As she waits on the kerb for the taxi, she looks around the busy Kingston streets. No one is taking any particular notice of her. Because she knows exactly what to look for, Neva wonders how she could have been so imprudent. She had not noticed she was being observed coming and going at the hotel. The Network has been disrupted, but their spies are still everywhere. Stupid! She feels an irrational anger that turns to frustration.
The Uber arrives and Neva gets in. As the car pulls away, she looks out of the windows again. Only then is she certain that no one is following.
The Airbnb turns out to be a quiet cabin on an island in the Thames, reached across a small walkway bridge. Neva feels she can stay here while she decides what to do over the next few days. Exits from London and surrounding stations will be watched. Perhaps Michael was tailed after all and they somehow followed her back as she left him in the bar.
Perhaps approaching him again had been a very bad idea.
She gets out of the Uber and walks across the bridge to the house. When she reaches the cabin, she sees an elderly woman waiting on a small porch that overlooks the river.
‘Amanda?’ the woman asks.
Neva nods.
‘So, you’ve booked for a week. We can do a maid service every day for you but it’s extra.’
‘No, that’s okay. I won’t need it. I may need to stay longer than a week…Is it going to be available? Only the site didn’t show the dates…’
‘I can do a longer-term rental for you. I had it booked out on the system because I’ll be away next week… But if you’re staying and don’t need extra services, then I don’t see a problem.’
They come to terms and Neva presses cash into the woman’s hand that satisfies her for the extra week’s rental. Plus, the woman won’t have to pay commission to the booking company so it’s a win for her all round. This arrangement gives Neva some flexibility if she feels safe here. An exit strategy won’t be a quick decision to make. But if she has to leave this place in a hurry it won’t matter.
The woman opens the door of the cabin and walks in. Neva follows.
The cabin is small but sufficient. Neva has a double bedroom, a lounge-diner-kitchen and a small bathroom with a shower.
‘I’ll drop fresh bedding on the doorstep for you next week before I go away,’ the woman says. ‘Wi-Fi code is in the welcome book on the kitchen counter.’
She hands Neva the key then turns to go. ‘Enjoy your stay!’
Neva closes the door behind the woman. She looks around at the cabin. The place is clean and functional and better than the basic room she’d had at the hotel. She goes into the bedroom and places her few new possessions on the bed.
Then she takes out one of the new phones, activates it and connects it to the Wi-Fi in the cabin.
When she’s fully settled in, she notices a post-adrenaline drop in her mood. In order to relieve the fugue, she goes for a walk out along the river. Rucksack still on her back, she watches as small boats potter along the river. It’s quiet. No one in sight. Neva starts to relax once more.
Chapter Eleven
Beth
There is a tall, pretty woman waiting on the doorstep of the apartment block when Beth and Leon arrive at Angela Carter’s residence.
‘Mrs Tate?’ Beth says
‘Yes. Call me Hilary. Mrs Tate makes me feel like my mother-in-law,’ Hilary says.
‘I’m Beth Cane. This is my colleague, Leon Tchaikovsky.’
Beth flashes her security badge and hands Hilary a card with her details on.
‘We have a warrant here,’ Leon says, holding out a folded piece of paper. Hilary takes it and begins reading.
‘This looks okay,’ she says. ‘But will you wait till my husband gets here? He’s on his way but got stuck in traffic.’
Leon shrugs. ‘Time could be of the essence,’ he says. ‘But a few moments more shouldn’t make much difference.’
At that moment a Mercedes convertible in brilliant red pulls up at the kerb. Jake Tate leaps out and hurries up the driveway. He presses his key fob. The car’s lights flash and it makes a brief beeping sound.
Poser, Beth thinks.
Hilary introduces them and Jake studies their badges and the warrant for a lengthy time.
‘Mr Tate?’ Beth says. ‘We really need to get inside of that apartment now.’
Tate is reluctant but can’t see any reason to object.
‘Aren’t you bringing uniformed officers in too?’ Hilary asks. Her eyes are glowing as though this is the most excitement she’s had in a week.
‘Hopefully they won’t be needed,’ Leon says. ‘It’ll depend on what we find.’
‘What you find? What are you expecting to be in there?’ asks Tate.
‘Mr Tate, we aren’t expecting anything. But we are hoping to have a lead on a missing person,’ says Beth.
Hilary unlocks the main front door and leads Beth and Leon inside. Tate brings up the rear and closes the main door behind them.
‘The building consists of four apartments: two upstairs and two down,’ Hilary explains.
‘Which way?’ asks Beth.
‘Upstairs,’ Tate says. ‘First door on the left.’
Leon takes the key from Hilary’s hand. ‘It’s best you wait outside.’
‘Now wait a minute. This is our property…’ Tate says.
‘I’m afraid you can’t come into the property, Mr Tate,’ Beth says. ‘The fewer people go in the better because any evidence can become contaminated.’
‘Come on,’ says Hilary, taking Tate’s arm. ‘We don’t want to get in trouble.’
Tate frowns but he lets his wife lead him outside. Beth closes the door behind them.
‘What a friggin’ nightmare he is,’ she says, rolling her eyes.
‘Yeah. Now let’s get in that apartment.’
She sees then that Leon already has his Glock 17 in his hand. Beth pulls her gun free from the holster hidden beneath her jacket.
Taking the lead, Leon heads upstairs. Beth follows. When they reach the landing, Beth knocks on the door first as standard protocol: they have to give any occupant the opportunity to answer before they enter.
When no response comes Beth unlocks the door, standing to one side and not in front of it. The lock clicks, and the door springs open. Beth pushes it inwards and peeps around the door into the room.
The room beyond looks empty of people, and there are no obvious traps.
‘Clear,’ she says.
Leon enters first, weapon out front. Then she follows him as they begin an initial safety sweep of the place.
The door leads into a sparsely furnished living room. There is only a two-seater sofa and a small table with one chair. This serves to make the room appear larger than it is.
In the kitchen, a small galley, the surfaces are mostly bare but for a kettle and one unused coffee mug.
They move into the bedroom. A single bed, left as though newly slept in, is the only thing in the room, other than a suitcase, open, with clothing strewn half in and out as though the occupant had been searching for something.
‘So, you live here for six months and don’t add any furniture or possessions,’ Beth says. ‘This isn’t normal.’
Just off the bedroom is the bathroom. Leon puts his gun away, slips on a pair of latex gloves and opens the medicine cabinet. Inside is just a tube of toothpaste and a toothbrush.
Beth stows her gun back in its holster. ‘Not exactly what I expected. What do you make of this?’
‘Looks to me like she knew she was here temporarily and that she wouldn’t be coming back.’
Beth nods. ‘Let’s dust for prints and take whatever she’s left behind for future analysis.’
‘Excuse me? Hey! Is someone in there?’
Beth and Leon leave the bathroom and return to the living room to find a man standing by the front door.
‘Please back out of the apartment, Sir,’ says Leon.
‘You’re not Angela,’ the man says.
‘You know Angela?’ Beth asks.
‘She’s my neighbour – I live across the landing,’ he says. He looks Beth and Leon over. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Official business,’ Beth says. ‘Why did you come over?’
‘Official? I just wanted to tell Angela about the smell. She’s not here then?’
‘No. She’s not. Smell?’ asked Leon.
‘Er … yeah. Who are you?’
Beth shows the man her credentials and asks his name.
‘Look, I don’t know anything. If she’s done something…’
‘Mr…?’ Leon prompts.
‘Kent. Bill Kent. I’m just her neighbour, like I said.’
‘How well do you know Angela, Mr Kent?’ Beth asks.
‘We say hello now and again,’ Kent explains. ‘Is she okay?’
‘That’s what we are here to find out. You said something about a smell?’ Beth says.
‘Oh yeah. I think a cat must’ve got into her garage or something when she stowed her car. Probably dead. The stench is awful.’
Beth and Leon exchange looks. ‘You can smell something from outside the garage?’
‘Oh, it’s a two-door double I share with her. The landlord put a partition up between her side and mine when I moved in. I use mine for tool storage and wanted security. I mean, you never know who your neighbours are or how honest they are. My tools are expensive.’
‘Where is this garage?’ Leon asks.
Kent explains that the garages are at the back of the apartment block.
‘Show us,’ says Leon.
After closing Angela’s apartment door, they follow Kent downstairs.
Tate and Hilary are smoking a cigarette at the end of the drive.
‘Do you have a key to the garage?’
Hilary looks startled. ‘I… No. It’s a padlock and we recommend each occupant buys their own.’
‘Mr Kent, do you have bolt cutters?’ Beth asks.
Kent nods. Then he leads Leon and Beth around the back of the building, through a gate into a concreted area that has two large double garages on it.
Kent opens his side of the garage and Leon steps inside while Beth checks out the lock on Angela’s side.
‘The smell is worse over near the vent,’ Kent says.
Leon goes further into the garage. The walls are filled with shelves and racks containing Kent’s varied tools.
‘What do you do?’ asks Leon.
‘Carpenter. Odd jobs. Anything I’m asked really,’ Kent says.
Leon wrinkles his nose as he reaches a panel with an air vent between the two garage spaces that has been put in to avoid damp in the structure.
‘When did you first notice the smell?’ asks Beth.
‘A few days ago. I saw Ang a week or so ago. We aren’t allowed to smoke in the apartments so I was standing outside when she brought her car round and stowed it inside. She left the door open a bit while we talked, so I guess that’s how the animal or whatever has died in there, snuck in.’
‘You haven’t seen anyone out here since?’ Leon asks.
‘No. Ang locked up. Then she said I wouldn’t see her for a couple of weeks and not to worry. She was off flying to China or somewhere like that,’ Kent says. ‘I said, “Lucky you” and she complained a bit about annoying passengers on flights and said the job isn’t as “glam” as it seems.’
‘Those bolt cutters?’ Beth prompts.
Kent fetches them from their place on the wall.
‘These’ll cut through anything,’ he says.
Leon takes them as Beth holds out her hand. Beth resists rolling her eyes, but barely manages to keep her face straight. Leon’s macho behaviour is annoying her. She’s becoming more frustrated with him every minute.
‘Stay here, please,’ Leon says to Kent. Then he and Beth go back to the front of the garage.
By now Hilary and Tate have come around to watch what’s going on.
‘I’m not sure about this,’ Tate says. ‘Your warrant is for the apartment.’
‘This garage comes as part of the lease, right?’ says Beth as she blocks him from stepping forward to interrupt Leon.
‘Well … yes. But―’
‘Then it’s part of the warrant,’ Beth explains. ‘Now back off.’
Tate goes back to the gate and talks in a low voice to Hilary. Hilary nods and walks away. Tate stands by the gate watching as Leon cuts open the padlock. The lock falls to the floor. Beth glances back at Leon, then returns her gaze to Tate.
Leon raises the garage door. It’s stiff from lack of use, and he puts some effort behind it before it leaps from his hands and starts to pull back on the weighted runners.
‘Beth?’ Leon says.
Beth joins him at the door. They look inside the garage and see Angela Carter’s car parked there as Kent had said it was.
A sickening, musty smell wafts out towards them. Beth and Leon hesitate to go inside. They already have a feeling as to what they will find: the scent of decay is far worse than a dead cat would have generated.
Hilary returns. ‘I called the police,’ she says. ‘They are coming out.’
‘That’s fine,’ Beth says. ‘You’ve saved me a job.’
Leon takes a handkerchief from his pocket and places it over his nose and mouth as he enters the garage. The car is a Volvo hatchback. He glances in through the windows. One of the rear windows is cracked open an inch. The boot cover is in place and he can’t see what’s inside. Leon tries the doors but they are locked. Then he reaches the boot. He presses the button and the boot springs open.
The stench from within overwhelms him and Leon steps back, gagging.
‘Beth, we need a forensics team here now,’ he croaks, making his way back around the car and to the fresh air out front.
Beth pulls out her phone and dials a number. Then she spends a few moments giving her details to someone on the other end of the phone. She also tells them about Hilary’s phone call.
‘Did you get an incident number?’ she asks Hilary now.
Hilary looks flustered. ‘Well, no. I didn’t really call the police. I was testing you.’
Beth shakes her head. ‘Apparently it was a lie. So treat this now as the first report.’
Beth finishes the call.
‘Forensics in fifteen,’ she says to Leon.
Then Beth turns to Hilary and Tate. ‘Don’t go anywhere. They’ll want to question you. And take your prints.’
‘Us?’ says Tate. ‘Why? We don’t know anything.’
‘It’s not a cat, is it?’ says Kent from his side of the garage as it dawns on him that it’s far worse.
‘We’ll need to interview you too, Mr Kent. You’re the last person who saw Angela before she disappeared.’
‘Oh God! Is she in there?’ says Hilary, the colour seeping from her cheeks.
Beth glances back at Leon. Neither of them answers.
Chapter Twelve
Michael
There’s a small parcel in my mailbox when I get home. I’m confused because I haven’t ordered anything online for months. Keeping my back to the security desk, I open the padded envelope. Inside is a burner phone: it has to be from Neva.
I’m still angry with her after last night. I think I’ve been used enough and don’t intend to be pulled into more drama. Even so, I stuff the envelope and phone into my pocket so that it won’t be seen on the cameras in my apartment.
Once I’m inside my place, I put the letters down on the kitchen counter, get myself a beer, and open them sitting at the breakfast bar as per my usual habit. Most of them are junk mail and I throw them in the recycling bin.
I take the phone out of the package but don’t switch it on because of the surveillance in my flat. There’s a piece of paper inside the envelope and I unfold it to find two words and a time.
Byron’s. Kingston. 12 noon.
I assume she means tomorrow, which is a Saturday.
Although I’m off work, I know i
t will be difficult to go anywhere without being followed. I switch the phone on. Turn the sound off and type a text to the telephone number that she’s stored inside.
Too risky, I say.
She doesn’t answer right away. But when she does, she says, I’ll deal with your tail.
I turn the phone off again and then I lie back on my bed.
I’m hot and tired and more than a bit pissed off that Beth and Leon had gone out on some mission I wasn’t privy to. Beth didn’t even come and see me to say they were going out. But then, why should she? I’m no longer her boss, Leon is. They hadn’t returned by the end of day, and I’d gone to speak to Ray about my latest findings on the one case I was being given access to.
‘Where is everyone?’ I’d asked.
‘Out on a call,’ Ray said.
‘Oh. Right. Anyway. No more names. So we only have a few to follow up on. Where do you want me to take this? Should I make calls and appointments with the parents?’
‘Good God, no!’ Ray said as though the idea of me interacting with anyone was grotesque.
I must have shown my surprise, because he then backtracked and blustered an excuse that didn’t ring true.
‘That wasn’t how it sounded,’ Ray said. ‘It’s just we are dealing with something that’s time-sensitive and this might have to wait. For now.’
‘Okay,’ I said. I handed him the files along with the few notes and observations I’d made about the contents. ‘I’ll call it a day then if I’m not needed.’
‘Sure. That’s probably for the best,’ Ray had said.
I had gone back into my office and picked up my briefcase, leaving as fast as I could after that, glad it was the weekend and I’d get to be away from the team for a few days at least.
I was annoyed as I left. And more than a little embarrassed. It was difficult enough stepping back into Archive without the constant reminder that I was no longer trusted and not really one of them anymore. I was sick to the stomach.
As I travelled home, I was sad, then angry, then depressed about the last few months and how my life had been flipped upside down. I’m more upbeat, if serious, and so being miserable didn’t sit well with me.
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