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One thing was certain—Freda Calladine must have loved his father very much, and because of that she’d been prepared to love Tom too.

“This whole mess does have its upside, Ruth.” He broke into a sudden grin. “It means Ray Fallon is no longer my cousin.”

“It means he never was—so make sure you tell the right people at work and get your career back on track.”

This cheered him up no end, and he whistled his way through repacking the tin box. “Right, Ruth!” His sergeant was now idly wondering around the house inspecting the mess Lydia had left behind.

“She’s got some cheek, that bimbo. She’s left make-up all over your kitchen worktops and the dishes are still clogging up the sink.

Look at the clothes strewn all over the sitting room—she obviously couldn’t decide what to wear today. Where’s she gone anyway? Did she tell you she was going out?”

“I’m not her keeper, Ruth. Lydia can do as she pleases.” He closed the tin box. “Will you look after this for me? You can see what things are like here, and I don’t want to risk Zoe finding all this until I’m ready to tell her.”

“Okay. I’ll put it in the boot of my car, and you can put the kettle on. If you can find it.”

His mobile rang.

“Sir! Good news.” It was Rocco. “Patsy Lumis has been found.

She’s in the general, in a coma.”

A coma—and that was good news? “Where was she found?”

“On the roadside. The one that leads up to the garden centre from the bypass.”

“Have you got forensics down there?”

“Yes. Julian’s lot should be crawling all over it by now.”

“Okay. Ruth and I will get down there and talk to the doctors. I’ll be back in later with an update.” He called out to Ruth.

“No time for tea—Patsy’s in the general. She’s been found.”

They had no idea how bad this might be. All they knew was that she was still alive. But what had she been put through?

Patsy Lumis was in intensive care and, according to the doctor, in a bad way.

“Her injuries are minor; nothing more than a few cuts and scratches. But she’s had a major epileptic seizure, and what’s really worrying is the length of time it may have lasted before she was found. We have no way of knowing, but what we do know is that she was both cyanosed and tachycardic when she was brought in—lack of oxygen and an erratic heartbeat. I can’t say when she’ll come round. I can’t say whether she’ll remember very much either.

I’m afraid we just have to wait and see.”

“Does she have any other injuries apart from the superficial ones? Her teeth, for example, are they intact?”

“Yes, everything is quite normal. It’s as I said; she has suffered mild abrasions from what seems to be branches and twigs.”

“What about toxicology? Has she been given anything?”

The doctor paused and studied the notes at the foot of her bed.

“Nothing obvious, but some of them don’t show up for a few hours

—the date rape drug for example. And there is evidence of sexual activity. She’s bruised, as if the experience was forced and very rough. If I had to give an opinion, then I’d say she’d been raped.”

Raped, but otherwise okay. It was something—bad enough, but nonetheless, in comparison to what had happened to the others, she’d had a narrow escape.

“What was she wearing?”

“The forensic people took her clothing away. But as I recall she was wearing a tracksuit—nothing else.”

“I see the name you’ve put on the notes is ‘Vida,’” Ruth interjected, looking first at the doctor and then at Calladine. “Why is that?”

“We had no idea who she was when she arrived, and it was the name embroidered on the tracksuit top.”

“We need to speak to Julian and look at that tracksuit,” Calladine decided. “If anything changes, then ring me straight away.” He handed the doctor one of his cards.

“We’ll find Julian and then we’ll go look at where she was found.”

Chapter 21

“It’s a standard issue—on sale at Leesdon Gym with the option to have your name, initials, or whatever embroidered on the top. And before you ask, I haven’t been stepping on your toes—I was a member myself briefly, so that’s how I know.”

“Did it fit her properly?” Ruth asked. “I mean, it wasn’t too big or too small?”

“As far as I know it was fine. It’s not new though. It’s been washed several times, and I’m doing tests to see whose DNA it might be harbouring.”

“Good. Let me know what you get ASAP.”

“Incidentally, the blood on the roses was a match, Inspector.

I’ve passed the news on to your DCI. But I’m still curious about how you knew. I will find out, you know!” Julian Batho’s head turned again to his microscope.

“What blood? What’s he going on about?”

“Blood from the witness—the one my cousin murdered.”

“So you’ve got him then? Fallon?”

“Perhaps. It would be good to get an actual forensic link between those flowers and the boot of his car though.”

“A search warrant. Surely that can’t be refused now, not in the light of this new evidence? There will be fibres and stuff—if there are, then Julian will find them.”

“We’ll see. Fallon’s a slippery bastard, as well we know.”

“We could go to the site where Patsy was found, then the gym.

It’s just around the corner from there.” Ruth traced the route in the air with her finger.

“Okay, a quick look and then we’ll hopefully discover who ordered the tracksuit.”

“It’s looking better all round, isn’t it, guv?”

“Let’s wait and see. Don’t get ahead of yourself now, Sergeant.”

But the truth was, they were getting closer. They were closing in, and the evidence was building. Once they had their suspect in custody, the DNA evidence would nail him once and for all.

* * *

The road was narrow, no more than a single track leading down to the garden centre. The hedge Patsy had scrambled through was high and deep—she’d been lucky. But where had she come from?

Where had she been held?

“Let’s take a closer look. I want to know what’s beyond this hedge.” He led the way through.

They emerged on a piece of rough land to the side of the garden centre. Patsy had come through the hedge several hundred yards from the café, through a hedge that encompassed both the garden centre and the nursery.

The place was busy again, and so was the café. “Want to speak to Sandra Dobson, sir?”

He nodded and made for a table by the window. He was thinking; his mind a storm of questions—which all brought him back to the same one—why here? As Calladine sat and considered things, the pieces started to fit together. The soil—fertilised soil, and the need to move—this entire area was being considered for development. He’d been a fool not to have considered it before.

This place might be busy now, but at night it was as quiet as the grave—there were no houses in the vicinity. He looked towards the row of conifers that separated the two businesses. The nursery was their best bet. But where did Vida fit in, and who was she?

“Hot, a drop of milk and no sugar. Just how you like it.” Ruth deposited a cup in front of him. “Robert Rigby’s car is outside, sir.

Apparently it’s been there since late yesterday afternoon.”

Of course it was. Rigby was the catalyst in all this. If he was capable of buying a child, then what else might he do? He worked for the planning department, so he’d had dealings with the owners of both businesses. But where was he, and why had he left his car here? Calladine stood up. In trouble, that’s where he was. Patsy escapes, and Rigby disappears—too much of a coincidence. He must have come here and stumbled on something. It could well have been Rigby that presented Patsy with an opportunity to get away. Their man must have got careless, allowing Patsy to escape.