DEAD & BURIED a gripping crime thriller full of twists (4 page)

“That’s what I’m here for.” Eliza King shot Calladine a wary look. “But Costello must be left alone. For the time being anyway.”

“But why?” Calladine reiterated.

“Blunder into this and months of work will go down the tubes.” This was said with feeling.

“Will you share what you’ve got on him?”

“No. It would serve no purpose at this time.”

“So, shooting or not, he’s free to do as he pleases.”

“No. Our efforts are about to pay off, Inspector. Finally we have someone who will testify against him. Until we have all the evidence in the bag, we leave Costello well alone.”

Calladine shook his head. “The reality is, you have nothing. You’re here on a wild goose chase.” He could scarcely believe what he was hearing. “Why do you think anyone would forfeit their life to help the police?”

“Costello is losing his grip. Something has happened to shake things up.”

“Want to elaborate?”

“No. Perhaps a little further down the line.”

Calladine suspected she had no idea. She was here on a fishing trip.

“If he’s operating in Yorkshire, why are you chasing an informant in our neck of the woods?”

“Because this is where he lives,” she told him patiently.

“There you have it, Calladine. The Hobfield connection.”

“I’m still not sure, ma’am. I’m curious why someone from Leesdon would contact the Yorkshire force to squeal about Costello. Did McCabe enlighten you?”

Eliza King was still angry. “All you need to know is that we have an opportunity to get him. You don’t want to be the detective who puts a spoke in that particular wheel, do you? Where the informant comes from is totally irrelevant.”

Calladine tried another tack. “You have to trust us. You will need help. At the very least Costello or one of his people was witness to a shooting today.”

She turned towards him, her expression hard. “I know he’s a villain. The bastard kills people. He ruins lives.” Now there was hatred in her dark eyes. “No one wants him locked up more than I do.”

That look spoke volumes. “This is personal, isn’t it?” Calladine looked at Birch. Surely she must see it too? “Personal means mistakes. What is it between you and Costello?”

“Now you’re being dramatic, Inspector,” Birch intervened with a half-smile.

“You’re here because your little project is in danger of failing, isn’t it? You have a problem.” He was guessing. Eliza King’s face remained impassive. “That’s what’s really pissed you off. That’s what’s brought you here. Someone’s stopped playing ball.”

“This isn’t a game, Inspector,” she snapped back. “You can sit there and make up fairy tales all day. But I won’t tell you any more than I already have. The informant makes contact through me. You have to back off.”

“Look at the Fallon case,” said Calladine. “You have heard of Ray Fallon, I take it?”

She nodded.

“That was meticulously planned. An informant determined to give evidence was put into witness protection. But Fallon found out and had the poor bugger killed.” Eliza King said nothing. “Costello will be aware of every move you make. God help anyone you rope into this because if Costello is anything like Fallon then you’ll never even get close.”

Eliza King gave him a filthy look. “We don’t do things that way. My force has done its homework. We’ve kept this operation tight. I was transferred to Daneside specifically to wind this up.”

She’s shown her hand, thought Calladine.

“Not the murder, then? You are looking for someone on our patch.”

“I can’t say.”

“Does the poor sod know you’re coming for him?”

She nodded. “Arrangements have been made. Our informant will be in witness protection very soon.”

“So where is he now? Wandering the streets of Leesdon, jumping out of his skin at every shadow?” He could see that Birch was wrestling with her temper. She was as disturbed as he was by what Eliza King was telling them.

“Will you need help?” Birch asked her.

“If I do, I’ll ask. Superintendent McCabe promised me your full cooperation.”

“There is still the shooting to clear up.”

“DI Calladine is right,” said Birch. “I still think someone should be interviewed about that.” Birch met the DCI’s gaze. “Costello will think it odd if he is not approached. It was definitely his car on that estate this afternoon.”

Eliza King seemed to be considering this. “One of his people, Gavin Trent,” she said, handing Birch a card. “He rang me a while ago. Costello was interviewed after a robbery and wanted to sue for harassment. We sorted things out. He seems like a reasonable guy. Ring him and he’ll set things up. But if he spins you a yarn then accept it — for now.” She turned to Calladine. “Speak to him only about the shooting, nothing else. Do you understand?”

And Eliza King walked out of the room.

Calladine looked at Birch and exhaled. “A force to be reckoned with, that one.”

“I’m just as much in the dark as you are,” Birch said. “But she’s only with us until the end of this week, so I’ve been told.”

That was a relief. It meant she wouldn’t be on their backs for long. “The Emily Blackwell case has to be our priority, ma’am, followed by the shooting. I was on the Hobfield speaking to the victim’s son when Wayne Davey was shot. Despite what that harridan out there thinks, Costello has to be approached. We will speak to everyone who was out and about on the estate at that time. His car was parked in full view. There is no way we can ignore that.”

“I agree . . . but please don’t refer to her as a ‘harridan.’ She is a DCI and therefore your senior. Grit your teeth and give her at least a modicum of respect.”

But Birch was smiling.

He smiled back. “Softly-softly it is.”

Chapter 5

“You’re going to need somewhere to work.”

Eliza King was pacing the corridor, deep in conversation on her mobile phone. He smiled. “Currently we have a spare desk in the incident room.”

Pocketing her phone she followed him in.

“It won’t do. The stuff I’m working on is . . . sensitive. I need a space of my own. Who’s in there?” She nodded towards the door of Calladine’s office.

“Me.”

She put her hand on the back of Ruth’s chair. “The empty desk here?”

“Sergeant Bayliss is on maternity leave,” Joyce told her.

“There you are then — sorted. You can take this desk for now, DI Calladine, and I’ll have your office. It won’t be for long.”

Calladine opened his mouth.

“I’ve brought my own laptop. Tell your techie people I’ll need to connect to your network,” she said to Joyce. “And if there’s a cup of tea going, I wouldn’t say no. I’ll be at my desk.”

“Is she going to call the shots on the Blackwell case now, sir?” Rocco asked.

“Officially she is,” Calladine replied. “But whatever she gets up to it won’t impinge on what we do.”

There was a general sigh of relief.

“I want more background on Emily,” he told the team. Calladine was trying to concentrate on the incident board and its scant information but he couldn’t get Eliza King out of his head. He thought he’d worked out how she’d made DCI so young. She’d clawed her way up, kicking all rivals in the teeth as she went. He found himself smiling. She was some tough cookie. Nevertheless, she was a problem they could do without. She’d said she suspected a connection between Emily and Costello. Calladine couldn’t think what, but it gave them something else to think about.

“Rocco and I went round and spoke to her sister. I don’t know about you, Rocco, but I got the impression Enid Mason was being evasive.”

Rocco nodded.

“There’s a story there and I think it has something to do with Emily’s ex-husband. And that money she got paid each month. We need to get the background on that.”

“I’ll do some digging on the system,” Imogen volunteered.

“Her ex is Ken Blackwell. Rocco and I will go back to the Hobfield, make our presence felt.” He checked his watch. “It’s gone seven now, so it’ll be tomorrow. We’ll take a couple of uniforms. I’ll talk to anyone who knew Wayne Davey — Kayne Archer in particular. Rocco, you speak to Emily’s neighbours. Find out what you can about her private life. Imogen, speak to her employers. Try and find out who her friends were. We need to know why she went up Clough Hill and who with.”

“I’m still trying to find out about that woman, Mrs Mallon, who bid for the cottage. She’s a bit of a mystery. I know she didn’t buy it but she tried hard enough.”

“Talk to the auctioneers again. They should have her details. For now we’ll call it a day. Rocco, I’ll meet you outside the Hobfield community centre at eight tomorrow morning.”

Joyce handed him a scrap of paper. “Message for you, sir, from Ruth.”

“Urgent . . . I’d better drop by on my way home.”

* * *

Ruth Bayliss flopped back onto her sofa. “If I don’t get some sleep soon, I’ll go mad,” she groaned. “All he does is cry. I’ll swear he can cry round the clock. Jake’s impervious, he can sleep through anything, but not me. Every little whinge and I’m wide awake.”

“He’s cute though, isn’t he?” Tom Calladine was watching the wriggly bundle on Ruth’s rug.

“Oh he’s cute alright, but the lungs on him! I was under the impression that babies slept all the time. I mean, how are you supposed to know? I’ve got no idea what to do. It’s not as if they come with a ‘quick start’ guide or anything.”

“Why not get him ready, stick him in his pram and I’ll take him for a walk. I’m told I could do with the exercise and you can get your head down for an hour.”

She grinned. “You are looking a bit out of condition. Too many pies.”

He threw a cushion at her. “You’ve got some cheek!”

“Mind you, I’m not one to talk. I could do with getting into shape myself.”

“You’ve got an excuse.” Calladine stroked the infant’s cheek. “Rocco was telling me about a new gym in town. I might give it a go.”

“That’s not a bad idea. I might just join you. I’m ready to squeeze my lumpy bod into lycra if you will too. What d’you say? We can suffer together.”

“Okay, you’re on, but you can forget the lycra.”

Calladine was grinning as he rummaged through a pile of baby clothes. It felt like old times talking to Ruth like this. He wished he had her at his side on the case. She’d sort out the Yorkshire madam. “Will this do?” He’d found what appeared to be a padded onesie.

“Yep, perfect. Give him here.” She held out her arms. “Are you sure you’ve got time for this? Haven’t you got work to do?”

“It’s piling up. One murder and a shooting on the Hobfield, and that’s just today.”

Ruth started to dress her son. “We haven’t had one of those since Richard Pope. What’s going on?”

“I’m not sure. But the name Costello is being bandied about.”

Ruth frowned. “Vinny Costello?”

Calladine nodded.

“That is bad news. We don’t want him running the Hobfield.”

“I’m not sure he is. But something is going on.”

“You can always pop round and run stuff past me. I feel so out of things, stuck at home.”

“I might just do that. I’m going to need a sounding board. We’ve had a DCI from Daneside or the Yorkshire force thrust on us. One Eliza King. Proper handful she’s shaping up to be. Easily irritated and doesn’t want to share information. What are we supposed to do with that?”

“I’ll remind you of those words when you get the hots for her.”

“That won’t happen. For starters she’s only a child.”

“Come off it, she’s a DCI.”

“Well, she looks like a child, a damn scruffy one too.”

“Daneside, you said?”

“Officially she’s from Yorkshire on secondment to Daneside, and now with us. I know what this is, can’t kid me. No one can cope with the little madam. So they hand her around like pass the parcel.”

“Why do you need another DCI?”

“We don’t. She’s here on a mission of her own, something to do with Costello. Eliza King thinks she’s going to bring him in.”

“Does she know who she’s dealing with, Tom? You have warned her?”

He shrugged. “I have done my best, but she’s not the type to listen.”

“Costello has been quiet for a long time. What is it she’s got on him?”

“An informant — who
might
be persuaded to give evidence.”

“She needs to watch her step.”

“Too bloody true she does.”

Ruth changed the subject. “We’ve decided to have him christened. Harry John Ireson will be baptised at Leesworth Parish church this Sunday. That’s what was urgent and why I rang the nick. I would have given you more notice but you’re a devil to contact, Tom Calladine.”

“Does that mean I’m invited?”

“Of course you are. But not only that. Jake and I would like you to be Harry’s godfather.”

Calladine was touched. “I’ve never been a godfather before. Are you sure I won’t make a mess of it?”

“You’ll be fine.” She chuckled. “Even you can do it. It’s easy. You come to the service in your best suit and you repeat a few lines the vicar will tell you, and that’s it. There will be a bit of a bash after. At the Wheatsheaf in town, in their function room at the back.”

“Who else is coming?”

“The world and his wife, Tom. Family, friends and I’ve asked our crowd from work, plus Doc Hoyle and some folk from the Duggan. But you could do with a plus-one.”

“Who do you suggest? I was seeing Tasha Barrington but I don’t think she’s keen.”

“You can ask Eve,” Ruth told him firmly. “She’ll be pleased, and I was going to ask her anyway.”

“She’s my mother. Won’t be much fun, will it?”

“It’s a christening. It’s not meant to be
fun
. Only joking!” Ruth smiled.

“There we are, baby boy. All ready.” She laid him in his pram and wheeled it over to Calladine. “Thanks for this, Tom. I really appreciate it. With a bit of luck Jake will be home when you get back. If he is, just hand him over. I’ll probably still be asleep.” And she yawned. “Here’s your official invitation. The vicar wants us to have a practice before Sunday, so I’ll let you know.”

“Come on then, young master Ireson. Let’s give Leesdon Park a whirl.”

Pushing a pram was a new experience for Calladine. His daughter Zoe had been brought up by her mother in Bristol and he’d missed all the childhood stuff with her. It was about seven thirty in the evening but at this time of year the nights were long and light. He wandered down Leesdon High Street, making for the park, when he almost bumped into Eliza King coming out of the supermarket.

“Yours?” she asked doubtfully, peering into the pram.

“No. He belongs to my sergeant, Ruth Bayliss. I’m giving her a break.”

She gave him an odd look.

“Have you found somewhere to stay?” he asked.

“Yes. The pub further down.” She gestured to the Wheatsheaf.

“It’s a bit rough there. You won’t get much peace and quiet.”

“Just as well I don’t sleep much then, isn’t it?”

She had an answer for everything.

She was clutching a packet of crisps and a bottle of cola.

“Is that your tea?” he asked.

“I don’t go a bundle on healthy eating. Work’s so full on, I’m usually too busy. Is there anything else you’d like to know, Inspector, before I crack on?”

Keep out of my business and leave me alone.
It came through in everything she said.

“I was just being friendly,” he said.

“Well, you’d be better off making friends with someone else. I don’t do friends. They take up too much time.”

“Shame. This is a friendly town. The team are an okay bunch too. We should try to get on. We are working together.”

“No we are not. I’m here on a case that has to do with the Daneside and Yorkshire forces. I’d appreciate you keeping out of it.”

“That’s me told,” he said.

“Look, I don’t mean to come across as a narky bitch. It’s just how I am. You can take it or leave it. I come to work to do exactly that — work. I don’t intend to stay round here long and I’m not interested in making friends. Polite conversation is frankly boring and I’ve got a report to write tonight. So if you don’t mind, I’ll let you get on with your stroll.”

* * *

Eliza King knew that if she wasn’t careful DI Calladine would be all over her case like a rash. He was as keen on putting Costello away as she was. But she wasn’t going to let that happen. This particular criminal was her catch.

He’d been right about the pub, though. It was a dump. The room they’d given her was straight out of the seventies. Even two floors up, she could still hear the music and the shouting coming from the bar.

She took her phone and tapped in a number. “Becca? You okay, love? How did you get on?”

“Difficult, Mum, and I was a bag of nerves. I don’t like exams and this was GCSE maths. It was hard.”

“You’ll have done alright, you always do. Look at the marks you got in the mocks, they were brilliant. How’s your sister?”

There was a silence.

“She’s gone out with him again — Harvey,” Rebecca King finally admitted. “There was nothing I could do to stop her. She was being a right cow.”

Eliza’s heart sank. “It’s not your fault. Did he come round? Jade didn’t let him into my house, did she?”

“No. He rang her and arranged to meet. She’s hardly been home at all. It was four this morning when she got back from last night. She stunk of booze and hardly said two words to me. I think Jade’s drinking too much. She said I wasn’t to tell you. Before she left tonight, she gave me a tenner and made me promise to keep my mouth shut.”

“She never learns,” Eliza said bitterly. She was angry. This was the first time she’d left her daughters. It wasn’t something she’d do ordinarily, but the Costello case was so important she’d had no choice. She’d made her eldest daughter, Jade, promise to stay at home. She was almost nineteen and Eliza was relying on her. It was obviously asking too much. Where Harvey Evans was concerned, the girl was blind.

Jade simply didn’t understand how important her mother’s work was. Eliza was a single parent and it was her work that fed and clothed them all. She’d had her daughters young. She was thirty-eight years old but looked much younger. All she asked was that Jade meet her halfway and do as Eliza asked when it mattered.

“When are you coming home?”

“I won’t be back until the weekend. Becca, you can’t stay in the house on your own. If Jade doesn’t come home within the next hour, get Alison to stay over.” Alison was the daughter of a neighbour and Becca’s friend. “I’ll ring Jade and see what she’s playing at. If I don’t get anywhere with her, you’ll have to go to Auntie Sarah’s. I’m sorry, love. You shouldn’t have to cope with this on top of the exams.”