Soul to Take

by Clare Revell

  “It seems this kid believes he’s innocent and Zander told him I could help. I’d like you to review the case—look over the CCTV footage, evidence, and so on. Get back to me before the day is over.”

  “Yes, sir.” She’d rather be working on clearing Zander’s name, but at least she still had a job in this squad and wasn’t being sent back to uniform or traffic or reassigned to the back of beyond. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the paper. “I saw Zander yesterday. He asked me to give you this.”

  DI Holmes took the paper. “Did you read it?”

  She balked. “No way. It’s not addressed to me.”

  “There isn’t meant to be any physical contact with prisoners. So precisely how did he do that?”

  She looked at her hands. “He’s in pretty bad shape, to be honest. His cellmate beat him up pretty badly. He collapsed. I reached him first, he grabbed my hand and passed it that way. Bit like passing notes in class I suppose.”

  “He’s injured?”

  “He said something about a code of conduct, dirty cops, and the guards turning a blind eye.” She folded her arms. “All the more reason to clear his name and get him out of there.”

  “The evidence—”

  “Is wrong!” She interrupted forcefully then caught herself as DI Holmes glowered across the desk. “There are loads of battered, red sedans like his car out there. It’s easy to remove or change the number plates. Zander reported his car stolen before we found it burnt out.”

  “He was missing at the time of some of the murders. You told me that yourself. His fingerprints are all over the evidence, which was destroyed in a fire. Again, he was missing when that was started.”

  “So are my prints,” she retorted. “I’m telling you, Guv, it’s not him. Some of the DNA we still haven’t been able to trace. And more than one bloke has the same blood type.”

  Her boss studied her over his cup. “I will excuse your rudeness just this once. You’re his partner, I understand that, but sometimes things are not as straightforward as they seem.” He pushed a thick file over to her. “Work on this today.”

  “Where have the Slayer boards gone?” She didn’t take the file.

  “The briefing room, for now. They’ll be taken down in a few days.”

  “I’d rather work on that,” she said.

  He tapped the folder. “I could have simply transferred you out of here, but you’re a good detective. This is your case today. Don’t give me cause to regret my decision.”

  “Sir.” She picked up the folder. “I take it the CCTV footage is on the system.”

  He nodded and opened the letter from Zander.

  Isabel turned and headed to the door. She wasn’t even halfway to her desk when the DI’s voice rang out across the squad room.

  “Dane, David, my office. Now.”

  Isabel dropped the file and sank heavily into the chair. She rubbed her hands over her face.

  “Welcome back.” Austin sounded way too chirpy for this early in the morning.

  She glanced up in time to see him wink. “Thanks,” she replied. “The welcome back cakes are in the bag by my feet if that’s what you’re after.”

  “How did you guess?”

  She lifted the bag, holding it at arm’s length. “Because I helped you write the Cake Act. So what’s new around here?”

  Austin took the bag and pulled out the box of cakes. “Will’s back, so he and I are partnering each other again. Jason is partnering Tony. Steve and Harry are on temporary attachment to vice, staking something or other out. Right now the two Sarges are working the remaining Slayer investigation, but that’s wrapping up. They just want to dot the I’s and cross the T’s before it gets to court. And your in-tray is full to overflowing.”

  “No surprises there.” She sighed. Her gaze caught the zebra on her desk. She needed to check the footage from the camera she’d hidden inside him. “Are the cameras the Guv installed still in here?”

  Austin nodded; his mouth full of cake. “Yes, he said something about keeping them. I’m guessing he wants to keep tabs on us and make sure we’re working and not slacking off.”

  “He says whilst eating cake.”

  Isabel jumped as a huge crash came from outside the building. “What was that”?

  “They’re demolishing what’s left of the burned-out wing before it falls. Then they’ll rebuild it, better than it was before.”

  “Let me guess, better, stronger, and faster.” She hummed the beginning few bars of the theme tune. “Do they know what happened?”

  “Arson. CCTV caught someone going in with a bag, came out a few minutes later without a bag. Five minutes after that, boom!”

  “It’s the evidence lock-up. People going in with bags and leaving without them happens all the time. That’s not proof of jack.”

  “This bloke was the same height and build, the same hat or hood that the Slayer had. Zander was missing at the same time.”

  “And Frank had just stormed out of here and quit. Frank is also the same height and build as Zander. So is George Harmon.” She sighed. “So where do we stand on all those arrests we made on that last day or so?”

  Austin licked his fingers. “Fred Darley pled guilty to child abuse. He’s locked up indefinitely and on the register for life. Barney Terrance also pled guilty to the murder of Susan Higgins and got eight years. George Harmon is on remand pending sentencing next week. Rev. Eke is still out there as there wasn’t enough evidence to charge him with anything.”

  “Thanks.” She drummed her fingers on the desk.

  He nodded to her file. “What’s that?”

  “Something the Guv wants me to look into. Some kid is protesting his innocence. Reckons he’s being fitted up.”

  Austin laughed. “That’s what they all say.”

  “I guess so.”

  The Guv’s door opened, and Austin scurried back to his desk, taking the cakes with him.

  Isabel opened the file, propped her head on her hand and began to read.

  DS Painter sat at his desk. “Are you OK?”

  She glanced up. “Yes, Sarge. Why shouldn’t I be?”

  “Just wondering.”

  DS Philips frowned. “We saw Zander yesterday. He said you weren’t well, and we should check on you.”

  “I’m fine. He’s the one we need to worry about. Did you see how he’d been beaten up?”

  “He’ll be fine,” DS Philips said. He headed to his desk.

  Isabel shook her head. “If you say so,” she muttered. Reaching for the mouse, she woke her computer screen and pulled up the CCTV footage. The sooner she sorted this, the sooner she might be allowed to do some proper work. She had to prove Zander’s innocence and get him out of jail before some thug killed him.

  ~*~

  Zander lay on the floor, curled tight, biting his tongue to avoid crying out, as three men surrounded him, kicking hard. He groaned as a foot connected hard with his ribs. Something cracked. Breathing, already hard, became agonisingly difficult.

  “Leave him alone. Guard!” A voice cried out.

  An alarm bell rang, feet scattered.

  Billy’s face swam into view. “Zander, you’ll be all right. Don’t move.”

  Zander floated on a mixture of pain, darkness, and voices which came and went. There was a siren and blue light which made no sense. He squinted and tried to turn his head away from a bright, white light.

  “Zander, I’m Dr. Sutton. I’m the consultant in charge today.” This voice was female, clipped, and professional. “You’re in Headley General ED. Can you tell me where it hurts?”

  “Where doesn’t it?” he gasped. “Can’t…breathe.”

  “I need a chest X-ray, stat.” Dr. Sutton put a mask over Zander’s face. “This will help.”

  “Sats are falling,” another voice said. “BP is also falling.”

  Zander lay still as they cut off his clothing. He heard the staff comment on his bruises and groaned as they examined him.

 
; “I want these handcuffs off him now.”

  “He’s a prisoner, Doc.”

  “I don’t care if he’s Jack the Ripper.” Dr. Sutton sounded frustrated and annoyed. “My patient has at least one fractured rib, a potential pneumothorax, he’s bleeding internally, and if we don’t act fast, he’s going to die. He can’t go in the CT machine with the cuffs on. He’s going nowhere unaided. Now uncuff him and stand out of my way!”

  Zander turned his head, dislodging the mask. “They…don’t…like…dirty…cops.”

  Dr. Sutton straightened the mask. “I have no such qualms. Lie still and promise me you won’t run if he takes off the handcuffs.”

  Zander gazed into clear blue eyes and nodded slowly. “Promise.” Right now he didn’t think he could stand up and hobble out of here, never mind anything more energetic.

  The guard un-cuffed him reluctantly and stepped away. He made the ‘I’m watching you’ hand signal.

  Zander rolled his eyes.

  Dr. Sutton glanced around her team. “OK, everyone clear for this X-ray. And then get the pictures up on that screen.”

  Zander watched the screen. Even a layman could see the shadow on his lung and the broken ribs.

  Dr. Sutton frowned. “I need a chest and abdo CT, but I need a chest drain in first. OK, Zander, this might hurt a bit, but it’ll help you breathe.” She looked at the guard. “Have you called his next of kin?”

  The guard shook his head. “No. His partner gave me her number yesterday.”

  Zander gasped as the pretty, blonde-haired doctor worked on him. “Partner?”

  “That cute girlfriend of yours who visited you yesterday,” the guard grunted. “She gave me her number and said she was your next of kin.”

  He closed his eyes. Clever move on Isabel’s part making out partner meant girlfriend not work. No wait…he already knew that, didn’t he? Everything was muddled. “Isabel…”

  “Go and call her now, but from outside the unit,” Dr. Sutton instructed. “The only place Zander is going is CT and he’ll be escorted the whole time.”

  The guard walked off muttering.

  “OK, let’s get Zander up to CT and tell theatre we’re coming up once we know what we’re dealing with here.” The doctor’s hand touched his shoulder. “Breathing a little easier now?”

  Zander nodded. “Yes, doc.” The trolley beneath him jerked and began to move. He groaned, the slight movement causing ripples of agony to swarm and multiply inside him.

  ~*~

  Isabel put the phone down. She pulled her bag from the desk drawer and rose, going over to the DI’s office.

  “I need to get to the hospital, Guv. Zander’s been rushed in via an ambulance.”

  DI Holmes glanced up. “Why did they call you?”

  “I told the prison yesterday that I was his partner. They assumed I meant next of kin type partner.”

  “I’ll drive you.” He stood and reached for his jacket. “How are you getting on with that file?”

  “Done. The kid’s innocent. The cops who did the original case assumed it was his third strike and sent the case to the CPS who assumed the same thing. I’ve put in a call to Niamh Harkin. She’ll look at my review and make a decision before the end of the day. I know you said you wanted it, but the CCTV was clear cut and you were busy.”

  “Really?”

  She looked at him. “The CCTV showed kid A was nowhere near kid B when kid B hit the old lady and stole her bag. Kid A actually ran to help the old lady whilst kid B scarpered with said bag. Kid A gets nicked for being a Good Samaritan. It’s all in my report on my desk.”

  “Nice work.”

  “Thanks.” She shouldered her bag again. “Can we go?”

  “Sure. Dane, Isabel and I are off out. You’re in charge until I get back.” DI Holmes walked with her from the office. “Did they say what’s up?”

  “He got attacked again. The fact they called an ambulance doesn’t sound good.”

  Once they reached the hospital, Isabel headed straight for the ED reception. “Hi, I had a phone call to say my boyfriend’s been admitted and could I come now. His name’s Zander Ellery. I’m Isabel York.”

  “Take a seat, and I’ll let them know you’re here.”

  “Thanks.” Isabel turned. She hadn’t even sat down before her name was called. She headed over to the nurse, aware that DI Holmes was beside her.

  “Zander’s this way. You can have a minute or two with him.”

  “How is he?” Isabel asked, not hiding her concern.

  “He’s not in great shape. He has a chest drain in, so there are a lot of wires and tubes right now.”

  “Chest drain?” Isabel had seen enough TV medical dramas to know that meant an incredibly serious injury—usually a collapsed lung.

  “The doctor will fill you in.” She hurried Isabel though to resus—a huge room with busy staff and machines. “Dr. Sutton, this is Isabel York, Zander’s girlfriend.”

  Isabel rushed to the bed and gripped Zander’s hand tightly, anxious to play the part to the full, yet not having to overact the concern at how awful he appeared. “Zander?”

  Fresh cuts and bruises covered his face and exposed torso. His left eye was swollen closed, and an oxygen mask covered his mouth. His good eye opened as she leaned over the bed. “Is…”

  “What happened?”

  “Fell…” His voice was no more than a whisper, croaky and pain filled.

  “Dr. Sutton, what’s wrong with him?” Isabel asked. “Why does he have a chest drain?”

  “He has several broken ribs. One punctured his lung causing it to collapse, and his chest cavity to fill with blood. He also has internal bleeding. We’re taking him up to surgery in a minute or so to attempt to stop it.”

  “And if you can’t?” Panic charged through her. She couldn’t lose him. Not like this. Not before she proved he was innocent.

  “He’ll be fine barring anything unforeseen happening.”

  DI Holmes spun around to the guard. “DI Holmes, Thames Valley CID. What happened?”

  Zander squeezed Isabel’s hand. “Is…”

  “Save your energy, baby,” she whispered. “I’ll be here when you wake.” She glanced up at the doctor. “Does he really need to be cuffed to the bed?”

  “I managed to get that off for a few minutes, but the guard there is adamant your boyfriend will do a runner.”

  Isabel shot the guard the filthiest look she could muster. “Really? In his condition? He can barely breathe.”

  “He killed ten women and a cat, miss,” the guard spat.

  “Nine actually. And that’s allegedly!” Isabel sighed. “Have you lot never heard of innocent until proven guilty? Seriously, he isn’t going anywhere.”

  “Theatre is ready for him,” the nurse said.

  Isabel lifted Zander’s fingers to her mouth and kissed them, to keep up the pretence. “I’ll see you later.”

  Zander gripped her hand and tugged her closer.

  “What is it?”

  “Change your hair,” he managed. “Not safe.”

  She held his gaze. “Why not?”

  “He…wants…you…”

  “We need to go.”

  Isabel moved back as the porter and nurse began to wheel the trolley from the room.

  Dr. Sutton smiled. “They’ll give you a call when he’s on the ward upstairs.”

  “Thank you.”

  DI Holmes moved to her side. “Miss York? Are you OK?”

  Isabel looked at him. Why was he calling her that? Then she remembered, she was meant to be Zander’s girlfriend, not work partner. “Ummm, no. I need some air.” She headed outside as fast as she could.

  DI Holmes followed her. He touched her arm gently, leaning her against the wall. Maybe she did look as pale as she felt. Concern filled his gaze. “Isabel? What is it?”

  “He said I’m not safe, and I need to change my hair colour. He says someone wants me. I think he means the Slayer.”

  “Isabel,
Zander is the Slayer.”

  She shook her head. “No. He’s still out there and he isn’t finished. No one’s safe.”

  3

  Isabel sat at her desk, landline phone in hand, rifling through the top drawer as she waited for the call to connect. This was a long shot and she honestly wasn’t expecting a positive outcome. Her mobile sat face up on the desk for when the hospital called.

  The call connected. “Ahead of Hair, Kyle Stevens speaking.”

  “Hi, Kyle, it’s Isabel York. I need an appointment as soon as possible for an emergency cut and dye, please.”

  There was a brief pause. “I can fit you in at four this afternoon.”

  “That would be wonderful. Thank you. You’re a life saver.” Maybe literally, she added silently.

  “That depends on what state your hair is in and what it looks like afterwards.” Kyle chuckled. “It’ll be me doing it.”

  “That’s fine.” Her heart faltered. That would treble the cost as he had a string of awards to his name.

  “Then I’ll see you at four.”

  “Yes, bye.” Isabel hung up. She picked up her mobile and wandered into the briefing room. She slid her phone into her pocket and stuck her hands on her hips as she gazed at the boards. They were missing something. And it had to be something so in-your-face-obvious as well, otherwise they’d have found it by now.

  She ran her gaze down the list of the victims’ occupations. Cleaner/dinner lady, university student, nanny, waitress, company director, home help, admin assistant, carer, and teacher. Nine women, all linked by faith and a convention they should have attended at the end of July. So should she, but she’d cancelled at the last minute. She’d also cancelled her leave. She’d book a week off in October instead.

  “You shouldn’t be in here.” DI Holmes had, once again, done his stealth appearance.

  “We’re missing something.” Isabel pointed to the last name on the list. “I don’t see how Rosa fits. Aside from the fact she was burned, and the others weren’t.”

  “She lied in court,” DI Holmes told her. “She admitted it to Zander, who handed the case straight to me. The painting fit the crime exactly.”

  “Some of the others, like Lexi, for example, have pretty tenuous links to the commandments. She ran over a bird. That hardly counts as murder, even if it does fit the painting perfectly.”