Soul to Keep

by Clare Revell

  “Exactly. As her mentor, you should have realised that, stepped back from this case and let more experienced officers handle it.”

  DI Holmes frowned. “Giving the case to Zander and Isabel was my call, and I’m confident in their abilities to solve it.”

  Zander gathered the files. “I’m also Isabel’s partner. She’s insisted on coming into work when she’s sick. She didn’t even take a day off to attend the funeral of the only relative she had. She might struggle with some aspects of this case.” He narrowed his gaze. “But to be fair we all have. Perhaps you’d like to find someone’s tongue in your inbox… sir! She’s the best officer I have worked with in a long time. And if you can’t see that, well, perhaps you’re the one who needs to take a long, hard look at yourself. Just back off and pick on someone your own size and rank!” He shook his head and turned to DI Holmes. “If you’ll excuse me, Sir, I have work to do.”

  He tucked the files under his arm and left the office, slamming the door hard behind him, not caring if it bounced open again, which it did. He marched to his desk and shoved the files into a drawer, banging that shut as well. “Where’s Isabel?”

  DS Philips looked up. “She said something about a bus stop and not being competent. What’s wrong? She looked really upset.”

  “Just Chief Superintendent Jerk being himself, and picking on someone who won’t fight back. If anyone wants me, I’m going to catch Isabel’s bus to somewhere… anywhere… that isn’t here!” Zander ran from the room and hurtled down the stairs, so fast he was amazed he didn’t fall and break several bones. He could see Isabel at the bus stop as he reached the street, the bus just pulling up. “Isabel, wait!”

  She either didn’t hear him, or ignored him as she got on the bus. The doors shut.

  Zander ran faster, flagging the bus down, praying it would stop and wait for him. Relief flooded him when it did. He had just enough change for a return fare and paid before searching for Isabel. She wasn’t on the lower deck, so he climbed the stairs as the bus pulled away into the traffic.

  Isabel sat half way down the back of the bus.

  He dropped into the seat beside her. “So, where are we going?”

  “Home,” she whispered, her voice and averted face giving away the fact she was crying. “You heard him. Not fit for purpose.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “I’m resigning as of now. I’ll send the letter tomorrow. He only confirmed what everyone else said and thinks. You can have a new partner. One who is better suited and more capable. Who doesn’t throw up and pass out and so on. And who isn’t a woman and can do the job properly.” She sobbed.

  Zander drew in a deep breath. Lord, give me the right words here. She can’t quit, she’s none of those things that horrid man was accusing her of being. “Oh, no,” he said. “That’s not happening. Is, look at me.” He paused, waiting until she twisted to face him. Her eyes were red and puffy, her cheeks damp, and utter misery exuded from her whole being. “You can’t leave. I mean, I’ve only just broken you in. Your tea is almost drinkable now.”

  “You heard him. So did everyone else.”

  Zander shook his head firmly. “No. I heard a jerk yelling at a woman for being female. A bully who thinks just because he has a higher rank and more shiny ribbons than anyone else, he can do and say whatever he likes. Fact is, we are a team. If they want you off this case, then we are off this case. We will take another one.”

  “Maybe.”

  “But only the Guv can make that decision. He hand picks every single member of this unit for a reason. And if that’s not good enough, then God wants you here, and there’s no arguing with God.” He paused. “Besides, CS Jerk will want my head on a platter now after the way I spoke to him. Kind of let him have it with both barrels. So, where are we going?”

  Isabel frowned. “Told you, home.”

  He winked. “I haven’t been on a bus in years and never in Headley Cross. I’d rather go on an adventure.”

  “There aren’t any dragons, so it’s not an adventure. Least, not a proper one.”

  “Good. Don’t like dragons. ’Sides, I slayed one in the Guv’s office not that long ago. Right nasty one he was, fire, smoke, lasers for eyes, the works.” Zander elbowed her. “So, how about we go back to the nick, take the service car, and go for a drive. We could go visit all the crime scenes, in order. Go over the notes. See if we can come up with any more outlandish theories as to why he picked those spots rather than somewhere else. Then we could find some chips and bacon and tea and chocolate and… Is, I need you. OK? Please, don’t quit. Stay with me.” He paused. Then burst into song.

  “Oh, enough. Don’t sing.” Isabel reached out and rang the bell.

  “You’re a good police officer. Don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise. One bad week at home, or one unsolvable case do not a bad copper make.” He paused. “We’ll get him.”

  “And how many more women will die before we do?”

  “I repeat. We’ll get him.”

  “We need to get off. This is our stop if we’re going back to work.”

  Zander followed her down the stairs and off the bus onto the side of the road. He winked at her. “That was fun. We should catch the bus again some time.”

  She looked at him in despair. “Then unless we’re walking, that would be in a few minutes on the other side of the road.”

  8

  Zander stood at crime scene number three, Isabel by his side. The crime scene tape hung motionless in the airless humidity. Dark threatening clouds built on the horizon. The phone in his pocket rang.

  Isabel glanced at him. “Will You Help Me Hide a Body? Seriously?”

  Zander smirked. “Everyone has personalised ring tones. That way I know who’s calling before I read the screen. I set them up last night. This is the Guv’s.”

  “Do I want to know what mine is?”

  He shook his head. “Nope.” Swiping the phone, he answered the call. “Ellery.”

  “Zander, where are you?”

  “Isabel and I are revisiting the crime scenes to see if we missed anything, sir,” Zander replied. “We’re not slacking off or having coffee or even swapping makeup tips.”

  “I need you both back here in my office now.” The joke had obviously fallen flat. DI Holmes sounded seriously peeved.

  “On our way, sir.” Zander tucked the phone away. “Guv wants us back now.”

  “Probably to clear my desk,” Isabel said. She shrugged. “It was fun while it lasted. Well, some of it.”

  “Oh, ye of little faith.” Zander turned, heading back to where he’d parked the car. “He’d have rung you in that case. Nope he’s firing me.”

  She looked at him. “My phone is turned off. Why would he fire you?”

  “Because I told CS Jerk where to go. As well as calling him a few other choice things.”

  Her eyes widened. “You didn’t?”

  “Yup. Even called him that in the office. Not to his face, but no doubt he overheard me talking to the Sarge. I stormed out of the room and slammed the door to the Guv’s office so hard it bounced open again. So failing the sergeant exam really doesn’t matter anymore. I shall need a new job by lunchtime.”

  “You go, I go.”

  “That’s the motto of the Chicago Fire Department. At least according to a film I saw once,” he told her, unlocking the car from a distance as he always did.

  “Then we need our own slogan. How about who dares wins.”

  “That’s the SAS.”

  Isabel pulled her bag higher on her shoulder. “Last in, first out.”

  He smirked. “That’s you, that is.”

  She grinned. “I know. Last one to the car buys the bacon.”

  Both of them set off sprinting. Zander let her win, laughing as she celebrated. He’d do anything to see that smile on her face again. And yes, even if it meant he was out of a job, he’d stand up for her over and over again. No woman should be treated that way. Ever.

  Isa
bel climbed into the car. “Do we have a map of the town? I want to put it on the wall in the office.”

  “I can find one. You want to stick pins into it?”

  She nodded. “Saw it on a cop show once. Red for the location of the body. Green for where they lived. Blue for their place of work. Yellow for the church they attended.”

  “We’ll need more pins. I only have red ones.”

  “Then can we get some? Assuming we’re not fired.”

  “Sure. I’ll even go to the stores cupboard and get them myself.”

  “And if they don’t have the right colours?”

  He started the engine. “Then we’ll raid the petty cash tin and buy them. In any event we need decent biscuits. So we raid the tin anyway.”

  She undid her hair, letting it fall free for a moment before pulling it back into a high ponytail. “You do have your uses after all.”

  “Hah.” He drove back to the station, his stomach in turmoil. What if this really was it? He took comfort in the fact that whatever lay before him in the next half hour, God was in his corner. He’d done it for the right reasons.

  There was no one in the squad room.

  Zander looked at Isabel. “Put the kettle on. I’m desperate for a cuppa.”

  The office door opened. DI Holmes stood there, shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows. “Zander, a word. Now.”

  Zander inhaled deeply. “New motto. We who are about to die…”

  “Die quietly,” Isabel finished, heading over to the kettle.

  Zander walked to the office, a heavy cloud hanging over him. Outside the windows, lightning flashed.

  DI Holmes shut the door. “Have a seat.”

  Zander stood by the desk. “Sir, if you’re firing me, just get on and do it.”

  “Fire you?” DI Holmes quirked an eyebrow.

  Thunder crashed from some distance away.

  “Yes.”

  “Why would I want to fire you?” He pointed to the chair. “Sit.”

  Zander did as he was told. “I just thought, well assumed…”

  “Go on, please. Don’t stop there. You weren’t lost for words earlier.”

  “After what I said to Chief Superintendent Clydesdale, and what I called him, I assumed he’d want my head on a platter.”

  “Oh, he does.” A slight smile crossed the DI’s face, just for a moment. “Well, fortunately your name isn’t John the Baptist. Although it might be better to keep the sexist pig and jerk comments somewhere he can’t hear them. However, it takes guts to stand up for your partner in front of the brass. Not to mention a certain kind of madness. And I’m sure once he calms down he’ll see that.”

  “Sir, I…”

  DI Holmes held up a hand. “Let me finish. It wasn’t that long ago that I was a DS working a serial killer case—a really nasty one involving the Herbalist.”

  “The one where the Prime Minister got killed?”

  “Yeah. I was there, ended up diving on her to try to protect her, but wasn’t fast enough. She died in Adeline’s arms. That’s my wife, although we weren’t married at the time.”

  “That must have been awful.”

  “It was. And this unit got a lot of flak for it. If we knew we had a serial killer in town, why weren’t the Prime Minister’s security detail notified? Why hadn’t we caught him? Who was the intended target and so on? But that pales into insignificance at finding your partner’s wife slain by the same bloke and having to break the news to him myself.” He paused. “So I really am on yours and Isabel’s side here. I want to call a press conference just after lunch. Warn the public. And I’d like you and Isabel there. And one of you to speak.”

  Zander raised an eyebrow. Had he heard the man right? “Sir?”

  “It’s your case, only right you speak. But I need you to keep something back. The paintings, and the word ‘guilty’. I don’t want a copycat killer going on a spree here. Let me see yours and Isabel’s draft for this as soon as possible.”

  “So we’re still on the case?” Zander didn’t hide his confusion. He’d expected to be fired at worse, chewed out at best, instead neither had happened, and he was expected to front a press conference. “I’m not fired?”

  DI Holmes shook his head. “Not unless you want to be.”

  “No, no.” Zander replied quickly. “We just assumed—Isabel is pretty shaken up. When I caught her up, she was on the bus home, all ready to quit. Looked like she’d been crying.”

  “I’ll have a word. Let her know that everything is all right,” DI Holmes assured him. “You get that force wide alert out whilst I talk to her. That was a good call on your part.”

  “All Isabel’s idea, sir. Not mine.”

  DI Holmes eyes twinkled. “She has the makings of a fine officer.”

  “She does, just needs to be given space to find her wings. And encouraged rather than put down all the time.” He paused. “She could also do with the lads laying off a little. They have very little respect for female detectives. And it’s not just a one off either. Robert and Mark are particularly bad.” Zander watched his commanding officer carefully. “But you didn’t hear that from me, and you certainly won’t hear it from her. Those idiot cops that discovered the last body were downright nasty to her. And she used to work with them before she transferred. I thought maybe it was jealousy, but honestly, it seemed normal for them to talk to her like that.”

  DI Holmes frowned. “Hmm. Promise me you won’t go and verbally insult them as well.”

  “Can’t make any promises, sir. Isabel is my partner. I would die for her if I had to.”

  “OK. Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that either. Send her in, will you?”

  Zander nodded. Making sure he had his best poker face on, he left the room, and crossed to where Isabel sat. “Your turn.”

  She swallowed, losing the colour from her face, and trudged across to the Guv’s office. She tapped twice, then went inside, and shut the door.

  Zander made two mugs of tea, as Isabel hadn’t done any more than put the kettle on. He carried them to the desks and set them down. Then he dropped into his chair and swung it to face his desk. Snatching up the phone, he placed calls to the neighbouring forces of Bedfordshire and Oxfordshire. He scribbled down the email addresses to send the lists to, once they had amalgamated both of them. Picking up his mug, he sipped the hot liquid.

  Hands dropped heavily on his shoulders making him jump. Tea sloshed in his cup. “What?”

  “You are a brat, DC Ellery,” Isabel hissed.

  He chuckled. “I can be.”

  “Maybe we should get that tattooed on your forehead.”

  “How about we start work on this press release the Guv wants instead? Before he shouts again.”

  “I wouldn’t know where to start,” she said. “I’ve never done one before.”

  “Pull up a chair,” he said, cracking his fingers. “Let the master teach you. Rule one. Never disclose all your cards. Keep something back, so that when the murderer is caught and confessing, you know it’s him and not some thrill seeker looking for his five minutes of fame.”

  He pulled over a pad of paper. “So, tell me about the case, bare facts, don’t want to scare monger, but we need to warn women what to look out for.”

  DI Holmes peered out of the office. “One o’clock. Press room.”

  Zander glanced at the clock. “It’s eleven now. We have two hours to polish this.” He grinned. “Once it’s written that is.”

  ~*~

  Isabel glanced into the press briefing room. As plain as they always looked on the TV news, it was simply an office with a long table and several microphones on. Chairs filled the rest of the room where numerous journalists were setting up TV cameras and checking mobile phones, recording devices, and cameras.

  She pulled back and looked at DI Holmes and Zander. “I don’t think I can do this.”

  “Then let Zander take the lead,” DI Holmes said. “I know this is your first press conference and it can be a little da
unting.”

  “A little?” Zander said. “Try a lot. It’s like a feeding frenzy on a good day. And this ain’t one of them.”

  Isabel tilted her head. “Isn’t one of those,” she corrected.

  He scrunched his nose. “Were you a grammar teacher in a former life or something?”

  “No.” She shoved down the feeling she was being picked on. The feeling of inadequacy comments like that always provoked. Zander was teasing. He wasn’t like the others, who meant the snide comments and harsh looks. The others in the squad who made it clear they didn’t want her around.

  Maybe she was reading too much into it. Again. But everyone treated her the same way, except Gran. And Gran wasn’t here to defend Isabel anymore. She had no one.

  Zander touched her arm. “Earth to Isabel. You OK?”

  She nodded. “Yeah. Sorry, my mind wandered.”

  “Thinking about your gran?” he asked. “You had a sad look in your eyes.”

  “Yeah,” she said. She wouldn’t mention the other things.

  Zander took the sheet of paper from her hands. “I’ll do this one. You can just sit there and look…”

  She stuck her hands on her hips. “Pretty? Be one of those ring girls? Eye candy? The token, useless female officer that no one really wants, and is just here to keep the sexual discrimination board happy?”

  “Hey.” Zander raised his hands, cutting her off. “Easy, tiger. Who rattled your cage?”

  DI Holmes glanced at her. “Is there something you need to tell me, Isabel?”

  She shook her head. “No, sir.”

  “Hmmm.” He didn’t look convinced. “OK, let’s do this.” He entered the room. “Good afternoon.”

  Isabel followed Zander and took the seat at the end of the table.

  DI Holmes adjusted the microphone in front of him. “I’m DI Holmes. With me is DC Ellery and DC York. As you know, there have been four murders in the past few weeks attributed to the man you people called the Prayer Slayer. We’re here to update you on the investigation so far.”

  Zander shook the piece of paper. “Each of the girls was found in a white towelling dress. Her wrists and knees were bound with duct tape. Each girl had long dark hair, brown eyes, and worked and lived locally.”