by Clare Revell
Zander rose and walked across the room. Could the bloke be any slower? “What?”
She shoved the framed picture under his nose. “It’s the Guv and his wife. And she’s wearing the necklace mentioned in the tip line call. She has to be the next victim.”
Zander’s stance changed in an instant. “Call the Guv now. I’ll organise a uniform patrol to sit outside his house until further notice. Also, an officer on his wife and the school his niece goes to.”
“On it.” Isabel picked up the phone and rang the Guv.
“This is DI Holmes. I can’t answer the phone right now. Please leave a message.”
Darn it. She didn’t want voicemail. “Guv, it’s Isabel. Call me. It’s urgent.” She hung up and looked over at Zander in the main office. “Voicemail.”
“No answer from the house phone either.”
Isabel scrunched up her nose. “He said he was out with the Sarge this morning. I’ll try him.” She dialled again.
“Philips.” This time the call answered on the second ring.
“Sarge, it’s Isabel. Is the Guv with you? Because he’s not answering his phone, and I need to talk to him.”
“Yeah, he’s interviewing right now. He’ll call you back.”
“No, Sarge. It’s urgent I speak with him now.” She paused. “It’s to do with the Slayer.”
“One second. Nate, Isabel needs a word. She says it’s urgent and Slayer related. She sounds rattled.”
There was a brief rustle and then the DI’s irate voice came on the line. “What’s up?”
“When was the last time you saw your wife, sir?”
He groaned. “You seriously interrupted me for this? I saw her at breakfast. Why?”
“And you live at Fifteen Hunter’s Green?”
“Yes. I really don’t have time for twenty questions. Get to the point.”
Isabel drew in a deep breath. “We got another call on the tip line about the necklaces. The one he described matches the one your wife is wearing in the photograph on your desk. She’s on the list, sir. We tried ringing, but she’s not answering the phone.”
There was a slight pause on the line. “She’s deaf, but she’ll be at work. Get a car over to the Datura Doll Hospital. That’s where she’ll be. I’ll call her mobile. It’s been specially adapted.”
“We’ll do that…” The line went dead.
Zander looked at her. “You do know she’s blonde, and all the other victims have dark hair like you, right?”
“Actually Esther Leaney dyed her hair fairly recently. It was in the autopsy report. So did Ashlyn Oakley. Maybe the Guv’s wife dyes her hair blonde.” She grinned. “I’ve done mine red before now. Bright red. And orange.”
“We need to go swing by the house. Check it out.”
She shook her head. “The Guv said she’d be at work. At a doll’s hospital, wherever that is.”
“I know it. It’s on the High Street. Let’s run.”
~*~
Datura Doll Hospital was locked up when they arrived. The sign on the door said ‘Closed’ and all the lights were out. Zander pulled out his phone. He speed dialled DI Holmes, speaking as soon as the call picked up. “Guv, is your wife with you?”
“No. Like I told Isabel, she’s at work.”
“We’ve just arrived. The place is locked up and there’s no response to our knocking. Want me to break in?”
A sharp hiss echoed down the line. “Wait there. I have a key.”
“What if she’s—”
“I said wait! We’re two minutes away.” The line went dead.
Zander shoved the phone back into his pocket. “Never known the Guv to be this frantic.”
“Can’t blame him. Like you weren’t the past couple of days.”
A car screeched to a halt behind Zander’s. DI Holmes leapt out, a bunch of keys in his hand. His face was pale, apprehension etched into his brow. He hurtled past them, unlocked the door and ran inside, without pausing. “Adeline! Ben!”
Zander frowned. “I thought she was deaf. And who’s Ben?”
DS Philips pulled out his mobile. “She is. Ben is the hearing dog. He tells Adeline when someone is calling her.” He punched a button and groaned as it probably went to voicemail. “Amy, it’s me. Call me back. I need to know if you’ve seen Adeline this morning. What’s the point you having a mobile if you never answer it?”
Another car pulled up. Two women and a dog climbed out.
“Dane? What are you doing here?” his pregnant wife demanded.
DS Philips ran to her side, wrapping his arms around her. “Amy! Thank the Lord you’re safe. And Adeline. Zander, go and get the Guv. Tell him they’re here.”
Zander ran inside the building. He could hear his boss still calling frantically. “Guv. Your wife is outside. She’s fine.”
DI Holmes ran past him and hugged his wife tightly.
“What’s going on?” Mrs. Philips asked. “It’s not that long since you blokes left for work.”
“Where were you?” DS Philips asked. “I’ve been calling and calling.”
“I had a midwife check-up, and Adeline took me. We dropped Scott off at the day nursery first. We’re fine. What’s going on?”
DI Holmes looked at Isabel. “That’s the Pines Day Nursery.” He told her the number. “Call them and tell them I will be picking my son up in the next twenty minutes. No one is to collect him apart from me in person.”
Isabel nodded and reached for her phone. “OK.”
DI Holmes turned back to his wife, conversing in sign language.
Mrs. Holmes shook her head. “No.”
“It’s not up for debate, Adeline. Get in the car.”
Mrs. Philips turned to her husband. “OK, now I know there is something really wrong. What is it?”
DS Philips opened the car door. “Get in, love.”
“Not until you tell me what’s going on. You can’t go all police officer on me without an explanation. You owe me that much. You also know I don’t scare easily.”
“This case we’re working—the Slayer. A tip off mentioned a necklace like the one Nate gave Adeline for her birthday. Her name is on a list he seems to be picking his victims from. This year’s New Wine week two attendees.”
“New Wine?” Mrs. Philips frowned. “Yeah, we’re both going to that. It’s been planned for months. You and Nate get the kids, including this one,” she rubbed her stomach, “and Adeline and I get a week of camping and conventioning.”
Isabel put her phone away. “Day nursery are expecting you, Guv.”
DI Holmes glanced at her. “Thank you.” He looked back at his wife. “I mean it, love. I am not losing you to this bloke. I wouldn’t do this if you weren’t in serious danger. Don’t make me beg.”
“Fine! Although it might be fun to see you on your knees begging.” Mrs. Holmes turned away. She moved over to the others. “I guess I have a babysitter, Amy. Come on, Ben. In the car.”
DI Holmes moved to stand in front of her. “You both do until this case is over,” he told her, signing at the same time. “Either protective custody or you sit in my office all day every day.”
Mrs. Philips grinned. “That sounds like fun, but we’ll do that tomorrow so the three girls can come then as well. Today this protective custody officer can help us decorate the nursery that Dane started three months ago and hasn’t finished yet.” She kissed her husband on the cheek and slid into his car.
DS Philips shook his head. “Women. Nate, I’ll take the ladies back to my house in my service car. You all right to follow in Adeline’s once you’ve collected Scott? Then we can take mine back to work once the protective services officers arrive.”
DI Holmes nodded. “Yes. I’ll ring them now.” He held his phone and eyed Zander. “Get back to the nick. You’re in charge until I get there. We may be some time.”
Zander nodded. “We’ll be fine, Guv.”
Isabel glanced at Zander as he unlocked the car, holding the door open for her.
“Remind me never to marry a cop, will you?”
He snorted. “Isabel, don’t marry a cop.”
21
Isabel was ready when Zander arrived at quarter past seven. The drive to the church didn’t take long. A uniformed car was parked out the front and inside the building were a couple of uniformed officers. She glanced at Zander. “So much for a low profile.”
He shook his head. “Ben and Nigel usually come, but not in uniform. Guess they are proving a point.”
“Hey Zander.” A tall man with dark, neat hair slid into the chair beside him.
“David.” Zander shook his hand. “Isabel, this is DS David Painter…”
“We’ve met,” Isabel said. “I used to work out of the Fleet Street nick. Nice to see you again, sir.” She shot him a smile. He was one of the few good cops who never had a bad word to say to her and treated her as an equal, despite her being uniform and a rank below him.
DS Painter smiled. “Why all the attention here tonight?”
“The Slayer sent us a postcard of the church,” Zander told him. “So we’re staking out the building. The Guv isn’t taking any chances the next few days.”
DS Painter nodded. “Well, if you need any more bodies, shout. Always happy to help a fellow officer out. I owe your Guv one.”
DI Holmes came in, not looking at all happy, with his wife by his side.
Isabel’s lips twitched. “Trouble in paradise, me thinks,” she muttered.
“You surprised?” Zander asked.
“Not really. So how do these meetings work? Because this isn’t the chapel.”
“No, and that’s because not so many people come mid-week as on a Sunday. We start with a hymn, Bible reading, short talk, and hymn, and then open the floor for prayer. Whichever pastor is leading normally opens and closes in prayer, so we know when the meeting has ended. Sometimes we close with a hymn but not always.” He leaned back in the chair. “So you know he gave us tomorrow morning off, right, as we have to work most of the night?”
Isabel nodded. “Yes…”
“And we still haven’t had that game of table tennis…”
She smirked. “Only if I win.”
He glanced at her. “Tell you what, if you win, I buy dinner before the stake out. If I win, then you buy dinner.”
“You’re on. Then afterwards we’ll go see your grandfather and Will.” She settled back in her chair as the meeting began.
An hour and a half later, she rubbed her hands over her eyes. The closing hymn had had the usual effect on her, and the tears had rolled unbidden down her cheeks.
“Are you all right?” Concern tinged Zander’s voice.
“I’m fine. That hymn always makes me cry. And singing it unaccompanied like we just did, was…” She broke off. Wow didn’t seem to sum up the joy and amazement and grief filling her.
Zander nodded. “I know. Jesus did all that for us, when we had done nothing but turn our backs and gone the opposite way. I don’t ever want to take it for granted.” He glanced at his watch. “Mind if I take you home? That way I can spend a bit of time with Mum and Grace. She decided her husband, Jonah, can cope with the kids for once, and she’s staying over as well. She goes back tomorrow afternoon.”
Isabel nodded. “That’s fine. What time do you want me in the morning?”
“I’ll pick you up at half past nine. Give you a small lie in.” He made a small gap between his index finger and thumb. “Just an ickle one. Can’t have you getting accustomed to it, now can we?”
“Probably best not…” Isabel broke off. She frowned, something Pastor Jack said echoing in her mind.
Zander raised an eyebrow. “What? I know that look. What you thinking?”
“That passage Pastor Jack spoke on. There’s something… Give me your Bible a minute.”
Zander sat down again and handed over the Bible. “Mark chapter eight. Peter’s confession of Christ.”
“Yeah, but it’s after that. Here.” She stabbed her finger at the page. “What good is it for someone to gain the whole world, yet forfeit their soul? Or what can anyone give in exchange for their soul?”
Zander frowned. “OK, where are you going with this?”
“Right now, we’re assuming that our killer is looking at this from a religious point of view.” She twisted slightly to allow someone to slide past her and out of the row. “He’s baptising and confessing them—albeit in a strange, malevolent, twisted kind of a way. What’s that saying about confession being good for the soul?”
“It’s actually an old Scottish proverb that’s misquoted. The original states that open confession is good for the soul.” His eyes widened. Had he finally seen what she had? He continued. “But confession is all over the Bible. There’s First John chapter one, verse nine for one thing.
“If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness,” he quoted.
Zander took the Bible and turned back several pages to Acts. “And everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved. And then there’s Psalm thirty-two verse five. Then I acknowledged my sin to You and did not cover up my iniquity. I said, “I will confess my transgressions to the Lord.” And You forgave the guilt of my sin.”
Isabel pointed to the Psalm in question. “But that Psalm is all about confession. It shows that not only is confession therapeutic, it’s a prerequisite for forgiveness. Jesus said it’s better to enter heaven with one hand than hell with two, right? And yes, I know He didn’t mean that literally and I’m paraphrasing, but maybe our killer doesn’t get that bit. What if he’s killing their bodies in order to keep their eternal souls safe?”
~*~
Zander picked Isabel up later than he’d planned the following morning. “I didn’t oversleep, before you say anything,” he said as he pulled away from the kerb. The grin on her face was enough to know she was preparing to get a year’s worth of teasing out of this. “I didn’t even turn my alarm off. It went off at five-thirty as normal. I went for a run. I came back and, yeah, well. I got side-tracked by the smell of bacon and eggs. Mum decided I needed feeding up. So she did a proper, full English breakfast. I may never eat again. I’d forgotten just how big her breakfasts are.”
She grinned, looking kind of cute in her non-regulation outfit. Instead of the smart suit she usually wore to work, or the pretty church dresses on a Sunday, Isabel was clad in leggings and tee-shirt, her hair tied in an extra-messy bun with a floral scarf around her head like a headband. “Does that make you too fat to run?” she teased. “Am I going to win? And don’t think that never eating again gets you out of buying me dinner tonight when I slaughter you and win five games on the trot.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “Have I told you about me and table tennis?”
“No. Do you have an unfair advantage? Just how much have you played in the past?”
Zander debated being totally honest with her and decided against. Not yet, anyway. It would be far more fun to drag this out for a bit longer first. “I’ve played a fair bit over the years,” he began relatively honestly. “Not so much recently, but at one time I played most days in one form or another.”
“So where are we going?”
“Leisure centre at Victoria Park. I booked the table for half past ten.” He paused at a road junction. “Yes, I changed the time, but they didn’t mind. I was having far too much fun with Mum’s bacon, egg, sausage, hash browns…”
She snorted. “Well, so long as you have enough cash to pay for dinner tonight, that’s fine by me.”
“You’ll need it, you mean.” He shot her a sideways glance. He had no intentions of losing, although he decided he might let her win the first game.
~*~
An hour and five games later, and in which he slaughtered her each time apart from the first which she’d won, Isabel glared at him. “OK, what’s your secret?”
Zander looked at her. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Don’t try tha
t sweet and innocent look on me, mister.” Isabel wiped her sleeve over her forehead. “Playing with you is exhausting, and you are way better than a novice or someone who hasn’t played in years ought to be. You can buy me a drink and fess up.”
“Fine. We’ll go to the inn on the park. Sit outside and enjoy some of this glorious sunshine.”
By the time they got outside, the last vestiges of sun had vanished and the promised storm that had threatened the past two days broke.
“So much for the glorious sunshine.” Isabel grinned. “Maybe we have that drink inside instead.”
Thunder drowned out Zander’s reply, but she dashed inside anyway, not wanting to get any wetter than she already was. She bought two tall glasses of orange juice and ice and sat at a table by the window.
Once he joined her, she stared at him. “So, fess up. Why are you so good at table tennis?”
Zander picked up his drink and took a long swallow. “If I tell you…”
“No if about it, mate,” she said kicking him under the table. “You’re telling me. Now.”
“Fine. When I tell you, you have to promise me that it goes no further. I don’t want anyone at work knowing about this.”
“Intriguing, Mr. Ellery.” Isabel steepeled her fingers and watched him intently in the low light. “Go on. You have my full attention.”
Zander let out a long, slow breath. “I was county table tennis champion several years running.”
“Shut up,” she said, amazed and not quite believing him.
“Seriously. I have several cups, not to mention certificates and medals to prove it.”
“Wow. I’m impressed.” She looked at him. “And you don’t want anyone to know because why?”
“Because they wouldn’t get it,” he said slowly. “It’s not like athletics or skiing or whatever. It’s something kids play at home on the dining table, using books as a net. Which admittedly is how I started. Or on a massive table in the garden as a pastime on a Sunday afternoon.”
“But county champion is impressive,” she told him. “I won’t tell anyone, but now you owe me dinner because that seriously counts as cheating.” As he opened his mouth to complain, she grinned. “And it is cheating because you had a massive unfair advantage over me. Lulling me into a false sense of security by throwing the first game as well. And you can take that smirk off your face and all.”