Time Lost

by C. B. Lewis

  Kit didn’t know whether he or Luke was the one to sit up fastest.

  “What is it?”

  “Is something wrong?”

  Jacob glanced between them and shook his head. “Nothing’s wrong.” He pulled his beer bottle closer, turning it on the spot in front of him. “You both know I’m finished with the police force.” Kit mutely reached over to touch his forearm, earning a small smile. “I’ve had an offer of a job.”

  “Already?” Luke sounded pleased. “Knew you were too smart to be unemployed for long.”

  Jacob continued to turn the beer bottle between his hands. “It’s complicated.” He raised his eyes. “It’s at the TRI.”

  Kit stared at him. “The TRI? My TRI?”

  Jacob nodded. “They—” He sighed. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea. I mean, the reasons they gave me are good, but I don’t know—” He shook his head and took a swig of beer, then set it back down. “I forced them to go public. I don’t know whether it’s a good idea to get involved.”

  Kit didn’t know what to think. It hadn’t been mentioned to him by Mariam or anyone, but then a lot of things weren’t. And technically, it would be good to have Jacob working nearby. But then, it might make things weird if they were working together. And it wasn’t like he really had any say in it all. It was Jacob’s life after all.

  “What kind of job is it?” Luke asked. He was leaning forward, arms braced on his knees.

  Jacob shook his head. “I’m not sure of the details,” he admitted. “They said there’s investigative work involved, solving historical problems and things like that.”

  “So basically, historical policeman?” Luke said. “I don’t know about you, but to me, that sounds right up your street.”

  Jacob scratched his chin. “It’s not that simple.”

  Kit picked at his fingernail. “Yeah, it is.” He didn’t look at Jacob. “Take me out of the equation. Take the case out of it. If you were offered this job, this chance to do that kind of investigative work and solve crimes that no one has been able to solve for centuries, would you want to do it?”

  Jacob was quiet for a long time, and that was answer enough.

  Kit lifted his eyes from his fingernails. “You should take it.”

  “It might make things… complicated.”

  Kit snorted.

  “What I think your shag toy is trying to say by way of grunts,” Luke said, ignoring Kit’s yelp of indignation, “is that this situation is complicated anyway, but that’s no reason to look a gift horse in the mouth, especially not doing a job you know you would be bloody amazing at.”

  “I’m still the man who forced the TRI to go public.”

  Kit laid his hands on the table. “They knew it would happen eventually. You can’t cover up something this big forever. If Mariam’s asking you, you know it’s coming from the top. They think you’re the right person for this, Jacob.” He looked at his lover. “And if it doesn’t work out, you can just walk away and no one would blame you.”

  Jacob silently reached over and grasped his hand. Kit curled his fingers, squeezing Jacob’s, and tried to smile.

  “You really think I should do this?”

  Kit watched the way their fingers were overlapping. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “I think we need someone like you in there.” He raised his eyes to Jacob’s. “It’s your decision. Do it because you want to, not because we think you should. It’s your life.”

  Jacob was frowning, his brow furrowed. “I’ve fucked things up before, because I put work first. I don’t want to do that again. If this is going to get in the way of us—”

  “It won’t,” Kit interrupted. “It won’t. I work in engineering. You wouldn’t even see me. You’d be in with all the historical people. And if they say anything about it, I’ll rig their chairs to catapult them out the window.”

  Jacob smiled that gorgeous smile of his, dimples deepening on his cheeks. “Yeah?”

  “Engineer,” Kit replied, smiling in return. “I do what I can.”

  A muffled sound from the couch made them turn. Luke had his elbows propped on his knees and his clasped hands pressed to his mouth. From the look of it, he was trying to hide a smile, and another muted squeak escaped him.

  Jacob snorted, but he sounded happier. “Shut up.”

  “You like him,” Luke singsonged, making Kit blush. “You liiiiike him.”

  Jacob was laughing openly now, and hurled a pizza crust at his son’s head. “Did I mention my son is a little shithead?” he inquired as Luke ducked, laughing, behind a cushion.

  Kit could only smile. “Like father, like son?”

  Jacob pulled on his hand, drawing Kit closer. “You have no idea.”

  Chapter 53

  IT FELT strange walking into the station.

  Jacob stood at the reception desk, waiting for the desk sergeant to notice him. Instinct was telling him to swipe his pass, walk through the door, and get to work, but DCI Crawford had his pass, his badge, everything that had identified him as a policeman.

  He hadn’t really wanted to come to the station today, or at all for a while. It was too recent, too raw, but Crawford had left a message for him, ordering him to come in. There were loose ends to be tied up, formalities to be dealt with, his office to clear out.

  He wished he was back at Kit’s place, still in bed with Kit sprawled over him. It wasn’t a bad way to wake up, with a warm thigh draped over his arse and his lover nuzzling at his shoulders. It was a hell of a lot better than standing in the place where he had been forced to abandon his career.

  The sergeant turned from checking a monitor and exclaimed in surprise. “DI Ofori!”

  Jacob managed to force a smile onto his face, but it felt tight and strained. “Just Jacob, Sergeant,” he demurred. “Can you let DCI Crawford know I’m here?”

  Sergeant Benson nodded at once, reaching for the phone.

  Five minutes later, DCI Crawford met him as he emerged from the elevator. “Mr. Ofori.”

  “Ma’am.”

  She gestured sharply, and he fell into step behind her. She didn’t say anything, and he knew asking questions while walking in the halls would be far from appropriate. It was only when they walked beyond her office that he felt the confusion rising.

  “Ma’am, where are we going?”

  She glanced back over your shoulder. “You would do well to keep quiet, Mr. Ofori.” She turned into the corridor that led to the interview rooms and opened a door adjacent to one of the rooms. It was the viewing chamber for one of the bigger interview rooms. “In.”

  He entered, turning to her, confused. “Ma’am, I don’t understand what—”

  “No more questions, Ofori,” she replied shortly. “This was your case. It’s only right that you see us finishing it. Remain in here. Do not move. Do not let anyone know you are here. Am I understood?”

  His heart leapt. “Understood, ma’am.”

  For a moment, her expression eased and she nodded, then withdrew, closing the door behind her.

  Jacob sat down on one of the seats, looking through the pane of mirrored glass into the interview room. If she was right, if she was saying what he thought she was saying, then they had found something to pin Harper to all of the crimes committed in the present.

  If that was the case, if it was done, if they had him….

  He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. No. He couldn’t believe it was all done until charges were laid. He’d seen so many, too many, cases fall apart at the final stretch. He would watch, listen, and pray like hell that everything would come together, but until it was done, he wouldn’t celebrate, not yet.

  It was at least fifteen minutes before Harper was escorted into the room by Crawford and Temple. They were accompanied by a man in a suit—Harper’s lawyer, Jacob assumed. Harper wasn’t looking as polished as he had the last time Jacob saw him. There was stubble on his face, and his clothing was rumpled and creased.

  All of them sat down, and Temple
did the usual setup of the monitoring system.

  “Since you have two hours before your seventy-two hour holding period is up,” the lawyer began, “I assume this is your last-ditch attempt to try and get some kind of confession out of my client.”

  Crawford leaned back in her chair, her hands casually folded on the edge of the desk. She was letting Temple take point, and Jacob was grateful for that. Temple had taken over the case and she’d done it without any hesitation. She deserved the chance to break it.

  “We have a few last questions for Mr. Harper,” Temple said. “As we discussed in previous interviews, you were aware that we were looking for a young woman in connection with the disappearance of Thomas Sanders.”

  “And as my client has previously stated, the woman came to his offices and departed shortly thereafter. He did not see her after that.”

  Temple gazed at him. She was smiling placidly and Jacob wanted to applaud. He’d taught her that move, being just confident enough to unnerve, but not so overconfident as to make stupid mistakes. “Yes, I recall he mentioned that she came to his offices, and only spent five minutes there. As you will recall, we have physical evidence confirming this was a lie, so you can see why we might find it difficult to trust anything your client says.”

  The lawyer’s expression was carefully blank. “Unless you have proof that suggests they met again, I would be careful how you proceed, DI Temple.”

  She kept smiling. “You know the young woman was found.”

  “Yes, we are aware of her misfortune on the railway.”

  Jacob kept his eyes on Harper. The man looked like he hadn’t slept, and when people were tired, they were more prone to giving themselves away.

  “Sadly, our mystery woman passed away during the night.”

  There was a moment, just a split second, of relief on Harper’s face before he schooled his expression. Got you, you bastard, Jacob thought.

  “And since you have no further evidence of this particular crime, perhaps you would—”

  “I didn’t say I was finished, Mr. Dennis.” Temple cut across his smoothly. “Miss Smith died of injuries inflicted by the train. However, we have evidence that indicates she was not alone when she did. Indeed, the evidence suggests that she was murdered.”

  “Oh come now!” Dennis exclaimed. “My client helped this woman when she was lost and distressed, and now, you are accusing him of what exactly?”

  “Exactly what I just said, Mr. Dennis. Conspiracy to murder.”

  Harper’s eyes flicked to his lawyer, then back to Temple. “This is ridiculous,” he snapped. “I was in custody when she had her accident! And now, you have the gall to say I was involved with this?”

  His lawyer caught him by the arm, trying to calm him. “What my client is saying is that your own closed-circuit surveillance will confirm he has a solid alibi for the time of the woman’s accident.”

  “What our surveillance will show is your client talking to you, and then you making a call on your quill as you left the building,” Temple replied evenly. She laid a folded paper on the desk. “And this warrant gives us the right to check your outbound calls on your quill, particularly for a call to a certain Nicholas Garrett.”

  Harper’s whole body went tense, his hands clenching beneath the desk. Jacob smiled. The man was sweating, and from the look of things, his lawyer had no idea just what his client had involved him in.

  Dennis frowned. “The name isn’t familiar.”

  “Perhaps not to you, but he certainly is to Mr. Harper.” Temple slid the paper across the table. “Do you recognize this number?”

  Dennis stared at it, then back at them. “I need to speak to my client for a moment.”

  “You have five minutes,” Crawford said, rising. She held out an evidence bag. “Put your quill in there, please.” Dennis hesitated, then did so, and Crawford sealed the bag. “Interview suspended for five minutes. DCI Crawford and DI Temple exiting the room. Temple, with me, if you please.”

  Temple switched off the recording, which unfortunately had the joint effect of turning off the microphones that connected the room to the observation room. Still, Jacob could see Dennis talking angrily at Harper, and Harper raising his hands to placate him.

  The door of the observation room opened behind Jacob and he glanced back.

  “How’s it looking?” Temple asked, coming over to lean on the back of his chair.

  Jacob grinned. “Seems there’s something he forgot to mention to his lawyer, doesn’t it?”

  Temple laughed. “We thought that might be the case.”

  He glanced up at her. “You have something on this Garrett, then?”

  Temple squeezed his shoulder. “Just wait and see.”

  He lifted his hand to give hers a squeeze. “You’re doing well in there. Harper looked like he was about to have a heart attack.”

  She smiled briefly. “Thanks, chief.” She was silent for a moment, then said, “That Rafferty’s a good kid, you dirty old pervert.”

  He turned around to face her properly, unable to hide a smile. “Don’t you start. Luke’s bad enough.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “He’s already met the family? It’s that serious?”

  Jacob shrugged. “Could well be.”

  She smiled. “I’m glad, then.” The door opened again, and both of them glanced over. DCI Crawford jerked her head. Temple nodded, stepping back. “Once this is over with, we’ll talk, all right?”

  Jacob nodded. “Yeah.”

  He returned his attention to the glass, as the two women reentered the interview room. The lawyer looked on edge and Harper was pale and tense. It was the kind of combination you liked to see when you were coming in as the investigating officer.

  Temple restarted the recording. “Interview resumed at 11:47. DCI Crawford and DI Temple present.” She propped her forearms on the desk and folded her hands together in front of her. “So, Mr. Dennis. We showed you a number on the warrant. Do you recognize the number?”

  “Yes.” Dennis’s jaw was set. “My client asked me to telephone that number. I was advised it pertained to a business meeting that he needed to cancel, on account of being held in custody.”

  “A business meeting.” Temple tapped the balls of her thumbs together. “I’m afraid Mr. Garrett said it was about another matter entirely.”

  Harper was breathing hard now, and the sweat was rolling off him in thick ropes.

  Dennis swallowed hard. “My client has no comment.”

  Temple smiled without showing any teeth. “Your client’s silence speaks volumes.” She leaned forward. “Your assumption, Mr. Dennis, was incorrect. We did not bring your client in here as a last-ditch attempt to delay any proceedings. We brought your client in here to give him a last opportunity to give us the truth of the situation. He has not done this, and the record will show this when his case is taken to trial.”

  “On what charges?” All the fight had gone out of Dennis.

  “Where to begin: we have perverting the course of justice, attempted blackmail, aiding and abetting a fugitive, conspiracy to commit theft, theft, conspiracy to commit murder….”

  “There’s no evidence for half those charges,” Harper rasped. He looked pasty and ill. “No evidence.”

  “On the contrary,” Temple unfolded her hand and touched the desk, illuminating it. Jacob couldn’t see the image from his angle. “This is the pod that carried Miss Smith to the train station.”

  “I don’t see how—”

  “It appears Miss Smith knew she was in danger,” Temple interrupted smoothly. “We found trace evidence that matched the fibers of the seats under her nails and scratches on the seat. There were also fingerprints that identified your Mr. Garrett, thanks to his previous misdemeanors.” She touched the desk again, changing the image. “He tried to burn the interior, and if he had succeeded, he would have destroyed any evidence, but he made the mistake of closing the doors once he set the fire.” She folded her hands and smiled. “I hope yo
u understand science well enough to see his error.”

  Jacob clapped. Yes, yes, yes!

  “Shit.” Harper’s voice was a wheezing breath.

  Temple’s smile widened. “We picked Mr. Garrett up this morning. He does not want to be held solely accountable for a crime that was of your making. He informed us of your instructions to conceal the girl at one of your unlisted properties until the furor died down. We have the address of that property now, and a team will be examining it thoroughly. He also informed us that when it became clear we were shifting our investigation in your direction, he was told to make sure she was dealt with.”

  She rose from her chair, and Jacob grinned from ear to ear. She knew every trick he had and she was using them like a professional.

  “We have one last question for you, Mr. Harper, and consider carefully before you answer: the young woman who came to you was carrying a box of hard drives. Mr. Garrett confirmed that he substituted the hard drives while your guest slept.” She leaned down, bracing her hands on the edge of the desk. “Where are those hard drives now?”

  Harper was staring at his plump fists, breathing heavily.

  They had him on so many charges. He was going to be put away and it was going to be for a long time, if justice was served. He hadn’t been honest at any time through the whole case, and Jacob wasn’t surprised at all when the man lifted his head.

  “I have no idea,” he spat.

  Temple’s smile turned a little harder. “So you say, but if we do find them, believe me when I say I’ll find some new charges to bring against you.” She tapped the monitor controls on the side of the table. “Interview terminated 11:56.”

  She strode out of the room. DCI Crawford followed, and Jacob was off his chair and waiting by the door when it opened.

  He and Temple stared at each other, then he grabbed her around the waist and spun around, swinging her off her feet. She hugged his shoulders tightly, laughing.

  “We did it! We got the bastard!”

  He set her down. “I could kiss you on the mouth right now, Abby.”

  “Eurgh, no!” She laughed, swatting at him. “I don’t know where that thing’s been.”