Dangerous Girl_An utterly heart stopping thriller

by Emma Tallon

  Getting up out of the bed, she pulled a sheet around her and padded softly through to the main room, looking for Michael. The bathroom door was closed, and she could hear the shower running. He was getting ready for the day. Carla wandered around as she waited for him, looking more closely at Michael’s home. She wondered if he ever really relaxed.

  Her gaze paused on the open door to his office. He must have left it open by mistake. Glancing at the bathroom door to check he was still busy, she hurried over and peered inside. She grinned to herself, knowing she was being cheeky. He had told her it was off limits, and she knew why. He was a Tyler. The details of his business were shady at best – he wouldn’t want anyone seeing. He wouldn’t want to risk exposure. But she wasn’t going to tell anyone; he had no need to worry about her. She knew the score.

  Stepping inside she looked around. It was as stark as the rest of the house. There was a sofa and a bookshelf on one side, and a large desk with a computer on the other. The computer was switched on, both of the wide screens on the desk shining with life in the small room. Carla stepped closer to look at what Michael was working on, curiosity getting the better of her. Frowning, she leaned forward onto the desk, staring at the screen to her left.

  The back of her neck prickled and Carla swung round, suddenly aware that she wasn’t alone. Michael stood in the doorway, a towel around his waist, still dripping from the shower he had just vacated. His face was as dark as thunder, and Carla cowered backward. Michael stepped forward. His voice was heavy with anger as he spoke.

  ‘You really should have listened…’

  31

  Paul smiled crookedly in greeting as he entered Freddie’s home office. Sammy was already there, and he acknowledged him with a nod.

  ‘Alright,’ he said. Checking his phone screen briefly, he slipped it into his pocket and sat down in one of the comfortable stuffed leather chairs next to Sammy.

  ‘Alright, mate,’ Freddie said. ‘We’ve got the footage from the local cameras. Got dropped off at the office this morning.’

  ‘Nice one. Where’s Michael?’

  ‘Running some errands for me – I’m behind. Which reminds me, where’ve you been hiding? Things have been really busy here.’

  ‘I’ve been busy too – had some things to take care of. I’m here now though. What do you want me to do?’

  Freddie frowned and looked at his younger brother. ‘What stuff?’

  ‘Fuck sake, Freddie, stuff! I ’ave got a personal life too, you know. Jesus!’ Paul raised his voice, flustered. His face turned crimson. He didn’t like being the centre of attention at the best of times.

  ‘Alright, mate – keep your hair on. I was only asking.’ Freddie put his hands up in surrender and Paul settled back down, his face moody.

  Freddie pursed his lips. Paul had been acting really weirdly lately – super cagey. They used to be so much closer, but it seemed like Paul was putting more and more distance between them these days. He looked at Sammy, who gave him a subtle shake of the head, indicating that he had no idea what was up with Paul either.

  Closing the door on this issue for now, Freddie turned back towards the computer screen and turned it so that all three of them could see.

  ‘I had a look through this earlier and I think I might have found something. This runs from ten in the evening through to seven the next morning, right? At ten there’s still some activity – not much but some. I figured that probably ain’t them though. Whoever it is is a ghost. My guess is they wouldn’t risk being seen. Same in the morning – it starts getting busy around six. So I fast-forwarded through most of the night and there are only two people that show up at odd times. This one.’ Freddie pressed the play button and they both leaned in to see. ‘He’s just a neighbour stepping out for a cigarette. He goes back in after a minute. Then later on at 2.24 a.m. this comes up.’ Freddie forwarded to the time he had stated and moved back so that the others could crowd in to watch.

  Initially nothing moved. There was nothing on the screen but the view down a quiet road lit up by street lamps. Then out of the bottom right-hand corner a man appeared, his back turned to the camera. He wore a dark jacket and hat, clearly for the purposes of hiding, as it wasn’t cold enough to warrant that much outerwear. He walked quickly down the street, his hands in his pockets until the camera could barely pick him up in the distance. Sammy squeezed his eyes at the screen and moved nearer. Just before he disappeared into the dark completely, the man took a right turn down a side street. Freddie paused the footage and they all sat back.

  ‘He was going east, away from Hargreaves’ house here, and the camera didn’t pick him up on his way in, so he would have arrived from another direction. There was another tape from one of the other roads near the house, but he wasn’t on there either.’

  ‘How many blind roads are there leading in?’ Sammy asked.

  ‘Two more fully blind, and the road the other camera was on is partial. There are side streets meeting it all the way along, and the camera only starts halfway down.’

  Sammy sighed heavily and rubbed his face in frustration. Paul scratched his head.

  ‘It’s not a lot to go on,’ Freddie admitted, ‘but it does give us something.’

  ‘What?’ Paul asked, frowning at the screen.

  ‘Well, we know it’s a well-built bloke. He ain’t that old, the pace he’s bouncing down the road at. And although it’s a very thin connection, I’m guessing he lives east somewhere. He ain’t parked around that corner, because no lights or cars appear on the screen after that.’

  ‘He could have gone the other way,’ Paul chipped in.

  Freddie shook his head. ‘Dead-end street, but there’s an alleyway that runs up towards some bus stops.’

  ‘Well then, he could be going either way, Fred,’ Sammy said.

  ‘I thought that,’ Freddie replied, ‘but I checked the routes out this afternoon. Hargreaves’ house is in the middle of two stops. If he was going west, he would have walked to the one in the other direction. This is of course on the thin presumption that he went to catch one of those buses. You know what this city is like – it’s a maze. There are so many options, but if I was to go with my gut, I’d say he took a bus east.’

  ‘You missed your calling in life, Fred.’ Sammy grinned. ‘You should have been a detective.’

  ‘Fuck that,’ Freddie shot back, laughing. ‘Not enough pay for me, mate. Plus, I’d hate to be the one to put hard-working people like us out of business. There’s criminals, and there’s criminals. We might sit on the wrong side of the law, but at the end of the day we’re just businessmen. The likes of politicians, however, now that’s where they really should be looking. The men who shaft the people.’

  Sammy nodded with a grin. Freddie got particularly het up over dirty politicians. He hated them with a passion. Whatever wrong he did – and he did commit many wrong deeds – Freddie was always fair and looked after those around him. He felt obliged to help the people who got a rough ride and never took undue advantage just to line his own pocket.

  ‘Anyway,’ Freddie continued, ‘I don’t have time to talk about that. I’m not sure how to proceed from here. Any ideas?’

  A silence fell over the room as they each mulled this over. The only sound was the quiet ticking of Freddie’s office clock. Eventually Sammy sat forward.

  ‘If we’re assuming at the moment that he did leave by bus, then he would probably have arrived by bus, right? And if he was coming from the other direction, he probably would have got off at the other bus stop. It’s a long shot, but if he gets away with leaving something on the doorstep he might come round again.’

  ‘I doubt it. If he’s clever he’ll realise there’ll be pigs watching the house at night now. Hargreaves ain’t Joe Bloggs – he’s the Secretary of State for Justice. He has an army of flatfoots at his disposal.’

  ‘Yeah, but… he likes to play with fire, though, don’t he? He wouldn’t have left the ropes on the doorstep if he didn’t.’r />
  ‘True… It’s a long shot, but we’ve got nothing else at the moment. Paul, can you get a man at the bus stop, onwards from tonight. Don’t tell him anything, just the spec of what to look for and follow.’

  ‘Sure, no problem.’

  ‘Sammy, check out the back routes coming in to that stop. See if there’s anywhere you’d hide a kidnapped girl near any of the stops.’

  Sammy whistled. That was going to be a long list. There were a lot of stops and far too many places where this was possible in London.

  ‘I know,’ Freddie said, seeing his face. ‘But it’s all we have, mate.’ He slapped him on the back. ‘We’re going to have to do this the hard way. And I’ll tell you something for nothing.’ His face clouded over. ‘When I get my hands on this fucker, after the threat he’s placed over my head… he’s going to wish he had never been born.’

  32

  Katherine barely moved as her captor entered the room. She didn’t care why he was here. Her spirit was all but broken, her mind wandering in despairing circles. Dark all the time, nothing to look at, nothing to hear, she felt like she was starting to go mad. She could feel sores all over her body from where she had lain too long in this foetid bed. They hurt her constantly, but this was something she was getting used to. Her ankles stung, her bones ached with the cold and her head pounded from malnourishment. Even her teeth hurt now, for some reason. A few sores just added to the fun.

  The light shone in her face, and she closed her eyes against it tiredly.

  ‘You don’t look so hot,’ came the deep computerised tone. She wished she could hear his real voice, just for a second. Maybe she could work out who he was.

  ‘Hah.’ She managed a weak laugh. There was a silence.

  ‘I’ve bought you something. I need you to hold still.’

  The light shone onto a syringe half full with some sort of cloudy white liquid. Katherine jumped in shock and screamed, her voice so hoarse that it barely came out as more than a whisper.

  ‘No, no, no!’ Katherine shook her head and dragged herself as far back as she could. ‘No, please. Please not that – not drugs. Just kill me, please!’ Tears streamed down her gaunt, filthy face, making lines in the dirt on her skin. Her whole body shook in terror. Her captor tutted impatiently.

  ‘It’s penicillin. It’s to make you better. I need you alive.’

  Katherine stared at the needle in horror still, not sure whether to believe him.

  He continued. ‘I brought you a blanket too and a jumper. Should keep you warm enough.’ To prove his point, he threw a carrier bag on the bed with the mentioned items inside. ‘If you make this difficult, I’ll ensure you regret it,’ he warned. ‘Understand?’

  Katherine nodded through her tears, wishing she was anywhere but here.

  ‘Now hold still. This is going in your arm.’

  His leather gloves came into view and grabbed her bound wrists. Katherine winced and sobbed, but she let him take her hands without quarrel. He wiped the skin above her most visible vein with a small, square wet wipe. Katherine could smell the alcohol on it. The hypocrisy of cleaning the needle site, while keeping her festering in all this dirt would have made her laugh if it had been any other situation.

  He held her arm tight, pressed the sharp tip of the needle against her skin and without hesitation smoothly slid it into the vein. Katherine cried out, in fear more than anything else, as she felt the cold liquid enter her bloodstream.

  ‘There, all done. Not long to go now,’ he said, matter-of-factly. His hand was still on her arm, his thumb pressing down on the open needle site to stop the blood. ‘Put your thumb where mine is and keep the pressure on for a couple of minutes,’ he ordered.

  Katherine shivered and pulled her arm back. She awkwardly twisted her hand so that she could replace his thumb with hers. Her captor pulled something out of his pocket and held it forward for her to see. She frowned in confusion. It was a small rectangular object with buttons on it, wrapped in cling film.

  ‘You’re wondering what this is.’ It wasn’t a question – it was a statement. ‘This is a voice recorder.’ Katherine’s heart grew cold as she heard an evil smile curl into his strange, robotic voice, ‘I have a little message that you’re going to read out for me.’

  33

  Tanya laughed and threw a pillow at Anna. They were curled up together on the sofa in Anna’s comfortable lounge, drinking wine and chilling out after a busy week with the club.

  ‘I would pay good money to see you dance on the tables in our club,’ Tanya said. Tears of laughter streamed from Anna’s eyes, and she clamped her hand over her mouth as she rocked with mirth. Her face turned red, and she waved her hands at Tanya.

  ‘Stop! I can’t laugh anymore!’

  ‘Oh come on, are you telling me that you aren’t the slightest bit tempted? Come on, I reckon you’d be really good! Throwing your stuff about. I mean, well… you’d have to actually learn to dance though. I’ve seen you after a couple of tequilas – you ain’t exactly winning any competitions…’ Tanya pursed her lips and shook her hips from side to side with exaggerated awkwardness. Anna shrieked with laughter again and bent her head over, trying to gain control of herself.

  ‘Stop it! I really can’t take any more!’

  Tanya laughed along with her. ‘Yeah, on second thoughts, we can’t afford to lose the business – don’t ever get up on those tables.’

  Anna wiped the tears from her eyes. ‘God, you do make me laugh, Tanya Smith. It’s what I love about you. Talking of making people laugh, I was hoping we could get a date in the diary for a girls’ night out soon. Just in the club, with my friend Amanda. Up for it?’

  ‘Yeah, sure. That the one with the dog-on-heat husband?’

  ‘That’s the one,’ Anna replied. ‘She looked so sad when I met her. Defeated almost. I want to cheer her up, make her smile again. Even if it is just for one night.’

  ‘Sure – sounds good. I’m always up for a good night out, you know me.’

  ‘I do indeed,’ Anna said, chuckling. She reached over to grab her glass and found it was empty. The bottle of Pinot Grigio was too.

  ‘OK, we’re out. Wait here. I’ve got another in the fridge; I’ll go grab it.’

  ‘Grab my phone, will ya? I think I left it on the breakfast bar.’

  Anna’s bare feet padded across the shiny tiles towards the recycling. Dumping the empty bottle inside, she opened the fridge and grasped the neck of the full bottle she had chilling in the rack. She flicked her long, dark hair back over her shoulder where it had fallen forward and looked around the kitchen for Tanya’s phone. As she reached it, the phone beeped and a message came up on the screen. Anna didn’t mean to look, but the light drew her gaze instinctively to the screen. Her mouth formed a wide circle of shock, and her brow furrowed.

  ‘Tanya!’ She marched through to the lounge, absently clutching the bottle.

  ‘What?’ Tanya held her hands up in mock surrender at the sight of her friend’s face. ‘What’ve I done?’ She giggled tipsily.

  ‘You haven’t done anything, but who the hell is sending you this?’ Anna asked. She sounded surprised and annoyed. Tanya reached forward and took the phone. She scanned the message, and her face clouded over. Suddenly she felt rather sober. She opened it and read it properly.

  I know what you’re doing, bitch.

  Tanya sighed and clicked the phone screen off. Anna spread her arms out in question.

  ‘What the hell?’ she asked, concerned for her friend. ‘Who is that? What’s that about?’

  Tanya reached out and took the wine bottle out of Anna’s hand and screwed off the cap. She poured them both a glass and handed Anna hers as she sat down next to her on the sofa again.

  ‘I don’t actually know. I’ve had a couple of weird messages from that number, but if I reply I don’t get an answer, and when I call it, it’s always off.’ She shrugged. ‘It’s probably just a wrong number, some random having a pop at someone who’s pissed them o
ff.’ She didn’t mention all the times she had been followed. There was no reason to worry Anna further; she looked worried enough as it was.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me about it before?’ Anna drank some of her wine and settled back into the corner of the sofa.

  ‘Well, I sorta did. You know that number I asked if Freddie could trace? That was this number.’

  Anna’s eyebrows shot up, and her eyes narrowed accusingly. ‘You told me that was some pervert you’d dated sending rude texts!’

  ‘Well, you never know, it could be. Just… a different type of rude.’ Tanya drank deeply from her glass, avoiding eye contact. Anna shook her head and sighed loudly.

  There was a sound in the hallway behind them, and the front door opened and closed. Two male voices floated towards them, deep in conversation. Anna turned her head to greet Freddie.

  ‘Hey, you. Hi, Paul. How’s it going?’

  ‘Yeah, alright, Anna. You?’ Paul answered politely.

  Freddie bent and kissed Anna’s cheek. He smiled at Tanya. ‘Alright, Tan?’

  ‘Freddie,’ she answered with a nod. ‘Paul.’ She turned her attention towards him. ‘How you been? Ain’t seen you in ages.’

  ‘All good,’ Paul answered shortly. He seemed distracted, Anna thought.

  ‘What you girls been up to then?’ Freddie grinned at them both charmingly. Anna couldn’t help but smile back; his mood was always so infectious. Her smile was tight though. She couldn’t shake off the tension between them, no matter how much she wanted to.

  Tanya grinned and pointed to the wine bottle. ‘Enjoying your local shop’s finest cheap plonk and talking about you, ya dirty bastard.’ She winked to let him know she was joking.

  ‘Oh yeah, anything juicy?’ he replied mischievously.

  ‘Yeah, loads.’

  ‘Freddie?’ Anna interjected. ‘Did anything come of that number I gave you to check for Tanya?’