Carley kept a safe distance but did not let the woman out of her sights as she rounded a corner. Carley quickened her pace as she did not want to lose her, and as she came around the corner, she noted that the woman had disappeared. Carley searched about frantically, and then stopped on the sight of the brightly lit staircase descending into the Tube station. She quickly hopped along, then hurried down the stairs hoping that she had not lost the woman to a departing train. Carley reached the metal turnstile and speedily swiped her Oyster travel card and barged through the bar, plodding toward the descending escalator and skipping on the cascading steps. As the escalator began to descend, Carley spotted her. She was near the bottom reaching the end. Carley doubled her efforts and began to race downward, careful not to lose her footing and tumble.
As Carley reached the bottom she looked frantically to each platform – one was going east and the other west. She threw caution to the wind and opted to go left on to the east platform. She scampered through the archway, onto the long winding platform as it gently curled alongside the charcoal coloured track. She swiftly threw her head in each direction trying to spot her target, but she was nowhere on the platform! The wind on the platform picked up as an approaching train produced a vortex. Carley turned as she realised that the train was approaching the neighbouring platform going in the opposite direction. With a determined vigour, she hastily spun around and bolted across the middle concourse between the subterranean platforms. Almost leapfrogging, Carley took the biggest steps that she could, covering as much ground. The train whizzed along the platform and Carley could see the dazzling windows sail past through the small tunnel entrance to the platform. Panting like a sprinter she emerged onto the platform, ruthlessly searching for her prey. The doors of the train opened, and Carley spotted her prey waiting for alighting passengers to disembark, before stepping on to the carriage. Carley wasted no time and scrambled toward the carriage as the shrill bells signalled the closing of the doors. Carley launched herself through the air, almost fly-tackling the boarding passengers, including the blonde woman, causing her to fall to the train floor, with Carley landing on top of her.
“What is wrong with you?” The blonde woman protested at Carley, as she sat up briskly, trying to recompose and gather the elements that had fallen from her bag and strewn across the train floor.
“I’m so sorry,” Carley lamented, vigorously trying to help the woman return the contents of her life into her bag. “Let me help you.”
But Carley’s offer was met with scorn as the woman, tugged her belongings away from Carley and promptly got to her feet.
“Nice jacket,” Carley smiled as the woman straightened her attire and moved to the end of the carriage as far away from Carley as possible.
Carley carefully rose to her feet as the other passengers returned to the mundanity of their commute. She turned to face the black tunnel fissures sweeping by on the outside of the train carriage. In her hand, she clasped the staff access card she needed to get into Scotland Yard.
~
Scotland Yard was deserted at 3am apart from the scant service personnel that occupied a few desks. Carley wasted no time in assuming the alter ego that she had worked so hard in acquiring. She donned an unflattering grey polo shirt embroidered with Clean Angels, that she had liberated from her victim’s locker and wore it over her ripped denim that exposed a portion of her upper thigh below her buttocks, hoping no one would notice. She despised the cleaner’s uniform and couldn’t wait to disrobe from it, but it was necessary to maintain her charade and accomplish her solitary mission.
Carley wheeled the cumbersome cleaning caddy into the large service lift and took a deep breath as she watched the doors shut behind her. She watched the illuminated panel display the floor numbers as she ascended and eventually it settled on the fourth floor, coming to a juddering halt. The doors shuddered open and before her lay the entire CID floor. Tentatively, she pushed the cart forward. This was her first visit to the fourth floor, although she had been to the second where she met with Miles Munroe, something she now regretted. But deep down, on some level, it was an action that made her see how Nick had truly felt about her. In the diner, the previous day she saw something in him that she had not seen before – and that was hurt. She felt terrible that she had to go to such drastic lengths to see it, but she needed to. She needed to see that he cared and that she wasn’t just there when he was alone and needed the warmth of her pungent presence next to him. She wanted to see that he felt something – maybe even love. It wasn’t that she needed to hear it, because he would not say it. That much she knew was true, but she could read him pretty well and she read his heartbreak at her going to Munroe. It was a wound that she had to administer, just to see if he would bleed for her. And he did. Now she would have to nurse that wound back to health, she thought to herself, as she walked passed a desk that displayed the nameplate DC Narendra Shankar. She smiled proudly as a sense of allegiance produced warm emotions of determination. She was going to do this.
She parked the cart up against a glass partition in front of the office door that displayed the words Chief Superintendent Rory F. McNeill. She had never met the man, but something in his name made her feel uneasy. She reached into the storage drawer and produced a set of keys with the worn tag Fourth Floor written in barely legible black handwriting, and began trying the different keys, hoping that one would strike true and open the door.
Carley had tried eight different keys until one seemed to turn the lock only halfway, jamming on a formidable sticky turn. Carley placed all of her might trying to turn the lock, but it would not budge.
“Pull on it,” A voice echoed from behind a dimly lit desk. “The Superintendent’s door gets quite sticky. Pull it then turn the key.”
Carley could not make out whom the voice had belonged to, but she welcomed the much-needed advice and followed it. The door popped opened on the action and Carley pushed her way into the office quickly as her heart thumped with excitement. She realised that she was risking so much as she moved quickly to plant herself in front of the PC on McNeill’s desk. Security wasn’t as strong as she anticipated, but then nobody in their right mind would risk breaking into Scotland Yard anyway.
Carley tapped on the keyboard, and the PC awoke from its slumber as the screen lit up. She then removed the access card, that she obtained from Ron, and inserted into the card reader as the machine prompted. The screen went straight to the desktop with the picture of a French pug. Carley winced at the sight of the smug looking animal. She placed her hand on the mouse and moved the cursor to a file folder and clicked it open. Then she typed the words, Khan into the search bar and clicked enter. A list of files dropped down on screen in front of her. Carley scrolled carefully through them and then paused on one of them titled A_Khan_468942_4th July 2014. Carley double-clicked on the file as a dialog box prompted: Encrypted file – Password required.
“Fuck sakes,” Carley muttered under her breath, searching around the room looking for a clue to the password. Carley then stopped as she realised what it could be and ‘minimised’ the file window, staring at the desktop picture, squinting at the screen trying to make out the letters on the name tag. She carefully made out the word that the letters formed and then typed the word Winston into the password box. The file opened. In front of Carley sat the frozen image of a dispossessed Adilaah Khan. Somehow the grainy image haunted her.
The grey morning light was beginning to protrude through the closed blinds and Carley realised that time was escaping her. She turned her attention at the clock on the PC. It was almost 5:30am. Quickly she removed a flash drive from her pocket and inserted into the USB drive, and then copied the file. She watched the progress bar, poking her head up from behind the P.C, ensuring that her presence had not been detected.
“Carmon!” Carley exclaimed, frustrated at the slow pace of the computer. Suddenly the outline of a figure appeared outside the door to the office. Hastily she dropped down to the floor and tried
to eject the flash drive, but the file copy was incomplete.
“Fuck sakes,” Carley cursed.
McNeill stood before his office door in befuddlement, staring at the cleaning cart parked outside it. He approached it cautiously inspecting its curious position. He could hear a commotion originating from within the office. He placed his hand on the door, but it was locked. There was a stirring in his gut and he became suspicious. McNeill inserted his key slowly into the door and pulled then pushed it after unlocking it, and dubiously entered. McNeill surveyed the dark cold office. At the opposite end a window sat ajar and the blinds flapped in the ensuing wind. McNeill moved quickly through the office toward the window. He shut it with vigour and then a brush of movement alerted him from behind. He spun around but the was nobody there. But somebody had been. He could sense it. Someone had disturbed the perfect equilibrium of his office. The intrusion made him feel out of place in his own office. Then he looked at his desk. It was not as he left it.
Carley had barely enough time to remove the flash drive, lock the door and hide under the desk. Her heart pounded in her chest as she heard the door open and somebody enter. It must have been McNeill, but she could not tell. She had managed to open the window as part of a hastily hashed plan that she had concocted as she waited for the drive to conclude. She hoped that the window would distract him long enough so that she could stealthily crawl out from behind the desk and be out the door before it closed, and he turned around. True to form McNeill went for the window, and with all the courage she could muster she stealthily scampered from under the desk and slid out the door just as it shut, and he turned around. But he knew that someone had been in his office. But it did not matter. A few minutes later she was back on the street, and she tossed the unflattering cleaning uniform into the bin.
She had done it. She had got Nick what he needed to restore his faith in her.
And in them.
16
Nick savoured the Jack Daniels as the gentle burn of the bourbon swilled down his parched throat. He had missed the flavour and intensity of the drink that previously, he would consume by the bottle. But tonight, he needed some respite and the sweet fragrant liquor was enough to do just that. Carley had told him to meet her at their usual wobbly table in The Green Man. The night was quiet and there were only a few regulars assuming their usual positions at the bar and at the tables. Nick watched as Stewart seemed more engrossed in two girls seated at the bar sipping sparkling champagne from long stem glasses, interspersed with gleeful giggling. They seemed out of place in a pub like this, and perhaps they had come across town to see how the other half drinks. Nick stared at them, thinking they were probably more suited to a bar in Chelsea, rather than the salt-of-the-earth joint that this was. But still, Stewart seemed to be entranced by them, smiling like a giddy schoolboy, topping up their drinks with persistence, perhaps hoping that he could get in their posh knickers.
Nick wasn’t sure why he had even come tonight, but he was curious. She had told him that she could help and set things right. Although he wasn’t sure what that would mean exactly. He was still determined to bring Adilaah’s real killer to justice, but for that he needed evidence, and even if he had that, he knew he was pitting himself against everything and risking it all. She said that she could help and so he told her that he needed the details of Adilaah’s statement when she was questioned after her beating, if it even existed. Nick had to remind himself that he was going on a lead provided by Nadir, a suspect that might have been lying to save his own skin. But his gut told him otherwise. And now Carley was going to do something rash in order to bring him that evidence.
Nick wasn’t sure what she even meant when she said she would call on some old favours in to get her hands on what he needed. Her misplaced and skewed loyalty could land her in prison. A sudden feeling of denial shrouded his thoughts and Nick realised he didn’t even want to know what she was up to. Judging by her past, that could be anything, often dubious and illegal. Better that he didn’t know. Especially in as, this is how this whole Tyson mess got started in the first place. She was trying to earn his favour. And perhaps he was done with her favours.
But then just as he gulped that remaining contents of his drink, a plastic object was slid on the table in front of him. Nick looked up to see Carley, standing proudly before him with a look of grandeur.
“What’s this?” Nick enquired with a look of concern.
“It’s what you wanted,” Carley declared.
Nick picked up the plastic flash drive and examined it. “How did you?” He muttered.
Carley rolled her eyes unwilling to reveal her exploits, and she plonked down into the seat opposite him, taking the weight from her tired loins and exhaling deeply.
“I don’t know what to say,” Nick said softly, as he fondled the flash drive in his fingers and caught Carley’s gaze. She did make this better and he wanted to tell her that she did well, and that he had forgiven her for going to Munroe. But he could not. The words refused to come, and he just stared at her with a vacant smile. Carley sat back quietly. She did not need his words. She knew she had redeemed herself and she knew how he felt despite his lack of words. That was enough for her, and she reached down into her coat pocket and produced the Gold Locket necklace and slid it across the table cupped in her hand.
“Give me your hand,” Carley offered.
Nick reluctantly placed his hand on the table and opened his palm. Carley opened her cupped fist and released the necklace into his, caressing it as she removed it. Nick looked at it with remorse. That necklace was the harbinger of doom. Everyone who touched it seemed to have met their untimely end. Even though he was happy to see it back with him, he could not help but think he wanted to be rid of it too.
“Munroe has nothing on you now,” Carley declared. “My confession never mentioned you. Just Ron.”
She stared at the necklace longingly. Nick focused on the necklace that sat in the palm of his hands and then he turned his attention toward Carley. He could sense that she saw the necklace as means for redemption, as a chance to be on the same par as Adilaah or even his mother. To her it meant that she could be vindicated and finally feel something that she had never felt before – to belong and be valued.
“Come here,” Nick said as he succumbed. “I want you to have this.” He leaned forward, undid the clasp and placed the jewel around her firm neck.
Carley could hardly contain her delight and wrapped her arms around his head as he retreated and kissed him on the lips. This time the kiss was different. It wasn’t filled with passion or lust, but love, and it lingered as they savoured it, eyes shut and inhaling each other’s essence. For the first time Nick didn’t want to pull away. It felt special and he did not want to fight it like he had so many times before. His heart was pounding, and he did not want to let her go.
“You know I…” Nick stuttered, but his words could not emulate how he felt.
“Words don’t come that easy for either of us, do they?” Carley replied, smiling at him.
“Unspoken words,” Nick said as he reflected. He had said the same words to Adilaah once.
“Sometimes they just get in the way,” Carley replied.
~
Nick sat in front of his compact dining table in front of his laptop. He was sure that Carley would have wanted to spend the night, but he needed to analyse the contents of the flash drive she had brought him. So, he left her to make her own way home while he returned to his apartment. The taste of Jack Daniels lingered on his palette and he craved another drink, but he resisted. He needed to be completely lucid for this vital information on the drive. Nick inserted the drive into the USB port and the file marked A_Khan_468942_4th July 2014 appeared on screen, and he clicked open the file as a feeling of foreboding enraptured him.
A series of photographs and scanned documents appeared as mini icons on the screen and Nick slowly opened each one. The first was an image of Adilaah’s arm, bruised with red and blue blotches. N
ick perused further, revealing a close-up of bruised abdomen, then a cut eye and swollen purple left eye.
Nick clicked open a report and read through. He had read many reports in his short career but none of them made him feel sick as this one did. With each line of the report, the glaring truth tore a strip out of his doubt and tolerance for her unfortunate fate.
It read;
Victim severely beaten with bruising over 70% of body.
Victim has significant abdominal haemorrhaging and vaginal tearing.
Pregnancy test: positive.
Aggravated, Nick closed the file and then opened another. Nick felt his heart sink as he witnessed Adilaah’s dour terrified expression, as the video file began to play.
The voice of a female Constable filled the speakers as the camera stayed firmly on Adilaah.
A Time Honoured Killing Page 12
