by Lisa Cutts
I froze with my hand on the front door.
Did I open the door and dare that, in the cover of darkness, even if my luck had now run out and this was the early return of the owners, I could still make it into the shadows and to safety?
It had to be worth it, and I had surprise on my side.
Only flaw in my plan – the door was locked.
The headlights shone straight at me through the glass window, causing me to duck. I frantically looked up and down for a key, a bolt, anything to unlock the fucking door.
Then I remembered, I’d left the lights on upstairs. I figured I had only a minute before they came through the front door.
I wasted valuable seconds in the hallway as the car’s headlights lit up the staircase. There was only one option left to me: go back out the way I’d come in.
I took the stairs two at a time, grabbing at the hand-rail, woollen glove failing to get any purchase from the polished surface, but wanting to steady myself. If I fell, I was going to prison, or possibly worse.
The kind of person who kept a quarter of a million in their home wasn’t an average person.
Racing up the stairs to the back bedroom, I thought about whose house this actually was. I had no doubt bitten off more than I could chew.
For a spilt second I hesitated at the doorway, unsure whether to turn the lights off, but I dismissed it as a bad idea. They might just assume they had left them on before they went out for their somewhat brief soiree.
I ran across the room to the still-open window, prayed that neither of them would go straight to the back of the house, put the downstairs light on and see the ladder against the wall.
Knowing I had only a few seconds now, I climbed up onto the windowsill, made a grab for the ladder and froze.
I could hear a key in the front door, then voices.
‘Why ’asn’t the alarm come on?’ said a cockney-accented man.
Fucking great – a gangster.
‘Christ if I know,’ said the female equivalent. ‘Did you set it?’
‘Of course I set it. You watched me do it.’
The voices were carrying up the hallway, across the bedroom to where I stood perched on the windowsill, one hand on the ladder, the other on the window.
It was now or never.
He knew he had a ridiculous amount of cash in his safe, and I knew he would go straight for it.
I all but threw myself out of the window, clambered down, missing out rungs as I went, chancing that I wouldn’t break an ankle as I jumped the last four feet into the darkness.
That was when they grabbed me.
Chapter 16
The bar was getting busy and Sophia and Dane no longer had a quiet corner all to themselves. Other drinkers were encroaching on their space, meaning that when Dane tried to ask her something, he had to lean across and put his mouth to her ear.
A shudder ran through her as he touched her.
‘Shall we get out of here?’ he said. ‘Get something to eat.’
She felt herself nod without really thinking it through. Food would do her good, not to mention prolonging the time she got to spend with Dane.
He stood up and cut a path through the throng towards the door. Twice he glanced back to make sure she was making her way out of the crowd. When he reached the door he held it open and waited for her to step outside.
‘Still my treat,’ he said. ‘Where do you want to go?’
She swayed a little in the cool evening air, aware she was probably about to slur her words.
‘This time of night we’d be lucky to get anything,’ she said, now over-enunciating every syllable.
‘Come on,’ he said, ‘we’ll find somewhere open.’
*
After twenty minutes of wandering around and finding places were either full, about to close for the night or looked a bit of a health hazard, they opted for two portions of chips from a roadside van and wandered in the direction of the beach.
The two inebriated off-duty detectives sauntered along the pebbles towards the sea, away from all signs of life.
‘I don’t want to walk much further,’ she said, unsure now that she stood with her cooling chips in her hand, looking across to where France was supposed to be. She’d be damned if she could find it after four shots, two large beers and glasses of prosecco she hadn’t been sober enough to count.
‘Hold these,’ said Dane as he passed her his chips and took off his jacket. He placed it on the pebbles and held out a hand as he clumsily sat down.
‘Not the most comfortable of places, but at least we can have a conversation without someone being able to overhear us.’
Her head turned sharply towards his voice; she was unable to see his features clearly in the gloom.
‘That sounds a bit paranoid,’ was the only thing she could think of to say.
‘I really didn’t want to end up on the beach with you,’ he said. ‘When I thought how tonight might have gone, it was going to be nothing like this.’
‘What were you expecting? This is East Rise not the West End of London. It’s pretty slim pickings here on a Tuesday night at ten o’clock.’
‘It’s not where I thought we’d end the evening.’
Sophia was only aware that her legs had started moving of their own accord when she heard the sound of her feet losing their purchase on the pebbled beach.
‘Are you all right?’ he asked as he put out a hand to steady her.
She handed him back the two packets of chips and lowered herself down on to the shingle, the noise giving away that she was finding it more difficult and a lot less elegant than she would have liked it to be.
At least in the gloom he couldn’t clearly see her ungainly descent.
She heard the clear signs of Dane sitting down beside her on the makeshift blanket. From the lack of body heat, she guessed that he was moving that bit further away.
‘Your chips’ll be getting cold,’ he said as he held one of the bundles, white paper the most defined part of his movements.
‘Thanks,’ she said, resisting the urge to cram a handful into her mouth so she could ask him a question.
‘Why did you come here?’ she said.
There was a rustle of paper, then a waft of salt-and vinegar-soaked chips.
‘To eat these,’ he said.
‘No, you cretin,’ she laughed. ‘I mean East Rise nick. Why here? Why now?’
‘More a case of being sent here. I’m new and it seems a bit of a project to keep posting the fast-track detectives in all sorts of departments under the guise of development. Major Crime seemed a natural progression. And, of course, there was a vacancy.’
‘Pierre,’ she said to herself.
‘What?’
‘Never mind,’ said Sophia. ‘We lost an officer and it seemed to set in motion a kind of mass exodus.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry. Were you close?’
‘Not really, but he was a lovely guy. It’s always tough when someone you saw every day simply isn’t there anymore.’
‘How did he die?’ said Dane. ‘If you don’t mind me asking.’
Sophia found she was holding her breath, and then said, ‘He was murdered. On duty.’
She heard the shifting of pebbles again and heard a change in his voice – a tone to it that hadn’t been there before.
‘Must have been devastating for you all, especially Harry.’
Sophia hesitated then, the breeze and strangeness of the situation sobering her up and sharpening her senses. It struck her as an odd remark to make.
‘Why did you mention Harry?’ she said after a considerable silence. ‘He didn’t have anything to do with it. It wasn’t his fault.’
‘I didn’t say it was,’ said Dane. ‘Last thing I was suggesting was that he was to blame, but he’s the detective inspector and it’s his incident room. He must have felt responsible, whatever his actions, not to mention that every member of his team looks up to him as their boss.’
Sophia w
asn’t sure if it was the cool evening breeze rolling over her or something else.
Dumping her chips on the pebbles, she pushed herself to her feet.
‘We’ve got an early start, Dane. I’ll see you in the morning.’
The noise she made as she scrambled back towards the promenade coupled with her fury meant it was impossible for her to hear whether Dane made any effort to call her back or simply let her walk away.
Chapter 17
Wednesday 6 May
The atmosphere in the incident room at East Rise had not been anything resembling normal for some time, and this particular morning it was more strained than ever.
Sophia wasn’t used to having to wonder whether she should talk to her colleagues or ignore them: usually she either chatted or got her head down when the work required her undivided attention. Today, she was unnaturally quiet, something that Hazel Hamilton seemed to home in on straight away.
‘You’ve not said much this morning, Soph,’ she said from her desk across from Sophia’s. ‘Everything okay?’
‘I’m fine, thanks, Haze,’ she smiled back.
‘Did you have a late night?’
Sophia’s head snapped up from the statement she was pretending to read that was clutched in her hand. ‘Why do you say that?’
As soon as the words were out, she realized how they sounded. So much for trying to play last night’s antics close to her chest. She was going to give herself away at this rate.
‘No reason,’ said Hazel, a frown creasing her forehead. ‘You just don’t seem to be yourself, that’s all.’
Hazel glanced around the room, lowered her voice and said, ‘And I wasn’t sure how pairing you up with the new guy was going to go down. What do you make of him?’
With a shrug, Sophia said, ‘He was reasonable company, although he seemed a bit put out to be working on a fraud investigation. He clearly expected Major Crime to be a bit more glamorous.’
As Hazel opened her mouth to say something else, Harry appeared in the incident room, coffee mug in hand.
‘Where’s Dane?’ he asked as he scanned the blank faces of his team.
No one answered; no one wanted to admit that the new boy was late on his second day.
The door from the main part of the station opened, and all heads turned towards the noise of someone making an entrance, two boxes of Krispy Kreme doughnuts held aloft.
‘Really sorry I’m late,’ he said. ‘As I was running a few minutes behind schedule anyway and knew I’d need to make amends with doughnuts, I thought I might as well do it in style and stop and get the good stuff.’
He offered the room a glimpse at his wares and smiled in Sophia’s direction, an action that didn’t escape Harry’s notice.
Dane balanced the boxes on the edge of a free desk and said, ‘I’ll get a round of drinks in then. Who wants what?’
The silence was broken by the stampede of officers hoisting their cups on to the table next to the sugary snacks, unable to turn down the chance of not only having someone make them a hot drink so early in the day, but bringing them the staple food of all police stations.
‘When you’ve done that, Dane,’ said Harry, ‘would you and Soph come through to my office for a minute, please?’
*
‘Thanks, you two,’ said Harry when the three of them were settled in his office. ‘Events of yesterday pretty much superseded any chance I had of speaking to you at length, Dane. I know it’s far from ideal that you’re both working with an entirely different department and have been roped in to help Fraud, but it’s out of my hands.’
There were a couple of seconds before anyone spoke.
‘Can’t say it’s not a huge disappointment to feel as though I’ve missed out on working on a murder, sir,’ said Dane. ‘Sophia’s been a great help though.’
Sophia felt as though her cheeks were on fire and prayed that the air of nonchalance she was adopting was working, although she severely doubted it.
‘We’ve been briefed about the job and have to get back to HQ today,’ she said, wanting to steer the conversation away from any potentially dangerous mention of their late-night drinking, or the fact she’d stormed off at the end of the night. ‘We’ve been given this morning to sort anything before we’re loaded up with work. There are some early-morning warrants across the county, arrests, that sort of thing we’ll be helping out with.’
‘Okay,’ said Harry. ‘Don’t forget that if you need anything give me a call. I wasn’t keen to give up any staff, but I had no say in it. So thank you for going along without complaint.’
‘By the sounds of it,’ said Sophia, ‘I think we’ll be working with them for a few weeks. Unless, of course, you can pull any strings?’
He smiled at them both and said, ‘I’ll do my best, but I think anything I have to say will fall on deaf ears. That’s about it unless you’ve anything else you want to raise?’
They both shook their heads at him then got up to leave.
Dane indicated to Sophia that she should go first, but as she reached the door, he said, ‘Oh, there was one other thing, sir.’
She hesitated in the doorway and Dane said, ‘It’s okay, Soph, nothing for you to worry about. I’ll catch you up.’
Despite feeling a little perturbed at her dismissal, she stepped into the corridor as Dane reached across and pulled the door to behind her. Curiosity made her want to stay and hear what they were talking about through the paper-thin walls. Manners stopped her, so she ambled back to her desk to gather her paperwork for the day ahead.
A few minutes later, she watched Dane and Harry walk into the incident room, side by side, sharing a joke about something. Last night, Dane’s opinion of Harry hadn’t been a very positive one, so the camaraderie struck her as somewhat false.
She dismissed her own thoughts as nothing more than a product of her hangover, hunger and annoyance that she had ended up spending money on a cab home. A fare she could ill afford.
Even so, she watched Dane as he chatted to Harry: he was full of smiles and nods in the right places, yet there was something calculated about his demeanour.
Sophia had been a police officer for nearly half her life and she was used to seeing the worst in people.
Surely that was what she was doing now? The self-preservation thing she had so easily taken to over the last couple of years. That skill she’d developed of avoidance every time a man talked to her, tried to get to know her. Somehow she would always find a way to convince herself not to get involved.
Perhaps it was time for her to put those feelings aside and take a risk.
Dane threw his head back and laughed at something Harry said that Sophia couldn’t hear from where she was. From the shaking of Harry’s shoulders and the mirth on his face, he was clearly sharing the joke. Something that she rarely saw him do since Pierre had been killed.
There was a chance that Dane wasn’t such a terrible risk to take after all.
Then
First rule of waking up in an unknown location, when the last thing you remember is being grabbed and knocked unconscious, is surely, try to keep still and pretend to still be unconscious.
‘Wakey, wakey, you fucking maggot,’ said a voice close to my ear as I lay on the concrete.
Keeping still earned me a kick in the ribs. I winced and opened my eyes.
The light made me want to shut them again, and they probably would have remained that way had it not been for the bucket of cold water tipped over my head.
Forcing myself to sit upright, despite the pounding in my brain and the urge to vomit, I took in my surroundings. A set of concrete stairs to the right of me led to what I guessed was the ground floor of a house. I hoped that a house was a good sign rather than a lock-up or disused remote building somewhere, which would surely have meant that I wasn’t getting out alive.
In the meantime, two enormous heavies, pumped up on steroids by the looks of their terrible skin and lack of neck, stood between me and the stairs.
>
Not to mention the further problem who stepped out of the shadows straight in front of me – the bloke whose house I had just broken into.
From the self-indulgent portrait in his hallway, I recognized him straight away.
‘Oh,’ I said.
‘Oh, indeed,’ he replied. ‘This is what we in the business call a little bit of a clanger.’
‘Business?’ I said in a voice I hoped wasn’t giving away my fraught nerves.
‘The family business,’ he said. ‘The type that makes problems disappear.’
He left the words hanging there.
I needed to talk myself out of this one, or a sore head and boot to the ribs were going to be the least of my problems.
I looked up at him from the floor, moved back against the wall, and with as much casualness as I could muster, I rested an elbow on my bended knee. It was now or never. ‘When it comes to stealing, I’ve got a very good set of skills. How about I work for you?’
His face instantly took on a frown. From the corner of my eye I saw his two musclemen’s shoulders tense.
‘We caught you escaping,’ he said. ‘Clearly you’re not that skilful.’
He started to turn away from me, and with a nod in my direction said to his minders, ‘Deal with him.’
‘Wait,’ I said, instantly regretting it as he paused and with a swift change in direction, reached for my throat, strong fingers cutting off my air supply.
‘Wait?’ he said, specks of spit hitting me in the face.
I tried to prise his hands off me, but the lack of oxygen was making me panic. I was going to die here in his cellar. The blackness started to creep in on the sides of my vision.
I was taking greedy gasps of stale air. Then I realized my own hands were on my bruised neck, trying to convince my brain that the danger had passed.
He stood over me. ‘You’ve got some fucking nerve breaking into my home then asking for a job.’
‘What if I told you that I could provide you with very useful information about all sorts of criminal activity,’ I said, watching his reaction. ‘Not to mention allowing you to stay one step ahead of the police?’