by Clare Revell
He nodded. “And I won’t leave until SOCO are finished.”
~*~
Zander finished washing the plates and put them away. He went back into the lounge. At least Isabel had more colour now than she had earlier. “Are you sure you’ll be all right?”
Isabel nodded. “Yes.” She stroked the cat’s back. “Mr. T will keep me company. I just wish I knew where I’d last seen that wretched notebook. I have looked everywhere. I didn’t change my bag. The last time I remember having it was the day we went to see Blood Brothers.”
Zander eased onto the sofa. “Did you take it with you?”
“To the theatre? I don’t think so.” She paused, stroking the cat’s ears, making the animal purr. “No, I took my evening bag with me. You used your notebook at the crime scene.”
He rose and dropped to his knees in front of the sofa. Flipping up the torch app on his phone, he peered underneath it. “Nothing here. Well, except this.” He stretched a hand under the sofa and retrieved a ping pong ball. He showed the cat and threw it.
Mr. T leapt off Isabel’s lap and chased after the ball, happily batting it around the room.
Zander looked at Isabel. “We’ll turn your desk upside down tomorrow,” he said. “It has to be somewhere. Unless Farrell did take it somehow. Least SOCO didn’t make too much of a mess for us to tidy up.”
She shrugged, stifling a yawn. “Just as well. I’m tired.”
He took that as his cue to leave. “Well, I’m heading home and I’ll let you get some sleep. And don’t tell me you don’t need it. Just make sure you lock everything up properly.”
“Yes, Daddy,” she said, grinning at him.
He nodded. “Good girl. I’ll be here bright and early to pick you up. We’ll even stop off at your doctors on the way to work and make you an appointment.”
“During work hours?” she asked, angling her head at him. “Guv won’t like it.”
“Hey, he’s been on and on about you getting blood tests done. Sides, the work doc told you to go, so the Guv can’t say anything. If he does decide to object, then we can simply go out and pretend we’re working. What he doesn’t know won’t kill him.”
~*~
Isabel finished adding the new information to the incident board. The three boards filled one side of the squad room.
The men had spent the last half hour reorganising all the desks, so that everyone could see the boards from where they sat. DI Holmes and DS Philips were sequestered in the Guv office with the door shut.
Isabel was just relieved he hadn’t asked her about a GP appointment or her notebook. But then the day was still young. At least she could tell him she had an appointment Monday afternoon to see her GP.
Zander looked at her. “Hey, are you trying to encourage him to come over here and talk to us?”
She shook her head. “No, why?”
“Then quit looking over at the office door and look busy. That glass panel works both ways.”
Isabel leaned back in her chair and tapped her pen on the desk. “Well, I would, but…”
Zander chuckled. “No work to do?”
She indicated the room. “It’s gone from too much to not enough.” Her email chimed. “Oh, wait. Something here.” She leaned forward and tapped the mouse. “Oh, no, just junk. Unless you requested information on a river cruise to my account?”
Zander laughed. “No. Go on; open it, just for a laugh.” He scooted his chair across so he could read the screen as well.
Isabel opened the email. “‘Dear Ms. York, have you ever fancied a cruise along the River Danube’… OK. So, that begs the question. Why is it the River Danube, the River Thames but the Hudson River?”
Zander slanted his head. “I have never wondered about that. But I have no idea. Perhaps some rivers like the Danube and Thames have airs of grandeur and want to be posh. Or maybe they are royal rivers and the Hudson isn’t?”
“Maybe.” She turned back to her email. “We invite you to try a leisurely cruise…”
DI Holmes opened his office door. “It’s very quiet out here.”
Zander looked up. “That’s because we’re all busy working, Guv. In fact, Isabel and I are just off out.”
She glanced at him. They weren’t, but he obviously had something in mind. She reached down to open the bottom drawer in her desk to retrieve her bag.
A uniformed officer came into the room. “DC York?”
Isabel glanced over. “Here.”
He crossed the room. “A letter and a package just arrived for you. One by courier and one by post.”
DI Holmes strode across the room. “Who touched them?”
“We wore gloves as soon as they arrived, sir,” the officer said. “The courier and post lady are being fingerprinted now.”
“Thank you. We’ll take it from here.” DI Holmes turned to glance behind him. “Steve, you get down there and talk to the courier now. Harry, go with him.” As the two men nodded and ran from the room after the uniformed officer, DI Holmes turned back to Isabel. “OK, Isabel.”
She started. “You want me to open them?”
“It’s your mail.” He tossed her a pair of gloves.
Isabel’s stomach gurgled with alarm as she tugged on the gloves. She hated latex on a good day and had seen way too much of it recently. Would this nightmare never end? Her hands trembled as she turned the package over. “Brown paper, printed handwriting, looks the same as before. No return address or postage, so this one must have been couriered.”
She opened the package carefully, holding her breath as she tipped out the contents. She really hoped it wasn’t another body part. “Oh.” That she wasn’t expecting. “My notebook.” She flipped through it. “Apart from those few torn out pages Farrell had it seems intact. And there is a note with it. It says…” She unfolded it and frowned. “Found on the ninety-two bus. You should be more careful where you leave things.”
Zander looked at her. “You never catch the ninety-two.”
“Because there isn’t one,” she shot back. She froze as something occurred to her. “I haven’t seen this since the night we saw Blood Brothers. The night Esther Leaney was murdered. And the play references the ninety-two bus several times. They make a joke of it. Whoever took this wants me to know they are watching my every move.”
DI Holmes held out an evidence bag. “Well, you’re not having it back. I want every page checked and photographed and fingerprinted.”
Isabel rolled her eyes at Zander. “Oops. Let’s just hope I didn’t leave our secret plans to run the entire unit in there as well.”
Zander grinned. “Nope, that’s in mine.” He glanced sideways at them. “Though, on second thoughts, no one can read your writing, so we’d best use yours in the future.”
Isabel picked up the envelope. “No prizes for guessing what this is.” She carefully turned it over. “Same handwriting, local postmark.” She frowned. “Old stamp, though.”
DS Philips looked at it. “How can you tell?”
“I collect them,” she said. “I get the first day covers for each new set as they are released. These are from last September. We should check all the others.” She turned the envelope over. “Has the glue been checked for saliva?”
“No idea,” DI Holmes said. “Should have been, but I’ll check.”
Isabel pulled out the postcard. She studied the photograph, recognising it instantly. “It’s Headley Baptist Church.” She flipped the card over. “I AM THE LORD YOUR GOD. YOU SHALL NOT MURDER. 5-17.”
She shuddered. Maybe the Slayer would kill himself this time, but somehow, she doubted it. She slid the card into an evidence bag.
DI Holmes held his hand out for the card. He glanced over it. “OK. This gives us the advantage. I want the church staked out day and night for the next few days. Dane, call everyone back for a team briefing now. Zander, call Pastor Jack and Pastor Carson, or one of them. I’ll copy this for the incident board. We’ll catch this bloke. He’s finally made a mistake.
”
19
Zander sat at his desk, phone in one hand, pen tapping on the table with the other. He watched Isabel at her desk, head in her hands, trying to make sense of this. There was no question now someone was watching her. Perhaps they should either make her live in the nick or go to a safe house, or move in with him for the duration. He couldn’t see any of those options going down particularly well with her if he were honest.
The call he’d made finally connected as Isabel got up and headed out of the room. “Hello?”
“Hi, this is DC Zander Ellery, Thames Valley Police. Could I speak to Pastor Jack Chambers, please?”
“One moment and I’ll get him for you.”
There was a gap of about half a minute, before the phone crackled. “Hello, Zander. What can I do for you?”
“Pastor, this is a courtesy call to let you know we’ll have both uniform and plain clothes officers in the church, attending all the meetings and youth work, as well as watching the grounds for the next few days.”
A sharp intake of breath came as no surprise. “I see. May I ask why?”
“We have good reason to suspect a crime will be committed on the church grounds in the next two or three days. If we can catch the perpetrator in the act, or preferably beforehand, it’ll be best for everyone.”
“The church? I don’t know that it’s appropriate to have officers there for all the meetings. It’s a members only meeting tonight and…”
Zander held out the phone. He looked at DI Holmes. “Guv, as a church elder, can I defer this to you?”
DI Holmes grinned and took the phone. “Jack, it’s Nate.” He listened. “Yes, I know that. No, all normal church activities should carry on as usual. We don’t want to tip this bloke off.” He paused. “Prayer Slayer, yes, but you didn’t get that from any of us. You worked it out for yourself. The church meeting can go ahead as scheduled tonight. Look, you’ll have at least three church members who are police officers in attendance tonight anyway along with four of us at the prayer meeting on Friday. Dane and I can help out at youth club on Saturday as our girls will be there, so that can also go ahead as normal.”
Isabel came back in and slid into her chair. She looked a little green around the gills again, but Zander decided not to comment on it.
“The Guv is sweet-talking Pastor Jack into letting us stake out the church.”
“Seriously?” she asked.
He nodded. “Well, not exactly grovelling, but pretty close. He’s playing the church elder card.”
“Elder?” she asked quietly. “I didn’t know that.”
The rest of the team came in and took their seats.
DS Philips shut the squad room door before sitting at his desk.
DI Holmes put the phone back on its base. “OK, sorted. Right, is everyone here?” He glanced around and then held up the bagged postcard. “Isabel received another card. With the sixth commandment on the back. But this time we know where the location is.” He pinned the blown-up copy of the photo onto the incident board. “Headley Baptist Church. So we’re staking out both chapel and grounds for the next few days and nights.”
Zander’s phone rang. “Sorry, Guv.” He glanced at the screen. “I have to take this. DC Ellery.”
“Hello, Zander. It’s Mrs. Johnson, your grandfather’s neighbour. I didn’t know who to call.”
Zander stood and moved quickly into the corridor so as not to annoy the Guv further. “It’s fine. What’s wrong?”
“I think there’s a problem, next door, at your grandfather’s place. I could hear shouting and banging. I tried ringing him, but there was no answer. So I tried knocking, but no one came to the door and the spare key isn’t there. I have to go out or I’d try again in a few minutes.”
Zander shook his head, worry piercing his gut. “No, you did the right thing. I’ll come right over. Thank you for calling me.” He ended the call and stuck his head back into the squad room. “Is, we’ve got to roll. Now. Something’s going down at Gr…Mr. McNally’s place.”
Isabel stood, grabbing her bag. “Again?”
“Yeah. Call from the neighbours this time. Sounds like more trouble, but it’s important. So I’m handling it rather than passing it on to uniform.” He glanced at DI Holmes. “Sorry, Guv. We’ll be back soon as we can.”
Isabel ran from the room and shut the door. “How bad?”
“She’s reporting shouts, crashes, and she can’t get an answer. The spare key is missing.”
“Do you have one?”
“Yes. Come on, run.” He didn’t want to waste a second as he raced down the corridor, praying hard. He should have moved Gramps out of that flat a long time ago. Put pressure on the council to find him somewhere on the ground floor, somewhere the local kids wouldn’t terrorise him.
Maybe Gramps had fallen. A simple fall, and he was banging to get attention. But why was the key missing? Too many unanswered questions caused the concern in his gut to grow until it consumed him.
~*~
Isabel hung on tight to the door handle as Zander drove like a maniac. She’d tried quoting First Kings chapter nine and verse twenty at him, telling him his driving was like Jehu’s, but all she got in response was a grunt. Either Zander didn’t get the reference, or he didn’t much care for it. She sighed. “Times like this we need lights and sirens.”
“Tell me about it. Every single blasted light is red!”
“You’ll get pulled over if you’re not careful,” she hissed as he overtook someone, and not very carefully either. “I know you said that won’t happen as this is a service vehicle, but honestly, you’re asking for it right now.”
Blue lights flashed behind them, a siren wailed, and headlights flashed.
Isabel groaned. “Told you. You’d better pull over.”
Zander muttered under his breath and swerved to one side. He stuck the hazard lights on and got out of the car, pulling something from his pocket.
Isabel shook her head. He was so lucky this wasn’t the States, or they’d have shot him on sight and asked questions later. In the UK, no cop was armed, unless they were part of the specially trained Armed Response Unit.
A uniformed officer approached the car. “Get back in the vehicle, sir.”
Zander held out his ID. “DC Ellery and York. This is a service car. We’re on the way to an emergency call. Possible break in and assault in progress. It’s my grandfather’s place. I don’t suppose there’s any chance of an escort. Please?”
Isabel shook her head at him.
The uniformed officer nodded. “Sure.”
“Thank you.” Zander climbed back in the car and looked at her. “Well, if you don’t ask you don’t get.”
“I’m amazed that worked.”
Zander started the car again. “Me, too. Besides, if I got another speeding ticket, the Guv might just nail me up against a wall and shoot me himself.”
She laughed. “Or at least put your mug shot on the dart board so we can throw sharp pointy things at it.” She leaned back in the seat as they set off at speed again, this time being escorted. “I assume they’ll provide us with back up on arrival.”
“Hope so. And that lift had better be working.”
Ten minutes later they arrived at the flats. Of course the lift was out of order, so they set off running up the fourteen flights of stairs to the seventh floor, followed by the two uniformed officers.
Zander pounded on the door. “Gramps!” No answer came. He tugged out his keys and unlocked the door. He ran inside. “Gramps, where are you?”
The flat was a mess. Books and photos lay everywhere.
Isabel headed to the kitchen. Mr. McNally lay on the floor surrounded by china, blood seeping from a head wound. He’d lost a lot of blood judging by the amount pooled beneath him. “Zander, kitchen!” She dropped to her knees and felt for his pulse.
Zander ran in. “No…”
Isabel glanced up. “He’s alive. Call an ambulance and then ring the Guv.”
Isabel tuned him out. Mr. Mac’s pulse was slow and faint, but there. She tugged off her shirt, grateful she’d put a tee shirt underneath, and pressed the fabric against the deep head wound.
Zander knelt beside her. “Gramps? What do I do?”
“Did you ring the Guv? Or SOCO?”
He shook his head. “An ambulance is coming.”
Isabel glanced at him. He seemed to have forgotten the first rule of crime scenes. “OK. Then I’ll call him. Hold this tightly against his head and give me your phone.” She looked up at the uniformed officer. “Call it in. We need SOCO over here ASAP.”
As the police officer spoke into his radio, Isabel took Zander’s phone and dialled.
“Holmes. How’s it going, Zander? You on your way back?”
“This is Isabel, sir. And no. We’re still at Mr. McNally’s place and will be out of the office for some time. The flat is a mess. It’s been turned over good and proper. We’ve called SOCO and an ambulance.”
“An ambulance? Is Mr. McNally injured?”
Isabel moved to the window, looking for any sign of the paramedics. “He’s pretty badly hurt. Head injury, and I can’t stop the bleeding. We need to get him to a hospital as quickly as possible.” She glanced back at Zander, who was beside himself. “And, sir? He’s Zander’s grandfather.”
There was a long pause, during which sirens echoed from seven floors below at ground level.
“I see,” DI Holmes responded. “So it hasn’t been lots of social care by the two of you, then.”
“No, sir. And they aren’t personal visits either. He either called us in for a reason, or Zander goes out of hours. So I was thinking, I was wondering if we could handle this.”
“Zander can’t,” DI Holmes began.
“Not we as in me and him,” she explained. “But we as in our unit. It’s not a murder, I realised that, but could you send someone over to make sure SOCO does it right? Dot the I’s and cross the T’s? I know we’re busy, but this is family.”