DEAD SORRY a totally addictive crime thriller with a huge twist (Calladine & Bayliss Mystery Book 11) Read online

  DEAD

  SORRY

  A totally addictive crime thriller with a huge twist

  HELEN H. DURRANT

  DI Calladine & DS Bayliss Book 11

  Joffe Books, London

  www.joffebooks.com

  First published in Great Britain 2021

  © Helen H. Durrant 2021

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental. The spelling used is British English except where fidelity to the author’s rendering of accent or dialect supersedes this. The right of Helen H. Durrant to be identified as author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

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  ISBN: 978-1-78931-830-2

  CONTENTS

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Chapter Thirty-six

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-one

  Chapter Forty-two

  Chapter Forty-three

  Chapter Forty-four

  Chapter Forty-five

  Chapter Forty-six

  Chapter Forty-seven

  Chapter Forty-eight

  Chapter Forty-nine

  Chapter Fifty

  Chapter Fifty-one

  Chapter Fifty-two

  Chapter Fifty-three

  Chapter Fifty-four

  Chapter Fifty-five

  Chapter Fifty-six

  Chapter Fifty-seven

  Chapter Fifty-eight

  Chapter Fifty-nine

  Epilogue

  ALSO BY HELEN H. DURRANT

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  Prologue

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  Twenty-five years ago

  It was her own fault. She should have made some excuse, told them not to come. But she hadn’t, and now she was paying the price.

  Make friends, her granny said, invite a few classmates back after school, try and fit in. But she doesn’t fit, does she, and that’s the problem. Millie is different from them. She doesn’t swear or drink, and she works hard at school. So they point and sneer and call her “teacher’s pet”. Little do they know.

  Jade, the ringleader, grabs her round the throat. Millie pushes her hand away and steps back. The girl merely grins. “What d’you keep in that shed thing outside?”

  “It’s not a shed, it was my granddad’s workshop.” Millie is terrified. She knows this will have a bad outcome.

  “Show me.”

  Jade grabs her hair and yanks her towards the back door. “I’m after tools Johnno can sell. He makes a bob or two and we’ll have a good night.”

  As Millie knows, Jade lives with her druggie mother in a hovel of a flat on the Hobfield, and Johnno is a dealer. “There’s . . . there’s not much,” she says.

  “Better be something worth the effort or you’ll suffer.” Jade beckons the others to follow. “You’re full of shit, d’you know that? A weirdo who needs a lesson in manners. What d’you reckon, Kaz? Should we have some fun, show her who’s boss?”

  Kaz says nothing. She and a third girl, Sarah, just follow in Jade’s wake, their faces still buried in a magazine Kaz had found in the sitting room.

  “Look, you should go. My granny’s back soon, and this is just a waste of time,” Millie says as they cross the yard.

  “Shut it!” Jade says.

  They enter the shed and Jade flicks the light on. “Right. Power tools — what’ve you got?”

  “I told you, nothing.”

  Jade picks up a drill from the bench. “Lying bitch. That’ll cost you,” she says, spitting out the words. “Johnno’ll get a few quid for this beauty for a start.” She tosses the thing over to Sarah. “I’ll take this, too.” She hefts a metal box containing an assortment of tools. “You lied, Millie, and I hate liars.” Her wicked smile sends shivers down the girl’s spine.

  This really wasn’t going to end well. “Get out!” Millie shouts. “You’ve got what you wanted. Now leave me alone.”

  “Make us,” Jade taunts, pushing her face into the other girl’s. “Go on, lying cow, show us what you’re made of.” As Jade’s hand moves, Millie spots the metallic glint of a Stanley knife. She’s picked it up from the bench and is now wielding it in front of the terrified girl’s face. She turns to the others. “Watch. I’m going to cut her. That stupid mole on her face will be the first thing to go. I’m going to scar the bitch for life. But first I’m having this little beauty.” Jade snatches the gold locket that’s hanging around Millie’s neck before lashing out and slicing into her cheek.

  “No!” Millie’s hands fly to her face, she looks at them and they’re covered in blood. “You’ll get into trouble now. You don’t want that, do you? Better if you just go.”

  Jade laughs, thrusting the blade within a spit of the girl’s other cheek. “I can make a right mess with this. Everyone who looks at you will feel sick.” She nudged her friend. “Watch this, Kaz. I’m going to cut her again. She’s so scared she won’t lift a finger to stop me.”

  But she’s wrong. Jade has no idea. Millie is scared all right, but not of Jade. She’s given them every chance, politely asked them to stop, but still the torment has continued. Well, it will end now, and it won’t be pretty.

  Millie feels the familiar rage boil up through her body and screams as the frenzy takes hold.

  * * *

  What took place after that, Millie could not recall exactly, try as she might. But one thing that remained imprinted on her mind’s eye was the look of utter disbelief on Jade’s face as the lump hammer hit the side of her head. A split second later, Jade fell like a stone to the floor. Next, she went for Kaz, slamming the hammer into her head too. Sarah stoo
d stock-still for a second and then ran for her life. Millie heard Jade groan. So she wasn’t dead. Pity. She would’ve put that right, but the familiar, loving voice brought her back to the moment.

  Her granny was home. Millie closed her eyes and repeated the comforting words, the ones that always got her through.

  It’ll be all right. Granny knows what to do.

  “I had no choice, it was me or them,” she whimpered, watching Jade crawl towards the door. Millie saw the shock on her granny’s face as she looked at Kaz struggling to get to her knees. “There’s another one but she ran away,” she said. “They’ll tell the police. Sarah saw everything. They’ll take me away from you!”

  Granny shook her head. “You lost it again. I warned you, Millie. I told you to be careful.” She held the girl close. “And your poor face. We’ll have to see to that before it gets infected.” She looked around the shed at the mess, ignoring Jade and Kaz who were holding each other up as they made their way out of the door and towards the third girl waiting for them behind a clump of trees. “This is bad. There will be questions. We must make sure no one finds out the truth.” She handed Millie a hanky. “Wipe the blood from your face, then take your satchel and go. Walk around the hill and come back up the path. I’ll clear up here.” She hugged Millie close. “Let those girls go, let them tell the police their tales. If they come here, I promise you they won’t find a thing. All they’ll see is you returning home from school. This will be our secret, child. You, me and Gorse House will hide this mess for ever.”

  Chapter One

  The present day

  Day One

  Tom Calladine handed the wriggling infant back to his daughter, Zoe. “I’ll just sort this and we’ll get back. We don’t want the little one getting cold.” He hunkered down and brushed away the twigs and fallen leaves littering his mother’s grave in Leesdon churchyard. He replaced the dying flowers in the vase with a bunch of fresh ones, stood back and smiled. “Yellow roses, her favourites.” Glancing up, he noted dark clouds gathering over the hills in the distance. The weather was closing in. Late autumn. There’d be snow up on the tops before long.

  “Freda Jean.” Zoe kissed one of her baby girl’s soft pink cheeks and pointed to the headstone. “Your great-granny.”

  “Freda would have loved this, seeing the family grow, knowing she had a stake in the future.”

  “I’m glad I met her, Dad. We didn’t know each other well but I liked her a lot,” Zoe said.

  “She liked you too,” he said softly.

  She nodded at the grave alongside Freda’s. “You don’t say much about your dad though. You don’t hold what he did against him, do you?”

  Did he? Calladine had never given it much thought. “If anyone was upset by what happened, it should have been Freda. I mean, he had an affair. Good job he did, or I wouldn’t be here. And it just shows the sort of woman Freda was to take on her husband’s love child and raise me as her own.”

  Zoe laughed. “I’ve never thought of you as a ‘love child’. Come to think of it, you never say much about either of your parents. You must have tales to tell. I’d like to hear them sometime.”

  “I’ve got boxes of old photos at home. I’ll bring them round one night. Freda was quite a looker in her day, you know.”

  “I’ve often heard people refer to her as ‘Jean’. Didn’t she like the name Freda?” Zoe asked.

  “She didn’t mind either, it depended on who she was talking to. That waster of a cousin of mine, Ray Fallon, used to call her Auntie Jeannie. Thought it was less old-fashioned. Speaking of names, what about the child? Come up with anything you like yet? You’re running out of time to register the birth.”

  Zoe rolled her eyes. “Try telling Julian that. Truth is, Dad, we just can’t agree, but like you say, we’ve only got a few days left and then we’re in trouble.”

  “A family name perhaps?” he suggested.

  Ignoring that suggestion, Zoe said, “What d’you think about Maisie?”

  “Maisie Calladine. Hmm, got a nice ring to it, and unusual. You don’t get many Maisies in Leesdon.”

  “Exactly. You have no objections?”

  “Not my place, is it?” Calladine smiled. “Let’s get both of you home. Poor little thing’s getting grizzly.”

  “And it’ll be Maisie Brandon Calladine,” Zoe said firmly. “Can’t leave Jo out, she’s feeling sidelined enough.”

  “Why?”

  “Julian’s the biological father, I gave birth to her. Jo feels a bit surplus at times, I know.”

  “You’ll have to put her right,” he said. “The pair of you are Maisie’s parents — it’s what was agreed. Julian will just have to accept that.”

  “I hope so.”

  Calladine smiled. “But the surname is a bit of a mouthful.”

  “She’ll grow into it,” Zoe said firmly. “Let’s get gone, it’s bloody freezing out here. There’s a mug of hot coffee waiting when we get back, and you can look at all the prezzies we’ve been given.” Zoe Calladine secured her daughter in the car seat and climbed in beside her. “It’s embarrassing — there’s enough baby stuff there to kit out a shop.”

  “Is Jo okay with Maisie?” Calladine asked.

  “Almost. I’m slowly winning the battle.” Zoe grinned. “Julian, though, is another matter. He wants us to call her Julia, you know, a feminine version of his own name.”

  “You know what he’s like.”

  She laughed. “A first-class pain in the neck.”

  It took them only ten minutes to reach the house in Lowermill where Zoe and her partner, Jo Brandon, lived. Calladine parked up and carried the sleeping infant, still strapped in her car seat, up the front steps.

  Inside, Zoe gestured at the pile of baby goods in the sitting room. “Just look at all this. Apart from the useful stuff, there’s loads of toys she’ll never play with. Jo suggested we give some to the local tots group.”

  “Not a bad idea. Let’s have that coffee, then I’ll leave you in peace. You’re looking a bit ragged around the edges. You should get your feet up while she’s asleep.”

  “Thanks a million, Dad, right confidence booster you are. But you’re right, sleep is a problem. We’re neither of us getting much. That little madam might look all cute and innocent, but you should hear the racket she makes in the middle of the night.”

  Zoe disappeared into the kitchen to sort the coffee, leaving Calladine to look at the presents. Arrayed on top of a chest of drawers was a pile of clothing, along with soft toys, some still in boxes.

  “We’ve had loads from people you know,” Zoe told him. “Some of them must have been pricey, too. That large pink teddy with the gold bow, for instance, is sporting a designer label. Came special delivery a couple of days back.”

  “You must never forget I know some nice people, but I also know a helluva lot of not so nice ones. You should be careful what you accept.”

  “It’s a toy, Dad, what d’you think it’s going to do, explode?”

  He picked up the box. He supposed he was being a bit overdramatic — until he read the card: For the child, regards, Lazarov.

  Calladine felt his stomach knot. A few months back, a Bulgarian gangster called Andrei Lazarov had sworn to do him harm. The man was a known killer and — despite police efforts to catch him — still free.

  “Can I take this?” He saw the look on Zoe’s face, she obviously thought he was overdoing the safety angle.

  “If you must, but I really like that one, the fur is gorgeous, so plush. What possible use can it be to you, Dad?”

  “The man who sent it to you wants me dead,” he said simply.

  Chapter Two

  Having looked at the other gifts Zoe had received for the infant, Calladine left for the station via the Duggan Centre. The child’s biological father, Professor Julian Batho, was the senior forensic scientist there. Calladine wanted the expensive teddy bear gone over with a fine-tooth comb. The problem was, should he involve Julian or not? The m
an was so wrapped up in his role as new father that if he thought the child was in danger, he’d never leave her side, which would do Zoe’s head in. Calladine decided to compromise and leave the toy with Roxy Atkins. Granted, she was in IT forensics, but prior to that she’d worked with Julian and knew the ropes. Even more important, she knew when to keep her mouth shut.

  The outing with Zoe and the detour to the Duggan meant he didn’t get to Leesdon station until lunchtime. He was hoping for a quiet lunch in the canteen, but before he had time to order, Ruth Bayliss, his sergeant and close friend, collared him.

  “Enjoy your time with the little one?” she asked, putting her coat on. “Where did proud granddaddy take her then?”

  “Leesdon churchyard,” he replied. “The three of us visited Freda’s grave.”

  Ruth snorted. “Bet the poor little thing loved that! Honestly, Tom, you’ve no idea. A bloody graveyard, for goodness’ sake. What’s wrong with the park or feeding the ducks like other granddads?”

  “Thought she’d like to meet the ancestors. Anyway, it was Zoe’s idea. It was Freda’s birthday last week and she wanted to take some fresh flowers. Have I missed much? Where are you off to?”

  “We’ve had an anonymous call about an incident on the Hobfield. The caller didn’t give much detail, simply that there’d been an accident and we’d find a body in number sixty-seven Heron House. Life in our little neck of the woods doesn’t get any easier, does it?”

  “Legit, d’you reckon?”

  Ruth shrugged. “Might be, or it could be a hoax, but we can’t take the chance.”

  “Okay, you go ahead, and I’ll join you in a while. I need a quick word with Greco first. If there is a body and you suspect foul play, get Natasha on it at once.”

  “I do know my job, Tom.”

  Calladine wanted to speak to Greco about Lazarov, ask if anything was known about his current activities. Stephen Greco was Leesdon’s DCI, newly promoted from Oldston station. He and Calladine had history, the relationship hadn’t started well. But the new dispensation dictated that both had to try harder and make it work, Calladine in particular.