Deadly Wishes (Detective Zoe Finch Book 1)

by Rachel McLean

  She pointed at the dresser by the window. He went to it and rummaged inside. At last he withdrew a pair of scissors. He pulled the SIM card out of the bin and snipped it into tiny pieces, washing them down the sink.

  “What did you do that for?” she asked.

  “Never you mind. Now sit down and stay there. I need to find out what’s happening in the other room.”

  Chapter Ninety-Two

  There were three loud knocks at the front door. It had to be police.

  “Go get that, would you?” Zoe said to Rhodri. She still had Winona pinned down on the floor. The woman writhed beneath her but was going nowhere.

  “You should have caught him,” Winona hissed. “You covered it up.”

  Zoe looked down at her. “No, we didn’t.”

  “You will now though, won’t you? No point in telling the world you’ve got a dead paedophile Assistant Chief Constable.” Her eyes widened. “Oh God. Mummy.”

  “Where is your mother?”

  Winona stopped moving. “In the cellar.”

  “You shut your own mum in the cellar?”

  “She was complicit. She knew. She must have.”

  Zoe heaved Winona up to the settee and plonked her down in it. The woman was skinny. Despite being as tall as Zoe, she was featherweight.

  “She had no idea.”

  The door burst open and Rhodri rushed in with two uniformed officers.

  “We’ve had a 999 call, ma’am. DCI Randle.”

  “David Randle?”

  “He witnessed an assault.”

  Zoe looked back at Winona. “Did you attack Margaret?”

  She turned to the uniforms. “Margaret Jackson’s in the cellar. No idea about DCI Randle.”

  “She’s in the kitchen.” Randle straightened his tie as he walked in. His shirt was smudged with dirt and there was a rip on his collar.

  “What are you doing here?” Zoe asked.

  “I could ask the same of you. What the fuck’s going on?”

  “Jackson was involved in Canary. Winona found out and she killed him. And she attacked Margaret. Have you found her?”

  “I helped her out of the cellar. She’s been drugged.”

  “Did you know?”

  “About Winona? Of course not.”

  Zoe approached the DCI, brushing past Rhodri who shifted backwards. “No. About Jackson. Did you know he was part of the paedophile ring?”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed. “That’s one hell of an allegation you’re making against the Assistant Chief Constable. And a dead man, at that.”

  “There are photos. Mo Uddin saw them, before he and DC Williams were attacked.” She gestured towards Winona. “And she saw them too. Did you know?”

  “Does DS Uddin still have them?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Then I have no idea what you’re on about. When was this attack?”

  “Tonight. I don’t have all the details.”

  Her phone rang. It was Mo again. She put up a hand to silence Randle.

  “How is she?”

  “She’s going to be OK. Broken leg, a few bruises.”

  Zoe slumped to the chair opposite Winona. “Thank God for that. Mo, have you still got those photos?”

  “When I came round in the portacabin, they were gone.”

  “Shit.”

  “Yeah.”

  Zoe jabbed a fingernail into her palm. “Don’t worry, Mo. I’m just glad you’re both going to be alright.”

  “Thanks. I’d better go, the doctor’s calling me.”

  Zoe glared at Randle. “If you’ve got anything to do with this…”

  Randle tugged at his shirt. “Detective Inspector. Or rather, Acting Detective Inspector. I suggest you think very carefully about what you say next. I could—”

  “I know what you could do. And I know what I could do.”

  Winona shifted on the settee. “Do I have to watch you argue between yourselves?”

  Zoe lurched over and grabbed her by the handcuffs. She turned to Randle. “Where’s Margaret now?”

  “In the kitchen.”

  “Rhod, can you check on her? See if she’s in a fit state to tell us what happened to her.”

  “Yes, boss.” He slid past Randle.

  Ignoring Winona’s protests, Zoe pulled her out of the room. As she left, she gave Randle a sharp stare.

  “Right. We’ve got a suspect to interview.”

  Chapter Ninety-Three

  They’d placed a blanket over Margaret’s shoulders, rough and scratchy. She followed the police officer out of the kitchen towards the front door.

  Her mind still felt hazy, like she’d dozed off in the garden on a sunny afternoon and come round not quite sure where she was.

  She turned to the constable who was leading her. “The pastries, in the kitchen. Or the tea. You need to test them.”

  He nodded. “Don’t you worry. We’ll sort it all out.”

  Oh but you won’t, she thought to herself. They didn’t sort out Bryn’s death, still didn’t know who had killed him.

  She heard a door open behind her and turned to see a man she didn’t recognise coming out. He stopped and stared at her.

  “Mrs Jackson?”

  “Yes. Who are you?”

  “DC Rhodri Hughes. I work with DI Finch. She’s asked me to check if you’re OK.”

  “I will be. No thanks to your lot.”

  He shifted on his feet. “Er, are you able to tell me what happened? You were drugged, is that right?”

  The living room door opened again and DI Finch came out, leading Winona. Her daughter was handcuffed.

  Margaret put out a hand. “What’s happened? Why have you arrested Winona?”

  The DI passed Winona to another uniformed officer who led her out of the front door. Winona didn’t meet her mother’s eye as she passed.

  The detective stepped towards her. “I’m Detective Inspector Zoe Finch, Mrs Jackson. We met a few times before.”

  “You were with David, when he questioned me. Your colleague here wants to talk to me.”

  “We can do that after you’ve had medical attention.” The detective looked down, her face taut.

  “What’s going on? Where are you taking Winona?”

  “I’m sorry to tell you this, Mrs Jackson. I’ve arrested her for your husband’s murder.”

  Margaret blinked. She focused on remaining upright. “You’ve what?”

  “She came to the house after you left for the party. She waited for him.”

  “Nonsense! I know she’s volatile, but—”

  “Before she drugged you, did she say anything about him? About the reason she did it?”

  “She didn’t do it. And she said—” Margaret tailed off. What was it Winona had said? Something about Bryn being a monster.

  She felt her stomach lurch.

  “She thought he was… that he was involved in… he can’t have been. No.” She stumbled.

  The DI put a hand on her arm. “I’m sorry, Mrs Jackson. We’ll take you to the hospital, have you checked over. And then we’ll talk about what Winona said to you.”

  Margaret stared at the woman. She was swaying in front of her eyes. Margaret rubbed them and realised it was her own vision that was swaying.

  “I don’t feel well.”

  “The ambulance is here. Try not to worry until you’ve been seen.”

  Margaret let the police officer guide her away, wondering how she would ever stop worrying.

  Chapter Ninety-Four

  “I wish she’d stop fussing.”

  Connie sat in an armchair in her mum’s living room, her plastered leg on a stool. Zoe sat on the vast floral settee next to her and Mo perched next to her. His lower arm was also in plaster.

  “She just wants to look after you,” said Zoe. “She’s your mum.”

  Connie’s mum hummed to herself in the kitchen next door. There were clattering sounds, tea being made.

  “I can come back to work,” Con
nie said. “Desk duty.”

  “You’ve been signed off for two more weeks. Make the most of it.”

  “What about you, sarge?” Connie asked. “Have they let you go back?”

  “No chance,” he laughed. “I’m married to a GP, remember? Two more weeks for me, too.”

  “Let’s just hope you don’t get any big cases in the next two weeks, boss,” Connie said. “Just you and Rhod to deal with them.”

  Zoe smiled at her. “We’ll be fine. Don’t you worry.”

  Connie’s mum reappeared with the largest teapot Zoe had ever seen in one hand and a plate with a teetering pile of biscuits in the other. “Do you like hobnobs, Inspector? We don’t have anything better.”

  “I love hobnobs,” said Zoe. She ignored Mo’s raised eyebrow and took one. While Mrs Williams turned away to pour Connie’s tea, she slipped it into her pocket. Mo pulled a face at her and she gave him a gentle kick.

  “Thank you for coming to check on her.”

  “No problem, Mrs Williams. It’s the least we could do.”

  Mrs Williams turned and gave Zoe a stern look. “You can call me Annabelle, please.”

  “In that case, you can call me Zoe.”

  The woman nodded. “Very well. Zoe.”

  The door opened and a slim teenage boy in an orange hoody burst in. “Oh. What’s going on?”

  “Zachary Williams, get to your room. Your sister’s senior officers are here.”

  The boy grinned. “Hi.”

  “Hi,” said Mo.

  “Thanks for your help,” said Zoe. “With the art history and that.”

  He shrugged. “No problem. I’m off to Danny’s, Mum. Alright?”

  “Just make sure you’re back for your tea.”

  He grinned at his sister. “Yeah, yeah.”

  Annabelle turned and gave him a gentle slap on the backside as he left the room. “Don’t think I didn’t see that.”

  Connie rolled her eyes and mouthed back to work at Zoe. Zoe shook her head.

  Zoe sat in the front of her Mini. She fished the hobnob out of her pocket. “Food of the devil.” She grimaced at it.

  “I’ll have it,” said Mo. “I’m sugar deprived.”

  “It’s been in my pocket.”

  “Yeah. Maybe not.”

  She stuffed it back in her pocket. Must remember to deal with that when she got home.

  “Right, let’s get you home. I shouldn’t have brought you anyway, with you being on leave.”

  “I needed to check on her.”

  “I know.” She put her key in the ignition.

  “Not yet,” muttered Mo.

  “Hmm?”

  “Catriona’s treating me like an invalid.”

  “You are an invalid.”

  “Still. It’s nice to just sit here. In the car.”

  “Yeah.”

  She leaned back and surveyed the street. Connie’s family lived on a narrow street of terraced houses in Gravelly Hill. The motorway hummed behind them, and cars lined the street. It had taken ten minutes and four circuits before they’d found a parking space, and that was fifteen houses away from Connie’s.

  “She’s just looking after you,” Zoe said.

  “I know. And I love her for it. But I want to be back at work.”

  “Not for another fortnight. Sorry, mate.”

  “What have I missed?”

  “Apart from Winona Jackson’s arrest and Margaret Jackson’s outburst in her witness interview?”

  He grinned. “Rhodri told me about that. Poor woman.”

  “Poor Rhod, more like. Didn’t know she had it in her.”

  “Maybe she’d been keeping it bottled up.”

  “Maybe,” said Zoe.

  “Did you find out the link between Winona and Irina?”

  “Very humdrum, I’m afraid. They were neighbours. Both regulars in that café on the ground floor of Irina’s building.”

  “I wonder how much Irina knew about her husband,” Mo said.

  “Plenty, I imagine.” They were still trying to convince the coroner to reopen her case.

  “Yeah.”

  “There’s been a shake-up,” she said. “In the department.”

  “Go on. They’ve made you DCI and me your DI.”

  “You wish. But my DI role is permanent. Filling the gap left by Carl Whaley.”

  “Who’s gone back to Bristol.”

  “No. He’s gone to local CID in Kings Norton.”

  “Randle really didn’t like him, did he?”

  “No. And now that Randle’s going to be Superintendent, his word goes.”

  “Jammy sod.”

  Zoe watched a woman with two small boys walk past. One of the children stopped walking and sat on the pavement. The woman grabbed his hand and tried to tug him after her. The child refused to budge.

  “You didn’t have to go to the funeral,” she said.

  Mo shrugged. “Police funeral. Murder victim. Only respectful. It was nice. Tasteful.”

  The woman gave the boy a firm tug and trudged after her, wailing as he went.

  “As tasteful as you can get when the guy in the coffin was a disgrace to the force and his daughter murdered him.”

  “I half thought she’d be there,” he said.

  “No. She’d have made a scene. That’s what she was like.”

  “So you report to Lesley now then?” asked Mo.

  “Yup. For my sins.”

  “Ah, she’s OK.”

  “She’s a stickler for procedure.”

  Mo raised an eyebrow. “Maybe you could do with a bit of that.”

  Zoe scoffed. She turned the key. “Come on. I need to get back to Nicholas.”

  “Sorry. I’m being selfish.”

  “That’s what mates are for.” She pulled out of the parking space. “I’ll come round on Wednesday. Anything I can get you?”

  He shook his head and leaned back in his seat. “Carl’s been moved to Kings Norton, huh?”

  Zoe stiffened. “Yes. You think it’s odd?”

  “I think it’s handy.”

  “What for?”

  “For you. He’s got his eye on you, Zo. He’s hot, too.”

  “Don’t talk rubbish.”

  “I’m not so loved-up with Cat that I don’t know what a good-looking man looks like. I’ve seen the female PCs watching him.”

  “I’m not interested, Mo. He’s… he’s not for me.”

  “We’ll see.”

  Chapter Ninety-Five

  Nicholas was in the kitchen making moussaka. Zoe sat in front of the TV, taking in the smells, her mouth watering. It was good to have him back. They still hadn’t caught the guy who’d robbed her house but she was confident that with the Jacksons case wrapped up, he wouldn’t be back.

  She heaved herself up and wandered in to watch him chop aubergines.

  “Smells awesome.”

  “Don’t say awesome, mum.”

  “Why not? It does.”

  “You’re too old. Say it smells nice.”

  “Oh. It smells nice, then.”

  “That’s better.”

  “Except it doesn’t. It smells awesome.”

  He flicked the tea towel at her. She laughed and batted it to one side. She went to the fridge and grabbed a can of Coke.

  “It’s good to have you back,” she said.

  “Good to be back. Geordie’s OK in small doses, but he was doing my head in.”

  She touched his shoulder, then withdrew her hand as he flinched. “I know. Sorry you had to go through that.”

  He threw the aubergines into a pan of hot oil and started pushing them around, his tongue poking between his lips.

  “Did Jim tell you how he knew about the break in?” she asked, trying to sound casual.

  “No. He’s a copper. He’d have known, wouldn’t he?”

  “Maybe.”

  Nicholas glanced at her. “I met one of your colleagues today.”

  “You didn’t get yourself arrested,
I hope?”

  “Nah. That was yesterday.”

  “Very funny. Who?”

  His wooden spoon picked up pace in the pan. “Connie. She’s your DC, isn’t she?”

  “She is. Good copper.”

  He nodded. “Yeah. I liked her.”

  “How did you meet her?” She reached out to grab a slice of aubergine. He yelped at her and she drew back.

  “I went to her house. With her brother.”

  “Zaf. The art expert.”

  Nicholas turned to her. His face was flushed and his pupils dilated. “You’ve met him?”

  “I went to the house on Tuesday. How is she?”

  “Being royally fussed over.”

  “Good. So, how…?”

  “I met him at the open day for the Uni last week. He’s applied for Birmingham too.”

  “Doing Psychology like you? No, sorry. He’ll be doing Art History. I think that’s what Connie said.”

  Nicholas returned to his stirring. “You seem to know a lot about him.”

  “Just his sister. Although I’m learning more about her every day.”

  “Well, you should. She works for you. And she’s got a very cute brother.”

  Zoe smiled, her chest lightening. “You’re going out with him?”

  He shrugged. “Not officially. Not yet. But maybe, yeah.”

  She gave him a hug from behind. He let her. “Good. I’m happy for you.”

  The doorbell rang and she took a step back. “Was this your way of telling me you’ve invited him round?”

  He glanced towards the front of the house. “No.”

  “Hmm.” She put down her drink and went to the door.

  Standing on her front step was Carl Whaley.

  “Carl. I thought you’d moved teams.”

  “I thought you might like a drink.”

  She peered back at Nicholas. “A drink?”

  Carl shrugged. “Maybe not somewhere full of students this time.”

  “I like students. Why d’you think I live here?”

  “Whatever works for you.”

  She folded her arms. “Are you here to quiz me, Carl? You want me to be your mole, spying on Detective Superintendent Randle?”

  “I heard about his promotion.” He didn’t look pleased about it.