“That’s not what we’re trying to do.”
“I’m not saying you are. But like I say, we don’t want anyone suggesting you are.” She cocked her head. “I’m sure you understand.”
He let out a long sigh. “OK.” He shuffled towards the door.
“Thanks.” Connie felt guilty. She knew what it was like having to do things you weren’t comfortable with. She’d had enough of that when DI Dawson had been in charge of their team.
Stop being such a softie, she told herself. He was just being nosey. Sticking his oar in. She shook herself out and approached the constable on the nearest table. He was packing a sample away, labelling it with the name of the student who’d provided it and stowing it in a box. Yala Cook, one of Adi’s team, was moving between the tables, keeping an eye on things. There was a low hum in the room, the combined sound of students chatting in the queue and police getting on with their job.
“How many now?” Connie asked the PC.
“Twenty-three at my table.”
“Fifty-two altogether,” said Yala.
The PC looked smug. His was one of three tables and he’d processed almost half the samples.
“Don’t rush it,” Yala said, looking down at him. “We need to do this properly.”
“I’m not rushing it, ma’am.”
“I’m a civilian,” Yala told him. “You don’t have to call me that.”
He stiffened. “Fair enough.” He beckoned the next student forward and handed him a sampling kit and a leaflet.
The door that Tom Fenton had left by opened and DCI Clarke entered. Connie stood straight, almost to attention. She blinked at the DCI, waiting for her to approach.
She went to the farthest table first, exchanging a few words with the constable there. The two of them laughed quietly.
Connie held her breath, watching the DCI as she worked the room. At last DCI Clarke was standing next to her.
“DC Williams,” she said. “Zoe got you working alone on this one?”
“I’ve got Yala and Uniform helping me.”
“Even so. Everything going OK?”
“Fine.”
“No one here from the university?”
“DI Finch told me not to—”
DCI Clarke put a hand on Connie’s shoulder. “That’s exactly right, Connie. Thanks.” She blinked and her face paled.
“Ma’am? Are you alright?” Connie’s stomach dipped. She’d heard rumours about the DCI’s health since the New Street bomb, but she hadn’t been this close to her without the boss in the room.
The DCI gave her a thin smile, but her face was pale. Sweat beaded her forehead. “I’m fine, Constable. Don’t you worry about me. Just keep on as you are. I’m going to have a word with the warden.”
“Ma’am.” Connie watched as the DCI left the room, accompanied by a besuited man she didn’t recognise. She wondered what DI Finch would make of this. Was the boss being checked up on?
“DC Williams.”
Connie turned. “Yeah?”
Yala was staring at her. “I need you to check something with the university. We don’t have any postgrads on this list.”
“Oh.” Connie wasn’t sure how many postgraduate students were living at Boulton Hall.
“Can you find out who we’re missing and make sure we’ve got a complete list, please?”
“No problem.” Connie hurried out of the room towards Tom’s office, hoping she didn’t bump into the DCI.
Chapter Fifty-Eight
“I want to check it’s all going OK with the sampling,” Zoe said. “Can you two go back to base, liaise with Adana over Jenson’s post-mortem?”
“Course,” said Mo.
“Ta.” Zoe climbed out of Mo’s car and walked back to her own. The gawpers had gone now, seemingly bored.
She drove to Boulton Hall and parked on the double yellows outside, tired of having to drive in circles to find a parking space. She wouldn’t be long.
Inside, a security guard she didn’t recognise was in the office. She held up her ID.
“Can you tell me where they’re doing the DNA sampling?” she said.
“Sure,” said the woman. She pointed past Zoe. “Room 105, down that corridor there.”
“Thanks.” Zoe turned in the direction she’d pointed.
A group of male students passed her as she walked. They were talking about the sampling. One of them poked inside his mouth, saying something unintelligible. They quietened as she passed, giving her wary looks.
As she rounded a corner, Lesley was coming the other way. Zoe stopped in her tracks.
“Ma’am. I didn’t know you’d be here.”
Lesley was with a man in a suit. She had a hand on his arm, and looked pale.
“Are you alright, ma’am?”
“Will people stop bloody asking me that? I’ve already had your DC on my case.”
“I’m sure she was only trying to help.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m sure she was.”
“Is there a problem?” Zoe asked. Why had the DCI come to check up on her team?
“I wanted to talk to the warden. Do a bit of community outreach, you know what it’s like.”
“Have you seen her?”
Lesley sighed. “The woman’s in the Geography department this morning, apparently. You’d think she’d be here looking after the students.”
“I don’t imagine it’s easy to get out of lecturing commitments.” Zoe was secretly relieved the warden wasn’t here to interfere.
Lesley grunted. “Seems like I had a wasted trip.” She closed her eyes for a moment and cleared her throat. Zoe resisted the urge to ask if she needed help.
“Is there anything you need from me?” she asked.
“Just tell Doctor Edwards I was here, when you see her. I guess I’ll give her a call sometime.”
“Of course.”
“And I haven’t told you about some changes to the Magpie investigation.”
“Oh?” Zoe’s pulse accelerated.
“You’re busy with this one, I want you to focus. I’m putting DI Dawson on the other case.”
“But ma’am, I’ve been—”
Lesley raised a hand. “Don’t argue, Zoe. Ask DS Uddin to sit in on the meetings, share what you’ve been doing.”
“I can do that.”
Lesley screwed up her face. “I’m sure you can, but you’re busy here. Talk to DS Uddin. Brief him, if you need to.”
Zoe pushed down her anger. This wasn’t like Lesley. But she had to show even-handedness between her DIs. “I’ll talk to Mo.”
Lesley patted Zoe on the arm. “You’re doing a good job. You’ll catch this one, I’m sure.”
“We may have two to catch now.”
“You think the Begg kid was murdered too?”
“Not so much of a kid, he was twenty-four.” Zoe looked up and down the corridor. She stepped closer to her boss. “Adi found a dog hair on him that was very similar to the ones on Laurence Thomms.”
“The kid was a junkie, Zoe.” Lesley sniffed and pulled a hankie out of her pocket. “It’s just a dog hair.” She blew her nose. “Let’s not jump to conclusions.”
“I’ll let you know when we have the forensics in detail.”
“Yes. You do that.” Lesley pinched Zoe’s arm. It hurt. “Right, I’m off.”
“Ma’am.” Zoe stepped to one side to let her boss and her companion pass. She wondered why they hadn’t been introduced.
She pulled her shoulders back and carried on walking. What room number was it again? She’d find it when she got there, surely.
Room 105. Zoe stood outside it. The door was glazed and she could see Connie inside, talking with Yala Cook from Adi’s team. Zoe observed her for a moment. Connie was doing a good job.
There was a crash from behind her. Zoe turned, but the corridor was empty.
“Need some help here!” a man called out. Zoe ran towards the voice.
She skidded round the corner. The suited man
was hunched over, looking around him with the air of someone who didn’t have the faintest idea what to do. In front of him, slumped on the floor, was Lesley.
Zoe ran to her. “Ma’am!”
Lesley’s eyes flickered. She’d landed clumsily and her face was grey.
“Call a bloody ambulance,” Zoe told the man. “Who are you, anyway?”
“I’m Kit.” He pulled out a phone.
I’m Kit. What was that supposed to tell her? And what kind of name was Kit, anyway?
“I’ll do it,” she snapped. She grabbed her phone and hit 999.
Chapter Fifty-Nine
“Some fucker blocked the double yellows.”
Shit. “I’ll move it,” Zoe said.
The paramedic gave her a look that would have melted steel. “Too late now. My partner’s parked up, she’ll be with me in a minute. You don’t want her knowing what you did.”
Zoe pulled out her ID. “I’m SIO on a murder investigation. I needed access to the building.”
“I don’t care if you’re the Queen of bloody Sheba. You parked a Mini on double yellows and you made it harder for me to do my job.”
Lesley was propped against a wall between Zoe and the paramedic. Her breathing was shallow and her skin damp. The paramedic was pulling equipment out of his bag and attaching it to Lesley: a heart rate monitor, an oxygen mask.
“She had a brain injury six weeks ago,” Zoe said.
The paramedic’s eyes widened. “A brain injury? What’s she doing here?”
“She’s my boss. DCI Lesley Clarke.”
“I know that.” He looked down at a monitor that beeped at him. He shook his head.
“What?” Zoe said. “What’s happened to her?”
“Her BP is low,” he said. “And her O2 levels aren’t great either. What kind of injury?”
Zoe put a hand to the back of her neck. “She was attending the attack at New Street. She was injured. Glass lodged in her neck, she was lucky it didn’t embed in her spine.”
“She bloody was.” The paramedic held Lesley’s hand. “She’s cold.” He turned towards the door. “We need to get her to the QE.”
“What can I do?” Zoe asked.
Another paramedic hurried in, lugging a heavy case.
The first paramedic turned to her. “We need to get her to A&E, right now.”
The woman nodded. “I’ll get the chair.”
Moments later Lesley was in a wheelchair being pushed towards the doors. She groaned at Zoe, her eyelids flickering. Zoe felt sick, watching her boss’s face. As they reached the doors she glanced out at her car, cursing herself. The ambulance was parked behind her.
“I’ll move it.”
The female paramedic looked up from Lesley. She gave Zoe a sharp stare.
“Leave it,” the male paramedic said.
His colleague bent over the DCI. “Lesley love, we’re nearly at the ambulance and then we’ll have you at the hospital in two ticks.”
They held the doors open for the wheelchair. A group of male students were crossing the reception area. They stopped and stared at the commotion.
Zoe waved them away. “Go to room 105,” she said. “Nothing for you here.”
They exchanged looks, then hurried away, their footsteps loud. Zoe’s heartbeat rushed in her ears.
Lesley was in the ambulance now. The man who’d been with her, Kit, stood to one side, looking helpless. He looked at Zoe as if she had all the answers.
The paramedics secured Lesley’s wheelchair, then slammed the doors and drove away. Zoe’s phone rang.
“DI Finch.” She watched as the ambulance turned out of the driveway towards the street.
“Zoe, it’s Carl.”
“It’s not a good time.”
“I wanted to let you know we’ve got a trial date for Ian Osman.”
The ambulance drew out of sight, blue lights faint above the tree line and siren blaring. Zoe wondered if she should follow behind, go to the QE. She’d need to call Lesley’s family.
“What?” she said into her phone.
“Ian’s trial. It’s next month.”
“Oh.”
“I imagine you’ll be called as a witness.”
“All the more reason for you not to be calling me, then,” she replied.
“Don’t be like that.”
The sirens dimmed until she couldn’t hear them anymore. “Lesley’s just been rushed to hospital. I’ll talk to you later.”
“What happened?”
“I don’t know. She collapsed.”
“Her injury from the bomb?”
“I don’t know, Carl.” Zoe put her hand to her forehead. She still needed to speak to Connie, to check on the sampling. And then there was Jenson’s murder to follow up on.
“She’s taken me off the case,” she said.
“What case?” Carl asked.
“The bomber. Look… I don’t… you don’t need to know about this. I’ll call you when things have quietened down a bit.”
“I hope the DCI is OK.”
“Yeah. Sorry I snapped at you, Carl.”
She heard him breathe out heavily. “It’s OK, Zoe. You’re under a lot of stress.”
“Yeah.” She hung up and dialled Rhodri.
“Rhod, I haven’t got long. The DCI’s been taken ill, she’s been rushed to hospital. Find out her husband’s number and make sure someone calls him, will you? She’s at the QE.”
“Err…” The man who’d been with Lesley, the one who’d introduced himself as Kit, was at Zoe’s side.
“What?” she asked him, irritated.
“I can take care of that. I work with her.”
Since when?
Zoe clutched the phone. “OK Rhod, ignore that.”
“Is the DCI going to be OK, boss?”
“I don’t know. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“No problem.”
Zoe turned to Kit. “Who are you, anyway?”
“Senior management wanted someone from the support team working with DCI Clarke, to provide…”
“Support?” Zoe suggested.
He shrugged. “Yes.” He looked in the direction the ambulance had gone. “Has this happened before?”
“Surely you know.”
“The New Street bombing, yes. But I thought she was OK.”
“So why were you brought in to babysit her, then? And where are you from?”
He held out his hand, which Zoe ignored. “Kit Singh. I’m normally based at Lloyd House, in Force CID Support.”
“You’re civilian.”
“Yes.”
“And you work for Detective Superintendent Randle.”
“Not directly.”
“But that’s your team.” Zoe clenched a fist. Was he here to babysit Lesley, or to spy on her?
“Well,” she said. “There’s nothing for you to do here now. You might as well toddle off back to Lloyd House.”
“I’m sure there’s something I can…”
She shook her head emphatically. “Nothing. You leave us to the police work. I’m sure your bosses will tell you when the DCI is out of hospital.”
“I’m sure it’s not—”
“I’ll see you around, Kit Singh.” She stood with her hands on her hips and raised her eyebrows at him.
“Fair enough.” He walked towards a grey Hyundai that was parked legally, unlike her own Mini.
She watched him leave, and turned back into Boulton Hall. She didn’t like the idea of Randle having a spy watching them, even if PSD had done the same thing to him. She also didn’t like being taken off Magpie. She could pretend she hadn’t received that instruction, couldn’t she? With Lesley in hospital and Kit Singh an irrelevance, no one need know for now.
Chapter Sixty
Zoe walked into the team room. Mo turned to her, his face full of concern.
“How is she?”
“I don’t know. I was hoping you might.”
He shook his head. “We hav
en’t heard anything.”
She slumped into Connie’s chair. “I thought she’d recovered.” She leaned back, her stomach hollow.
“Why was she at the university?” Mo asked.
“Seeing how the sampling was coming on, doing a bit of community outreach with the warden. And she…”
“What?”
“Nothing. The warden wasn’t even there.”
“She’ll be fine, Zo. You know what she’s like.”
“You should have seen her, Mo. It was scary.”
They stared at each other, both imagining Force CID without Lesley in it and not liking the idea.
Zoe screwed up her eyes and leaned back. She pushed out a breath between her gritted teeth, then looked at Rhodri. “Right. How’s it going with Jenson?”
“Still no word on the hairs, boss,” Rhodri said. “And I’m going to attend the post-mortem.”
“You volunteered?”
He smiled. “I did.”
“Get you.” It wasn’t long ago Rhodri had turned green at the thought of attending a post-mortem. “When is it?”
“Five o’clock.”
“Call me afterwards, let me know if there’s anything I need to be aware of. We know he was a habitual drug user but I want to know if the drug that killed him was new to him. Or if not, was it in his system in significantly larger quantities than he was used to.”
“He might have committed suicide,” Mo said.
“We can’t rule anything out yet,” Zoe agreed. “But the boot print and the hairs steer us away from that. Tell me as soon as we have anything from Adi.”
“Where are you going?” Mo asked.
“I’m going back to Jenson’s house. I had a call from Uniform, one of his housemates has turned up.”
“Where were they all?”
“Lectures, maybe. Hiding out, maybe.”
“Hiding their stash, more like,” said Rhodri.
“How’s Connie getting on?” Mo asked.
“She’s doing fine,” Zoe replied. “I spoke to her after Lesley was taken away. She was nearly halfway through. Apparently there was a problem cos they didn’t have the names of the postgrads living there, but she’s got it in hand.”
Deadly Reprisal (Detective Zoe Finch Book 5) Page 18