“No, she damn well isn’t, and isn’t likely to be if I have anything to do with it.”
Janine Felton lit a cigarette and swore under her breath.
“My mum wants to keep her. It’s nice where she is, by the sea.
Cassie is fond of her.” Janine handed Imogen a scrap of paper with an address on it. “I have no problem with Cassie being with my mum—so that’s that. Not a bloody thing you can do about it.”
Imogen rang the station. A quick conversation with Joyce, and the Scarborough police would give the grandmother a visit. So that was it: an argument about custody. Imogen decided they should return to the station and confirm what Janine had told them. She’d tell Social Services too. But what to do about the Rigbys? Perhaps that’d be better left for the experts to sort out.
“Resolved,” Rocco announced with a shake of his head. “I’m going to ring the boss and tell him the kid’s safe—it’ll make his day. Then can we get out of here, please? I hate this place.”
Imogen would ring WPC Kate Robinson and get her to pass the news to the Rigbys. That was going to be a tricky conversation.
Imogen knew she couldn’t promise them anything. Robert Rigby had paid for a child. He’d lied to his wife and Social Services had been kept completely out of the loop. There would be repercussions, she felt sure.
* * *
“Sir, we’ve found Cassie Rigby. She’s in Scarborough with her maternal grandmother and quite safe. So no harm done.”
Calladine had dozed off on his sofa and woke with a start when his mobile rang. The news was good, very good, the best in fact.
The last thing he wanted was the Cassie Rigby thing to drag on, or become something worse. Now they could put all their efforts into finding whoever had murdered that girl.
He rubbed his head and winced—it ached. He was beginning to wonder how long he could keep this up—the late nights, no proper sleep and the stress. He looked around; there was no sign of Zoe either. Another night away from home. What was going on? Had she met someone?
He was about to phone her when his mobile rang again. This time it was Doc Hoyle.
“Sorry to ring you at home, Tom. But it is important. We’ve got another nasty one. The body of a young woman was left in the back of a hearse at the undertakers this evening.”
Just what he needed. The sound of those words echoed through his aching head, making his stomach churn.
“Okay, I’ll come down. Are there any similarities with the murder of the other girl?”
“Early days, but yes, I’d say so. There was the same sort of stuff with the teeth. But you should know—this one’s been dead a lot longer. She’s quite badly decomposed.”
Was their man running scared? Why dump the body now? And where the hell had she been kept? He rubbed his aching head again. “The undertakers in Leesdon, you said?”
“Yes. There was no coffin in the hearse at the time, so she was simply slid in, wrapped in a blanket.”
“Give me twenty minutes and I’ll be with you.”
* * *
Calladine decided this was one he could do on his own—Ruth needed the downtime. There wasn’t really much to see anyway. The back of the hearse was open and Doc Hoyle was leaning inside.
“She’s been wrapped in a blanket and for some time, I’d say.
The smell is bad. It’s my guess she was buried and then dug up a few days ago. She’s been kept somewhere reasonably warm—there are maggots.”
“There’s a camera up there.” Calladine nodded, pointing the thing out for Julian, who’d joined them.
“I’ll get on it, Inspector.” Julian wrinkled his nose at the smell of decomposition. “I’ll have the vehicle checked—fingerprints, soil and shoe tracks left on the path—the lot.”
“For now we’ll take the photos of the body as we found it and I’ll start the PM at eight in the morning,” the doctor decided. “It won’t be pretty, Tom—just warning you.”
* * *
On his return home, Calladine rang Ruth and arranged to meet her at the mortuary early the next morning. He could hear music in the background and a male voice talking—Jake Ireson he presumed. He’d been right not to have her come with him.
Hopefully she was making progress. He’d had every intention of speaking to Monika earlier but had fallen asleep instead, and now this. He no longer had the energy. Damping down the fire, he put his empty whiskey glass in the kitchen sink, and went to bed.
* * *
But Ruth and Jake hadn’t been talking—they’d been arguing. It had started innocently enough with a simple question – did she want to go visit his parents at the weekend? Ruth’s stomach had flipped—she was going to have to disappoint him yet again. Jake’s parents lived in Whitby.
“We’ve a lot on—two murders and a missing child case to clear up.” She shook her head.
“So when do I get a look in? If you’re not working, then you’re messing about with that birdwatching group of yours. He rang earlier, Reg thingy.”
“Reg Hope, and wind your neck in. If I didn’t know better I’d say you were jealous. Reg is sixty-two and retired. He’s a friend; he takes photographs of birds and sticks them on his blog. He’s great fun and I like him. So get off my back!”
“And me? Do you think I’m great fun?”
She turned to look at him. What did she think? Fun? Definitely not, of late. But she did like him, and that was the problem.
“When things get slacker—which they will,” she reassured him,
“we’ll go and see your parents. It won’t be long. Just let us get this case wrapped up.”
He was sat in his shirt sleeves by the fire, marking exercise books. He shook his head and tutted.
“Are you growing a beard?” She tried to change the subject.
“It’s for the play. The sixth form are putting on Macbeth, and they want me in it.”
“You love it, don’t you?” Ruth said, punching his arm playfully. “I bet all those teenage girls have a right crush on the dishy Mr Ireson.”
“I know what you’re trying to do, and it won’t work. We need to spend more time together, or this relationship is doomed. You said so yourself; even your boss has history.”
“This has nothing to do with Tom, it’s all me. You have to understand, Jake, I am my job. It’s my life. It’s what I do.” She was on the verge of tears. He had to understand. She was not about to give it up, not even for him. She still had ambition: Ruth wanted to make inspector before she reached forty.
“So you rule out everything else, even me?” He stood up. “Well I’m sick of it, Ruth. I don’t think this relationship is going anywhere, and I’m in no mood to piss about. I thought we had something. You thought that too, at one time. So what happened?”
“Nothing, Jake, nothing happened. It’s just my job.”
At that moment the phone rang, and casting an apologetic glance his way, Ruth answered it.
From the tone of her voice, and what she was saying, Jake knew it was Calladine. He grabbed his books and stormed off upstairs to the study.
Chapter 9
Day Four
As he met Ruth at the mortuary door, Calladine apologised. “Hope I didn’t interrupt anything last night. I heard Jake’s voice in the background. Did it go well?”
“Sort of, but I still can’t decide what to do about my love life.”
“You and me both.” He tried to joke, but the truth was, the Monika problem wasn’t funny—not in the least. What with her and the case, his mind was constantly active. He’d tossed and turned most of the night, and the repercussions were making themselves felt.
“You need to get it fixed, Tom. It’s all very well giving me advice, but you need to take a good long look at your own life.
You’re weary. It shows on your face. It’s all taking its toll. If you’re not careful the job will get the better of you, and then where will we all be?”