Dead Wrong (22 page)
“We have him now, so you’re safe. He can’t hurt you or anyone else. You have to try and relax. But you still can’t print anything — not yet. You’re going to have to wait until after the trial, Lydia.”
“Do you really think that’s all that bothers me,” she retorted wriggling away from him. “I’ve been kidnapped, strapped naked to a bench and molested by a bloody lunatic. Do you really think I want to write about that?”
Yet again he’d proved he was first class at putting his foot in it. Calladine took her hand gently. “Sorry, I’m beat and my brains not in gear. I’ll help, you can stay with me, or I’ll stay with you. I’ll take care of you. You don’t have to worry,” he assured her.
“Just as long as you don’t expect too much for a while. I know I come across as one hard-faced, feisty female but this has shaken me up. I don’t recognise the person in here, Tom,” she said tapping her head.
“If you want to go home now, then I can take you,” he offered. There was no way he could spend the night with Monika, not now.
“I’m going to have to leave you for a few minutes, that’s all. I’ve got my mother and a colleague in here too. I’ll take a statement tomorrow. You can get it all out. I’ll be your sounding board.”
He hugged her and then left to find his mother. What was happening to him? Lydia Holden had got to him in a way he didn’t recognise. She’d been hurt and he wanted to protect her. It was a feeling he’d not had about anything or anyone for quite a while.
His phone rang. It was Imogen again.
“Sir, he had Mash at the farm. He’s dead I’m afraid, and Doctor Hoyle’s lot have taken him. Uniform will tell his mum shortly, but not the detail; that’s too ghastly. Julian says to tell you he’s taken a whole load of tools from the cellar. He’s going to test them against the slivers of metal found on the other bodies.”
Everything falling into place then. That was a relief. There’d be no chance of him wriggling off the hook in court.
* * *
Freda Calladine was very poorly. She was in a side room of a medical ward. She was sleeping, struggling for each breath. He’d been told it was her legs, so why was she so ill? There was a young woman sitting beside her, someone he’d not seen before. Calladine said hello, presuming she was from the home.
“How’s she doing?”
“They say she has a bad chest infection. The antibiotics aren’t working properly, and they seem a bit dubious about the outcome, to be honest.”
This was all he needed. “No one rang me,” he said lamely. Not that he could have done much, given the pace of today. “Is Monika coming in?”
“Who?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I thought you were from the home, here to keep an eye on her.”
“No, I’m not, but I’m happy to stay with her for a bit if you’re busy.”
If she wasn’t from the home, and she certainly wasn’t dressed like a nurse, who was she?
“Are you some sort of volunteer visitor?”
She laughed at this and shook her head.
“You’re her son, aren’t you?”
Calladine nodded.
“I thought you might be. You are exactly as Freda described.” She laughed. “This is going to come as a bit of a shock,” she paused, “We’ve not met before, and that’s not your fault or mine. I’m here because Freda is family: she’s my granny.”
He wondered at first if he’d heard her right. How could that be? In order for that to be so, he’d have to have a
daughter
!
“I’m not making myself very clear,” she apologised. “I should have said straight away. I was hoping to do this differently but Granny being so ill put paid to that. I’m sorry, but I don’t know how to put this.” She looked at the inspector and then got to her feet and held out her hand.
“I’m Zoe — Zoe Calladine.”
He blinked.
Zoe Calladine?
More confusion, and after the day he’d just had, he wasn’t up to working it out.
“I’m Rachael’s daughter. Rachael Calladine — your ex-wife.”
Now he really was confused. Rachael had had a child but why keep his name?
“I’m still not making myself very clear, am I?” She paused, “This is going to come as a huge surprise, but you’re my father.”
Calladine blinked then stared at her. Was this some sort of wind-up? Who was this girl and why spin him a tale like this?
“I’m afraid Mum wasn’t altogether honest with you all those years ago. She kept me to herself. When she went off to Bristol she was a few weeks pregnant. When I was born, she’d begun a new life so she never told you.”
Now that did sound like Rachael. He’d listened to his mother’s ramblings all week, but he’d not taken her seriously. As far as he knew Rachael and he had never had a child. No, of that he was certain. It hadn’t been that bad a day!
“My mum was pregnant when you split up,” Zoe explained again, seeing the confusion on his face. “She had no idea at the time you separated, and when she found out, she had a new life and didn’t want the complication of having you involved. Not my words — hers,” Zoe insisted. “She only told me the truth recently.”
“Why on earth didn’t she tell me? I don’t understand . . . I could have helped. I could have supported you both.”
“She didn’t want that. She always said that it had to be a clean break. So, baby or not, she didn’t want you to know. She told me about the break-up; you were never a secret. In fact there was a photo of you kept on the sideboard at home. It’s just that she lied; she told me that you’d had an affair with another woman and you didn’t want her or me. She also told me that you weren’t interested in getting to know me.”
“That’s certainly not true. There was never another woman, not then. It was the job. I’m sorry, Zoe.” He shook his head. “This is a huge shock. I’d no idea, not even a suspicion. If I’d known about you, I’d have been there straight away. This is a lot to take in,” he said, rubbing his aching head. “How could she do this? Keep you secret all this time?”
Was she telling him the truth? Was this young woman really who she said she was. But if she wasn’t, why lie — what could she possibly hope to gain?
Zoe smiled and sat down again. “It doesn’t surprise me. She was like that. She cut all ties with you and with this place. She never came back, not once. My mum left, and that was that. She got on with things, and she raised me. She studied and got a good job. She did very well. I’m proud of her.”
“Has she come with you? What does she think of you coming here and making yourself known to me finally?”
“She wouldn’t approve, but it doesn’t matter because she’ll never know now.”
The words didn’t sink in — it was all too much and his brain was reeling. First Lydia, now this. Add to the mix a bent cop, his sick mother, plus the Monika problem, and it’d been one helluva day.
“Shouldn’t you phone her or something?”
“I can’t. You see my mum — Rachael — died three months ago.”
Calladine sank onto the edge of his mother’s bed. Rachael dead. For heaven’s sake, she was the same age as he was. He felt as if someone had just kicked him in the guts. He might not have seen her in years, but they had been married, been in love, at one time.
“Cancer. She had all the treatment, but it came back. There was nothing else they could do in the end.”
“I am so sorry.” He felt like weeping. She had been a big part of his life back then. Now he realised that she’d played an even bigger part than he’d known. She’d given him a daughter.
“I have no one in Bristol; a few friends but no family. So here I am.” She smiled. “Mum finally told me the truth about you, so I thought I’d come and seek you out. I found granny first, and was building up the courage to meet you.”
“You shouldn’t worry about me, Zoe, I’m a pussycat. Where are you staying?”
“At a pub on Leesdon High Street.”
“The Wheatsheaf?”
She nodded.
“I live just off the High Street.” He took one of his personal cards out of his wallet. “I’ve got two spare bedrooms, so why not come and stay with me?”
“Well . . . you might be my biological father, but I don’t know you.”
“I’m OK, believe me,” he said wearily. “I’m a boring old fart of a detective inspector with the local police. I work a lot and I apprehend thieves and murderers. What else is there to know?”
She smiled. “Okay — perhaps in time, but for now I’ll stay put. I’m going to sit with Granny for a while tonight, anyway. She really isn’t well and the doctor said she wasn’t responding to the medication.”
Calladine bent over and looked at his aged mother. She was struggling for every breath. That wasn’t good.
“I’ll meet up with you tomorrow,” Zoe suggested. “We can talk and get to know each other a bit better.”
“Okay — if that’s what you want.”
A daughter. He liked the idea very much. She seemed nice, and she looked a lot like Rachael too. If things weren’t so bloody grim he might even crack a smile.
It was his mother that was going to be the problem now. She looked ghastly — so pale and haggard. He patted her hand. He’d have to go. He had to find out where Ruth was, and see what had happened to their man. God. What was he going to tell the team? How was he going to explain that Dodgy was
Handy Man
— the murdering bastard they’d been searching for all week?
Ruth walked towards him along the corridor.
“He’s sedated, sir. That was some bang on the head Lydia gave him. Anyway, we can’t do anything tonight. If he’s well enough, he’ll be transferred to the cells tomorrow. We can speak to him then.”
“Which room?”
“End of the corridor. There’s a uniform with him.”
Calladine strode down and knocked on the door. A uniformed constable opened it, and the inspector flashed his warrant card. He wanted to see him, to look at him. What for, he couldn’t fathom. But seeing the truth behind the façade that had been Dodgy might help him to make sense of it.
The young man was hardly moving. He looked so still, so peaceful. He looked like Dodgy; young and vulnerable. Calladine had to remind himself who he really was.
“Time to go, sir.” Ruth stuck her head around the door.
“That suits me. I could do with getting home but I’m needed here.”
“Not coming to the pub for a celebratory drink? End of case, successful collar?”
“I can’t. There’s Lydia and it appears that I have a daughter.”
“A daughter?” Ruth’s eyes widened in surprise. “How did that happen — and who with?’
“With Rachael of course; my ex-wife. All those years ago when she left me, she was pregnant.”
“Is she here? Your daughter, I mean.”
“Yes. She’s here tonight, visiting mum. We’re going to talk tomorrow, then she might even agree to come and stay with me for a while.”
“Well congratulations, Tom. I’m happy for you.”
“It’s about the only thing I’ve got to smile about right now,” he admitted. “She’s called Zoe, and she’s lovely.”
“Rocco’s doing okay. He’ll be out in a few days. Lydia?”
“She’s in a bad way — mentally — I think. The bastard kept her tied up naked. She’s traumatised, but she’s a hard nut and she’ll eventually bounce back.”
“I’m going to get off then, sir. See you tomorrow at the nick.”
A quick wave and she was gone. Calladine couldn’t stay at Monika’s now. He retrieved the present from his overcoat pocket — he’d drop it off at the care home and apologise. He had the perfect excuse for his absence. There was no way he could leave Lydia alone while she was still so traumatised. He wouldn’t use that as his excuse to Monika though — he’d use his mother’s condition.
He needed a quick breather before returning to Lydia. He inhaled the fresh night air and looked up at the sky. It was clear now and the moon was full and bright. Tomorrow would be cold. But then tomorrow was another day.
THE END
Glossary of English Slang for US readers
Charity Shop:
thrift store
Carrier bag:
plastic bag from supermarket
Comprehensive School (Comp.):
High school
Deck:
one of the landings on a floor of a tower block
DI:
detective inspector
DS:
detective sergeant
ED:
accident and emergency department of hospital
Estate:
/files/06/20/35/f062035/public/social housing estate (like housing projects)
Fag:
cigarette
GP:
general practitioner, a doctor based in the community
Home:
care home for elderly or sick people
Inne:
isn’t he
Into care:
a child taken away from their family by the social services
the Nick:
police station (as verb: to arrest)
Nowt:
nothing
Nutter:
insane person
PC:
police constable
Scroat:
low-life
Sweeting:
endearment, like sweetheart
Tower block:
tall building containing apartments (usually social housing)
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