The Conspiracy 6

by Jack Probyn

  ‘You’ve still not convinced me.’

  ‘What do you—’ Bridger started, preparing himself to release a torrent of anger and frustration, but then thought better of it. This man was the source of most of his income – triple his basic salary from this one job – and he wasn’t about to burn his bridges over it. If he played his cards right, there would be more.

  ‘I tried to delay Pemberton for as long as I could, but Tanner was all over me,’ Bridger continued. ‘The keys. The golf course. He was even wearing the same fucking watch as me. Candice mistook him for me – she thought he was the one who was supposed to be getting them out. And he even had a little friend to help him as well. Danika. Danika Oblak. She was feeding him information on the phone.’

  ‘I’ve heard her name before. It’s cropped up in a few human resources meetings.’ There was a pause. ‘What about Mark?’

  ‘He tried to get her onside but couldn’t get anywhere with it. He’s invited Danika out for a drink to see if he can do it that way.’

  ‘She on the turn?’

  ‘Doubt it. Maybe. Have to see what sort of magic Mark can pull out of the bag.’

  ‘And what about this other one? Tanner. Same story for him? Can he be swayed?’

  Bridger hesitated before answering. In the distance, to his left, a green Austin Mini Cooper pulled out of its parking space, turned right, drove along the road, past Bridger and headed towards the car park’s exit. As the car passed, Bridger and Tanner locked eyes. They waved at one another and Bridger watched the vehicle disappear out of sight.

  ‘Tanner’s different,’ he began, returning his attention to the call. ‘He’s too keen. Too eager to do his job. But he’s a good detective. Thinks of things in different ways. And he’s not afraid to voice them either. He’d make a very good asset, but you either want to cut him loose straight away or win him over. There’s no middle ground.’

  ‘I do like a work-in-progress.’

  ‘That one will be one of the hardest grafts of your life.’

  ‘Good. But don’t think it’s over for you. You’re still not done.’

  Bridger’s brow furrowed and the muscles in his face tightened. ‘What?’

  ‘You’re not finished. Not yet. The brothers are about to do time. A lot of it. It was your job to get them out of the country. You’ve made a mess of it. Now it’s your job to get them out of jail.

  Bridger sighed and shook his head.

  ‘And then I’m done with this job?’

  ‘And then you’ll get your cut.’

  ‘And what about Mark? Do the same rules apply?’

  ‘Leave Mark to me. His involvement in this case raises more suspicion than anything else. There are things that he’s probably not telling you. You need to keep an eye on who he’s getting close with.’

  ‘But I—’

  ‘By the same token, I think it’s in your best interests to find yourself some new talent within the team. Get them to help. You might need it because it’s going to get dirty. Oh, and don’t get caught. Someone a lot worse than Jake Tanner might make life a misery for you.’

  | EPISODE 6 |

  EPILOGUE

  Following their arrest, Michael and Danny Cipriano were charged with three counts of murder, aggravated assault, armed robbery, possession of a firearms and conspiracy to pervert the court of justice. They are currently being held in remand in HMP Belmarsh where they are awaiting trial. DS Bridger is in charge of the investigation.

  Danika Oblak left her husband and two children and now lives in Guildford as a full-time member of Surrey Police. She’s started drinking again.

  DCI Nicki Pemberton was rewarded with a bravery award for her tactical and strategic decision-making during Operation Corkscrew. She continues to live with her husband and children in their home in Liphook.

  DI Mark Murphy was lauded for his precise and accurate help throughout Operation Corkscrew. He has since dropped DCI Pemberton and made DC Oblak his next “conquest”.

  Jake Tanner raised his concerns regarding DS Bridger’s conduct throughout Operation Corkscrew. DCI Pemberton was in charge of the complaint. No further investigation was made and DS Bridger’s record remains untarnished.

  Meanwhile, DS Elliot Bridger continues to work for The Cabal in secret.

  ***

  Jake — and some old enemies — return in The Community. Coming soon.

  COMING SOON…

  The Community:

  HE DIDN'T WANT TO KILL THEM.

  A couple with a nefarious secret are brutally murdered in their London art gallery. Their bodies cleaned. Their limbs dismembered. And the word LIAR inscribed on the woman’s chest.

  THEY FORCED HIM TO.

  For rookie detective, Jake Tanner, it soon becomes apparent that this is not a revenge killing. There’s a serial killer loose on the streets of Stratford. And the only thing connecting the victims is their name: Jessica.

  BUT NOW HE'S GOT A TASTE FOR IT...

  With pressure closing in from the powers above, forcing Jake and his team to contain the case before it goes viral, Jake learns that the team are willing to do anything to put an end to it all.

  ...HE CAN'T STOP.

  Jake’s pushed to his mental limits as he uncovers The Community, an online forum for singles and couples to meet. But there’s just one problem: the killer's been waiting for him... and he’s hungry for his next kill.

  Turn over the page to read an exclusive extract from The Community…

  | EPISODE 1 |

  CHAPTER ONE

  THE BLACK DOOR

  Steven and Jessica Arnholt weren’t afraid to share the darker, seedier side of their relationship with others. In fact, it helped. When it came to the bedroom – and what happened behind the four walls – there was nothing that they kept hidden. Tonight, however, was different. Jessica wasn’t ready for what was about to come her way, and when her husband asked whether she was, she lied. In his hands he held two glasses of red wine, the liquid as dark and deep as blood. One glass for him, one for her.

  ‘Thanks,’ Jessica said, taking the glass from him and placing it down on the desk beside her. She rolled up the sleeves of her blue tartan shirt and sat on the chair, tying her long, auburn hair off her face and into a ponytail. ‘What time’s he coming?’

  Steven checked his watch. A long, sinewy forearm and skeletal fingers extended through the red tartan shirt he wore – the same brand and material as hers. His skin looked a ghostly white against the red.

  ‘In about five minutes,’ he replied.

  ‘Is the room set up?’

  The sides of Steven’s mouth flickered. He took a sip of wine and licked his lips, wiping the excess from his skin. ‘I finished it earlier. Let me show you.’

  Jessica took his hand and travelled with him through the gallery. On the left wall was a new piece of artwork that she didn’t recognise – which now explained where Steven had been disappearing to for the past three days. Jessica paid it little heed though, as there were more important things to focus on than admiring his work and realising he wasn’t having an affair. Her mind was too distracted. She felt apprehensive. Nervous. Afraid. She’d experienced a night like this before – countless times, in fact – but she had a feeling that tonight was going to be different; the full moon was on show and she knew, particularly for Steven, it would awaken the beast. His beast.

  Steven came to a stop by a heavy black door that led to the basement. He lifted the handle and pushed. A black wall stared back at them, lit only by the dancing light of the candles that hung intermittently on the wall. Jessica went first. Her feet landed delicately on the steps and she held on to what holdings she could find on the brick, using it for guidance. As she reached the final step, a deep red swathed her.

  What had, hours ago, been her husband’s art room was now his dungeon. Along the back wall was a row of what Steven liked to call ‘his toys’. Dildos. Whips. Beads. Spankers. Blunt objects. But there was a new addition. To the right of
the other objects were a set of kitchen knives. She daren’t ask what they were for… not yet anyway; she was too absorbed by the magic of the entire room. Her body tingled at the sight of it all.

  In the centre of the space was a large table, with four chains placed in each corner. It had been crafted to her exact measurements, and they allowed no room for manoeuvre: once she was locked in, she was locked in until released. On the right-hand side of the room were two poles, and at the top of them, another set of chains; one for each hand – or foot, depending on Steven’s preference.

  Jessica took another sip of wine.

  ‘What do you think?’ Steven asked.

  ‘It’s nice. I sense plum with a tiny kick of cherry… right?’

  ‘Not the wine,’ Steven said, puffing out a small laugh. ‘I meant the room. I think it’s the best it’s looked in a long time.’

  Jessica pointed to the blades hanging from the wall. ‘What are those for? Do you want him to kill me?’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Steven said, placing a hand on her shoulder. ‘They won’t do anything other than make you sore. They’re blunt. I wore them down earlier while you were at work.’

  ‘They better be. I don’t want him to kill me.’

  ‘He’ll do exactly as I tell him. And exactly as you’ll let him.’

  She looked him deep in the eyes. They had turned a darker brown than usual. And that was when she knew his sadistic tendencies had begun to consume his mind and body. It wouldn’t be long until his entire personality changed.

  ‘Yes, master.’

  Steven opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by the sound of a doorbell ringing on the gallery floor. Saying nothing, both Steven and Jessica headed upstairs; Steven pulling Jessica by the arm, stretching her skin as he gripped her tightly.

  The harsh fluorescent light blinded her as she climbed the final step. On the other side of the gallery window was Lester Bain, their victim. He was a small man, balding, and the little hair that remained on his head was the colour of straw. She’d never bothered to ask how old he was, but she was certain he was either in his late thirties or early forties, though Lester’s physique belied his real age. He had the body of a twenty-year-old. Sculpted. Muscular. It was clear to see he looked after himself. It was just a shame that he repulsed her as soon as he touched her.

  Lester gave a quaint little wave as the light from inside the gallery illuminated his face.

  ‘What are you waiting for?’ Steven asked her. ‘Open the door, you stupid bitch. We can’t leave him waiting too long.’

  ‘Yes, master.’ Jessica bowed her head, placed her glass on the desk and opened the door for Lester.

  His aftershave was strong, but she’d become immune to its power. Lester entered the building and removed his shoes – it had been a common courtesy he’d insisted upon the first time they’d all met.

  ‘Jessica, my darling,’ he said, kissing her on the lips. His hand wandered down her body and found its home on her breast. He squeezed hard.

  ‘Lester!’ Steven called from the other end of the room. ‘Don’t get too carried away with yourself. We have to wait. Trust me. It’ll make it all better.’

  ‘Is tonight the night?’ Lester asked, his voice endearing, like a child’s.

  Steven nodded. ‘The very one. We wanted to surprise you. I hope you’re prepared.’

  ‘I’ve waited three long months for this.’

  Steven raised a glass. ‘Red? Or we have white if you’d prefer?’

  Lester released Jessica’s breast as though it were an inanimate object that he held no emotional attachment to and started towards Steven. ‘Red please.’

  Jessica closed the door behind them and locked it. She gave one final look at the world outside – the normality of it all; the world that had no idea what would go on behind these four walls; the world that would judge them if they did know. There was no turning back now.

  Steven called her name. She turned towards him and then rushed over. Her masters were standing in front of a five-foot-wide painting.

  ‘I was just showing our guest my new work,’ Steven said.

  ‘I think it’s wonderful,’ Lester added.

  ‘He’s a talented man, my—’

  Lester slapped her across the face with the back of his hand, knocking the glass from her grip. It smashed into hundreds of pieces, wine spreading across the floor, soiling her shoes as well as Lester’s white socks.

  ‘Now look what you’ve fucking done!’ Lester screamed in her face. ‘What have I told you about talking out of turn? Go and clean it up now.’

  Jessica immediately complied. She rushed through another door that led into a kitchen area, grabbed some cloths, a dustpan and brush, and returned to the gallery. As she bent down to pick up the glass and mop up the wine, she eavesdropped on their conversation.

  ‘As I was saying,’ Steven continued. ‘I wanted to go for something slightly different. I wanted something that would make a commentary on life.’

  ‘I have to say, it’s hyperreal. I’d love to feature one in one of my properties,’ Lester said. He tilted his head and glanced at Jessica on the floor. ‘At a nominal fee, of course.’

  ‘Naturally.’

  Lester returned his attention to the painting. ‘Now, you know I don’t know much about art – and I would say, in my immodest opinion, that it looks a lot like all your other works – but this one is my favourite.’

  ‘My art shows the perfection of life. The order. The normality of it. The banality. A complete contrast to our little secret.’

  ‘Speaking of little secrets,’ Lester began, ‘The Community has just reached fifteen thousand members. We hit the figure earlier this afternoon.’

  ‘If that isn’t something to celebrate, I don’t know what is!’

  Steven and Lester’s glasses clinked together while Jessica carried the filled dustpan and sodden cloth back to the kitchen area. She returned empty-handed.

  An awkward moment fell on the three of them as both men stared at her. Lester’s eyes bore into her skin, and the sensation that he was undressing her with his eyes – which, she knew, he was – made her feel even more apprehensive. In the few months since they’d started their Communion with Lester, it had only been foreplay. Handjobs. Blowjobs. Heavy touching. All of the stuff that Steven allowed her to perform. But now Steven determined that they had teased Lester enough – it was time for the Full Communion. Intercourse. She didn’t want it, but she had no say in the matter. She was submissive, and it was Steven’s choice. But of all the other Community members they’d been with, Lester was the first that made her skin crawl. There was something different about him – something she didn’t like.

  ‘Well?’ Lester was the first to speak. ‘What are we waiting for? Shall we begin?’

  Steven checked his watch. ‘I think it’s about time.’ He turned to the black door and gestured for Lester to move first. ‘Please. Follow me.’

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  Also in The CID Case Series

  The Conspiracy (June 2020)

  Organised crime group, The Crimsons, commit their final jewellery heist before they try to escape the country. One man stands in their way. But with a bent copper working against him, can Jake Tanner stop them in time? Or will it be too late?