Saffina Desforges' ROSE RED Crime Thriller Boxed Set

by Saffina Desforges

  “You’ve got me,” she heard Andrews say. “Let DI Rose go.”

  Red squeezed her eyes shut at the sound of resignation in the DCI’s voice, choking back a sob.

  “Shut up.” The butt of the pistol split open Bill Andrews’ temple. “I’m giving the orders, copper, not you.”

  Red watched helplessly as Andrews’ chin slumped onto his chest, a crimson stream running down his cheek.

  The Huntsman turned soulless, vapid eyes, in Red’s direction. “Oops. Naughty me, blaspheming in a place of worship.” He put his hand to his mouth in faux embarrassment before disappearing from view. Before Red could orientate herself the Huntsman was over her, casually polishing an apple on the leg of his jeans, long fingers and perfectly manicured nails screaming familiarity. Red focused on the familiar grey lips and veneered teeth. The chin had a cleft. The cheekbones were higher. But the eyes were the same, she was sure of it.

  “Do you want the good news or the bad news, Rose Red?”

  Rose Red. He called her Rose Red. She nodded frantically, despite the pain it caused, desperate to have him remove the gag. If she could talk she could negotiate.

  “The good news?” The Huntsman spat half-chewed apple in her face. She flinched as it rolled off her cheek. DNA evidence. Red mentally cursed herself. Focus!

  “The good news is...” The Huntsman paused, a sneer parting his thin lips. “I’ve only got one bullet.”

  Red sucked in a breath. That wasn’t her definition of good news.

  “So who’s it to be?” The Huntsman kicked her hard in the ribs with his boot. “Any suggestions? A volunteer, maybe?”

  Andrews raised his head, nodding wearily. “Just let her go. Cass isn’t part of this.” He struggled to keep his head directed at the Huntsman. “We can talk. I have the authority to sort things in your favour.”

  The Huntsman looked from Andrews to Red. “That’s just so sweet, Red. He’s sure got a thing going for you, girl. Is that how you got to be DI?” He nudged Red’s cheek with his boot. “Last I heard you were still in uniform.” He turned back to Andrews. “Is that how it was? Taking advantage of a junior officer for your personal gratification?”

  Andrews winced as he brought his head up, blood still dripping onto his shirt. “Inspector Rose and I have a purely professional relationship.”

  “That’s not what I saw.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. We were just –”

  “Don’t waste your breath. I’ve got a train to catch.” He took a huge bite of the apple. “So who’s it gonna be? Rose Red or Billy boy?”

  “Let Cass go.”

  “Really? Like I said, Billy boy, there’s just the one bullet. If I let Red go that would leave you in the firing line.” He smiled. “Literally.”

  “I have a wife, a family. Grandchildren...” Andrews whispered the words through cracked lips, his eyes pleading. “You don’t have to go through with this.”

  The Huntsman cocked his head to one side, smacking his lips. He pointed the gun back at Red. “A wife, family and grandchildren. Hmm. That’s a full house, Red. The only thing that could trump that would be the pomme-rouge.”

  “I told you, it’s at the Station. You’ll never get it now.”

  The Huntsman turned to Red. “Billy boy says the pomme-rouge is at the station. The question is, do I believe him?”

  Red held his stare, determined not to look away, fear wrenching her gut with a vice-like grip. She heard the hammer cock, the noise deafening in the bowels of the church. She closed her eyes, wondering if she would feel anything.

  Silence.

  She opened her eyes to see the Huntsman kneeling behind her. She flinched as his hand came across, stroking her cheek.

  “You see, I was watching you two in the bar for quite a while. Funny things, mirrors. Sometimes you can see without being seen. And I know what I saw. Billy boy had the jewel in his jacket pocket.”

  “You’ve searched us both,” Andrews reminded the Huntsman. “Just let Cass go.”

  “I might do. If she tells me where the jewel is. Well, Rose Red? Do you want to tell me something?”

  Red nodded her head furiously, struggling futilely against her bonds.

  She heard the safety catch slip into position, and breathed a sigh of relief. The Huntsman’s slender fingers slowly moved to the knot of the cloth, easing the gag. Red gulped down air. “Let the guv go and I’ll show you the jewel.”

  The Huntsman eased back, looking resignedly at Andrews. “Two heroes. One bullet.” He shrugged helplessly. “What’s a guy to do?”

  The Huntsman stood up and crossed back to Andrews, pressing the barrel of the Glock into the DCI’s cheek. “The pomme-rouge, Red.”

  Andrews looked desperately at Red. Red’s eyes blazed back, her head shaking furiously. “Don’t do this!”

  “Last chance.”

  Red watched the hammer cock into position. “Upstairs. The hymn book cabinet to the left of the altar.” She turned her eyes on Andrews. “Sorry, Guv. You’re worth more than a piece of jewellery.”

  “You think?” The Huntsman turned towards. her. “I thought by now, Rose Red, you would have learned never to believe a word I say.”

  “Where the hell do I know you from?”

  The Huntsman smiled. “That good? I have to be honest, I thought the hands would give it away. They say the hands are the hardest thing to change. Especially the fingers.”

  Red’s eyes dropped to the hand on the gun. Those long fingers. The perfectly manicured nails. She watched them slowly curl around the trigger.

  She took a deep breath, then still uncertain, the words barely audible, “Nathan?”

  The Huntsman smiled. “Time to say goodbye to Billy boy, Rose Red.”

  Andrews dropped his gaze to the floor. “Tell Elizabeth I love her, Cass.”

  Red watched the Huntsman’s finger close on the trigger. “Nathan, no!”

  The image of globules of blood and brain decorating the dust-covered marble statue of Jesus carved themselves on Red’s mind for eternity.

  Chapter 79.

  Pippa slipped a gloved hand into Red’s as the black limousine edged its way through the early morning traffic. “Everything’s okay, Cass. We’ll get through this.”

  Red slowly turned pain-dulled eyes on her partner. “It won’t be okay until that bastard is behind bars.” She pulled her hand away, allowing her head to flop back on the seat.

  Pippa reached up with a tenderness normally reserved for newborn babies, gently touching Red’s face, avoiding the bruising, now a fierce shade of purple. “You’ve got to be strong today. Everyone is relying on you.”

  Red squeezed her eyes shut, trying to shut out the resignation on her DCI’s face as the Huntsman pulled back the trigger. Trying to shut out the muffled whump of the bullet as it ripped a hole in her mentor’s head. Trying to shut out the smile of satisfaction on the Huntsman’s face as he nonchalantly wiped the barrel of the gun on his jeans before using her phone to call an ambulance.

  The pain tore through her. Red bent double in her seat. Pippa caught her, cradling Red in her arms.

  Chapter 80.

  “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust…”

  Red leaned awkwardly against Pippa, the Pastor’s words floating in and out of focus, carried away on the cold March wind. The wall of uniforms before her were barely visible through her tears, the rain-sodden ground cotton wool beneath her feet. Red could feel Pippa’s fingers digging into her arm as her lover took her weight.

  “I can’t do this, Pip.”

  “It’s almost over, babe. Not long now.”

  Red lifted a head heavy with sedatives, her wrists and arms sore and aching, her heart irrevocably broken. “Pip, get me out of here. Now.”

  Chapter 81.

  “Steady, Cass.” Pippa put out a restraining hand as Red put a third glass of wine to her lips. “The others are heading back. You’ve had enough.”

  “Don’t tell me how much I can drink.” Red snatched her
arm away, slopping wine onto the pub floor.

  Pippa looked about her, stung by Red’s retort. “Cass, please,” she said, the kindness apparent, but the warning unmistakable.

  “You’re on medication, Cass. You shouldn’t be drinking at all.”

  “Sod the medication.” Red glared at her partner. “Today, of all days, do not tell me what…” Her gaze settled over Pippa’s shoulder. “Oh shit.”

  A smile spread across Pippa’s face as she saw the object of Red’s concern, Superintendent Colin Blake, approaching at a brisk pace, his cap neatly tucked under his arm.

  “Cassandra, I thought I might find you here.”

  Red straightened herself, self-consciously adjusting her blouse. “Sir.”

  To Pippa, “Ms. Crichton-Ward. Sorry we have to meet again in these circumstances.”

  “Aren’t we all, Superintendent. How is Mrs. Blake?”

  Blake cradled his cap, taking Pippa’s hand. “She’s fine. Thank you for asking. She would have been here today, but… Anyway, can I get you ladies another drink?”

  “Cassandra is fine, Superintendent, but thank you anyway.”

  Red pushed Pippa hard with her shoulder. “Cassandra is not fine. Cassandra needs another drink.” To Blake, “Thank you, Sir.” She emptied her glass in one and shoved it at her superior officer.

  Blake took it with an embarrassed glance at Pippa. “Right. White wine, is it? One moment. So how about you, Ms. Crichton-Ward?”

  “A small white wine too, thank you. And just a small one for Cass.”

  Red managed a condescending smile. “Make that a large one. Just ignore my partner, Sir. Control freak.”

  Blake ran concerned eyes between the two women. “I’ll... I’ll see what they have available.”

  As Blake left Pippa rounded on Red, loud whispers drawing the attention she sought to avoid. “Don’t do this, Cass. For William’s sake, don’t do this.”

  Red stared back, glazed eyes indifferent to the spectators. “Bill is dead, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

  Pippa’s eyes implored her partner. “I know how you’re hurting, babe. But please… For me.”

  Red nodded compliantly. “For you, lover. But just lay off with the – Oh, Christ!”

  “What?” Pippa spun herself round to follow Red’s gaze. “Oh.” Pippa’s eyes took in the smart uniform but the name evaded her.

  “The DA bloody C!”

  “The what?”

  “The Deputy Assistant Commissioner. Jesus, Pip, I don’t want that smarmy bastard near me. Not today. Not ever.”

  Pippa’s eyes lit up. “The Assistant Commissioner?”

  “Deputy.” Red spun round, burying her head in her hands. “He’s looking this way. Get rid of him.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “Morris.”

  Pippa tentatively waved her hand in his direction. “Yoo-hoo! Mr. Morris?”

  Red cringed. “You bitch.”

  Pippa beamed at the DAC as he approached. “Assistant Commissioner Morris, isn’t it?”

  The DAC smiled benevolently. “Just Deputy. And you are?”

  “Philippa Crichton-Ward, QC. Partner to Detective Inspector Rose.”

  “Oh, so she is here. Someone said Ms. Rose had left?”

  “No, no, Cassandra is right here.” Pippa moved to one side, revealing Red hurriedly straightening her jacket. “Cass, its Mr. Morris.”

  “Cassandra, delighted to meet you at last,” the DAC said with a warm smile and a firm hand shake.” To Pippa, “And how good of you to come too.” He took Pippa’s hand, a lingering shake. “I appreciate your being here. I know you must be busy.”

  “Being here to support Cassandra was the very least I could do. I had the pleasure of Detective Chief Inspector Andrews’ company on many occasions. A most charming and wonderful man.”

  Morris nodded warmly. “His death is a loss to us all, I assure you.” He looked at Red, swaying unsteadily on her seat. “Are you okay?”

  Red nodded unconvincingly. Her eyes locked on Superintendent Colin Blake, heading back with the wine. A mischievous smile played on her lips. “I will be in a minute, anyway.”

  “Colin,” Morris greeted his colleague. “I’m just making my acquaintance with DI Rose and Ms... Sorry, what was the name again?”

  “Call me Philippa. All my friends do.”

  “Philippa, right.” To Blake, “As I’ve told you already, Colin, Cassandra must take just as long as she needs before she returns to duties. We want her back, of course, but fit and well.”

  “That’s very thoughtful, Mr. Morris.” Pippa beamed. To Red, “Did you hear that, Cass? The Assistant Commissioner says—”

  “Deputy,” Morris hastened to correct. “Deputy Assistant Commissioner. I’m afraid I’m a long way off my next promotion. Unlike Inspector Rose here.”

  Red looked up from her glass, focusing on Morris. “I’m sorry?”

  Morris beamed at Red, then at Pippa. “When you do rejoin us, Cassandra, we need to discuss your promotion.”

  Pippa burst into a huge smile, clutching Red’s arm. “Promotion?”

  Red screwed one eye shut, attempting to focus on Blake’s words. Her voice slurred, “What promotion?”

  Blake beamed a smile. “To Chief Inspector.”

  Red stared expressionless at the DAC. “Now there’s a surprise.”

  Pippa coughed, turning to Morris. “I think maybe now is not the best time to be discussing this with Cassandra. She’s exhausted, and very emotional.”

  “Of course, I fully understand. I —”

  “Promotion?” Red repeated, much louder this time. The respectful quiet chatter of fellow mourners fizzled out as eyes turned on her. “The Guv’s not even cold in his grave and you’re offering me his goddamn job?”

  Pippa placed an arm around Red’s shoulders, shooting an embarrassed smile at Morris. The DAC’s mouth opened and closed like a stranded cat-fish.

  Red shrugged off Pippa’s grip, the wine glass falling from her hand, smashing at her feet. Staggering slightly, Red looked down at the carpet, tears falling over her cheeks, dripping onto the floor, her strength suddenly evaporating.

  “I’m so sorry. She shouldn’t be mixing alcohol and medication. I’ll take her home. It’s been a long day.”

  Morris nodded, straightening his tie. He brushed a white-gloved hand over his uniform and spun on his heels, “Yes, you do that.” He stepped into the slowly engulfing sea of bodies gravitating towards them.

  Anna appeared by Red’s side. “Guv, bad news, I’m afraid.”

  Pippa sniffed at Anna. “Somehow I doubt it can be worse than blowing your promotion in a drunken stupor.”

  Anna ignored Pippa, turning to Red, a caring hand on her shoulder. “Mr. Barker, Guv. He didn’t make it. It’s now a murder investigation.”

  Chapter 82.

  Red blinked against the unexpected influx of light, shielding her eyes with an arm. “Don’t open the bloody curtains,” she growled at Pippa.

  “Cass, you have to get out of bed at some point. It’s been over a week.”

  “I don’t have to do anything.”

  There was a heavy silence.

  “I thought we could take a walk in the park. Maybe go for some lunch. The children are at my mother’s.”

  Red grunted, rolling over, pulling the duvet over her head. She felt Pippa’s weight on the bed, a hand resting on her shoulder.

  “Cass, please. You have to snap out of this, I need you. We need you. The children haven’t seen you in days.”

  Red felt a tug at her heart strings but didn’t move; the safety of the covers shielding her from the real world.

  She waited, listening to the sound of her own breathing. She heard a heavy sigh escape Pippa’s lips. She felt the weight lift from the bed as Pippa got up. Heard her footsteps cross the bare, walnut floor-boards and heard the door gently close.

  Red threw the covers back, inhaling fresh air, swinging her legs over the side of the be
d. A warm glow of rage smoldered in the pit of her stomach as she reached for her phone, switching it on for the first time in eight days. She pressed speed dial three.

  “Message for DS Anna Hargreaves. Anna, it’s Red. Tell the Super I’ll be back tomorrow. And get the lads warmed up. We’ve got ourselves some hunting to do.”

  Chapter 83.

  Superintendent Colin Blake didn’t look up from his papers as Red quietly closed the office door behind her.

  “Inspector Rose reporting back for duty, Sir.”

  “Sit. I’ll be with you in a moment.”

  Red obeyed, holding her breath, not daring to move.

  Finally, Blake raised his gaze to meet hers. “Are you actually fit for duty, Inspector?”

  Red nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

  “Good. I should say welcome back, but I’m not sure that would be appropriate in the circumstances.”

  “Sir?”

  “I shall say this just once, Detective Inspector Rose, and then it will be forgotten. But it needs to be said. Your conduct at the funeral of DCI Andrews was not befitting a senior ranking officer with the Metropolitan Police.”

  Red dropped her eyes to the floor. “No, Sir.”

  “Don’t get me wrong. I am acutely aware of your long-standing friendship with DCI Andrews, and I fully appreciate the emotions of the moment. As you know, Bill and I go back a long way too. Way before your time, in fact.”

  Red nodded. “I know, Sir. The Guv always spoke highly of you. You have my sincere apologies for my conduct, Sir. I was foolish to mix alcohol and medication.”

  Blake put up a hand. “No excuses necessary, Cass.”