by Bo Brennan
“I'm being serious,” he said lifting her chin. “If I take your place as trustee, they can't connect the dots.”
Flick frowned and wiped her nose on her sleeve. “Why would you do that?” she murmured. “You don't even like me.”
Ryan laughed. “I'm a gutter hack, Miss Firman. There's nothing for me to lose.”
Chapter 39
Monday 25th July
Hampshire CID, Winchester.
“Where the hell have you been?” Sangrin shouted the second she walked through the door.
India ignored him and took her seat at her desk in the suspiciously empty main office. From the corner of her eye she could see him marching towards her like Hitler on crack.
“Answer me!” he demanded as his stubby little legs arrived at the edge of her desk. “Or I'll be adding insubordination to your long line of misdemeanours as well.”
India rolled her eyes as she logged on to her computer. “Looking for Billy Lewis,” she said.
“Get it in your thick fucking head, there is no Billy Lewis,” Sangrin gritted out through clenched teeth. “Just a psychotic woman on the fucking rampage, thanks to you. Have you got any idea how much trouble you're in?”
“You two get your arses in here,” Firman shouted from his office doorway. “Now!”
India sighed and rose from her seat. She'd only come in to access the domestic violence files, and already wished she hadn't bothered.
“Don't expect to be walking out of here with a fucking job,” Sangrin spat as he stormed ahead of her into the Guv’nor's office.
“Morning, Guv,” she said standing in front of his desk as far from Sangrin as the confines of his office allowed.
“Where have you been?” Firman said curtly.
“Working on the Billy Lewis case.”
“I told you,” Sangrin spat. “She doesn't listen to a bloody word I say!”
Firman eyeballed her. “The case is closed.”
She pulled Billy's picture from her pocket and threw it on the desk. “He's real and he's missing. We can't stop looking.”
Sangrin threw his hands in the air. “That could be anybody's baby on that estate, but it's not hers! I spoke with her fucking psychiatrist; she admitted she made it all up!”
“Only because she wants out of the nuthouse,” India snapped. “There's fuck all wrong with the woman.”
“You are fucking unbelievable!” Sangrin said. “Whose idea was it? Yours or hers?”
India tutted and let out an exasperated sigh. “Can you translate please, Guv? I'm not fluent in bollocks.”
Firman slid a file across his desk towards her, stroking his beard he studied her intently. India silently flicked through the crime scene photos of a middle age bloated man, lying naked on a blood soaked bed. Whoever he was she was glad she'd missed it, didn't do well with blood sprayed walls.
She frowned at the close up of his face. “What's that in his mouth? Is that ....”
“His penis,” Firman interjected.
India raised her brows, explained why the office was empty. “What's this got to do with me?” she said glancing up from the file.
“It's George Sarum,” Firman said.
India’s shoulders slumped. “Great. I guess I won't be interviewing him then.”
Sangrin huffed out a breath and snatched the file from her hands. He sifted through the photos and held one up an inch from her face. “Recognise that?”
India shrugged, shaking her head.
“How about that?” he said thrusting another one in her face.
India snatched it from him. He was seriously starting to get on her tits. She stared at the photo and her eyes narrowed. The close up of the blood soaked name tag inside the school jumper, bore the name Sasha Grant.
“Still think there's fuck all wrong with her?” Sangrin said.
India tutted. “Lisa Lewis didn't do that. She's in the nuthouse you moron.”
Sangrin set his jaw and shook his head.
“She's missing,” Firman said. “So is Mr Sarum's car.”
“Are you saying she broke out of a secure unit?”
“With your help,” Sangrin puffed getting in her face. “We just received her discharge papers from the hospital, Kane.”
India tilted her head past him, looking to her boss. “Translation?”
Sangrin snatched a document from Firman’s desk and threw it in her face, India gritted her teeth as it caught in her jacket. She tugged it free and read Lisa Lewis's discharge papers. Her eyes fixed on the kooky version of her signature scrawled across the bottom and she felt her heart rate increase. “That's not my signature you twat,” she said throwing it back at him.
She damn well knew who put it there though. The stupid squiggly K gave it away. Only one person would be dumb enough and pig headed enough to do that.
“I've got units on the way to your place,” Sangrin said pointing his finger in her face. “If she's there, you're fucking finished.”
India’s eyes narrowed. She stepped forward so they were nose to nose. “If you or anyone else sets foot in my place - you're fucking finished.”
“Is that a threat?”
“No. It's a promise.”
India rolled her eyes as Sangrin began reading her her rights. “Guv, sort him out will you?”
Firman sighed and rose from his seat. “Pack it in, Lee,” he grumbled.
Too focused on being a dickhead, Sangrin ignored him. The second he grabbed her wrist, going for the thumb lock, India elbowed him in the face and slammed him against the wall. Pressing her forearm into his throat, she growled, “This is your final fucking warning. Don't ever touch me again.”
“You've done it this time Kane,” Sangrin gasped as Firman eased her rigid body off of him. “I want her done with assault. You saw that. You're a witness.”
“Stop being a fucking idiot, Lee,” Firman said.
“She's just assaulted a senior officer. Me!” he said dabbing his bloodied nose with the back of his hand.
“Technically you assaulted her first and she defended herself,” Firman said.
“I was arresting her!”
“And I told you to stop!”
“She's harbouring a psycho who's already killed once.”
India casually rested her back against the wall, staring at him like an unrepentant child. “I told you. It's not my signature.”
Sangrin frowned and clenched his jaw. “You also told me you'd finish me if I went near your house.”
“I will,” India said enraging him further.
“India!” Firman barked. “Wait outside.”
India did as she was told, kind of. She went outside, but she didn't wait. If that psychiatric hospital had footage of Lisa Lewis leaving, she needed to get hold of it while she still had a warrant card and police ID.
New Scotland Yard, London.
It had been an awkward journey from the station to the office. Colt hadn't been completely sure she'd even be there to pick him up this morning. But thankfully she was. He'd smiled when he saw her parked at the top of the cab rank, engine idling, radio on, pissing off all the Hackney drivers as usual.
He was pleased they could be grown up about this. So why had he spent the last thirty minutes hiding in his office, trying to pluck up the courage to go out there and just bloody ask her for it? He sighed and picked up his mug. It was cold and empty. In all the time they'd worked together, that was a first. Proof she was avoiding him too.
This was ridiculous. He was the boss; he had to make the first move. All he had to do was avoid the word Ireland. He cracked his knuckles and rose from his seat, casually making his way outside to her desk. “Mags, have you got the registration number of that silver Mercedes to hand, please?”
She flustered in her handbag. “Sorry, I got so into the images database I completely forgot about it. I'll run it now.”
“It's all right, I'll do it. I've got a feeling it might belong to our sweaty friend Mr Roberts,” he said raisi
ng his brows. “Besides, I could do with a little break from the Sanders case.” He gave a little shudder as the images flashed behind his eyes. It made him want to run to the shower and scrub himself raw. Everything that was coming in was leading them nowhere.
She smiled weakly and held the scrap of paper out to him, nails clinging to the edge. Colt didn't want it to be like this. She was his right hand. And right now it felt broken. He tentatively took the details, avoiding all contact as she'd silently specified, and smiled back at her.
Maggie cleared her throat and looked at her watch. “Bloody hell, look at the time. You must be dying of thirst. You want a brew?”
“I'd love one,” Colt said squeezing her shoulder. “For a minute there I thought you'd gone on strike and I'd have to make it myself.”
Maggie laughed. “Christ, if we waited for you to make the coffee we’d all die of thirst.”
He grinned and gave her a wink as he made his way back to his office, happy the break would heal. Settling comfortably into his chair, he brought up the vehicle database and tapped in the registration number of their Irish barn find.
What the fuck? Colt frowned and instantly logged out of the system. He grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair and stuck his head round the tea room door as he passed. “Forget the coffee. I have to go out,” he called.
“Was it Roberts?” Maggie called back.
“Dunno,” he said crumpling the scrap of paper into his pocket. “The system’s down.”
City Secondary School, Winchester.
India stormed down the corridor and flung the classroom door open. “I want a word with you. Outside. Now.”
“Fight, fight, fight,” Craig Markham chanted banging his ruler on the desk.
India snatched it from his hand and snapped it in half. “Get on with your work you little shit,” she growled dropping the pieces at his feet.
“You're breath stinks of pig,” he sneered.
Terri grabbed her by the arm and dragged her outside into the corridor. “Do you know whose son that is?”
“Of course I do, I've banged him up enough times.”
“He's out,” Terri said. “Apparently he's going to pay me a visit.”
“Marky Markham is the least of your fucking worries right now,” India spat. “Why the fuck didn't you tell me you'd sprung Lisa Lewis from the nuthouse?”
Terri shrugged. “I don't know what you're talking about.”
“Don't fuck with me, I've got the hospital footage,” India growled. “Did you persuade her to lie about Billy too?”
Terri set her jaw. “You weren't doing anything. You didn't even believe he existed. They closed the case. What was I supposed to do?”
India glared at her. “For fuck's sake, Terri, they only closed the case because you convinced her to lie. If you'd bothered speaking to me, you'd know I was still working on it! I'm in shit up to my eyeballs because of you and your fucking favour!”
Terri rubbed her brow and sighed. “Sorry.”
“Shove your sorry up your arse,” India raged. “Where is she?”
Terri's cheeks burned red.
“Tell me where she is, Terri. She's caught up in some seriously dodgy shit.”
Terri shuffled uncomfortably and stared at her shoes. “I don't know,” she said sheepishly. “I haven't heard from her since I dropped her off at the social worker's house on Saturday night.”
India turned her face to the heavens, gripped her head in her hands, and let out a long low growl. “I could kill you right now,” she spat kicking the wall. “What the fuck were you thinking?”
“She'll be fine,” Terri mumbled behind her. “She's just going to lead the fat bastard on a bit to get her kids back.”
India spun on her heels, grabbed Terri by the shoulders and shook her. “George Sarum is dead you stupid bitch. She cut his fucking dick off and rammed it down his throat!”
The colour drained from Terri's face. “She....she wouldn't....”
“She did! And you helped her. This is so fucked up,” India said dragging her hands down her face. “I think Sarum was working for the people who took Billy, and if he was - they're going to be looking for Lisa right now. If I found you, how long do you think it's going to take for them to find you too?”
Terri began to shake. “Oh my god, India. What am I going to do?”
India closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them again, Terri was crying. “I'm going to get rid of the footage,” she said. “You're going to go in that classroom, get your stuff, and go to Gray's place. Don't speak to anybody. You understand?”
“Oh god,” Terri whimpered slumping against the wall. “What have I done? What about you? I signed your name to get her out.”
“I'll deal it with it,” she whispered fiercely, cupping her sister’s face in her hands. “You need to lie low for a while. Do you hear me?”
Terri swallowed hard and nodded.
Chapter 40
Red Wall Chambers, London.
“I'm afraid Miss Firman is unavailable,” Jasper said.
Flick lifted her head at the mention of her name in the hallway outside.
“I'm sure she'll make time for me,” the visitor's deep voice replied. “This way is it.”
Flick rose from her desk as AJ Colt ducked through the doorway of her office, Jasper snapping around his knees like a Jack Russell on heat. “This is totally unacceptable, Detective Chief Inspector. She's due to give a law lecture in thirty minutes,” Jasper barked. “If this is about Ryan Reynolds and The Scummy Herald you need to be talking to me.”
“I know all about Mr Reynolds,” Colt said without taking his eyes off of her. “Did you have a nice weekend Felicity?”
Jasper glared up at him. Even puffed to his tallest in Cuban heels, he barely made the man's waist. “She hasn't got time for a chummy chat. She should be on her way to the Inner Temple now. There are two hundred law students waiting.”
“James and I are old friends, Jasper,” Flick said holding Colt's gaze. “I'm sure he'd be kind enough to walk with me to my lecture. We can chat on the way.”
“Nothing would give me greater pleasure,” Colt said sweeping his hand towards the door. “After you.”
Flick swallowed hard and picked up her briefcase. Leon picked up her files. “Not you,” Colt said as Leon smiled and approached him expectantly. “You and I are not old friends.”
“Run on ahead and get set up, Leon,” Flick said with a blasé flick of her wrist. “I'll catch you up.”
As soon as their feet hit the pavement he started. “I'm struggling to understand, Flick,” he said. “Why would you throw everything away?”
“It's not what you think, I swear,” she said touching his arm.
He flinched away and carried on walking, his long angry strides had her running to keep up. “How many times have I heard that before? How many times have you?” he said shaking his head.
“Jim, Please!” Flick grabbed his arm and stopped abruptly when the Inner Temple Gardens came into sight. “We can't talk here, not properly,” she said. “Come by my place tonight. We'll talk it over.”
He frowned down at her and ran his tongue over his teeth. Flick swallowed hard, didn't like what she saw in his eyes. She was half way between the Inn and chambers, about as high profile as her arrest could get without being dragged from the courtroom. “The only conversation you and I should be having is one that's under caution,” he said.
“Jim, our families have been friends a long time. You've known me all my life. Just give me a chance to explain. Please,” she pleaded hating the desperation in her voice.
He drew a breath so deep it seemed to swell him to epic proportions and block out the sun. As he stared up the street to the Inn where her students waited, Flick could feel her heart beat a little harder with every twitch of the muscles in his tight jaw.
“I'll be at yours at five,” he said coldly. “You’ll have one hour.”
Flick let out the brea
th she'd been holding. “Thank you,” she murmured.
“I'm not doing this for you,” he spat. “I'm doing it for your dad.”
Flick watched as he turned and walked away, leaving her standing on the pavement feeling vulnerable and alone. She wondered in the days to come how many other lifelong friends and family members would turn their backs on her too. And wondered if she still had time to change it.
Hampshire CID, Winchester.
The air was so thick in the office, India could hardly breathe.
“I told you to wait outside,” Firman said.
India raised a shoulder. “I thought you'd be a while. I went to St James's hospital to try and clear my name. They don't have any cameras covering reception.”
“You can't carry on like this,” Firman said crossing his arms. “Sangrin's not going to let this go.”
“Sangrin's an idiot.”
“Sangrin's your Sergeant!” Firman said banging his hand down on his desk and giving her the death glare. “If you can't deal with that, instead of behaving like a spoilt bloody brat I suggest you start looking for somewhere else to work. I'm at the end of my rope with you, Kane.”
India dropped her eyes to her lap. She supposed she could've handled the Sangrin situation better - if she didn't hate him so much. The sleazy prick made her skin crawl.
Firman sighed. “The other thing you need to deal with is that Lisa Lewis did this,” he said tapping the file with a finger. “Her prints are all over the place.”
“I don't doubt she did it,” India mumbled tugging the file off his desk. “But I don't think it was intentional.”
“Cutting a man's dick off and shoving it down his own throat is no accident,” Firman said. “What I don't understand is why she didn’t take her daughter's school uniform away again. Without it she probably wouldn’t be in the frame.”
India frowned. “She couldn't have taken the uniform to Sarum. Lisa was already in the hospital when Sasha was dragged out of school. She went there tarted up, wanted to lead him on a bit. Used the only currency she had to get her kids back.”