by Jack Probyn
| EPISODE 2 |
CHAPTER TWO
PROVE YOURSELF
A wall of smoke lingered in front of Danika’s face. The air was still, and the smell of chemicals and tar in the tobacco climbed her nostrils and plunged down her throat. She inhaled hard, her mouth tingling as she absorbed the toxins. She cherished the taste, the feeling, the relaxing sensation the cigarette incited every time she took a drag. It helped vacate her mind and offered a momentary release from the angst and stress of everyday life. She wanted more but knew she couldn’t. Her husband would be able to smell it on her when she got home. No matter how much perfume she applied, the smell and taste lingered like burning rubber. And the less ammunition she gave him to use against her, the better.
The building’s wooden double doors opened beside her, and another member of MCT appeared. He was handsome – his cheekbones prominent on his face and his jawline chiselled. He was dressed in a waistcoat with his tie tucked just beneath the buttons, and his navy shirt hugged the contours of his shoulders and arms. It was clear to see that he was in good physical shape. A man who took care of himself. A man who could protect any woman that he was with, given any situation. His only obvious flaw was the receding hairline that looked as if it were running away from his eyebrows.
The man reached into his pocket, produced a cigarette and placed it in his mouth. It dangled there as he frisked his chest and thigh pockets.
‘Don’t suppose I could borrow your lighter, do you?’ he asked. ‘Sorry. I left mine at my desk.’
Saying nothing, still reeling in the euphoria from her last hit, Danika reached into her pocket and pulled out a lighter. She ignited the flint and held the flame beneath the man’s cigarette. He inhaled and an orange glow emanated from the end.
‘Fourth one of the day, and it’s not even noon,’ he said, ejecting a cloud of smoke in the air. As he did so, the wind picked it up and wafted it into Danika’s face. Two for the price of one. ‘How many you on this morning?’
‘Just the one.’
‘Good. If Pemberton saw, she’d kill you. Hates fag breaks. But I’m a little more lenient. Can’t blame her, really. Filthy habit. I’ve been meaning to quit. It’s on my to-do list.’
‘It is for everyone, no?’
‘I like to think so.’ He smiled at her and extended his hand. ‘Mark Murphy. Detective Inspector.’
‘Danika,’ she replied, taking his hand. If there was ever any doubt about his manliness, the strength in his grip eradicated it. ‘Temporary Detective Constable. I am in training.’
‘That’s right. I saw your name on the attendance list this morning. How did the witness statements go just now? Get some solid reports?’
‘Good,’ she replied. ‘They did not tell us anything new though, which was a shame.’
‘That’s not always a bad thing. Means that the rest of us are doing our jobs properly.’
‘Although, I’m almost certain that they were having an affair,’ Danika said. ‘The way they spoke about one another. Especially if all she was trying to do was to sell him a ring.’
‘You can tell all of that by the way someone talks about another person?’
Danika shrugged. ‘And the way they looked at one another in the corridor.’ She flicked her eyes towards him.
‘Be careful throwing allegations around the place. Some people don’t take too kindly to them.’
‘Forgive me. I am still learning.’
Mark chuckled, took another drag of the cigarette and said, ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone turn up to the office as early as you did.’
‘What can I say? I am keen.’
‘Suppose you’ve got to make a good first impression… but then there’s your level of keen.’
‘I was raised that way. My parents always told me that the best thing you can do every day is show up. No matter the occasion. No matter the circumstance.’
‘Your parents did a good job.’
‘It is easy to do if it is something you’re passionate about.’
‘And are you passionate?’
Danika retreated a little. In those four words he had been able to disarm her entirely. It was difficult to explain, but she felt very open, exposed, as if this man she’d only just met knew her deepest, darkest secrets.
‘I’m a good judge of character,’ Mark continued. ‘And I’ve been watching you. Aside from speaking with the two witnesses, you’ve hardly spoken or interacted with anyone since you got here…’
Mark let his sentence hang in the air, and Danika hated him for it. He was right – she hadn’t spoken directly to anyone in the office other than Jake and Pemberton, except for the monosyllabic responses she had given DC Johnson as they were sitting down in the interview room. The truth was, she didn’t feel comfortable. She was nervous around people she didn’t know. Especially at first. The awkward small talk. The sharing of life stories. How she would have to pretend that everything was OK. That her job – the one thing she loved second to her family – wasn’t beginning to get in the way of what was in first position.
‘I’ve been busy,’ she lied.
‘Well I’ve got plenty more things for you to be doing if you run out. If nothing else, this’ll be perfect experience for you. How long have you been with the service?’
‘Five years.’ Danika took another drag of her cigarette, realised she’d finished it and lit another one. She hoped it would ease the pain of the obligatory small talk.
‘I can tell it’s going to be a busy day,’ Mark said, nodding to the second stick she’d just sparked. ‘What made you get into it?’
‘My parents smoked.’
‘No… I meant the police. How did you become an officer?’
‘It’s a long story.’
‘Smoking can take a long time. And Pemberton’s not here. She left me in charge of you, told me to make sure someone’s looking out for you…’
Danika sighed before replying. She didn’t want to tell this stranger anything personal about herself, but she also didn’t want to come across as a rude and obnoxious bitch – she needed to make a good first impression. Besides, he was the only one in the squad who had acknowledged her existence – the rest of the team saw her as a burden, she was sure.
‘My husband,’ she began, ‘he was a police officer. He joined when he left school. I met him a few years later. We worked together. Started a family together. A year after our kids were born, he was involved in an incident. Somebody threw him from the top of a building. Broke both his legs. He was forced to medically retire. He’s been looking after the kids ever since.’
‘That’s heavy. I’m sorry.’
‘You asked.’
A moment of silence washed over them. Danika enjoyed it. She relaxed in it. But Mark… well, it was clear to see he was hating every second. She sensed from his body language – his posture, his eyes, his mouth – that he had an arsenal of questions he wanted to fire at her.
He fired the first shot from the barrel.
‘What about this Tanner guy? What’s the low-down on him?’
‘We came from the same borough.’
‘You two close?’
‘Pretty close, yeah. He tells me things. I tell him things.’
‘How long’s he been with us?’
‘A couple of years, I think, no?’ Danika shrugged and took another, longer, more satisfying drag of her cigarette. ‘I forget exactly, but not many.’
‘How does that work, then? Five years versus a few? You’ve been serving longer, and yet he’s out there…’
She shrugged again. ‘It is what it is.’
‘Listen,’ Mark began, turning to face her. She hadn’t realised it, but he’d nearly finished his cigarette. ‘I don’t know what sort of stuff you’ve got going on at home. Maybe it’s not my place to know. But you shouldn’t let that – or what Tanner’s doing out there on the road right now – stop you from excelling here, all right? You’ve got an opportunity to prove yourself. Learn
all you can from it. The biggest criminals we’ve had in the country for a long, long time are on our doorstep. This is the most serious case I’ve ever worked on, and if you’re considering taking the role further, there’s no better time to prove yourself. And, hey, if you need someone to talk to up there, at least you’ve got a friendly face you can put a name to.’
Mark stubbed out the end of his cigarette on the metal ashtray screwed into the wall. ‘It’s something to think about. I’ll see you up there.’
| EPISODE 2 |
CHAPTER THREE
CRICKET
‘I’m sorry, Jake, but you’re going to have to wait,’ Pemberton told him. ‘Nobody can do anything until the bomb squad arrive. I’m sorry, but this is a very delicate situation. I’ve never experienced anything like this in my career, and I need to come up with a strategy to work out how we’re going to get her out her out of this device.’ She paused a beat. ‘I know you want to help her – and trust me, I do too – but we need to think about this calmly and logically. There’s no guarantee that the device around her neck doesn’t contain an explosive inside it that, when provoked, could kill all of us. It’s too much of a risk.’
‘OK,’ he conceded, lowering his head. Perhaps he was going to learn more from her than he’d thought. On several occasions, at the beginning of his career as a bobby on the beat in the heart of London, he’d acted too rashly, too hastily, giving no second thought to his actions. In most cases, it had been to the detriment of the emergency call he was responding to. He’d been too excitable, too energetic. He wanted to help everyone and do everything he could to help them, even though he knew that wasn’t always possible. He was the first to admit that it was one of his flaws as well as one of his immutable strengths.
After a few seconds of thought, he returned his gaze to Pemberton, and asked, ‘So, what do you suggest?’
‘I don’t know. I need time.’
That’s not a luxury we can afford, he thought, deciding to keep it in his head rather than voicing it aloud.
He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, then closed his eyes and suspended himself in a state of reflection. He considered – hard. About Candice, what she must be going through, standing there waiting, with the time bomb ticking down inches from her chest and neck. About how they needed to find the instruction sheet if they were going to stand any chance of saving her.
And then he had it, the seed of an idea.
Jake reached into his pocket and removed his phone.
‘What are you doing?’ Pemberton asked as he unlocked it and opened the camera.
‘Candice can get it herself. She can use my camera to record the inside of the house. We’ll see what we’re dealing with and she’ll be able to get the instructions.’
‘I don’t think that’s going to—’
‘Candice knows where the instructions are. And the property’s been cleared by the firearms team. The more time we spend out here, the less time we have to find those keys and save her.’
Pemberton considered for a moment, sighed and then nodded in acknowledgement. ‘How do you propose we deliver it to her?’
‘I was good at cricket at school…’
‘Has nobody got a chest cam?’ Pemberton looked around her. The armed officers hadn’t returned from securing the rest of the property, and the remaining emergency response units who had accompanied them to Candice’s house were either setting up a perimeter further up the street or searching for the missing man who had been abducted. Jake didn’t envy that job. He’d done it for long enough, and now it was time for a change in his career. This was it.
‘I’m happy to sacrifice the phone,’ Jake said.
‘Someone must have a chest cam we can use around here instead?’ Bridger repeated, surprising Jake. He’d been so quiet that Jake had forgotten he was still present.
‘Like I said, I’m happy to sacrifice the phone. It serves the same purpose as the chest cam. This way we can monitor the inside of the property and her movements. She only needs to find the instructions, and then the rest of the work we can do ourselves.’
Bridger said nothing. His expression dropped and he scowled at Jake. It wasn’t the first time that the senior officer had treated him with contempt, and Jake assumed it wouldn’t be the last. He didn’t care though. His main priority was Candice’s safety and making sure she got out of there alive.
‘Come on, stop talking about it and start doing it.’
Without warning, Pemberton snatched Jake’s phone from him, called over the police dog, and strapped the phone to the animal’s back. Just as she was about to finish, she remembered something. Then she removed the hairband from her wrist and wrapped it around the phone. As soon as the device was safely fastened in, the handler gave the order, and the dog hurried towards Candice. Using the radio, Pemberton explained to her what was going to happen next.
‘Are you recording?’ she asked.
‘Yes,’ Candice replied after having a check of the phone.
‘And you know what to do?’
‘Yes.’
‘Repeat it back to me.’
‘Find the instructions. Bring them back.’
‘One more thing,’ Pemberton said. ‘Use the hairband to wrap the instructions around the phone.’
Pemberton finished and stepped backwards. Candice clutched the phone against her chest and disappeared into the mansion without saying anything. She ran off in such a way that, for a moment, Jake wondered if he would ever see the phone again.
| EPISODE 2 |
CHAPTER FOUR
BARGAINS
Candice’s pulse was pounding as she bounded up the stairs, clutching the phone against her stomach. It clanged against the collar bomb, sending a pang of fear up her body every time she heard it, but she carried on regardless.
She reached the top of the stairs and headed into the master bedroom, then paused.
The key.
For a split second she forgot what she was looking for and moved towards the wardrobe again, desperate to find one of the four items that would save her. She dropped the police officer’s phone to the carpet by the foot of the bed. It bounced and landed just underneath a wooden dresser on the right-hand side of the room. She tore everything apart again, this time hoping the key would appear in a place she had seemingly overlooked. But there was still nothing. You son of a bitch! She threw a pair of shoes against the wall, narrowly avoiding a floor-to-ceiling mirror. Where are you?
Why couldn’t she find it? It was supposed to be there. She was sure of it. They had told her so. They had told her it would be easy to find. Or was she just inept? No… they had hidden it too well. That was it. Unless they had lied to her and hadn’t hidden it at all? Candice dismissed the thought immediately. It would do her no good to think such things.
A voice called her name from outside, telling her to hurry. She was running out of time, and the police were growing impatient – she didn’t want to give them any reason to suspect her of anything. She wanted to be cooperative, to give them the help they needed to save her. And if she did anything to the detriment of that goal, then she would never be able to forgive herself. Focus, she told herself. She had a job to do. And so did they. They were going to find the keys for her – all of them. Of course they would.
Candice grabbed the note from where she’d dropped it earlier by the entrance to the walk-in wardrobe, picked up the officer’s phone and exited the master bedroom, rushing along the landing and back down the stairs.
As she reached the bottom of the staircase, she wrapped the paper round the phone and tightened it with the hairband.
‘I found it!’ she said, elated. Her body tingled. Perhaps it was incipient hope, or perhaps it was adrenaline. She didn’t know. But, either way, she didn’t want it to be replaced with the sense of dread that she had grown accustomed to in the past ten minutes.
‘Place the phone and the instructions on the dog’s back, Candice. But remember to stay exactly where you
are,’ the female officer replied. She was the one in charge. Candice did as instructed.
She bent down by the panting dog’s side, attached the mobile to the animal, and fought off the urge to stroke it. It was crazy how, despite the situation, there was something comforting about the dog that made her forget about what was happening to her. It put her at ease and made her feel calm. All she wanted to do was stroke its fur and play with it. But she knew that wouldn’t be possible. Soon, she told herself. Soon. It was the little glimpse of hope she needed to help her get through it.
Bringing herself out of her trance, Candice gave the all clear, and the dog bounded towards the officers. She squirmed in celebration as the dog skidded to a halt on the gravel. Now she was one step closer to getting out of the collar bomb; she had kept her end of the bargain, now it was their turn.
All she could do was wait.
| EPISODE 2 |
CHAPTER FIVE
BRIGHT IDEAS
Jake seized the note, photographed it and placed it in an evidence bag. As he stared at the image on his screen and read the note, the words filled him with fear. A sensation that made him want to run up to Candice and begin to saw the collar bomb free from her neck. A sensation that also made him want to run away and not have to deal with what lay before him at the same time. But he needed to remain cool and think logically – like Pemberton – if he was going to stand any chance of making today a success. He didn’t want a dead person’s blood on his hands after his first-ever case with Surrey Police. He was sure it wouldn’t bode well for the rest of his career.
‘Jesus Christ,’ Jake said aloud without realising. He lowered his arm and handed the instructions to Pemberton, who continued reading. She was the type of reader who ran her finger along the line to help keep track of where she was on the page, and she was taking an age to finish.