by Jack Probyn
Luke leant into the man, jabbed him in the stomach and caught a left hook with his fist. With one clean hit, the man fell to the ground. While he rolled on the floor, holding his face, groaning, moaning, screaming in pain, Luke fumbled for the keys inside his shorts’ pockets. The man made a poor attempt at defending himself, but it was immediately stifled as soon as Luke flexed the Uzi. As he hurried back to the car, Luke barked at Michael to change the number plates of the Audi.
Luke dived into the vehicle and threw the keys in the ignition, slamming his foot down on the accelerator as it sprung to life. A few seconds later, Danny leapt in, and then Michael. The plates were changed. They were all together. And they in ready to go.
Cheers erupted and Luke slammed his hands on the wheel and dashboard as he merged back onto the A3.
‘Fucking excellent, Lukey Boy!’ Danny said, slapping him on the back.
‘Job well done, son,’ Michael echoed.
‘For a moment then, I didn’t think you’d pull it off,’ Danny added. ‘But you did good, kid. You did good.’
| EPISODE 2 |
CHAPTER NINE
FORTUNATE DISCOVERY
‘That’s it. Right there. Keep your arms high in the air for me, Candice. Don’t move any further.’ Pemberton gave the final order for Candice to stay exactly where she was in the centre of her acre-long garden. Fifty feet separated them from one another. ‘My colleague, DC Tanner, is going to see if he can find the key for you. Is there anything you haven’t told us that he might need to know before he goes in?’
Candice frantically shook her head.
‘Jake,’ Pemberton said to him, keeping her voice low, ‘get inside there now. I’ll stay here and send Bridger in when he gets back from whatever he seems to be doing.’
At that, as if on cue, Bridger returned, breathless and exasperated.
‘Sorry, guv,’ he began, his voice raspy. ‘I couldn’t find you.’
‘It’s not like we disappeared off to the Isle of Wight!’ Pemberton snapped.
‘Forensics are less than five minutes away. EOD ten.’
‘You’d both better hurry then.’
‘Why?’ Bridger asked.
‘The keys won’t find themselves.’
Jake elected himself to go first and hurried to Pemberton’s car at the end of the driveway. There, he dressed himself in his second full forensic suit of the day. The texture felt soft over his skin, but he knew that in a few minutes his hands would be slick with sweat. As he pulled the overshoes over his feet, Bridger arrived beside him.
‘We should wear these as well,’ Bridger said, holding a set of body cams in his hands.
Now we have a pair, Jake thought as he struggled to stop himself from rolling his eyes. He took one from his senior and strapped himself in. Once they were ready, they sauntered across the gravel carefully, paying close to attention to the area where Candice had been stationed, and entered the through the front door. The splendour of the mansion took Jake by surprise and forced him to stop. He’d never set foot in a house as magnificent as this. Sure, he’d seen photos of them online – when he and Elizabeth played House Roulette, a fun game they’d created when they were bored one afternoon to see who could find the nicest house on Zoopla or Rightmove in their local area – but there was only so much that images could convey.
A glass chandelier dangled from the ceiling only inches from his head. To his left was a door that led into a living room; to his right, the dining room. Ahead lay the kitchen. The marble surface looked like something from a sci-fi film – even with the pile of vomit splashed across it. Great wooden beams ran up the length of the walls, and the staircase to his left spiralled to the first floor.
Jake snapped himself back to the present. There was no time to stand and admire the property. He had a life to save.
‘Come on,’ he called, pointing at the stairs. ‘This way!’
Jake leapt up them, two at a time, rapidly increasing the gap between him and Bridger so Jake was first to the top. A minor victory.
‘Do you know what we’re looking for?’ Bridger asked.
‘A key.’
‘I know that. But what type of key?’
Jake shot him a derisive look. ‘What type of key do you think? One that opens locks.’
‘Shut up, Tanner. I meant is it a small one? Large? Long head? Short?’
Jake shrugged.
‘Where is it?’
‘If we knew that, we wouldn’t be looking for it, would we?’ Jake said, wishing he hadn’t. It had been a Freudian slip, one that he regretted almost instantly. As he was getting older and more experienced in the police force, with the hierarchies and the internal structures within the teams he was working with, he realised he was more susceptible to small sarcastic comments accidentally slipping off his tongue.
As soon as Jake said it, Bridger grabbed him by the shoulder and pushed him back against the wooden banister. The wood creaked and bowed under his weight. Double his size and slightly taller, Bridger leant into him, pressing his body against Jake’s and forcing him to arch his back over the edge. They were face to face, mere centimetres separating them. A concoction of smells assaulted Jake’s senses: the lingering remains of aftershave, the stink of stale coffee on his breath and the faint chemical smell of bleach on Bridger’s hands.
‘Listen, mate. I don’t know who you think you are, but you need to remember who you’re in the company of. I’m your senior, so you can put your ego aside and stop your little power trip, all right? Just because you’re getting excited like a little schoolgirl about your first-ever case with us doesn’t make you the fucking Chief Constable, OK? Just because you’ve come from a strong operational background – or so they tell me – it doesn’t mean you get to boss the orders around, all right?’
Pieces of spittle landed on Jake’s mouth and cheek as Bridger shouted in his face. Jake didn’t know what was worse: the fact that he’d just been verbally assaulted by a senior officer, or that he had let his mind speak for himself in the first place.
‘I-I’m sorry,’ Jake lied. ‘I’m a naturally sarcastic person.’
That much was true, and it was one of the reasons that he managed to find himself in trouble more often than he’d like. But it was also true that he didn’t like Bridger, and he didn’t want to pretend he did. If the man was prepared to be unprofessional and inappropriate with his behaviour, then so be it. Jake was better than that. And now he had a point to prove.
Jake pointed to the master bedroom over Bridger’s shoulder. ‘If you wouldn’t mind. We’ve still kind of got a job to do.’
The man’s calloused hands tightened around Jake’s shoulders, forcing Jake to acknowledge what he’d just been told. In the end, Jake ceded and nodded.
Slowly, Bridger loosened his grip, shoving Jake into the banister one last time as he did so. He scowled at Jake for a moment longer before turning and heading into the master bedroom. Jake followed and stopped as he crossed the threshold. It was a mess; clothes, hangers, shoe boxes filled with old photographs and footwear littered the floor. If they’d had any chance of finding the key quickly, they were now greatly hindered.
‘I’ll take the bed, you take the wardrobe,’ Jake said, stepping into the room. As soon as he was in, he blocked Bridger from his mind and paid little heed to what the detective sergeant was doing. The more he focused on the task at hand, the greater chance he had of finding the key.
Jake moved towards the bedside table, knelt beside it, yanked the door open and rummaged inside. There he found a small notebook, a Kindle, a jewellery box containing a watch and a cheque book. Disappointed not to find the key on the first attempt, Jake moved to the drawer beneath. Empty. He then moved to the other side of the bed, running his fingers underneath the mattress and duvet, feeling for anything hard and rigid against his skin. Meanwhile, in the corner of his eye, Jake glimpsed Bridger rummaging through the walk-in wardrobe, flinging clothes and shoes onto the carpet.
‘Are yo
u helping or just making more of a mess?’ Jake asked, reaching his hand deep under the mattress.
‘I’m doing my job.’
I’ll believe it when I see it, Jake thought. He reached the other bedside table and sifted through the contents like a fox searching a rubbish bin. It was empty as well. He clenched his fist and scratched his cheek. What if the key wasn’t in the bedroom at all? The note had said where clothes hang to dry after all, and the bedroom didn’t quite fit that description. Then again, what if it was all a ruse? What if they had strapped the collar bomb to her neck knowing that she was doomed to die? What if there was no way they could save her, and they were wasting their time?
Jake dismissed the thought and occupied his mind with something else: the en suite, which was immediately to his right.
He wandered through. In front of him was the bathroom sink and above it was a mirror. The sight of his reflection caught him by surprise and made him jump. His body turned tense and his muscles tightened. He wasn’t sure whether he let out a little gasp, but if so, he hoped that Bridger had been unable to hear it. To the right of the sink was the toilet, and beyond that was the shower. Everything sparkled and shone in the incandescent light overhead. The bathroom shower was pristine, as though it hadn’t been used in years, and the toothbrush holder looked almost brand new. There was a small cabinet hanging on the wall beside a towel rack to the left of the sink, and the faint smell of cleaning chemicals lingered in the air. Everything was clean. Too clean. The rest of the bedroom’s cleanliness didn’t match the bathroom’s. There was a disconnect, almost as if The Crimsons – or Candice – had cleaned the bathroom before leaving it.
Jake approached the cabinet on the wall and held his fingers underneath the handle. His breath steadied, and he inhaled through his nose and out through his mouth.
He pulled.
The cabinet was completely empty, save for two items resting on the middle shelf. A key. The size of his thumb, darkened and rusty. And, lying under it, a note.
Jake felt his entire body relax. He had found it. And he had done it without Bridger’s help. Jake grabbed the key, along with the note, and read silently to himself before calling out to Bridger.
THERE ARE EIGHTEEN HOLES. EACH MORE CHALLENGING THAN THE LAST. ROLL THE DICE AND FIND WHICH ONE, OR THREE, WILL BE THE WINNER.
Jake read through the note a second time, assimilating the information, then paused, his attention gradually pulling away from the paper. Silence echoed around the house, and through the bathroom window, he heard Pemberton and Candice’s distant chatter coming from the garden. Then he heard softened footsteps approaching him.
A second later, Bridger appeared at the door.
‘What are you doing in—’ At the sight of the key in Jake’s hand, Bridger sauntered into the bathroom and took it from him. ‘You found it. Well d— Why didn’t you say anything?’
‘I’ve only just found it.’
Bridger dismissed Jake with a wave of his hand and read the note.
‘Any ideas?’ Jake asked.
‘Don’t take a genius to work it out,’ Bridger said, his Adam’s apple convulsing as he swallowed deeply. ‘You’ll have to remember who we’re dealing with, Tanner. These robbers aren’t the brightest bunch.’
‘Perhaps they’re not worried about making you look intelligent as much as they are about escaping.’ Jake smirked, but he suppressed it instantly at Bridger’s burning gaze.
The senior officer spun on the spot and left the room with the key in his hand.
| EPISODE 2 |
CHAPTER TEN
TIMEPIECE
‘Guv!’ Bridger called, bounding over towards Pemberton. He skidded to a halt by her side and passed her the note.
‘Oh my God! You found it!’ Candice interrupted. At the sight of the key in Bridger’s other hand, she rushed towards the three of them. Her breathing shook with excitement. ‘You found it. You found it. You found the first key.’
Pemberton twisted and held her hands in the air. ‘Get back, Candice. Keep your distance. It’s for your own safety. I don’t want to have to ask you again. We’ll give you this key. But not until the bomb disposal team arrive.’
‘No! You have to give it to me now! Please. We need to find the other ones.’
‘And that’s what we’re going to do. You just have to be patient. We’re not going to make any progress if you keep interrupting us every time we try to do something. Understood?’ Pemberton asked.
Candice said nothing and retreated a few paces.
Pemberton swivelled on the spot and faced Bridger. ‘Get some extra uniform down here. We’re going to need all the help we can get. Especially if she gets carried away with herself.’
‘Yes, guv.’ Bridger nodded and then left.
Pemberton returned her focus to Candice. ‘Candice, I promise you, we will get these keys for you. But we don’t know what condition your collar bomb is in. The instructions say it’s trip-wired – for all we know, as soon as we fit the key inside, it may detonate.’
Candice let out a whimper. It was so visceral and raw it made the hairs on the back of Jake’s neck stand on end. He hated this. What this woman was going through. The nightmare she was facing. And now Pemberton had just landed a truth bomb on her. And he sensed it wouldn’t be the last.
‘It’s fine, Candice,’ he added, hoping to ameliorate the situation somehow. ‘That’s what the explosive experts are for. They’ll confirm there’s nothing wrong with it, and that it’s safe to use the keys.’
‘Why aren’t they here yet? We’ve been waiting ages!’ Candice’s make-up streamed down her face, and as she moved her head, Jake saw the redness on her cheeks and under her eyes from where she’d been rubbing the skin.
‘They’re coming. They’ll be here any minute now,’ Pemberton added, holding her hands in the air. But their attempt to allay Candice’s fears was having little effect. Nothing would do that better than the bomb squad’s arrival. Jake didn’t believe they were nearby, and he was sure neither Candice nor Pemberton believed it either. But until the bomb squad arrived, Jake and Pemberton were going to have to do everything in their power to settle Candice’s nerves.
‘Do you know anything about golf?’ Jake called to her.
Candice hesitated before responding. ‘Only that there are eighteen holes in each game.’
‘Then at least you and I are on the same page.’
‘Is there a golf club nearby?’ Pemberton asked.
Candice nodded and pointed in the opposite direction, towards the sun. ‘That way. About five minutes away. Farnham Golf Club. You can’t miss it. My husband knew the owner back in the day.’
‘Thank you,’ Jake said.
At that moment, Bridger returned, holding his phone in his hand. By now he had removed his latex gloves and had stripped down to his shirt and tie. Behind him was an entourage of scene of crime officers clad in white scrubs, their heads concealed by hoods and protective goggles. Jake didn’t envy them wearing that in this heat. The sun was beating down on his back, warming his blazer and the top of his head.
‘Finally!’ Pemberton exclaimed, marching towards the SOCOs. She made it a few steps before turning and heading back to Jake. She stopped in front of him and placed a hand on his shoulder, then leant closer to his face and brought her voice down to a whisper. ‘I need you to stay here with Candice. Make her feel more comfortable, at ease. Get her talking. But don’t tell her anything she doesn’t need to know. I’ll be back in a minute.’
Before Jake was able to respond, she and Bridger had left him alone with Candice, and he watched them disappear round the other side of the house with the CSIs. For a long moment, Jake just stood there, staring at the building, as though he were a dog pining after its owners, patiently waiting for them to return. He swallowed before adjusting his attention to the garden. The atmosphere was quiet, eerie – the sounds of the driveway muted as if they were coming from miles away – and all he could hear was the rustle of leaves
in the soft breeze that flittered in and around him. Pivoting on the balls of his feet, he faced Candice, his gaze falling on her chest – for the first time, he didn’t feel like a creep for doing it. Before him, a few metres away, was a potentially deadly bomb.
‘How old are you?’ Candice asked.
Her question took him by surprise.
He hesitated, stammered. ‘Twenty-f-four. How old… how old do I look?’
‘You’re young. I didn’t think they’d send someone your age into a job like this.’
‘Sorry?’ Jake lifted his right arm and scratched the side of his cheek.
As he did it, Candice’s eyes widened. ‘My son has that watch,’ she said.
‘Excuse me?’ Jake hovered his arm in front of his face. On his wrist was the watch Elizabeth had bought him for his birthday last year. It had come at great expense given the little finances they had, and he’d begrudged her feeling the pressure to buy him something so nice for something that was over so soon, but he was appreciative nonetheless. It was a G-Shock GLX-5600-1JF. And it was one of his most prized possessions.
‘Your watch. My son has that watch. You wear it on the same arm as him. The right. Few people do. Are you left-handed?’
Jake lowered his arm to his side slowly. The entire conversation confused him.
‘I’m right-handed,’ he corrected. ‘I’m just awkward. I like to wear it on the right side. Always have done.’
‘You look like him.’
Jake held his breath. ‘Like who?’
‘My son.’
‘How old is he?’
‘Similar age to you,’ Candice said. ‘He was taken from me when he was very young. Social services.’
Jake didn’t know what to say. In the end, he settled on the only thing his instinct would allow. ‘I’m sorry to hear that.’
‘You’re going to get me out of this, aren’t you, detective?’