Don't Trust Him

by Lisa Cutts

  Still, I needed the money if I was going to get away and make a clean start of things, not to mention put things right with Turner. Even though I’d promised to keep him updated with everything I could after seeing him in The Grand, I knew he wouldn’t hesitate to put an end to my favourite pastime of breathing.

  ‘Hi,’ said Sophia through the window when she’d turned the engine off. ‘You want to jump in and we’ll go over it one more time?’

  That annoyed me: we’d been over this several times already. If she couldn’t pay attention, she shouldn’t have fucking well got involved in the first place. If I could have done this without her, taken more of a cut, then I wouldn’t be putting up with an amateur. Still, I could only carry so much cash and was going to take most of hers anyway.

  ‘Sure, darling,’ I said with a smile as I walked round the car to get in beside her.

  She looked across at me as I leaned over and took her hand in mine. She seemed absolutely petrified.

  ‘It’ll be okay,’ I said. ‘No one expects headquarters to get knocked off, do they? No one’ll be in the main building at this time of night, just the squads in the outer buildings. We’ve got the alarm codes, we’ve got recently stolen passes from my trip to HQ Finance to get us in and out, and I’ve got the tools to open the safe in case we can’t find the key.’

  Her middle-aged forehead was still creased, despite my comforting words.

  ‘I’m not sure how I let you talk me into this,’ she muttered, chin almost touching her wrinkled neck.

  ‘Hey, listen,’ I said, moving my hand over to lift her chins up so she was looking me in the eye. ‘This will all be fine. I’m not forcing you to do anything, but if you chicken out on me now, I’m going to be bloody annoyed with you.’

  I tightened my grip on her face enough to let her know what I meant. I saw her eyes widen as I squeezed. She had to understand I wasn’t bluffing.

  ‘Okay, Dane,’ she said without conviction. ‘I’m absolutely petrified; let’s get this over with.’

  ‘We’ll be fine,’ I said as I let go of her and pushed open the car door. ‘We’ll be in and out without anyone even knowing what’s happened.’

  *

  Ten minutes later we were creeping though the fields at the back of headquarters, watched by Riverstone’s wildlife. I was grateful that it was a cloudy night, with little moonlight to illuminate us as we traipsed across the mud and fox shit to get to our location.

  When we reached the wire fence that ran across the back of the perimeter, I hesitated, not sure whether to cut a hole in it as I’d intended or to pull the fence up where something had clearly been digging itself a pathway.

  ‘I think we can crawl under,’ whispered Sophia, echoing my own thoughts.

  I grabbed the bottom of the wire fence with both hands and pulled. It came away from the concrete post with ease.

  I couldn’t help but laugh at my good fortune. I’d always known that budget cuts would be a blessing.

  I dropped down to the ground, shoving the holdalls in front of me, wiggled in on my belly and waited for Sophia to do the same. We had chosen a spot to the side of the sports field, so we wouldn’t be seen by anyone glancing out of the window in the dead of night. Headquarters had offices overlooking our entry point, though I didn’t reckon many people would still be at work at two in the morning, and if they were, they were unlikely to either be staring out of the window, or able to see hundreds of yards in the pitch-black.

  We stuck to the side of the field that was secluded by trees and bushes, making slow but steady progress until we reached the beginning of the car park. This was the most worrying part. Other than the holdalls, we could be two detectives returning to headquarters after a late finish, there was nothing out of the ordinary about that.

  What made us conspicuous was our gloves, black clothing complete with hoods, and bag of tools for breaking and entering.

  The route we had to take was one we had worked out around the motion sensors and live cameras.

  Taking a deep breath, adrenalin through the roof, I stepped out of the shadows, feeling Sophia do the same. This was the part that carried the most risk.

  For about ten seconds, as we made our way across the tarmac, we were completely exposed.

  It was exhilarating.

  We reached the first door, a stolen pass card at the ready, which I swiped on the sensor. The catch released and we were in.

  Some of the corridor lights were motion-sensored so we knew they’d come on; I still jolted when the first one lit up the way to the main reception area, fifty yards or so away from the three flights of stairs we needed to climb.

  Keeping to the wall furthest from the front of the building, we made our way along the corridor, getting ever closer to the bottom of the stairs.

  Thanks to yearly fitness tests, neither of us was going to have a problem getting up three flights of stairs in reasonable time.

  We reached the top, having been sure of seeing no one until this point. The landing areas were sealed off on the first and second floors, and even during business hours it was rare to see anyone come or go from these quarters.

  I looked over at Sophia whose face was an absolute picture. She looked absolutely petrified. Crime clearly wasn’t her thing.

  The next part was the easy bit. Once we were inside, it was plain sailing.

  I grinned at Soph as I held some other poor sod’s security access card up against the door swipe. It clicked open.

  I wasn’t expecting to see a light on, but it was only a desk lamp in the far corner that someone had obviously forgotten to switch off before going home at four o’clock. I could picture the fella who sat there, having been here only yesterday watching as he worked away at his keyboard, crunching numbers.

  I walked over to the locked drawer I’d been reliably informed contained the safe key. I didn’t even need to force the lock. A paperclip usually opened standard police pedestal locks without too much fuss. I’d done it many times before and was a little bit sad to think that I wouldn’t be doing it again.

  I supposed I’d soon get over it.

  Sophia stood beside me as I bent down to put the key in the lock of the huge metal safe. The lock released, and I turned the handle.

  Both of us froze as we heard the unmistakable sound of the toilet flushing.

  Panic was only a split second away. I felt it course through me as I watched it run riot across her face.

  I put a finger up to my lips and grabbed her arm with my other hand.

  ‘We have to leave,’ she mouthed at me as I held her arm.

  ‘No, it’s too late.’

  This time, her eyes were as wide as saucers, her face completely grey in the soft light.

  I dragged her over to the far side of the room, close to the number-cruncher’s desk and near to the door he was about to come through.

  I pulled her down to the floor, hidden from view as I heard the sounds of the door being opened.

  With a sigh, he threw himself back down in his chair and began tapping at his keyboard.

  I knew it was now or never. If we ran, he’d be able to call the police and we wouldn’t get out with the holdalls and tools.

  I didn’t want to do it, but I was left with no option.

  Since Christmas 2001 I hadn’t done a job without back-up in my pocket, and today my reinforcement of choice happened to be a socket wrench.

  Whether the screaming came from Sophia, the number-cruncher, myself or was a combination of all three, I couldn’t tell.

  I was up and around the desk, weapon in hand, before I had a chance to change my mind.

  He looked petrified, as of course he had every right to be. I was dressed all in black leaping out at him in the early hours of the morning swinging a wrench at his head.

  A sickening crunch killed the sound in his throat, as I raised my arm to hit him again.

  Momentarily, I couldn’t work out why I wasn’t cracking him across the head for a third time. Then I
realized that this was why I’d always worked alone.

  ‘No,’ shouted Sophia, pulling my arm back, trying to get the wrench off me.

  When she realized I wasn’t going to let it go, she pushed herself between the guy and me.

  ‘For God’s sake,’ she sobbed, ‘stop it, stop it now. You’ll kill him.’

  Sophia reached across the desk to his phone.

  She wasn’t going to stop me now, not after this.

  I smashed the wrench into the phone.

  ‘Don’t fucking think about it,’ I shouted back at her. ‘Get the fucking bags and start filling them.’

  For a second, I thought she was going to cry. Then she backed away with a nod. She was trembling all over. She was now another problem I had no idea how I was going to take care of. I’d use her to get the money out of the building, then worry about the rest later.

  I watched her take a few tentative steps towards the discarded holdalls, then she glanced at me before reaching out to pick one up.

  I suppose I shouldn’t have underestimated her.

  With no prior warning, Sophia ran for the door. I wasn’t even aware there was a big green release button on the inside of the office. I had wrongly assumed that we’d need the pass to get out.

  ‘Fuck,’ I shouted, wavering as to whether I should run after her and bash her head in there and then, or grab some money and run.

  Whatever happened, I wasn’t going to prison now.

  I dropped the wrench, ran over to the safe and started to fill the holdalls.

  Sophia would have to wait.

  Chapter 65

  Sophia ran down the stairs on legs she thought would give out on her at any minute. She felt the bile rising in her throat, unable to believe what she’d just seen. This was beyond anything she had ever wanted to get mixed up in.

  She was only aware she was crying as hard as she was when her vision blurred to the point of her running into a door.

  Somehow, she’d managed to find herself on the ground floor, unable to remember her escape down three flights of stairs. Memory told her there was an emergency exit somewhere near to where she was, as she chugged on, past the conference suite, towards the public meeting room and the canteen.

  This wasn’t the arranged meeting point in case of an emergency abort of the plan, but under the horrendous circumstances, it would have to do.

  She needed to get to a phone. Someone had to help that poor guy in the office with his bashed-in head covered in blood. She’d stood by, frozen to the spot while Dane hit him again and again.

  The emergency-exit light was glowing in the distance at the end of the longest corridor she had ever run down. With outstretched hands, she fumbled for the metal bar to see her to freedom.

  She was through and on to the rear of another building. Surely an emergency exit was supposed to take you to safety, not the back of a building and a car port. The fresh air filled her lungs as she heard the alarm sound, triggered no doubt as she forced open the door and ran towards the front of headquarters.

  Legs aching, chest burning with the surge of adrenalin, forcing her onwards, she ran towards the main road.

  Suddenly, a figure dressed in black, just in her periphery, ran from behind a parked van and grabbed her with both hands, the momentum forcing her knees to buckle. As she tried to scream, a hand clamped across her mouth, and another on her throat, before her head hit the tarmac and she blacked out.

  Chapter 66

  Morning of Tuesday 12 May

  Harry Powell shook his head at the sight of the crime-scene tape all over the front of police headquarters. This was bad, very bad.

  He was feeling his age today more than ever.

  With heavy heart, he got out of the unmarked surveillance car, walked past two surveillance officers dressed in black, seemingly explaining to their guv’nor why they’d thought it necessary to take an unmarked female detective constable to the ground head first, especially one who was wearing a tracker around her ankle so they knew her location at any given moment.

  Harry didn’t stop to talk to them, afraid he might twat them, and made his way over to the ambulance with its rear doors open. He could see two paramedics talking to someone on the trolley, a uniformed officer standing guard close by.

  As one of the paramedics moved aside, Harry saw the deathly pale face of Sophia propped up on the trolley, her eyes shut as her head was examined.

  With a nod at the uniformed officer and a wave of his warrant card, Harry called out, ‘Soph.’

  Her eyes snapped open and instantly filled with tears.

  ‘I’m here, girl,’ he said. ‘I know, I know. It’ll be all right.’

  ‘Sir,’ began the officer who stood between Harry and his responsibility, ‘I really—’

  ‘Yeah,’ sighed Harry. ‘You’re under strict instructions not to let me talk to her. That on?’

  Harry gestured at the body-worn camera strapped to the top of the officer’s stab-proof vest.

  ‘It’s recording, sir, yes.’

  Harry leaned forward, lowered his head so he was looking straight at the lens and said, ‘Detective Constable Sophia Ireland spoke to me yesterday about Dane Hoopman and his plans to break into headquarters to steal money. After he had explained what he was going to do, she called me and told me everything. I passed the information on and I was told by senior officers, who I’m not afraid to name, that she should go with him and take part so we could get him once and for all, along with whoever he’s been working for. Something, I notice, which has failed to happen at this exact moment because someone messed up and he’s legged it. I pointed out that only one evening’s planning was not enough to carry out the research, get officers briefed and in place before he attacked the safe. No one listened to me and my concerns.

  ‘Sophia had absolutely no idea that anyone would be there tonight in the office and that anyone would get hurt.’

  With that, Harry walked away from the camera, and probably from his career.

  Chapter 67

  For the first time in several days, Sean Turner was feeling more optimistic. He was due to meet with Dane in a couple of hours and take all his ill-gotten gains from him, not that Dane knew that. If he told him, he wouldn’t show up. Dane was no fool, yet Turner had backed him into a corner. Caging an animal such as Hoopman wasn’t always a good idea, not unless he was prepared to keep him in that cage.

  For once, Turner had wanted to come alone and deal with Hoopman himself. He’d thought about using Milo or one of the others to accompany him, and then had dismissed the idea. Siphoning a bit of cash off the top would be much easier on his own and he wouldn’t have to pay off the hired help to turn a blind eye.

  Unimpressed that he was having to wait around in a field of all places, with only a cheap Toyota hire car for company, Turner sat back in the driver’s seat, scanning the road for any sign of movement.

  The plan, if everything went well, was for Dane to meet him and hand over half of the money. Turner had other ideas.

  Time was now getting on: the clock on the dash read 4:14 a.m. By now Turner should be heading away from Riverstone, looking to set up shop somewhere else.

  The sun would be up in an hour or so and Turner wanted to be tucked up in a hotel somewhere far away, with a Do Not Disturb sign on the door. Instead he was sitting in a field, waiting for a career criminal and police officer who had ripped off the safe at headquarters.

  That last part made Turner smile.

  Headlights came into view from the direction of Riverstone. Turner sat upright before easing himself out of the car.

  He watched as the approaching car slowed and pulled off the road, now only lit by its sidelights, and coasted to a stop.

  The door clicked open and Dane got out.

  ‘Took your time,’ said Turner, watching Dane’s every move.

  ‘Ran into a spot of bother.’

  Even though he wasn’t in the slightest interested in the answer, Turner felt obliged to say, ‘Wher
e’s the woman?’

  Dane put his hands in his jacket pockets and took a step forward, closing the gap between them considerably.

  ‘Yeah, that was the spot of bother I mentioned.’

  ‘Is she going to cause us a problem?’ asked Turner, also taking a step closer.

  ‘No, she knows better, and she’s as much in the shit as I am, so we can forget about her.’

  ‘You’re trying my patience now, Dane. If she’s not with you, where’s the half of the money she was supposed to be carrying?’

  ‘That’s a bit of an issue.’

  ‘Give me the fucking money, now,’ said Turner. ‘If you haven’t got the two hundred grand you’re supposed to hand over, I’ll be the least of your problems. Understand?’

  Dane held out his hands. ‘Search me, if you like. You won’t find anything else on me, only what’s in the car. And you can have it all. All I want is the passport you promised me.’

  ‘One thing at a time,’ said Turner.

  He pointed a finger in Dane’s face. ‘You were due to do the job at three a.m. You said it’d take no more than half an hour to get in, get out and come and meet me.’

  ‘I’ve told you, there were hold-ups. Now, are we going to do this exchange, or just talk about it?’

  Dane gestured in the direction of his car and walked towards the boot, remotely releasing the catch as he went.

  Keeping a gap between them, Turner fell into step beside him.

  ‘Look, here,’ said Dane as he leaned into the dark boot and unzipped a holdall.

  He plunged a hand inside and pulled out a wad of £50 notes. He held them out for Turner to see in the weak interior boot light.

  Turner moved his head forward, tipping him off-balance enough to slow his reaction to the object looming towards his temple.

  The last thing Turner saw before he lost consciousness was what looked very much like a socket wrench.

  Chapter 68