by Karen Botha
The best hiding spot I can find that won’t render me impossible to find should the worst happen, is a planter. Great! It’s only about a third of my size, but I busy myself with crouching behind it, peering round at Adam’s house. All is quiet.
I check my phone. I have a message from Mo. ‘On our way. Stay safe, don’t do anything stupid.’
The feeling of being alone lifts like a storm cloud on a rainy day. I peek round the planter again.
Adam is at the window with both hands surrendered in front of him. He’s red faced, though, his features contorted as he screams at someone. His hands gesticulate as he shouts, but remain stretched out.
He looks angry, not scared.
I inch forward to the front of the plant pot.
I can’t see who he’s with. They’re hidden by the reflection, standing too far back in the room.
He’s still shouting though. Not the actions of someone trying to save their life. A stab of doubt punches between my ribs. What if I’ve made a mistake and called in back-up when he’s just starting to get on with his life again? People don’t answer their phones one hundred percent of the time. Look at Mo!
Ugh. There’s nothing for it. I’m going to have to go and investigate. I can’t have uniform smashing down his gates with their grand entrance because he’s too consumed with whoever he’s shouting at to check his calls.
And with that, there’s a huge smash.
Too late.
The gates are demolished and a train of dispatch cars rail around the driveway with Mo in hot pursuit. I wave my hands at Mo, showing him the action in the floor to ceiling window.
A hush descends. Mo comes over to me, saving me the effort of struggling towards him. My entire body is once again throbbing, the adrenalin having ceased as soon as I'm no longer alone.
‘I don’t know what’s going on, it may not be as bad as I thought,’ I say.
‘Well, let’s find out. Nothing’s going to happen by just ringing the doorbell.’
‘I’m surprised Adam hasn’t seen us. It’s not like you made a quiet entrance.’
‘Well, us blasting in did make me a bit jittery, but you’re right, he must be consumed with what’s going on in there.’
For the first time, I notice that it’s not standard uniform, but he has the firearms team here too. He chats to the sergeant who then passes his team instructions.
They surround the entrance, and on the count of three, one breaks down Adam’s door. Those at the back of the queue move to the front and through before I’ve had time to register what’s happening. Almost as the last of the team are inside, there’s a tangible violence in the air, shouting erupts. Adam presses himself back against the window, crouching, hand over bent head.
A call of ‘all clear’ rings through Mo’s radio.
I make a start to rush into the house with him. ‘Not you, stay put!’ He points his finger on his outstretched arm at me. I roll my eyes. ‘I mean it, Paula.’
I nod. Of course, I get it. I’m not here in an official capacity, and I need to keep out of that crime scene or risk contaminating it and any subsequent legal case.
And so, I spend a good fifteen minutes resting my butt on the hood of a police car. The light is dimming and the view inside the house becomes more clear. But I can’t see the full room, and so I’m literally in the dark as to what’s going on.
And then I identify her. She is revealed from within the house like a ghost in the night, suddenly coming into view. Elegant as always, she’s wearing a white suit, the copper behind her is carrying a pair of stilettos she’s been asked to remove. Her short pixie cut doesn’t have a hair out of place. She looks as cool as she would have, had she been emerging from a late night party.
Adam
I’ve not been in the office much. Hana had some papers for me to sign so she brought them around for me. Nothing complex. Or so I thought.
Having wantonly signed away much of my assets and certainly most of my financial security, I am, at least, one to learn from my mistakes. So, after mixing Hana a glass of pink gin and tonic, I take a stool at my breakfast bar and lay out the documents in organised piles.
I’m about halfway through when I spot a discrepancy.
‘What’s this for?’ I ask.
‘Oh, it’s signing over assets from Graham,’ she says.
‘What assets?’ I ask.
‘His shares. As Emma isn’t around and he doesn’t have any kids, his assets return to our business.’
I continue to read. The document states that all of his shares, in any interests he has, go back into the original business in an event such as this.
‘Why doesn’t the document state how much will go back?’ I ask. ‘And why does it state interests in plural?’
‘Ah, it’s just terminology, darling. You know these lawyers.’
Hmm, I do. Judith is anything but sloppy. ‘Who drafted this paper?’ I ask with a start, flipping the pages to find a logo.
‘I don’t know, it landed on my desk. There’s so much confusion at the moment with most of our key players, how shall I put it, out of action? Well, this just turned up. I assume it was Judith, but I didn’t see the need to check with her. Just sign it.’
‘But why do I need to sign for shares returned to our company? And why isn’t there any detail of the company?’ I’m speaking to myself, my head in my hands as I study the detail of the page.
It’s not adding up. I don’t understand why I must sign to re-allocate shares back to me. Not within Bright Nights, that is. If, however, this document relates to Bright Knights or some other company which hasn’t yet been unearthed, I’m not about to go signing any new paperwork. I read to the end, without clarification.
‘I’ll just call Judith…’ I say, reaching for my phone.
‘You will not!’ She jabs a horribly cold, horribly hard object into my spine.
‘What is going on, Hana?’ The love I once felt for this woman as a close friend and ally, and later as a lover, dwindled into one of a trusted business partner. I may have asked, but there’s no need for her to answer. I experience an unfolding of the truth in that instant, a dawning realisation that Hana was the one to set me up. That Graham was her scapegoat. Driven by greed and probably lust, Hana had him wrapped around her fingers such that she could manipulate him in whichever way suited her. That between the two people I thought of as family, they set me up for destruction.
‘Why Hana? Why would you do this to me?’ I hear my voice as though it’s someone else's.
‘You lost your ambition. You used to be a risk taker. You cost us money, you stopped developing the business. You didn’t want to hear what we were telling you. You were just interested in holding onto the casino. You didn't want to push yourself. We can’t do anything without your approval. You left us no choice.’
That is it? Her explanation? Complete?
I forget about the gun jabbing in my back, I push my stool back with such force, that it takes her with it. I’m not trying to get away. No, I’m livid. I stalk towards the window, unable to comprehend that people who have shared so much of my life would collude to treat me this way.
I spin around to face her. My breathing is heavy and fast. My mind is working at a million miles an hour. I can’t speak fast enough to spit out everything that races around in my brain.
‘You framed me for illegal businesses… and people trafficking for goodness' sake. You almost killed my friend in the name of profit? Who knows who else you’ve hacked off to make a quick buck. Those poor girls! Are you behind all of that too?’
‘Oh, sit down, you have no clue,’ she spits.
‘Well clearly! But I’m all ears now. Go for it! Fill me in on the details. You can’t seriously be suggesting that you wanted me to go down for this. It doesn’t make any sense. You’d lose everything if my name was sullied, we’re too closely integrated into the casino together.’
‘Oh Adam, grow up! We make more in a day with our other ventures than th
e casino makes in an entire week. You and your infatuation with your high rollers and whales. Those whales spend more on young virgins than they would ever spend at your tables.’
‘Have you seriously been doing all of this for money?’ I scream.
‘Of course! What else?’
I shake my head, my heart heavy as lead. My eyes fill with tears. They’re not tears of sadness, but of despair that money could motivate a person to be so universally cruel, to be so merciless about success that the costs are irrelevant, to develop such a warped sense of the world that they could ever think this behaviour was anywhere close to humane.
‘Was Graham in all of this with you?’ My voice is low again.
‘Yes. He didn’t take much persuading. He’s not like you, never has been. Just flash him some leg…’ She winks.
My eyes narrow. ‘You’re sick!’ My words stick in my throat before I spit them out.
She laughs. ‘Maybe, but at least I’m not dull.’
Really? Who is this woman? I considered us trusted partner. It may not have gone her way on the romance front, but I assumed we were still allies. Yes, we’ve had a few spats about which way the business should go, but I didn’t anticipate that she was so angry.
‘Why did you bother to clone my car? You could have done all of this without the extremes.’
‘It’s fun,’ she shrugs as though in explanation.
‘What is?’ I ask.
‘The game. Increasing the risk.’ She gesticulates with the gun in her hand, wild arm movements that have me ready to duck in a second.
‘I don’t understand?’ Confusion softens my tone.
‘It’s simple. You’re boring. You were uninterested in new risks. You’ve always belittled Graham. I knew that, used him to my own advantage. My Hungarian contacts helped smuggle in illegal girls looking for refuge from their war-torn countries.’
‘So, you masterminded all of this. The whole lot? How can you be so heartless?’
‘It’s up to every individual to make their own path. I managed to make it out of my terrible background and become successful. We were giving those girls money, and they got into the UK. That’s what they wanted. It’s up to each individual what they do with their opportunities.’
‘Surely you cannot believe that? You held children captive. People have died!’ My stomach lurches, locks down tight, and sets like rigour mortise in my core. I pronounce my next words precise and slow. ‘Were you driving the car which hit and killed Graham?’
She doesn’t get time to answer. The door crashes down and in run what feels like thousands of bulletproof fire arms specialists.
Paula
After my altercation with Nuala, and more specifically Jonathan, I’ve not been allowed near the police station. Now that the couple are safely in custody, Mo has granted me access again. Hana is being processed, and we’re passing the time with a full debrief. The team is gathered around in the incident room.
‘Right from the top, Mo!’ Jerry’s voice projects across the small broom cupboard of an office.
Mo nods. ‘OK, from the top! This is what we’ve pieced together so far.’
The team of highly intelligent, highly trained police professionals falls silent.
‘Much of this is conjecture, so we still have loads of evidence to collect, but at least we know what we’re looking for. Bear that in mind.’
Collective groans.
‘Hey it’s overtime.’ Mo announces.
Collective cheers.
‘Right. Adam and Hana have been friends since Uni and in business together from when the casino started ten years ago. Prior to that, Hana had been in the hospitality industry and made a killing herself, so the partnership was a sound business decision. Then, a few years ago, that relationship developed into more. Now, according to Adam, it was a short-lived error of judgement based on them spending too much time together rather than any real romantic chemistry. It ended and as far as Adam was concerned, they continued as they always had.
That could be the trigger. Adam’s dates are sketchy, but Jerome traced transactions back to around the same time for Bright Knights. It appears that Hana approached Graham to join her business venture. From what Adam has said, she seems motivated by boredom, but I bet there’s a fair helping of revenge thrown in too.’
‘Always is!’ Jerry pipes up again. There’s much nodding.
‘Yeah, indeed! Anyway, this all needs proving. It’s only what Adam’s told us, so we’ll cover that off in the interview. But, what we do know, and have proof of, is what happened next. Graham approached Nuala and threatened her job and essentially her son’s life if she didn’t come on board. Nuala had the foresight to record conversations with him so at least that’s dealt with. The scope of Nuala’s involvement included all the administration. So, she would get Adam to sign documents and, when necessary, she deleted the security files from his computer. She also worked with her husband, Jonathan, to help him tap into the surveillance systems to monitor and control the camera footage.’
‘That’s not the whole story, though,’ I say. ‘Jonathan also had an elaborate setup to send out batches of coded text messages from untraceable numbers.’
‘Who was he sending those to?’ Christine asks, flipping her long blonde hair in Mo’s direction.
‘Hold your horses,’ he replies. ‘For now, the businesses are set up, we’ve found five so far. Well hidden. The only reason we discovered them is because Graham got greedy. He started fleecing money out of the casino to line his own pocket by diverting funds through the illegal operations.’
‘So, they were setting up their own hospitality businesses and one opportunity led to another?’ Jerry asks.
‘Exactly. The paperwork Jerome has been trawling through suggests they saw a chance to bring a service in scarce supply to a profitable market. The voyeuristic parties came later.’
‘Right, I’m following so far. But why would Hana knock down Graham… that’s what we’re assuming, right?’ Christine asks.
‘Yes, I’d be willing to put money on Hana having been the one driving the car that killed Graham. We need to get that checked out, though. I assume it’s because he’d been interviewed and was a threat, rather than of use, to her.’
‘Jeez man. Some people are cold,’ whistles Jerry through his buck teeth.
‘We’ll also ask IT to see whether they can’t enhance the image we have now we know who we’re matching it to.’ Mo nods. ‘Just in case she doesn’t spill all the beans.’
The room is silent from a combination of writing notes and digesting quite how callous this case is. Hana has had no good reason to set all of this up except for boredom. She’s been playing with people like the pawns in her game of chess. Objects of entertainment, discarded as soon as their purpose to her is complete.
Mo waits, until everyone has finished their notes and they look up again before he continues. ‘Now, I’m going to interview Hana whilst Paula takes care of the inquiry up here.’
I stare at him, my eyes as wide as they would be had he just pulled an elephant out of his trouser pocket. I try to connect the dots circuiting around my brain. Did Mo put me in charge of part of this investigation?
‘Erm, well sure, if you are?’ I eventually hear the words spill from my lips.
‘Yes, of course. You’ve already been working on the case as it is, and with Steve away…’
I tune out the rest of what he’s saying. Steve away? Where?
‘Sorry, where’s Steve?’ I manage.
‘He’s off sick, some family issues or something.’ Mo answers flicking through his notes.
Family issues!
He’s leaving her!
Right in the middle of this case. He’s taken the initiative and he’s showing me that he’ll do what I need to make our relationship work. My mind wanders from the room, to my front door when he comes with his bags in hand, ready to show me the choice he’s made. Words no longer enough, he’s there demonstrating his commitment
to me. I imagine him folding his arms around my back as I loll in the open doorway, then me melting into his solid torso, our bodies finally becoming one. Maybe I’ll even let a tear escape, who knows, but I’ll stand there for some time languishing in the moment that has been years in the making.
‘Paula, are you OK with that?’ Mo asks.
I look up, torn from my future, committed again to the here and now. ‘Yes, of course. I’d love to run this.’
‘Thanks Mo.’ I bump his arm.
‘That’s OK, just don’t go getting in any more street fights, OK? You’re not to go looking for trouble, paperwork only. Got it?’
I salute. ‘Got it.’ I could kiss him. My mind seesaws from where to start with the outstanding proof we need to gather, to how soon I can get my ass back home to wait for Steve.
I crack my wrists and head out to the floor with my team. Oh, how good that sounds.
Lucy
By the time I’ve finished work and checked my phone, all the commotion is over. When I turn up, everyone has cleared out. As I pull up the drive, the dim light in the house illuminates Adam’s figure as he sits on the sofa. The TV is going in the background casting a colour wheel against his white walls. I use my key for the first time, butterflies floating around my stomach. I remove my shoes and run up the steps, the slapping of my feet announcing my arrival on the hard floors before I arrive in the elevated living room.
Adam is standing when I get there, his face craggy in the shadows, a cross between grief and joy at seeing me. A second hangs before we join like two atoms morphing into one. My skin is warm against the cold of his. I take his cheeks in my hands and pull him to me, my lips meet his, and fireworks explode in my chest. I open my mouth, gentle against his. He follows and the tip of our tongues flick against the other. I pull away, look into his eyes, darkened to anthracite with grief.
‘What can I do for you?’ I ask.
‘Just hold me.’ There’s no hesitation in his answer. He leads me to the sofa, and we wrap ourselves around each other. Our connection is immediate. We can’t get close enough, limbs entwined, tongues corkscrewing, and my body laid flat on his, giving him all my weight.