Your Life or Mine

by Vicki Bradley

  ‘I think you do know,’ Loxton said, keeping her voice soft despite Rosa’s rising anger. She couldn’t back down. She had to push for Gabriella’s sake.

  ‘Where am I supposed to go? My friends all live in bedsits with their boyfriends. There’s no space.’

  ‘We’ll sort something out.’

  ‘Maybe Dominik will let me stay at his?’ Rosa said. Loxton knew Kowalski had said Gabriella had been a good friend, but she hadn’t expected Rosa to know him well enough to stay at his place.

  ‘You knew him before all this, right?’ Loxton asked.

  Rosa frowned, then shook her head, realizing Loxton’s concern. ‘It’s not like that. He’s like my brother. Him and Gabriella went out a few years back. It was just after my mum died. It was an intense time. They were good together. But it fizzled out. Gabriella was so sad after Mum passed away. She wasn’t in the right head space for a relationship.’ Rosa looked upset as she said that.

  ‘Did they get back together?’ Loxton asked. She tried to hide the shock from her voice. She hadn’t known Gabriella back then, her mum had died a couple of years before Loxton met her.

  ‘No, but they stayed friends. He’d still come over for dinner a few times a year. I still got to see him then. But I haven’t seen him for a few years. Gabriella got a serious boyfriend and Dominik kept his distance after that. She broke up with that loser, though, a year back, and I kept hoping maybe she’d get back together with Dominik. She said they were just friends and that was that. But she always looked sad when I asked her about him. Like he was the one that got away.’

  Why had Kowalski told her that he and Gabriella were just close friends? Perhaps Kowalski was one of those men who was promiscuous but managed to keep it quiet. Loxton tried to keep her voice steady, surprised by how upset she was. ‘I didn’t realize the connection, sorry. Let’s get you packed up, Rosa. You can’t stay here; you’re going to come with Dominik and me.’

  Rosa sighed. ‘You’re as stubborn as Gabriella. Fine. Let me get a few things together. And a few of her things. She might need them, and she won’t be able to come back here, will she?’

  ‘I would offer you my place, but my flat isn’t safe,’ Loxton said. ‘And you can’t stay at Dominik’s either, I’m afraid. Our addresses have been compromised.’

  Rosa glanced at Loxton, a flash of fear crossing her face as the seriousness of her situation finally hit home. ‘I’ll call a couple of friends. Someone will put me up. I don’t want police protection. I’d rather be with them.’

  Loxton nodded. ‘It’s there if you need it.’ She’d rather Rosa stayed with friends. She still couldn’t shake the feeling that the police had been infiltrated in some way.

  ‘Someone will put me up,’ Rosa said and began searching the sofa until she found her mobile. ‘Alana, do you think it is this Harding guy?’

  ‘I don’t know. And until we do know, we can’t take any chances. I’ve got the car outside. We’ll give you a lift, make sure no one follows us. But, Rosa, you can’t come back here. Not for the time being. Make sure you pack everything you need. And we’ll get you a new phone. You have to leave your one here. Do you understand?’

  Rosa sighed. ‘Fine, fine.’ She bustled off to her bedroom. Loxton thought that being with other people might help Rosa with all of this.

  Loxton felt a weight lift. At least Rosa would be safe for now. That was something she could do for Gabriella.

  She thought of Kowalski. He had dated both Emma and Gabriella. The Met could be a small world; it wasn’t that unusual. Still, the thought made her feel uneasy. He must be worried about being taken off the cases like she would inevitably be, but she’d told him about her connection – he should have given her the same consideration. This was all getting far too close to home.

  Chapter 30

  Thursday 3 February, 17:20

  Loxton had hugged Rosa when she’d left her with her friends, making her promise she’d do as she’d said. No contact with anyone. She just had to wait. It hadn’t sat well with Rosa.

  There was a buzz of activity in the office as she returned. She could see Patel talking to Kowalski, but before she could head over her office phone rang and she picked it up automatically.

  ‘Hello, Alana. How are you?’ Edward Barratt’s voice was calm but with a slight lift, as if he was holding back telling her some good news.

  She froze momentarily, checking around her in case he was somehow stood nearby. She could almost feel his breath on the back of her neck as a chill ran down her spine. ‘I’m very well, thank you. Did you have some new information?’

  ‘Just a call to see how you were getting on,’ he said. ‘I’m allowed one call a week now, remember? And I thought I’d waste mine on you. I hope you’re not too busy this evening?’

  How had he known that she’d be here to pick up? Or was it just sheer luck? She glanced at her colleagues around her, paranoia getting the better of her. ‘I feel honoured, Edward, but I am actually quite busy. So I’ll have to go now, unless there’s another reason you called?’

  ‘I just wanted to make sure you were safe, what with everything going on,’ Barratt said. ‘That you’re locking your front door nice and tight and the windows, too. Nefarious types are good at scaling walls and getting into first-floor flats, and there’s plenty of old-style cat burglars about. Just be careful, okay? I wouldn’t want something to happen to you when it’s not your time yet.’

  ‘How do you—?’ Before she could finish, the disconnect tone was ringing in her ear. She felt her heart racing, adrenaline coursing through her body. Barratt had somehow known that her address was compromised. At least he didn’t know she’d moved into a hotel. She took comfort from that.

  She joined Patel and Kowalski, but she could see they were having some sort of disagreement.

  ‘What’s going on?’ she asked.

  ‘There was a 999 call while we were out,’ Kowalski said. ‘Some nut making out there’s another body, but the uniform have checked it out and there was nothing. They even took the dogs through and sent the helicopter over. It’s just a hoax.’

  ‘Have you got the 999 call?’ Loxton asked.

  Patel nodded. ‘It’s here. I can play it for you.’ She pulled up the audio digital file that the call centre had sent over and clicked on it. They waited in silence until the police operator’s voice came on.

  ‘Police, fire or ambulance?’

  ‘Police.’ The man’s voice was distorted, strange and cold. There was no emotion; it was almost robotic.

  ‘Putting you through,’ the operator said.

  There was a pause while the operator transferred him, and Loxton strained her ears to listen for any background noise. But all she could hear was his breath, in and out. It was slow, measured – completely in control.

  ‘Police, what’s your emergency?’ a man asked.

  ‘There’s a body in Dulwich Wood,’ the robotic voice crackled.

  ‘Are you with the body now, sir?’ the operator asked.

  ‘Yes. It’s by the lake.’

  ‘Is there anyone else there?’ The operator was trying to keep his voice neutral, but this was not the type of call you got every day.

  ‘The war’s started,’ the distorted voice replied.

  ‘I’m sorry? What’s your name, sir?’

  ‘The war’s started,’ he repeated, then hung up.

  The operator sighed heavily, obviously thinking it was a hoax, and ended the call a moment later.

  ‘There’s something odd about his voice,’ Loxton said. ‘It sounds like it’s been scrambled through a voice distorter. That’s a lot of trouble to go to just for a prank. And he quoted the note in Emma’s hand. It could be Harding; he’s tech savvy and he talked about a war.’

  ‘ “The war’s started” is quite a common thing for people to say when they’re pissed off,’ Kowalski said. ‘A teenager could probably distort their voice in five minutes on some app. I bet it’s not hard to do. And Harding’s being
followed by a covert team, so it can’t be him.’

  ‘Barratt just called me. He didn’t say anything exactly, but it was just his demeanour. He seemed to be gloating.’

  ‘Shit, that’s not good,’ Kowalski said. ‘Let’s check Harding is still being followed.’

  Loxton nodded and called Anson’s team. They answered immediately. ‘Hello, Jamie here.’

  ‘It’s Loxton. Have you got Harding in sight?’

  ‘We’re just trying to relocate him.’

  ‘What?’ She tried to keep her voice calm.

  ‘He got on a bike and disappeared into an estate. We’re waiting for him to resurface.’

  ‘When did you lose him?’

  ‘Over an hour ago.’ He sounded embarrassed. ‘But this can happen. We’ll pick him back up again, don’t worry.’

  ‘Those estates are like rabbit warrens,’ Loxton said. ‘He could have dropped the bike in a flat, changed clothes and got out.’

  ‘If he knows someone in here, then yes, he could have,’ the man admitted. ‘But he wouldn’t have got past us in a change of clothing. He’s just trying to wait us out.’

  ‘Can’t you track him with his court tag?’

  ‘He took off his ankle tag with a hacksaw and left it in his flat. Look, when we pick him up again, I’ll call you.’

  She shook her head angrily. ‘He’s ex-SAS. You won’t pick him up again.’ She hung up. ‘They’ve lost him. I don’t like this.’

  Loxton felt sick. Harding was out there. She was glad Rosa had gone to a friend’s. Now if only she could warn Jane…

  ‘Let’s take another look at those woods,’ Kowalski said. ‘The uniform won’t go back out there again. They think it’s some teenagers having a laugh.’

  ‘I really hope they’re right,’ Loxton said.

  * * *

  Kowalski swept his torch in a long arc through the tree branches in Dulwich Wood. ‘There’s nothing here. No one in their right mind would be able to come in here and dump a body. There are always people walking dogs. And then it’s full of teenagers at night. Probably the same ones who called this crap in.’

  ‘The killer left Emma’s body in Camberwell station,’ Loxton said. ‘This would be easy for him. It’s dark now. Maybe he’s playing a game.’ The woods were pitch black, the branches and grey clouds above them blocking out the anaemic light from the rising moon.

  ‘It’s just teenagers, Alana,’ Kowalski said. ‘The uniform didn’t find anything earlier and they had the search dogs and the heat-seeking helicopter. We’ll do one last walk through and then get out of here. We need to help them track down Harding.’

  She nodded, hating to admit it, but Kowalski was right. There was nothing here. It was probably some kid messing about, just random chance that the caller had used the words from the note, or perhaps somehow that piece of evidence had been leaked. The idea that it was some police officer’s son disturbed her, but teenagers could act out in the cruellest ways. He might have heard his mum or dad talking about the case and decided to play up.

  They started walking through the wood again, but it was a massive area. Her hands and feet were freezing.

  Then she heard a noise. Up ahead, towards the lake. Both she and Kowalski froze.

  ‘Animal?’ she whispered.

  ‘Maybe,’ Kowalski answered quietly.

  There was a snap, as if someone had stepped on a broken branch just in the foliage ahead. A brief pause, and then a scrabbling noise from the shrubbery just out of sight.

  Kowalski charged forward and she burst after him, barbed branches and the thorny undergrowth ripping at her, as if trying to hold her back.

  Kowalski’s torchlight bounced crazily off the trees and she was dazzled by its brightness. The gloom around her seemed to darken around them.

  Kowalski was getting ahead of her as she struggled to keep up, chasing him through the foliage, which was becoming denser. A bunch of trees blocked her path, so she veered right, rushing around them, but she was yanked backwards and nearly pulled off her feet. She managed to catch herself before she fell over backwards and turned to face her assailant.

  Her coat had caught on a thorny bush. She tugged frantically at the navy material until it was ripped free. Once she was facing forwards again, she realized she couldn’t see Kowalski’s torch beam anymore.

  ‘Kowalski,’ she called out, straining her ears in the dark.

  Nothing.

  ‘Kowalski.’ She waited another brief moment, but there was no reply.

  She pulled out her torch, but the light was weaker; she could see barely a metre ahead of her.

  She moved forward slower now, unable to run as she had before in the dim light. If she wasn’t careful, she would twist her ankle or worse, and then she would be no good to Kowalski.

  The trees were bunched together here, almost preventing her from struggling forward. Progress was slow, and all the while she strained her ears, trying to hear anything in the silent wood.

  She was surprised at how jittery she felt. She had searched woods plenty of times. Chased after suspects with knives on her own. But here she was, alone in the dark, and she was scared. The trees were becoming sparser and through the thinning branches she could see glimpses of the shimmering lake.

  She looked right along the shoreline, and then left in the opposite direction, but she couldn’t see Kowalski’s torch beam at all.

  She pulled out her mobile and called him. On the fourth ring, he answered.

  ‘Where are you?’ she asked.

  ‘I have no bloody idea. I lost whatever it was. It must have been an animal. It was so fast through the wood.’

  ‘Where are you now? I’m on the shoreline facing the lake. I’ve got my torch on.’ She waved the torch above her head.

  ‘I can’t see you. I’ll head to the shoreline too, if I ever work out which damn way it is.’ Kowalski’s breathing was heavy after running. ‘This was a terrible idea. I hate dark woods.’

  ‘It’s hard to believe we’re still in London. I’ll stay here and keep my torch on. Call me when you reach the lake.’

  ‘Will do,’ he said. ‘The phone map’s useless here. My blue dot just shows me floating in the lake. I’ll call you in a minute; it can’t be that hard to find.’ He hung up and she was left in silence.

  Loxton didn’t like having her back to the wood, but then she needed to peer across the water and try to spot Kowalski’s torchlight.

  The thought struck her that the killer might have tricked them on purpose. Set up a diversion, while he operated somewhere else. That was the likely scenario. This was all just a distraction technique while he left another body at a closed police station.

  There was a snap in the undergrowth behind her.

  She spun around. It sounded too heavy to be a bird. Maybe a fox? She heard another snap and a scuffle through the leaves as something darted away from her. Smaller than a fox. She followed it anyway, her nerves rattled.

  What if this wasn’t a diversion at all? What if this was to lure her here? Barratt’s call to ensure she’d come? Did the killer and Barratt know she would keep searching, even when it was past pointless and everyone else had given up? Loxton shivered. The killer could be here, waiting to snatch her right in the middle of their search efforts for Sarah and Gabriella.

  She stopped.

  There was a noise behind her now. She turned slowly. Something darted away again, the foliage left shaking in its wake. It’s nothing Just an animal, she told herself. A person would make more noise. Even still, she was nervous.

  She needed to get back to Kowalski. She pulled out her mobile and called him again as she walked towards the shoreline. ‘Kowalski, I don’t like this.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  She felt stupid just saying it out loud, but she persisted. ‘What if this is a trap? Barratt’s call to get me here and now the killer has separated us.’

  There was silence on the other end of the phone. ‘Gówno. Alana, I’m nearly at t
he shoreline. Can you see my torch light? I’m going to start waving it, okay, so you know where I am. Get to the shoreline. I’ll be with you in minutes.’

  ‘Promise?’ she said.

  ‘Promise.’ Kowalski’s voice was loud, and she could tell he was running. ‘And get your baton out.’

  She drew it, wishing she had something more dangerous to protect herself with. The lake was in front of her, just through the trees, but she hesitated. The noise was coming from there now. She forced herself forwards. She hated the idea of waiting for the killer to come to her. No, she would go to him.

  She charged through the trees and broke out onto the shoreline. As she did, the noise intensified to a crashing as little creatures darted away from her, too fast to say for sure what they were. The shape of them made her guess rats.

  She scanned the area where they had been congregating and saw it. The body. Hair tangled with leaves and mud. Blonde hair. She trailed her gaze along the hair until she reached a forehead and then pale blue eyes. The soft white skin spattered with mud and blood.

  Sarah.

  She spun around, sweeping the treeline with her torch. He was near; she could feel him watching her. She screamed into the woods. An angry, guttural call. She felt the scream die but her rage only grew. She was going to find him. And when she did, she was going to kill him.

  ‘Alana! Alana!’ Kowalski shouted.

  ‘Over here.’ She waved her torchlight in his direction and watched him fight his way through the trees and undergrowth to join her. His face was ghostly in the pale light.

  ‘Oh, Sarah,’ he said when he saw her.

  Sarah’s face and hands hadn’t been touched by the rats. Her body had only just been dumped. The killer was nearby.

  Loxton pulled out her radio and called it in. ‘Body found by the lake in Dulwich Wood, identified as missing detective Sarah Taylor. Suspect still in the area. There’s only two of us here in the woods; we need backup. Send in a heat-seeking helicopter and dog units.’

  ‘This is Control, sending requested units now.’

  ‘We’ll remain at the crime scene,’ she said.