Their lips met long and hard. Could he take time out for this?

More to the point, should he take time out for this woman? Her hands roamed over his chest, flipping open his shirt buttons.

“We should make up for lost time…Don’t you want me, Tom?

Want me like before—you do remember how it was, don’t you, lover?”

Of course he remembered. How could he forget?

Their lips met again and this time the passion overpowered everything else in his head—the case, the problems, her need for his help. He pulled away from her. “Those pictures. Show them to me again.”

Lydia groaned and reached for her folder. “‘Here you go, Tom, and don’t take long. This girl is hungry.”

Calladine looked carefully at each one until he found it. Lydia had snapped Fallon as he stood by his car. He’d just got out and was making towards him. But it was his goon that caught his attention. The camera had caught him at the moment he lifted the arrangement of roses from the boot.

That could be it—the piece of the puzzle that would nail the bastard.

“Sorry, Lydia—I have to go out.” He was fastening his shirt and grabbing his suit jacket as he moved. “Stay. Settle in. Take the back bedroom; get yourself some food. I’ll be back later and we’ll talk.”

With that he was gone, banging the front door behind him.

* * *

Calladine pulled into the care-home car park. He took a quick look in the mirror to make sure he didn’t have Lydia’s lipstick all over his face, and made for the door. He had to knock. Since his mother’s death he no longer had a key card.

“Is Monika here?” he asked the young woman at the reception desk.

“She’s with some of the residents in the dining room. Go on through, Inspector.”

Monika looked up as he entered the room. She didn’t smile—but she didn’t frown or tell him to get lost either.

“Sorry, Monika. I should have come before…Look—we could do with having a proper talk at some time. Clear the air. But for now—this is business.”

She stood up from where she had been kneeling beside an elderly woman.

“I don’t think we’ve anything much to say, do you, Tom?

Actions, as they say, speak louder than words; and your actions over the past weeks have spoken volumes. You haven’t been near me for weeks—you didn’t even speak to me at your mother’s funeral. A perfect opportunity I would have thought.” She nodded towards her office. “In there, if you want to talk. Not in public, if you don’t mind.”

He couldn’t blame her. He’d been a first-class bastard.

“It’s the funeral I want to speak to you about. I know Zoe had a word. She suggested you brought some of the flowers back here. It was a filthy day—all that rain, and they’d only have been ruined if we left them on the grave.”

“Yes, she did offer—and I took her up on it. I didn’t touch the arrangement from you and Zoe, but I did take some of the bouquets. They are in vases around the rooms. You don’t want them back, do you?”

“Oh no, nothing like that. I’m only interested in the roses—that elaborate concoction from Fallon that spelt out ‘Auntie Freda’”

“Yes, I think we did take those. I can check. But before we do anything there’s something I need to do. Your mother instructed me to give you this.” She reached down and retrieved an envelope from a safe bolted to the floor. “She left this for you. She gave it to me the day she moved in here and said I was to only give it to you once she’d gone. She made me promise not to say anything, so I had no choice—I had to respect her wishes. She was fully aware of what she was doing when she gave it to me.”

“Do you know what it is?” He gave the large brown envelope a shake. There was something inside. He could feel it moving around.

“I’ve no idea. She didn’t say and I didn’t ask. Apparently there’s a letter, so that should explain it all. Now—the flowers you wanted.”

This was a mystery he hadn’t expected. He shook the envelope some more as he followed Monika along the corridor. Whatever it contained wasn’t very big.

“We’ll walk around and check all the vases.”

“You haven’t thrown any away?”

“I really couldn’t say, Tom. I had no idea I was supposed to hang on to them. What’s this all about?”

“Evidence, Monika. Evidence. Enough to nail that bastard cousin of mine with any luck.”

“We must have put them in the conservatory. You’re in luck—here are your roses. Shall I wrap them?” She was being facetious and it didn’t suit her.

“No. In fact, don’t touch them. Don’t let anyone in here until I’ve checked these out.”

The roses had large heads and were the purest white. Having been indoors for several days in a warm environment, the flowers had opened up. Calladine snapped on a pair of gloves, bent down and moved one or two of the heads with the end of a pen. Bingo!

On the underside of several of them were what looked like blood stains. It looked as if the roses had picked up a very fine spray and their delicate petals had drunk it in. With a bit of luck, that fine spray of blood would turn out to be from the witness, as he was thrown in the boot of Fallon’s car and shot. Calladine could only hope so.

“I’m going to get our SOCO team down here. Don’t let anyone in this room, Monika, and don’t touch these. If I’m right, then I’ve got him—at long last.”

But who to tell? Should he ring Central? It was their case after all. If he did that, then it would be their SOCO team he should call.

He tapped in Jones’s number.

“Sir, that trouble with Fallon earlier in the week. I’ve got some evidence that could put the dead witness in the boot of Fallon’s car.”

There was silence.

“Sir? Did you hear that? I need forensics down here as soon as, and I can’t decide how to call it—us or Central.”

He heard Jones clear his throat. “Us, Tom. Keep this with us for now. Call Batho, get him started, and then come in and report to me.”

Not Central, then. Was that a mistake?

He turned to Monika. “There’ll be a team down here very soon.

They’ll take the flowers; that’s all, and they won’t disturb the residents.”

“So when do we talk, Tom? When do we decide what to do about this disaster of a relationship of ours? Or is it a matter of rounding things off as neatly as we can before calling it a day?”

She was looking at him strangely. He wanted to nod and tell her she’d got it right, but she didn’t look at all happy. Up until the point

—just about an hour ago—when Lydia had exploded into his life again, he’d have been only too happy to fling his arms around her and try again—but not now. Lydia had her claws in deep, and whatever was going on with her was just going to have to run its course.

“There is no relationship between us anymore, Monika. There hasn’t been for some time. You know that as well as I do. We should settle for friendship. I’d like that. I don’t like not speaking to you and having to pussyfoot around whenever we meet.”

He could tell from the look on her face that this wasn’t what she’d expected to hear.

“Get out of here, Tom Calladine! You’re a shambles and a disgrace. Get out of my sight and don’t come back. I don’t want to talk to you and I certainly don’t want to be your friend.”

So much for that.

Chapter 18

Calladine didn’t go back to his cottage—he’d leave that little treat for later. He went to the hospital—straight to Julian’s lab. He wanted a quick word before the scientist got his hands on those roses.

Julian Batho was getting his gear together as the DI knocked on his door.

“Got something else for me, Inspector. A bunch of flowers, I believe.”

“There’s blood on some of them. You are aware that a witness who was due to testify against Ray Fallon, was found dead at the beginning of the week?”

Julian nodded; all attention.