by Clare Revell
Parched turf covered the verges; the once green lawn now brown and faded. The thing about grass was it was indestructible and had the innate ability to recover as soon as the rains did come.
Lightning flashed to her right. Isabel stood still and began counting slowly. One one thousand. Two one thousand. Three one thousand. Four one thousand. Five one thousand. Six one thousand. Seven one thou… Thunder resounded, loud, crackling. The hairs on her arms and the back of her neck stood up. Seven. About a mile and a half away.
Rain began to fall. Sweet, blessed rain they needed so much. Huge drops began to pound the pavement, soaking into her shirt. She didn’t move, not caring if she got wet. Maybe the rain would clear her mind as well as some of the heat and humidity from the air around her. Lightning flashed again. Thunder followed, nearer this time.
The rain fell harder and Isabel ran for the cover of the building—more afraid of the storm itself than getting wet. Rain never bothered her. Thunder and lightning were different. She made her way up to the squad room and DI Holmes’ office. He was in early just as he’d promised.
He raised an eyebrow. “You look like a drowned rat. Maybe I should have picked you up on my way in after all.”
“It’s fine. I don’t mind the rain.” She ran a hand over her wet hair. “Least it won’t take long to dry.”
He jerked his head in response. “Let’s get this new photo ID done. As soon as the bank opens at nine, we’ll go there. Have you tried checking your balance online?”
“I don’t do Internet banking. Never really fancied the idea.”
“Neither does my wife. She won’t even use a card other than for the ATM. She insists on paying cash for everything.” He headed into the corridor as he spoke.
Isabel scurried to keep pace with his long strides. “I prefer cash, but the hairdresser was a last-minute thing. Zander said I wasn’t safe, and if I’m honest, all those dead girls did have the same hair as me. Which was more than a little creepy, if you think about it.”
DI Holmes glanced at her. “Not anymore.”
She chuckled. “I did have forty fits when I looked in the mirror this morning. I wondered who I was for a moment. Is your wife home yet?”
He shook his head. “No. She and the kids are staying with my parents until school starts.” He tugged open the office door. “After you. Hey, Bob, can you redo DC York’s ID for me?”
Bob grinned. “Wow, that’s a big change, DC York.”
“I got bored and decided to test the theory that blondes have more fun.” She posed for the photograph.
Bob took the picture. “Let me know if it works. If it does, I’ll trade this grey in for blond.”
Isabel’s phone chimed and she glanced at the screen. “Text from an unknown number.” Her finger hovered over the delete button.
“Read it,” DI Holmes said.
Reluctantly, she opened the text and read aloud.
Borrowed a phone off a friend so don’t return the text. Dad popped into visit last night. he's coming to see you and uncle gee today. I owe you an apology for being a prat. Love E. Kiss. Kiss.
Bob chuckled. “Someone loves you.”
“Ernie always loves me and always sends at least two kisses.” She put the phone away. Uncle Gee was the Guv, but who could Dad be? Not Zander’s father as he would ring her rather than come to the station and visit…could he mean the Chief Super?
“How much longer on the ID?” DI Holmes asked.
“It’s ready now.” Bob handed it over.
“Thank you.” Isabel removed the old one and clipped the new one onto the lanyard. The second copy she slid into her warrant card, making sure she handed the old one over to be destroyed.
Bob cut them up.
DI Holmes headed out of the room and she followed him. He was barely in the corridor when he glanced at her. “Well?”
“Outside,” she said. “I’d rather not say where there is any danger of us being overheard by anyone.”
He frowned. “OK.”
Thunder echoed as they exited the building. Rain poured down.
They ran to the overhang where the smokers gathered. It was deserted due to the early hour and the inclement weather.
“The text was from Zander.”
“I thought so. What did his coded message say?”
“Uncle Gee is you—Gee as in Guv. Dad I assume is Chief Superintendent Clydesdale. And I don’t think of him as Dad. He asked me to call him that, but it doesn’t seem right, somehow. So we settled for sir or Ashton depending on whether I’m on duty or not. Of course, that doesn’t seem right either. But why he went to visit Zander is beyond me.”
“I have no idea either.”
Lightning and simultaneous thunder resounded.
Isabel jumped.
“We should get inside. Storm is too close for comfort now.” DI Holmes ran for the cover of the building.
She followed him.
They arrived back in the squad room as the others finally turned up for the day’s shift.
DS Philips grinned. “Isabel. I love the hair.”
“Thanks, Sarge.”
Austin smirked. “Did you get the number of the lawnmower that hit you?”
“Never mind him.” Will laughed. “I want the email of the decorator, because I want the bathroom that colour.”
Isabel shook her head. “You lot are so rude.” She sat at the desk and picked up the phone, dialling quickly. “Bedivere Ward, please.”
Two clicks later a clipped voice came on the line. “Bedivere. Sister James speaking.”
“Hi, it’s Isabel York, Zander Ellery’s partner. I was wondering how he is this morning.”
“He didn’t have a very good night, so he’ll be with us for another day or two.”
“Could you give him my love, and tell him I’ll pop by when I finish work?”
“Of course.”
“Thank you.” Isabel ended the call and looked over the desk at DS Painter. “You want to tease me about my hair?”
He shook his head. “Nope. The style suits you. The colour will take getting used to, but at least it isn’t fluorescent pink.” He winked.
She smiled. “Thanks.”
He nodded to her overflowing in-tray. “You need to do that today.”
“The Guv needs me straight after the briefing, but after that I’ll do it.” She tilted her head, studying it. “It’s probably all junk mail. This lot find it amusing to give me leaflets for stair lifts and mobility scooters and pizzas.” Her phone beeped. She lifted it and read the text, frowning. “I’d forgotten all about that.” Her stomach pitted. How could she have forgotten her driving test?
“What?”
“I have a driving lesson at ten and then the…then something else straight after. Bother.” She buried her head in her hands. She was in no state for this. Not with everything else that was going on. And there was no way she could pay for it all now. Tears threatened and she swallowed hard.
A chair scraped along the floor and a hand rested on her shoulder. “Isabel, talk to me. Is the teasing really bothering you that much?”
She shook her head, raising her face enough to realise that DS Painter was right beside her now. “Thing is, when I put in for this I was on indefinite leave. DS King said to go for it and they had a cancellation. So I did and it’s eleven o’clock this morning.”
“What is?”
“My driving test.” She wrapped her arms around her stomach as it churned.
“You’ll be fine. If anyone asks where you are, you’re working on a case for me between ten and one-thirty. That way you have lunch to recover.” He winked. “In fact, meet me at the Three Sixteen at half twelve and I’ll buy you lunch.”
“Thank you.” She managed a faint smile. “We can commiserate together.”
“Or celebrate. Just make sure the Guv knows where you really are.” He shuffled his chair back to the other side of the desk.
“I just feel bad,” she said. “So much going
on and I’m off out.”
“Don’t,” DS Painter said. “It’s fine. Something you need to do, as I’m sure you’ve been told a dozen times already.”
The door opened. Chief Superintendent Clydesdale strode in as if he owned the place. “Morning.”
Everyone leapt to their feet. “Morning, Sir,” they chorused.
“Is the DI in yet?”
“In his office, sir,” Austin said.
“Goodo. We’ll be a while.” The Chief Super marched to the office and opened the door without knocking. “Nate, I need a word.” The door shut firmly.
DS Painter grabbed a file. “Just running this down to vice. Meant to do it last night.”
“OK.” Isabel sighed as she sat. “Great.” Now what did she do?
DS Philips moved over to her side. “What’s up?”
“Nothing.”
“Looks more like something to me.” He sat beside her. He was as good as the Guv was at spotting a problem and not easing up until that problem had been shared and dealt with.
“It’s awkward. The Guv was meant to be helping me sort something out and now he can’t.” She bit her lip. “My card got declined yesterday in the hairdresser and then the ATM swallowed the wretched thing. There should be plenty of money in my account as I’m not overdrawn. The Guv was taking me to the bank at nine to sort it. I owe him for my hair last night, and I have a double driving lesson to pay for today.”
“I’ll take you to the bank now. What time is your lesson?”
“Ten.” She reached for her bag. “Thank you.”
“We’ll be back in plenty of time. It’s probably just the bank being stupid.”
“I hope so.”
~*~
Zander hissed in pain as they wheeled the gurney down the ambulance ramp to the prison car park. His doctor had argued against the transfer but had been overruled by the judicial system. The only plus was he’d be in the prison infirmary for now.
The guard, dressed in white scrubs, looked up from the clipboard in his hand. “Prisoner’s name?”
“Zander Ellery. Broken ribs, recovering from surgery yesterday. The hospital doctor kicked up a stink and didn’t want him released.”
Zander frowned at the medic. “Are you new here? I don’t recognise you.”
The medic smirked at him. “No sunshine. You’re the new kid here.” He signed the paperwork. “OK. Transfer him to the trolley, and we’ll take it from here.”
“Where am I?” Fear spurted through him. “I thought I was going back to the prison in Headley Cross.” He groaned as they moved him none to gently and fastened his wrists and ankles with leather straps to the bed.
The medic peered at him. “No, mate. You’re in Broadmoor now.”
Zander tried to sit up, fear turning to panic. That was the prison for the criminally insane. “What? I’m not crazy.” He looked at the guard who’d come with him. “Please, you have to take me back.”
“I just take people where I’m told.”
The medic tightened the straps. “Your things were transferred last night. Now lie still or be sedated. Your choice.”
“My choice is not to be here.” Zander tried to get free, even though he knew there wasn’t a chance. “Please, you need to call my partner and tell her I’m here. The hospital has her number.” He looked in desperation at the medic. “Her name is Isabel York.” A needle jabbed his arm and cold liquid flooded his vein making his head swim. “You can’t do this. You have no right.”
The trolley began to move. Lights flashed and voices echoed as he fought whatever it was they’d given him. “I’m not crazy. Shouldn’t…be…here…”
“Stop fighting the meds. You’ll find it much easier that way.”
“Have to tell Is,” he managed.
“She your girlfriend?”
“My partner, yeah.” What was it they’d given him? Zander felt as if he were floating several feet above the trolley. If that was even his name. He was so high he was no longer sure.
“Visits are on Friday. She can come then.”
The trolley jerked to a stop. The figures around him weaved and darted as they tugged him across a huge gap to a bed. More restraints, which seemed to take an eternity to do up and meant he couldn’t move at all.
A new face loomed above him. “Zander, I’m Dr. Jones.” The words were long and drawn out. “I’ll give you something to help you sleep. We’ll talk when you wake up.”
Rather than cold fluid, this one was hot. Which was weird. His legs went numb. The lack of sensation spread up his body, spacing him out even more. Breathing was impossible. Was he drowning? Blackness sped towards him like a truck and he stopped fighting.
Not crazy…Is…
~*~
Isabel shook as she left the bank, not wanting to believe what she’d been told. Both her accounts emptied and closed. And not by her. That left her penniless, feeling violated, and totally up the creek without a paddle. Anger, grief, and hatred boiled within her.
DS Philips had been amazing, she had to admit. While she’d just freaked out, he’d organised a new account and contacted the fraud squad. He was still inside on the phone now, but Isabel needed air. She needed to scream, cry, and rail at the world. Not to mention throw up. She just wasn’t sure which one to do first. She honestly had no idea how she’d get through today, never mind the rest of the month. No money for bus fare, food, she couldn’t pay for her driving lesson, or pay the Guv back. She glanced at her watch. Ten minutes.
Wait. Ten minutes? She’d never get back to the nick in time. She should cancel the test. There was no way she could pay for one lesson, never mind two. She was in no frame of mind to concentrate on driving. She’d have to pay another £67 for the test when she rebooked it, if she even bothered, but right now she didn’t really care.
DS Philips came out of the bank. “Ready to get back for your lesson? We should make it in time.”
She shook her head. “No. I can’t afford it now. I already owe the Guv for stuff from yesterday and I can’t repay him. I’m officially broke until pay day as whoever did this got to all my accounts.” Isabel heaved a sigh, stomach roiling at the thought of someone impersonating her well enough to do that.
“Any idea who’d want to do something like this?”
“Someone who hates me most likely.” Isabel hugged her middle tightly. “Maybe I’ll just walk back and see you there.”
DS Philips rested a hand on her shoulder. “Deep breath. There’s no need to stress so much over the little things. The bank is sending the CCTV footage across. We’ll find them. Hop in the car and we’ll head back.”
“Least I can sort my in-tray now. It’s full-to-overflowing.” She trudged after him trying to find her phone in her handbag.
“The blokes do love filling it for you. You said it was a double lesson?” He opened the car door.
She bit her lip. “Yeah. As I said, I need to cancel. It’s a double one because I have the test right afterwards. But I’m in no frame of mind for that now.”
DS Philips opened the car door for her. “In you get.”
Isabel reluctantly did as he asked and folded her arms back around her stomach. She pushed back into the seat, reaching for her seatbelt, as the sergeant got in beside her.
“Open the glove box and pull out my New Testament, please.”
Surprised, she leaned forwards and took the Bible from its hiding place. “It’s a Gideon one. I got one in school.”
“So did I,” DS Philips said. “And that’s it. We still give them out today.”
Isabel looked at him. “You’re a Gideon?”
The people who placed the Bibles in hotels and other places were from all walks of life and denominations, with a passionate belief in spreading the Word. And now, she knew one. Her respect grew for the man beside her.
He nodded. “But no one knows that. Other than my wife, and now you.” He flicked through the pages. “2 Corinthians 4:8-9 says ‘We are hard pressed on every side, but
not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed.’ And Ephesians 4:32 says ‘Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you’. Let’s pray.”
Peace flooded Isabel as he spoke. When he finished she looked at him. “Thank you.”
“OK, let’s get you back for your test.”
Isabel sighed. “I didn’t get the chance to tell the Guv, but DS Painter knows. He said he’d cover for me, so the lads don’t tease me when I fail.”
DS Phillips paused at the traffic lights. “That’s fine. Just make sure you clear your in-tray.”
Isabel rolled her eyes out the window. “It’s on my to-do list. But if everyone would just leave off the junk mail it’d help.”
“I’ll have a word.”
“I still think I should call and cancel as my nerves are shot to pieces. I’ll apologise for the short notice.”
DS Phillips shook his head. “No, you won’t. We’ll sort something.”
Isabel sat quietly as he drove back to the nick. Her stomach churned, almost as much as before, but she didn’t see how that was possible. It sank even further as they arrived back at the police station, where DI Holmes and her driving instructor, DS King, were waiting in the car park.
“I have to cancel.” She held out shaking hands. “I can’t drive like this. Plus which, I can’t pay you.”
“DI Holmes explained.” DS King shook his head. “No, you don’t need to cancel. I am more than happy to defer payment on this. Besides, the test is already paid for.”
“Are you sure?”
He nodded. “Yes. I’ll wait in the car as your boss wants a word.”
“Guv, I…” she couldn’t even meet his gaze as she climbed out of the car and went to her boss.
“Dane rang me and explained,” DI Holmes said. “I am arranging a bank transfer to your new account to tide you over until payday.”
“You can’t—”
He held up a hand. “Before you say anything, it’s a gift from the church fellowship fund, which is what it’s designed for. Do you have the new details?”