Deadly Fallout (Detective Zoe Finch Book 6)

by Rachel McLean

  “You’re building a case,” said Connie.

  “That’s what DCI Clarke would tell us to do, and that’s what the DI needs from us now.”

  His phone rang: Zoe.

  “Boss, where have you been?”

  “Can’t talk long. I’m at the gym, we’re about to go in. I reckon Randle’s wife is in there, Hamm’s lot abducted her.”

  “They did what?”

  “Long story. But Sheila’s told me about the Jag you saw at the reservoir. We just walked right past it outside Hamm’s house.”

  “You want me to get over there? I’ve got the team building a case.”

  “We’ll have plenty of time for that,” she said. “Grab one of them, and get over to that house. Uniform are on their way.”

  “What about Force Response?”

  “I’ve got PS Ford with me here. He’s called for another team to head over there.”

  “This is it.”

  “It is, Mo. We need to act fast.”

  “I’m there.”

  Mo shoved his phone into his pocket. Connie was on the phone, trying to identify more CCTV sources. Rhodri was leaning into his screen.

  The proof that Hamm owned the car, and the business, was crucial. Without it, the bastard would slip through their fingers again.

  “DC Solsby, you take over from Connie. Connie, with me.”

  Chapter Eighty-Seven

  A scrawny woman with spiked purple hair ran down the stairs as Ford’s team burst through the door. Zoe ran in behind them, Sheila after her.

  Zoe snapped at the woman. “Sheena MacDonald?”

  “Yeah. What the fuck’s going on?

  “We have a warrant to search this property.” Zoe shoved her mobile in the woman’s face, the copy of the authorisation Randle had obtained.

  Where was he?

  “On what grounds?” the woman spat. “I’m calling my lawyer.”

  Zoe stood in front of her. “Edward Startshaw?”

  “What’s it to you?”

  “Nothing.”

  The Force CID officers were already at the top of the stairs. Two more were downstairs, she could hear them moving though the building.

  A door crashed open at the top of the stairs and two young black men ran out. They stared at the uniformed officers, faces full of shock. One threw his hands in the air.

  “We ain’t done nothing.”

  The two PCs turned them to face the wall and patted them down.

  “No weapons, ma’am.”

  “Drugs?”

  “Nothing.”

  Zoe took the stairs two at a time. “Who are you? What are you doing here?”

  The man closest to her wore a pair of grubby shorts and a vest that was torn at the shoulder. “Just doin’ a bit of boxing, like.”

  “They’re customers,” MacDonald called up. “Leave them alone.”

  “Yeah.” The young man nodded at Zoe, his sweaty hair bobbing.

  “Get back in there. We’ll need to talk to you.” She pointed to the door the men had come through and followed them in. This was the space Connie had described. A large gym, boxing ring at the far end. A door beyond it, high windows on both sides.

  Two of Ford’s team were at the door, making ready to break through. They crashed through it then emerged after a few moments.

  “Clear.”

  Damn. Zoe turned back towards the stairs.

  “These two need to give statements.”

  “I’ll keep an eye on them, ma’am.”

  “Cheers. Bring MacDonald up here, too.”

  Zoe went with the other PC, a woman, back to the stairs.

  “Do I know you?”

  “PC Janek, ma’am. I was there when we raided that kennels in Harmans Cross.”

  The day they’d found Zaf. “Right,” Zoe said. “Thanks.”

  “Just doing my job, ma’am. What now?”

  Zoe pointed to another door leading off the stairs. “Through there.”

  PC Janek opened the door and went ahead, another of her colleagues following her.

  “It’s clear.”

  Zoe followed them into a large room, not as big as the gym but still spacious. It stank of urine.

  “What’s that?” she pointed to an object against the far window.

  PC Janek picked up a shoe with her weapon. “Woman’s slipper, ma’am.”

  Zoe frowned. No one would wear slippers to a gym.

  “She’s here. Anita Randle. Find her!”

  The room had no other doors. Janek and her colleague hurried out. Ford and two other men were rattling up the stairs.

  “Nothing down there, ma’am,” he said.

  “Shit.” Zoe slapped the stair rail.

  “There’s another door through here!” came a voice from the gym.

  “Wait.” Ford slid in ahead of Zoe and covered the room in a few strides. Zoe scuttled after him, her heart racing. She heard a crash behind her and turned to see Sheila entering.

  “You OK?” she asked.

  “I was downstairs. Storage rooms, no sign of Hamm. Or a hostage.”

  Zoe pursed her lips. “Through here,” came a voice from the door they’d checked earlier. She followed it to find three officers in a small room, facing a locked door. Banging came from the other side.

  “Wait,” Zoe said. She approached the door and crouched down.

  “Anita?”

  A muffled cry came from inside.

  “She’s right behind that door,” Ford said.

  Zoe took a deep breath. “Anita, get away from the door. We’re coming in.”

  More muffled sounds.

  Zoe gave Ford a nod. “Be careful.”

  He gestured to his team. The male officer at the front tugged on the door. “Not budging.”

  “Get the hinges.”

  “They’re on the other side, Sarge.”

  “We need to bust the lock then.”

  “You can’t use the enforcer,” said Zoe. “She’s right behind the wood.”

  “Don’t worry.” Ford nodded to his colleague.

  The man leaned into the door, pulling a chisel out of a bag PC Janek had placed on the floor behind him. He used it to jimmy the door. Zoe watched, her heart thumping against her ribs.

  At last the door crashed outwards and a woman fell out. She was blonde, wearing a stained shirt and trousers along with a gag and blindfold.

  Zoe rushed forward to remove the gag. “Anita?”

  “Yes.” The woman’s voice was thin.

  “Anita Randle.” Zoe peeled off the blindfold and Anita blinked back at her.

  “You’re safe now,” Zoe said.

  “David?” Anita looked up and past Zoe.

  “He’s nearby.”

  “I’m here.”

  Randle pushed past Zoe and gathered his wife in his arms. She melted into them, her limbs loose.

  Ford and his team straightened. “Sir.”

  Randle waved an arm at them, not turning away from his wife. “Stand down, men. You did good.”

  Chapter Eighty-Eight

  When Mo arrived at the house, Force Response were already parked along the lane, tucked into a lay-by.

  “Wait here,” he said to Connie, and got out of the car. She shivered.

  “DS Uddin,” he said as he approached the two cars. “Deputising for DI Finch.”

  “We know.” One of the officers gave him a tight nod. “PS Gerry. We’ve taken a look. The house is quiet, one car in the drive.”

  “One?” Mo wanted to hit himself.

  “Just a BMW.”

  “Shit.” Mo thrust a fist into his mouth. “You didn’t see a Jaguar?” He gave them the registration.

  “Sorry.”

  “Wait a moment.” He ran back to the car.

  “Connie. Get onto command. If there’s a sighting of that Jag, I want to know instantly.”

  “It’s gone?”

  “Of course it’s gone. I can’t believe we’ve let him get away again.”

/>   “I’ll monitor, Sarge.”

  “Cheers.” Mo ran back to the uniformed officers.

  “We go in anyway. We’ve got authorisation for a search.”

  “We’ve been briefed,” replied PS Gerry.

  “You know what you’re looking for?”

  “I say we don’t delay.”

  “You’re right. Let’s go.”

  Moments later they were at the front of the house. PS Gerry hammered on the door. Four of his team hung back in the shadows of the front drive. He gestured to two of them and they disappeared around the side of the building.

  “Stand back, DS Uddin.”

  Mo hung back while they used the enforcer to break down the door.

  “Police! Show yourselves!” he called as he followed them in.

  Silence. He crossed through a generous hallway into a vast living space. Tall bifold doors filled the back wall and the biggest kitchen island he’d ever seen stood to one side.

  He pointed at a door beyond the island and one of the PCs went through.

  “Nothing here, Sarge.”

  Mo turned back to the hallway. He could hear boots upstairs, Gerry’s officers searching the bedrooms.

  “Clear!” came a voice. PS Gerry leaned over the banisters, looking down at Mo. “Sorry, mate.”

  Mo leaned against the wall. There was still one car, which meant Hamm had taken the housekeeper with him. If he’d been here at all.

  Connie ran through the front door. “Sarge!”

  “They’ve found the car?”

  “Picked up on the M42, only three miles away.”

  “And?”

  “There was a woman driving it. No passengers.”

  Mo’s senses prickled. “So where’s Hamm?”

  “Dunno.”

  He stepped forward, suddenly alert. “Be careful, Connie. If he’s here…”

  “In here!” came a voice from the back of the house. Mo ran into the open plan kitchen.

  It was empty.

  “Hello?” he called. Connie ran in behind him.

  “PC Nunn!” PS Gerry shouted as he entered behind them. “Where are you?”

  A woman’s head appeared behind the kitchen island. “There’s a trapdoor.”

  Mo and Connie exchanged wide-eyed stares. Mo stepped forward but was stopped by PS Gerry’s hand on his arm.

  “He could be armed.”

  Mo nodded, his stomach clenching, and stepped back. He grabbed Connie’s arm. She was breathing heavily, clutching her collar.

  “Up!” barked PS Gerry. Mo heard movement behind the island. He ached to go round there.

  Gerry looked round. “He’s clean. No weapons.”

  Mo pushed past him, almost stumbling in his haste. Sitting at the bottom of a steep stairway, surrounded by row upon row of wine bottles, was Trevor Hamm.

  Mo swallowed. “Trevor Hamm, you’re under arrest.”

  Chapter Eighty-Nine

  Zoe ran out of the building, Sheila following her.

  “DI Finch!”

  “One moment!” She threw a hand out behind to stop Sheila. On the road, Anita Randle was being wheeled into an ambulance. Her husband stepped up with her, his hand clasped around hers.

  “Sir.” Zoe stopped at the back doors to the ambulance. “We need to talk.”

  He squeezed his wife’s hand. “Not now.” Her face flickered.

  “You can’t expect me not to take action.”

  “I don’t, Zoe. It’s gone past that now.”

  “What’s going on?” Anita croaked.

  “Nothing, love.” He lifted her hand and kissed the back of it. She smiled weakly.

  How much did Anita Randle know?

  “Sir, I have to make a statement about this to PSD.”

  “And so do I.”

  Her breath caught in her throat. “You’re going to tell them?”

  He looked up at the ceiling of the ambulance, then back at her. A paramedic brushed past Zoe.

  “We need to get going.”

  “What are you going to do?” she called to Randle.

  “Tell your boyfriend to expect a call.”

  The paramedic leaned out and pulled the doors shut.

  Chapter Ninety

  Zoe watched the ambulance drive away. Sheila stood next to her.

  “You knew where Hamm would be,” the DS said. “How?”

  Zoe turned to her. “We got CCTV. That Jag.”

  Sheila shook her head. “You knew something else. What did the Super tell you?” She looked after the ambulance. “Ma’am. I need you to inform me if anything untoward has happened here tonight.”

  Zoe was tired. Sheila hadn’t called her ma’am for a very long time. Was this how things were going to be from now on?

  “Detective Superintendent Randle has been working with Trevor Hamm for some time. PSD know about it, but haven’t been able to gather conclusive evidence.” As far as I’m aware.

  “That photo…”

  Zoe nodded. “Hamm must have set Randle up with Alina Popescu.”

  “You think he was connected to the bomb?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t seen evidence pointing in that direction. But he knew about it. I think…”

  “What?”

  Zoe had been about to voice her suspicions about the evidence that had been planted on Nadeem Sharif. Was Ian guilty? Had Randle ordered him to do it? And did Ian even know what he’d been doing?

  Ian wasn’t in Randle’s league. But he was bent. He’d taken bribes when he’d been at Kings Norton, and he’d worked for Randle when he should have been spying on him for Carl.

  “I need to talk to Professional Standards,” she told Sheila. “I can’t say any more right now.”

  Sheila pursed her lips. “I really hope you’re not mixed up in this.”

  The accusation was like a jolt to Zoe’s heart. Would Carl think the same way?

  PS Ford approached them, pulling off his helmet. “Two men on their way to the station for questioning. What d’you want us to do with the woman?”

  Sheena McDonald. Zoe couldn’t be sure how closely she’d been caught up with Hamm’s latest exploits. But she would know something.

  “Caution her. We’ll talk to her in the morning.”

  “Ma’am.” He walked away.

  “Zoe,” Sheila said. “I really hope you’re not getting yourself into trouble.”

  “I’ll be fine,” Zoe said. Her phone buzzed: a text from Mo.

  We got Hamm.

  Her mouth fell open. She grabbed Sheila by the shoulders. “Hamm. Mo’s arrested him!”

  “Thank all that’s holy for that. Where?”

  “I don’t know. But we got him, Sheila. We have CCTV of him when they dumped Dwayne Jukes’s body, and I know my team is building a case now. By the time Connie’s done, it’ll be like a brick wall.”

  “Well done, Zoe,” Sheila said. She looked hesitant. “You deserve credit for that, at least.”

  Chapter Ninety-One

  Anita lay propped against the pillows, occasionally placing a finger on her various injuries. Her ankle was sprained, her ribs were bruised and they’d put stitches in her forehead.

  David knocked gently on the bedroom door. “How are you feeling?”

  She grimaced. “Aching all over.”

  “You rest up for as long as you need. You’ve been through an ordeal.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “Who was that woman, David?”

  He eased himself onto the bed, not meeting her eye. “It’s not what you think.”

  “I think you’ve been having an affair. At least, that’s what I thought until I read about your testimony in the trial of that sergeant.”

  He leaned towards her. She shook her head and he pulled back.

  “Tell me, David. How did you know her? Did you have anything to do with” – her voice was hoarse – “the bomb attacks?”

  “I had no involvement in the attacks.”

  “Did you know about them?”
>
  “I was Gold Command at the airport. I was one of the first to be told.”

  Pain gripped at her ribs. She wasn’t ready for this. But it couldn’t wait.

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “No.” He looked down at her feet beneath the duvet. The girls were both asleep, she’d made him call a neighbour from the ambulance so they would have someone watching them until she got home.

  He’d left the girls alone in the middle of the night. Yes, he’d done it to find her. But he’d just walked out of the house and left them alone, knowing that someone had broken in just hours earlier.

  What kind of man did that?

  What kind of father?

  “Tell me, David. Did that woman tell you what she was going to do?”

  He looked up at her and shook his head. “She didn’t know herself.”

  “Sorry?”

  “She was forced to do it. Her family were threatened, in Romania. She didn’t know it was going to happen until days before.”

  Anita put a hand to her throat. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like to walk into a building with an explosive device strapped to your body. To have the – the what? It wasn’t courage – to detonate it.

  “She wasn’t in control of the device, Anita. Alina was an innocent pawn.”

  “She killed people. That hostage negotiator…”

  He nodded. “It wasn’t her fault. It was the men who controlled her. Trevor Hamm.”

  “I keep hearing his name.” She gasped in a shaky breath. She wanted to sleep. “Who is he?”

  “He’s a bad man.”

  “Don’t talk to me like I’m five years old.”

  “He’s a man I was stupid enough to get myself involved with. Bryn Jackson was mixed up with him when he was just into drug dealing and money laundering. They were different times. I found myself dragged into it.”

  “Don’t make excuses. Bryn Jackson was the Assistant Chief Constable.” She hesitated. “Is that why he died?”

  David nodded. “Not entirely.”

  “But the verdict… it was his daughter, wasn’t it?”

  “She found out about what he was doing. She couldn’t forgive him.”

  A lump formed in Anita’s throat. “I understand how she felt.”