane, glancing down the hill towards the old central police station, where she’d worked for three years. She waited for the lights to change, jabbing her fingernails into her thigh. “Come on,” she muttered.
The pedestrian light switched to green and Zoe sped across. “Come on.”
“Sorry.” Connie picked up pace. “You sure there’s nothing wrong?”
Zoe said nothing. What was there to say? She was about to lose her second case in as many days, and Carl thought she was an idiot.
They reached the car park and she slowed. “I’m sorry, Connie. You don’t deserve this. Tell me more about the post-mortem.”
They walked as Connie filled her in. She talked about the state the body had been in, the size of him, even taking into account the bloating.
“Petersen was a big man,” Zoe said. “Blonde hair.”
“The body had blonde hair.”
“Yes, well we’ve got a DNA match. It isn’t as if there’s any doubt.”
Connie stopped walking just for a second, as if she was about to trip.
At the car, Zoe yanked open the driver’s door. “We need to get back to the office. I’ll talk to Dawson. Sheila, too.”
“DS Griffin?”
“You know any more Sheilas?” Zoe turned the ignition and backed out of her space, almost hitting a car passing behind. “Shit.”
“Boss, d’you want me to drive?”
Zoe turned to the constable, her heart pumping fast. “Can you even drive?”
“You can’t join the force without a licence. Course I can drive.”
“When was the last time you drove?”
“In Uniform I drove a panda car a few times. Did bike patrol mainly.” Connie smiled.
“I want you to get a car.”
Connie looked shocked. “How?”
“It’s not good enough, you getting around on that bloody bike. Where is it anyway?”
“Locked up in the bike rack at City Hospital.”
“What if you need to get from one end of the city to the other?
”
“I can take a cab, like you said. I can get Rhodri to drive me.”
“Rhodri isn’t always going to be available.”
They had left the car park behind and were heading through the city centre traffic.
“I can’t buy a car,” Connie said. Her voice was tight.
“Just something second hand, like Rhodri.”
“My mum relies on me for money. There’s Zaf’s tuition fees to pay. She only does the odd bit of cleaning work. It’s…”
Zoe pulled herself up short. She slumped into her seat. “Oh, hell. I’m sorry, Connie. I’ve had a row with – I’ve had a row with someone, and I’m taking it out on you. You don’t deserve this.”
“Is it anything I can help with?”
Zoe glanced at Connie. They were approaching the Bristol Road. How had she ended up on this route?
“Thanks, Connie. It’s fine. I need to deal with it myself.” She thought of Carl’s face as she had left his office. He’d never looked at her like that.
The cars up ahead were stationary. Zoe slapped the wheel as she stopped behind them. “Damn.”
“If we’d gone via Five Ways…”
“I know. I wasn’t concentrating. It’s, what, half past two?”
“Ten past three.”
“Rush hour shouldn’t have started yet. What’s going on?”
“Roadworks, maybe. They had them near the uni last month.”
“There was nothing this morning.” Zoe turned to Connie. “OK, let’s not worry about the traffic. We’ll get there eventually. I want you to recap on where we are with the Petersen case. Where do you think the investigation should go next?”
“Surely it’s out of our hands now.”
“Assume it isn’t. Tell me what you’d do.”
“Well, we need to talk to Petersen’s family. It might just be a domestic.”
“I doubt it, but yes. Mo and Rhodri are there already.”
“And then there’s Jory Shand.”
Zoe gripped the wheel. “Jory Shand. The other bastard who got off. You’re right.” She nodded. “What else?”
“Well…”
“Yes?”
“If both men had that callsign on them, and both of them were killed by arsenic poisoning, we can assume they were killed by the same person. Or people.”
“Yes.”
“A gang?” Connie suggested.
“I don’t know of a gang with that callsign, but we have to assume Sheila’s on it.”
Deadly Fallout (Detective Zoe Finch Book 6) Page 15