Past Due (20 page)

“
They don’t know any more than we do, Alex reasoned, afraid of Frankie’s reaction if they used mind control on William Campbell. “They’re flying blind too because they don’t recognise the supernatural element.” Alex leaned back in his chair. “I should never have sent Frankie away,” he admitted.

Josh turned to face him and frowned. “The human woman? How could she help?”

Alex hesitated for a moment but decided it was time for total honesty. They were running out of time. “She works for PaST. Either directly or indirectly, all the leads I’ve been following came from her.”

Josh looked surprised. “Really? That is interesting. We must call her back then, make her help us.”

Alex shook his head. “I sent her away, told her it was too dangerous for her. She won’t help us again.”

“
She will if we hypnotise her.”

“
No. I don’t want her involved in this,” Alex insisted. He decided against mentioning that she was immune to their mind control since Josh might view that as a threat.

“
Do you think she has given up on the case?” Josh asked as he resumed pacing.

“
I doubt it, but I can’t risk involving her any further.”

“
She’s just one human, Alex. What is one life compared to the suffering a demon would unleash?”

“
She is… different. We can’t involve her. I won’t let you.”

“
Then we must spy on her.” He turned towards the door. “We still have a few hours of darkness left.”

“
No!” Alex rushed to block the exit.

Josh’s voice was cool. “Alex, this isn’t your decision to make.”

Both shapeshifters got up and took a step towards him. He was outnumbered and outranked.

Alex swallowed and bowed his head in defeat. “Fine, just… please, try not to get her killed.”

The next morning Frankie woke up with a raging hangover. As the night before slowly came back to her, she groaned and pulled the covers over her head in a childish attempt to avoid reality.

She wondered if Will was still downstairs. Deciding she couldn't avoid reality any longer (she badly needed some ibuprofen) she threw the covers off. Her clock told her it was only 6.30. She never slept well after she’d had too much to drink. She padded downstairs and while the kettle boiled, found the pills and downed twice the recommended dose with a glass of water.

She could hear signs of life from the living room and set a second mug out. Will came through moments later looking rumpled and bleary-eyed. Frankie passed him the pills and he nodded his thanks.

“
You drink too much,” Will told her when he’d downed half his coffee.

Frankie stiffened. “You don’t look so hot yourself.”

“
You try sleeping on that sofa.”

“
I wasn’t expecting house guests or I’d have bought a bed for the spare room.”

“
I mean it though, about your drinking. I can understand why…” even if I can’t actually say why, “But it’s not good for you.”

Frankie took a deep breath. “I’ll take it under advisement,” she replied, as calmly as possible. “So, are you still going to help me?” or do you think I’m crazy again, she added silently.

Will picked up a plastic orange from the fruit bowl and tossed it at her.

“
If this works, we’re on,” she repeated the impression he’d left on the orange as she replaced it in the bowl.

Will sighed. “I guess, as crazy as it all sounds, we’re on. What do you need from me?”

“
I need all the information on that dead body.” The night before she’d explained everything, save for Alex being a vampire. Witchcraft, demons and zombies were enough for anyone. Plus she thought he might disregard any information that came from Alex if he knew the truth. “Brad is our best lead right now, if we can figure out where he got the body, we might be able to find him.”

Will nodded. “I’ll talk to the officer in charge today. Got any ideas for what to say? My own case is rather more important.”

“
Tell him that two freaky things happening so closely together is too much of a coincidence and whilst they might not be related, you want to be kept in the loop.”

Will leaned back and examined her. “You’re used to lying, aren’t you?” he accused.

“
That isn’t a lie, the cases are related, those are my bullet holes in that body. But yes, I do lie. Even if people did want to believe in the supernatural, it’s my job to make sure they don’t.”

Will shook his head in disbelief. “How does a group like yours even come to exist?”

“
We date from the World War Two. Hitler was working on many different ways to win and one of those was the supernatural. When the British government got wind of it they didn’t believe it but they also couldn’t ignore it. My department was formed originally to disprove the supernatural.”

“
But?”

“
But Hitler was right.” Hitler was also part demon, but no need to go into that right now. “Once they knew that the supernatural could be a real threat, the department was expanded and lots of experts were brought in to try and counteract it. When the war finished the decision was taken to keep an eye on things and keep the supernatural out of the public eye, so the department was scaled back but not disbanded.”

“
How many of you work there?”

“
About twenty.”

“
This is crazy,” he muttered.

“
I don’t disagree.”

Will ran a hand over his face. “I need to go home and change. I’ll email you the file when I get to work.”

Frankie didn’t bother to remind him she could access the file herself. “Don’t forget to speak to the other detective.”

“
I won’t.”

Frankie let him out then reset the alarm. It was still dark outside and she wondered what Alex was up to. He probably had hundreds of leads by now and was too swamped to even think about her. A part of her hoped she was right but the more vindictive side of her hoped he was up shit creek.

She headed back to the kitchen to make another coffee when movement caught her eye. A black head appeared through the cat flap and proceeded to climb through.

“
Sorry, kitty, you got the wrong house,” she told it, bending down to scratch behind its ears. The cat looked healthy enough but didn’t have a collar. It was probably just curious.

The cat flap was an integral part of the back door and she had opted for it only because the original door kept sticking. The builders offered to order a new door but that would have taken six weeks while this door was already in stock.

She turned off the alarm and opened the back door for it. “Go on, kitty, off you go.”

The cat sat down and stared at her.

“
Go on, shoo.”

The cat blinked.

Frankie took a step towards it but it dashed to the kitchen doorway and sat there instead. Frankie sighed, she didn’t have time to chase a cat all over the house and it was too cold to leave the door open.

“
Fine, you know the way out when you’re ready. Just don’t expect a lot of company while you’re here.”

She supposed if it didn’t go home soon she’d have to call the SSPCA but for now it could stay. Frankie liked animals, actually. They didn’t give off such strong mental images as humans did and their fur provided a buffer between her hand and their skin making them as good as silent to her.

She’d begged for an animal as a child but her mother wouldn’t hear of it and now she was out too much to get a pet; it wouldn’t be fair on the animal.

She finished making her coffee then carried it through to her desk and logged onto her computer. The cat jumped onto the filing cabinet and watched her.

First she checked the police reports on the bullet-ridden body. The zombie had been Frank Harris and his body had been taken from Mayfield Funeral Home. Few other details had been entered on to the system yet, so Frankie began with a background search on all the staff members.

An hour and a half later she’d come up with one minor assault case dating back sixteen years, a fine for late payment of VAT and a few parking tickets. No one there seemed to fit the description of Bradley, though it was possible Bradley was a friend of one of the staff.

She checked her email to see that Will had sent her the file she’d just read and comments from the officer handling the case. The upshot was that nothing much was happening. The staff had been questioned, as had the dead man’s family and nothing was looking suspicious.

Well, aside from a bullet-riddled, body-snatched corpse found on the beach, of course.

There was, however, a new body snatched this morning from the Western General Hospital. Not much information yet but Will promised to tell her as soon as he had more information.

Frankie decided that her next course of action was to visit the funeral home and show them the sketch of Brad.

As she left her desk she was surprised to see the cat still staring at the screen.

“
Hey little man, you hungry?” The cat looked well cared for, and if she fed him he would only keep returning, but Frankie found she liked that idea. The cat watched her intently as she gave it some tuna and a bowl of water and placed them both on the floor. The cat sniffed the tuna but left it.

Frankie shrugged, “It’s all I have, sorry. I’ve got to go out now but I’ll try and pick up some cat food for you on my way back, okay?”

She headed upstairs to shower and dress and the cat followed, watching her every move. After she got out of the shower Frankie felt a little disconcerted at his continued staring and shut him out of the bedroom while she dressed.

The cat glared at her when she emerged. As she left the house she thought he might try and follow her; after all he’s followed her everywhere else so far. But he simply watched her from the shadows as she told him not to break anything and left.

The Mayfield Funeral Home was located in Stockbridge and after she flashed her fake ID the owner, Harold Crimmins, was happy to talk to her. Frankie agreed with the investigating officer, this man was innocent. She showed him Bradley’s sketch and saw recognition flash in his eyes.

“
He came in about two weeks ago,” Harold told her. “He said his father was dying and wanted to arrange his own funeral before he passed over.”

“
Do you remember his name?”

Harold thought a moment. “Not offhand but I completed a client sheet for him after he left. This way.”

She followed him into his office and watched as he pulled a file from his desk drawer and began going through the sheets in it.

“
Ah, here, Barry Jamison.” He handed her the sheet of paper.

Frankie read over it, it was just a name, date and notes on what had been discussed.

“
I have a terrible memory, you see, I find writing everything down helps me remember and if I can’t, I still have a hard copy. It helps with the personal touch.”

Frankie had already noticed he had a tendency to explain everything. He was probably nervous.

“
I understand. I’m a list writer.”

Harold relaxed a fraction.

“
Did any of your staff see this man?” she asked.

“
No, just me.”

“
No one came in while you were talking?”

“
No.”

“
Do you always see new clients personally?”

“
Yes.” His expression suddenly wavered. “Well, except for a few weeks ago. A day or so after I met with Barry, I came down with something, was bed ridden for three days so Dan took over.”

“
Dan?”

“
He’s my brother, he usually prefers to do the administration side of things.”

“
I need to speak with him.”

Dan was in the next office sorting through invoices. “Not now, I’m trying to get the accounts finished,” he said tersely without looking up.

“
I’m DCI Wright, I wondered if I might have a word.”

Dan finally looked up. “Not another one; haven’t we answered enough questions?”

Frankie could see why he stayed away from the customers.

“
I just have a sketch I need to show you,” she explained.

Dan frowned when he saw the picture. “I remember him, he came in a few weeks back, his stepmother had died or something. He was helping with the funeral arrangements.”

“
Do you remember anything else about the meeting?”

“
Not really, he insisted on seeing everywhere though, which I thought was odd, most people like to stay away from the messier aspects of a funeral home.”

“
You showed him the prep room!” Harold boomed.

Dan seemed to realise he’d made a mistake. “He insisted he wanted to see everything, I didn’t see the harm.”

Frankie left them to argue and went to look for the other two staff members. The brothers didn’t even notice she’d left. She found the other undertaker and his assistant in what she assumed was the prep room, it looked like an embalming room to her, but then that was probably too graphic a name to use.

They remembered seeing Bradley but they hadn't spoken to him and had nothing else to add.

As Frankie left she could still hear the brothers arguing. She hoped no clients came in before they finished.