by Helen Harper
‘Money,’ I agreed, ‘with a good dose of power thrown in.’ I turned to the closed door that led to the interview room. ‘And perhaps revenge, too.’
‘Huh?’
‘What’s going on here, Emma?’ Lukas asked.
‘You’re about to find out.’ I hoped. ‘Can you do me a favour first though?’
He folded his arms. ‘Go on.’
‘Get some of your vamps out here to sweep the nearby streets. And perhaps the rooftops opposite as well.’
‘Emma…’
‘Please?’
His eyes searched my face. ‘Very well,’ he said finally. ‘The detective’s wish is my command.’
I kissed him quickly on the cheek. It was highly inappropriate – the expressions on Liza and Fred’s faces confirmed that. Lukas, however, curled a hand round my waist and squeezed it tight. ‘I’m looking forward to finding out what’s really going on here,’ he murmured in my ear.
‘Believe me,’ I replied, feeling the beat of his heart as his body connected with mine, ‘it’s quite a story.’
Chapter Twenty-Six
Fred and I took up our positions in the interview room and set up the preliminaries. Esmeralda Strom sat opposite us, her spine stiff and unyielding.
‘I don’t know why I’m here. I’m starting to feel like you think I’m some sort of criminal,’ she said. She gave a high-pitched titter, as if to suggest that the very idea was preposterous. She wasn’t nervous, not yet. But she was worried.
‘This won’t take long,’ I said. ‘We only have a few questions. You’re an important witness to what happened at the bank.’
‘I already told you. I didn’t see anything.’
I nodded. ‘Mmm-hmm.’ I gazed at her. And then I remembered what my uncle had said, and his complaint about the way he was treated because of his age. I looked at Esmeralda more closely. She wasn’t as old as she’d appeared at first glance, but adopting a patronising edge might work.
I raised my voice, implying that she was slightly hard of hearing, and tried to look sympathetic. ‘I don’t suppose you have very good eyesight at your age,’ I said.
She bristled. ‘There’s nothing wrong with my eyesight!’
‘That’s good to know,’ I soothed. I paused, and then, as if it had only just occurred to me, said, ‘Are you comfortable there? Would you like a cushion?’
Her brows snapped together. ‘Do you offer everyone you question a cushion?’
‘I’m not sure what you mean, Mrs Strom,’ I said. ‘I’m merely trying to ensure that we meet your needs.’
She couldn’t prevent an irritated scowl flashing across her face. A flicker of satisfaction ran through me. As long as I could force her emotions to the fore, she’d be off-balance. I might even provoke her into telling me the whole truth.
‘So,’ I leaned forward, ‘I understand that your husband worked at the Talismanic Bank until his death in November of last year. Is that correct?’
She nodded abruptly.
‘If you could speak aloud,’ I said. ‘For the purposes of the tape.’
‘Yes.’
‘I’m very sorry to hear about his passing. Is it unusual for a goblin and a pixie to maintain a long-term relationship?’
‘It was more than a relationship,’ she snapped. ‘We were married. And, yes, I suppose it’s unusual, but only because there aren’t that many goblins or pixies.’ Her lip curled. ‘As a member of Supernatural Squad, I’d have expected you to know that already.’
I gave a gentle smile to indicate that I was both patient and kind despite her cantankerous nature, and I looked at her as you might look at a new-born baby. Or a puppy. It worked, and she glowered even more.
‘I’m quite new to this position,’ I told her. ‘And I’m only young. I still have a lot to learn.’
She folded her arms and the sleeves of her dress rode up. ‘Clearly. Why are you asking about Boswell? I thought this was about the bank robbery.’
‘All in good time, Mrs Strom.’ I glanced at her bare arms, noting the red marks on her elbows. ‘Have you injured yourself recently?’
‘What? No.’ She looked down and, realising what I was looking at, immediately dropped her arms so that her sleeves covered her elbows again. ‘I have eczema.’
I didn’t know a lot about eczema but it seemed highly unlikely that it only affected elbows. Then again, if someone were to spend a lot of time lying down with their elbows propped up on the ground or the floor while they gazed through a sniper’s scope, they might well get those sorts of marks.
‘Mrs Strom,’ I said, ‘do you have any experience with guns?’ Even Fred jerked at that question.
Esmeralda stared at me. ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ she sniffed. ‘What would I want with guns?’
I made a mark on the clipboard in front of me. ‘So if we contacted local gun clubs, they would have no record of you making any visits?’
She didn’t answer but her skin paled.
‘Mrs Strom?’
‘No comment.’
‘I see.’ I made another mark. ‘And if we search your house, we’ll find no evidence of any guns inside it?’
She pinned her mouth closed.
‘No high-powered rifles with scopes?’
She didn’t move.
‘No ammunition that a skilled sniper might use?’
Her mouth twitched but she stayed silent.
Very well. I tried another tack. ‘You don’t like the Talismanic Bank, do you?’
This time she spoke, tension layering every word. ‘I don’t see what that has to do with anything. At this particular moment I don’t like you very much, either. It doesn’t mean I’m about to attack you.’
‘Mmm.’ I looked up from the clipboard. ‘Why don’t you like the bank?’
‘Because they worked my husband to the bone. He was there right up until the day he died. He should have retired long ago.’
‘They didn’t prevent him from retiring, though, did they? Didn’t Mosburn Pralk encourage your husband to retire and he refused?’
Esmeralda looked away.
‘Mrs Strom,’ I persisted, ‘were you jealous of the bank?’
She rolled her tongue around her mouth. Her lips were thin and pursed and I sensed a deep rage simmering within her. ‘I would like legal representation now,’ she said, enunciating her words very clearly.
I shrugged. ‘Very well.’ I turned my head to Fred but kept my eyes on Esmeralda to gauge her reaction. ‘Can you make all the necessary arrangements while I prep for the interview with Adam Jones?’
Fred knew that Jones wasn’t anywhere near here. He was, however, smart enough to play along. ‘Yes, ma’am.’ Esmeralda remained mute but I was sure that her body had stiffened slightly at the mention of Adam’s name.
I tapped my mouth. ‘While we wait for your solicitor to arrive, Mrs Strom, I wonder if I might prevail upon to take part in an identification parade?’
She didn’t say anything.
I sighed and stood up, walked to the door and placed my hand on the handle. ‘You know,’ I said aloud, ‘leniency is more likely when criminals admit to what they’ve done. There are always deals to be made.’
Esmeralda Strom still didn’t speak. I cursed inwardly and left.
***
I took a sip of my lukewarm coffee, aware that everyone’s eyes were on me. ‘She might not be admitting to anything yet,’ I said, ‘but I’m convinced that she’s the fourth member of the gang. She’s probably the one who hired the others. And she’s definitely the most dangerous of them all. We have her, though. And we have Adam Jones, who can identify her.’
‘Except,’ Lukas pointed out, his arms folded across his broad chest, ‘we don’t have the three humans who carried out the heist. Nor do we have the safety deposit boxes which were stolen.’
I gazed at him briefly then my eyes slid away. ‘No. We don’t have any of that,’ I admitted. I put my mug on the table as the doorbell rang.
Liz
a got to her feet and went to answer it.
I sucked on my bottom lip. ‘Something else is going on here,’ I muttered. ‘Something’s not right.’ I frowned as I tried to connect the dots. The same nebulous unease that had bothered me in the bank and led me to Esmeralda was still bothering me now.
Liza’s heels clicked as she returned. ‘Esmeralda Strom’s solicitor is here. I’ve shown him into the interview room so they can talk.’
I frowned. ‘That was fast.’
Fred, who had been quiet up to that point, widened his eyes. ‘Er…’ He scratched his head and looked awkward.
‘What is it?’
He flushed. ‘I’ve not actually called the duty solicitor yet. Unless Mrs Strom has called someone herself, then…’
My blood chilled. What if that wasn’t a solicitor in there at all? What if …? I sprang up and sprinted out of the room and down the corridor, flinging open the interview room door. Esmeralda and the small figure seated opposite her looked up.
‘This is outrageous!’
I stared at the gremlin. He stalked toward me and placed his hands on hips. He barely reached my tummy button but that didn’t mean he wasn’t intimidating. His sharp grey eyes, furious voice and aggressive stance more than made up for his short stature. I looked him up and down, taking in his pointed ears, folds of skin and neatly tailored suit. On the table behind him sat an open briefcase full of papers. The only weapon he appeared to have on him was an old-fashioned fountain pen – but I wasn’t taking any chances.
‘Any conversations I have with my client are confidential!’ he spat. ‘You have no right to barge in here like this.’
Maybe I was in the wrong but I wasn’t going to back down. Not yet. ‘I want to see some identification.’
The gremlin rolled his eyes melodramatically. ‘Phileas Carmichael, Esquire.’ He reached into his pocket and I tensed, but all he drew out was a slim wallet. He produced an ID card with his name and profession on it.
‘Who called you here?’ I demanded.
‘I don’t have to tell you that.’ He sniffed. ‘I’ve been hired on Mrs Strom’s behalf. I have a legal right to speak to her alone.’ The challenge in his stormy gaze was obvious. ‘You are breaking the law, detective.’
I glanced at Esmeralda. She appeared vaguely amused and raised an eyebrow at me. Clearly, her imminent safety wasn’t being compromised in any way. I grimaced and stepped back. ‘I apologise. I’ll leave you in peace,’ I bit out.
‘Next time,’ Carmichael hissed, ‘knock and wait!’
I left without saying another word.
Lukas was standing in the corridor, watching me.
‘Phileas Carmicheal,’ I said. ‘A gremlin. Do you know him?’
He tensed. ‘I do. He’s expensive – and very skilled. He represents clients in private supe matters, as well as humans in the human courts. He knows his stuff. And he’s no ambulance chaser.’
‘Someone called him here on Esmeralda Strom’s behalf but he won’t say who.’ The niggling worry that had been bothering me began to coalesce. I sucked in a breath then strode into the main office and pulled out my phone. By now, I knew the number off by heart.
‘You’ve reached the Talismanic Bank. I understand that you may be concerned after today’s events but—’
I interrupted Mista Tio. ‘I’m not an angry account holder. This is DC Bellamy. I need to speak to Mosburn Pralk right away.’
She didn’t hesitate. ‘One moment, detective.’
Lucas, Fred and Liza were watching me. Fred opened his mouth to say something but I put my finger to my lips and hushed him. Pralk’s voice filled the line. ‘What is it? What have you found?’
‘There’s something I need to know, Mr Pralk.’
‘Go on.’
I ran my tongue across my teeth. ‘Boswell Strom,’ I said.
‘What about him?’
‘Would he have had access to the safety deposit box records?’
He didn’t answer.
‘Mr Pralk—’
‘I don’t like what you’re implying. Besides, the man is dead. I fail to see…’
‘We’re investigating a theory that Boswell Strom might have told his wife about the boxes, or she might have got information from him without him realising.’
The goblin sucked in a breath. ‘I suppose it’s possible.’
‘Boswell could have seen the records? He might have known which box belonged to whom?’
‘Yes.’ Pralk’s response was grudging.
I thought of something else and hung up without saying farewell. My eyes snapped to Lukas.
‘What?’ he asked softly. ‘What is it?’
‘You had three boxes at the Talismanic Bank. You must have had two of them for some time, but the third one is new. You must have opened it recently because it contains information about me. You were planning to give me the key.’
Lukas didn’t blink. ‘How do you know that, Emma?’ He pushed himself off the desk he was leaning against and walked towards me. ‘How on earth do you know that?’
‘When did you open the third safety deposit box, Lukas?’ I pressed.
He gazed at me. ‘Three months ago. I opened it at the beginning of March, not long after I met you.’
‘Boswell Strom died in November. Even if he told Esmeralda who owned which box, he wouldn’t have known about that last one.’ I moved to the window and looked at the rooftops on the opposite side of the street. ‘Esmeralda Strom must have shot Adam Jones outside the Talismanic Bank,’ I said to myself.
‘Adam Jones is in custody at CID,’ Lukas said. ‘Alive and kicking.’
‘Yes.’ I nodded. ‘He is. She must have been the one who shot you from the hotel as well.’
‘You’ve been shot, Lord Hovarth?’ Fred exclaimed.
‘Emma,’ Liza said nervously, ‘perhaps you ought to go and lie down for a while.’
I tapped at the glass. ‘She’s not as old as she looks but she’s pushing seventy,’ I murmured. ‘Could she really have clambered up to those rooftops to kill Adam Jones the third time around? The first shot from there missed – it hit the wall. It was the second shot that hit Adam. On Westminster Bridge, she shot three people dead with three shots from an even greater distance – but here she missed when she was much nearer. It took two shots to kill one person. The only explanation is that on that occasion it wasn’t her. Esmeralda Strom is in league with the bank robbers and she might have hired them, but there’s someone else – and that someone else has hired Phileas Carmicheal on her behalf. They’re terrified she’ll spill the beans.’
Lukas moved up beside me. ‘You’re babbling, Emma. You’re not making any sense.’
I tilted my head up to his. ‘You have a birthmark,’ I told him. ‘On the inside of your thigh.’ I smiled. ‘It’s shaped like a heart.’
His jaw slackened.
I headed for the door. ‘I have to talk to Adam Jones again. He might know more about the fifth person. I can get him to confirm Esmeralda’s identity at the same time.’
‘Boss…’ Fred looked at me as if he were afraid he’d have to call a hospital and get me committed. So did Liza.
I waved at them reassuringly. ‘Don’t worry. I’ve got this. And I’m not crazy!’
As I left, I heard Liza’s mutter, ‘Emma, you’re completely stone-cold nuts.’
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Lukas folded himself into Tallulah’s passenger seat, obviously unwilling to let me go anywhere on my own. I didn’t argue; I preferred to have him by my side. I turned on the engine and put the car into gear while Max doffed his hat. I acknowledged the doorman with a wave and pulled away from the pavement.
‘I understand you have a lot of questions,’ I said. I kept my eyes on the road but I could feel Lukas’s eyes burning into me.
‘D’Artagnan,’ he said, ‘you have no idea.’
‘Okay.’ I drew in a breath. ‘In a nutshell, I’ve been re-living the same twelve-hour period. This is my f
ourth time dealing with the bank robbery, so obviously I know things that no one else does. I won’t get another chance to solve it after today. This will be the last re-set.’
He didn’t say anything.
‘Groundhog Day,’ I told him. ‘I took a weird potion on a desperate whim and now I’m living Groundhog Day.’ And then I said, ‘Last time you believed me.’
‘Last time.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Okay. I’m not saying I don’t believe you. I’m simply trying to … get my head around the idea.’ He continued to watch me. ‘Is that why you’re holding your shoulder awkwardly? You’ve obviously injured it.’
‘I got shot the second time around. It’s not serious, just … a bit sore. Unlike when I die, any wounds I receive don’t re-set themselves.’
He was silent for a moment, then he exploded. ‘Goddamnit. You have no sense of self-preservation, Emma!’
‘Pffft. It’s fine.’ I glanced at him before adding quietly, ‘Worse things happened to you.’
His fingers drummed angrily against his thigh. He didn’t seem to care about what might have happened to him. ‘And my birthmark? How do you know about that?’
I licked my lips. ‘You already know the answer.’
There was a long silence. When he spoke, his voice was stiff. ‘Did we make love because you knew I wouldn’t remember it?’
‘No. We made love because we both wanted to.’ I cleared my throat awkwardly. ‘Or at least I did. I’m pretty certain you did too.’
‘I can guarantee that,’ he muttered.
A tiny smile flickered across my face.
‘Was it good?’ he bit out.
I knew that he wasn’t asking because of male pride; he was asking whether it was something I’d like to repeat. ‘Yes.’
Another beat passed. ‘The last thing I remember is you avoiding my calls. Is that avoidance something you now regret?’ he asked silkily.