by Michael Wood
Vivian, sitting at the table behind Malcolm, had been splattered in the face with the blood from his head. She was shaking and struck dumb with shock. She looked down and saw the dead-eyed stare of her husband looking back at her. On the table in front of her were the brochures that were signalling the start of the next chapter in their lives together. A few minutes ago she was happy, now… She looked up.
‘Jake, please, no,’ she pleaded.
Her son stepped forward into the kitchen, the gun aimed at his mother’s chest. He fired once. The impact of the bullet caused her to fall off her chair and onto the floor.
Jake moved around and looked down at his stricken mother. She was still alive, gasping for breath, the pool of dark red blood growing bigger as it leaked into her dressing gown.
He aimed the gun at her and fired three more times.
Chapter Two
09:00 – South Yorkshire Police HQ
Detective Chief Inspector Matilda Darke was sat in Assistant Chief Constable Valerie Masterson’s office. She was on her third coffee of the morning, and it still wasn’t light outside yet. It was nine o’clock and the heavy clouds hanging over Sheffield were a harbinger of bad weather on the horizon. It didn’t look like the cold winter sun would be penetrating it for a while.
Valerie leaned forward and switched on her desk lamp.
‘I can’t see a bloody thing,’ she said, turning around and looking out of the large window. She rolled her eyes and turned back to the report on her desk. ‘You’ve managed to cut overtime for the last three months in a row,’ she said, surprised.
‘You did ask me to.’
‘I know, but you don’t usually pay attention to what I say.’
‘If I continue being insubordinate, you won’t recommend me for promotion in the summer,’ Matilda said with a twinkle in her eye.
‘I thought there was a reason behind it somewhere. So, you’re itching to get into my shoes then?’
‘I’ll need a bigger size.’
‘Nice things come in little packages,’ she said. Valerie was exactly five feet tall. She was dwarfed by her huge desk and high-backed chair. She may have been small, but she had a titanic personality and commanded a magnificent presence wherever she went. ‘What made you change your mind?’
Promotion for Matilda had been on the cards for a while, but she’d always ignored the idea. The last thing she wanted was to be sat behind a desk for eight hours a day, only reading about what was happening to the people of Sheffield in a report. However, recent events had forced her to change her mind.
‘Me staying as a DCI is blocking other people from achieving more. Scott’s passed his sergeants’ exams but there’s nowhere for him to go. I’d like him to stay within South Yorkshire Police as he’s a bloody good detective. For him to move up, I need to move up. Besides, it would be nice to leave work at a decent hour in the evenings.’
‘To spend time with Daniel?’
Matilda blushed. ‘There are only so many times you can cancel a meal out before he starts looking elsewhere.’
‘He’s not, is he?’
‘Not yet, but he’s a man, he will eventually.’
Daniel Harbison was an architect who had helped make her new home habitable. He was also a close friend of her late husband’s. Over the past year, they had grown closer. She hadn’t wanted to enter into a relationship with another man following the death of James, but she couldn’t ignore her heart, and her feelings for Daniel were growing stronger by the day.
‘Sian was telling me the other day that you’d been spending more and more time together. Haven’t you been away for a few weekends?’ Valerie asked, coyly seeking gossip.
‘One of these days I’m going to murder Sian,’ Matilda replied as she reddened. ‘Yes, we have been away,’ she failed to hide her smile. ‘Although…’ She stopped herself.
‘What?’
‘Nothing.’
‘No. Go on,’ Valerie prompted.
‘I think I’m starting,’ she lowered her voice despite there being no one within earshot, ‘the menopause.’
‘Oh. What symptoms do you have?’
‘Well, none really, but my periods are out of sync, and I came on this morning and it was heavier than usual.’
‘Might be worth popping to see your GP.’
‘I always associate menopause with getting old,’ she said, deflated. ‘I remember when my mum started with it – she made it sound like the end of the world. Then again, she’s always been overly dramatic.’
Matilda’s meetings with Valerie usually veered off to the personal side of things. They’d known each other for years and had been through a great deal together. When James died, Valerie gave Matilda all the support and time she needed before returning to work.
Valerie leaned back in her chair. ‘The hot flushes were a tad embarrassing for me. I’d feel myself going bright red and the sweating … good grief. I could feel it pouring off me. I remember once, me and Arthur…’ Her face dropped. Her bottom lip trembled, and she put her head down to hide her emotions.
Matilda looked on. It was strange to see her austere boss exposing such raw feelings. ‘How are things with Arthur?’
It was a while before Valerie answered. She swallowed hard a couple of times before looking up. ‘No change.’ She shrugged. ‘We had an offer on the house at the weekend, which we accepted, and the bungalow is ready to move into. I just didn’t see my life heading this way,’ she said, a lump in her throat.
A year ago, Valerie was considering early retirement so she and Arthur could travel around Europe in a motorhome while they were still young enough to do so. Arthur had been retired for less than six months before he suffered two massive strokes that left him without the power of speech, movement or the ability to do anything for himself. They were now having to move from their farmhouse in Derbyshire to a generic bungalow on the outskirts of Sheffield.
‘Are you still taking early retirement?’ Matilda asked.
‘I don’t have any choice. Arthur needs round-the-clock care.’ She took a deep breath and smiled painfully. ‘I’ll be gone by September, and I can’t think of anyone I’d like to take my place more than you.’ It was evident by the tears in her eyes that Valerie didn’t want to leave.
‘Will you be leaving your coffee machine, too?’
‘You can piss off.’ She laughed.
Matilda headed down the corridor towards the Homicide and Major Enquiry Team she oversaw. In recent months, and with a budding romance on the horizon, Matilda had started to get into shape again. She felt confident as she walked with her head high, her back straight and her shoulder-length dark brown hair flowing. She even had a smile on her face, which was something rarely seen unless she had several glasses of wine inside her and was picking plot holes in the Marvel movies with her best friend Adele.
‘Ranjeet,’ she called out to Detective Constable Ranjeet Deshwal, who was entering the HMET suite ahead of her. He stopped and turned around.
Tall, slim, incredibly good-looking and with a gorgeous head of shiny black hair, Ranjeet smiled and stepped towards her.
‘How long is it until Kesinka’s back at work?’
Kesinka Rani was Ranjeet’s wife. They’d married after a whirlwind romance. She had fallen pregnant on their honeymoon and was due back from maternity leave any time now.
‘Twenty-first. Two weeks yesterday.’
‘Is she looking forward to it?’
‘Absolutely. I think she’s going stir-crazy.’
‘Have you got childcare sorted?’
‘Yes. My mum’s looking after him three days a week and her mum the other two.’
‘Excellent. How is little Hemant?’
‘He’s fine,’ he said with a beaming smile. ‘Not so little now. He’s like a little rugby player, bless him.’
‘Who knows, maybe you’ll have a whole team at some point.’
‘I’d love more. Kesinka isn’t too keen. The birth was quite painful.’ He
winced.
‘Wow. Who’d have thought squeezing an eight-pound baby through the eye of a needle would be so painful. Someone really should have mentioned it before now,’ she said with a sarcastic grin on her face.
Ranjeet held the door open for her and Matilda entered.
The HMET team had shrunk slightly in the past year. The cruel death of DC Faith Easter had been a bitter blow. However, her replacement, DC Finn Cotton, had fitted in perfectly. With Kesinka off and DS Aaron Connolly no longer on the team, their number was depleted, but they were a strong team who worked well together.
DI Christian Brady was coming out of his office when he saw Matilda.
‘There’s a call for you,’ he said.
‘Oh. Who is it?’
‘They wouldn’t say.’
‘What do they want?’
‘They wouldn’t say.’
‘You’re a mine of information, Christian.’ She smiled. ‘I’ll take it in my office.’
‘Line two,’ he called out after her.
Matilda entered her small office in the corner of the suite. She closed the door behind her and picked up the phone. ‘DCI Matilda Darke. Can I help you?’
‘You’re a survivor, aren’t you, Matilda?’ The voice was low and deep.
‘Who is this?’ She frowned.
‘But what’s the point of surviving, when everyone around you is dead?’
The caller hung up.
Matilda put the receiver down. She searched her memory to see if she recognised the caller’s voice. She didn’t. Putting it down to a crank call, she picked up her iPad and headed out into the main part of the suite where her team were waiting for her to begin the morning briefing.
Matilda cleared her throat. ‘Right then, good morning, everyone. Now, before we begin, I’d like us to take a moment to reflect on a piece of sad news I received yesterday evening.’ She looked up to see a sea of concerned faces looking at her. ‘As some of you may already know, PC Natasha Tranter has accepted DC Rory Fleming’s offer of marriage, and I think we should all offer our deepest commiserations to her at this difficult time.’ She couldn’t hide her smile any further.
Cheers and hollers were heard around the room as those who didn’t know stepped forward to shake Rory by the hand, ruffle his hair, and slap him on the back.
Matilda had never seen Rory blush before. It made her smile even more.
‘Seriously though, congratulations, Rory. I hope you’ll both be very happy together.’
‘Thank you, ma’am,’ he said, running his fingers through his curly dark hair.
‘Bloody hell, Rory Fleming settling down,’ Christian said, a beaming smile on his face. ‘And they say miracles don’t happen.’
‘Single women all over Sheffield will be calling the Samaritans,’ Sian said, kissing him on the cheek. ‘Congratulations, Rory.’
‘Yes, well done, mate,’ Ranjeet said, slapping him on the back. ‘Don’t blow it.’
‘Now, let’s get down to business, shall we?’ Matilda said once she’d basked in the glow of Rory’s embarrassment. ‘Sian, you’ve been conducting weekly meetings with the street workers. How are things?’
DS Sian Mills reached for a folder in her in-tray. ‘It’s all been quiet recently. There’s nothing new to report. Bev was saying no other prostitutes have gone missing. It looks like the killer has gone to ground or moved on.’
In the past four years, six prostitutes had gone missing from Sheffield. One had been found murdered. Matilda was working alongside the women to help them feel safe on the streets while also trying to find the killer of Denise, and the whereabouts of the other missing women. So far, they’d hit a brick wall.
‘Let’s hope so,’ Matilda said. ‘Have you been in touch with other forces to see if they’ve had any go missing?’
‘Me and Finn are working on that.’
‘I’ve been concentrating on neighbouring forces and moving out,’ Finn said as he flicked through his iPad, ‘but I’ve found nothing locally.’
‘Good. Now—’ She stopped as the sound of the fire alarm broke out.
All eyes turned back to Sian, who was the team’s fire marshal.
‘I haven’t been told about any test today,’ she shouted above the alarm.
‘Ok,’ Matilda said. ‘We all know the drill. Over to you, Sian.’
Sian had already reached into the bottom drawer of her desk and taken out her fire marshal’s high-visibility jacket. ‘Ok, people, leave quietly and calmly. Make your way down the stairs on the left-hand side and go to the nearest fire point,’ she said as she put the jacket on and picked up her clipboard.
‘Where is the nearest fire point?’ Rory asked.
‘I knew you weren’t paying attention. Back of the car park. There’s a very clear sign you pass every morning. Take nothing with you,’ she called out to the rest of the team, competing with the noise from the alarm. ‘Put your laptop down, Scott. Just leave the building.’
Matilda and Sian were the last to leave the suite. As she did so, Matilda took one last, lingering look at the office to make sure no one was left behind before turning away and heading down the stairs.
In an orderly fashion, uniform and plain-clothed detectives and civilian staff made their way out of the building and into the damp winter air. All teams had to remain together for the heads of each department to make a roll call.
‘I hope the place doesn’t go up,’ ACC Masterson said to Matilda in passing. ‘I haven’t had my new Gaggia a month yet.’
‘I bet you’ll let me have it if it’s fire-damaged.’
‘If I get back to the office and I see it’s been tampered with, you’re in trouble, my girl.’ She pointed up at her with a wicked smile on her face.
‘I’m surprised you didn’t bring it out with you.’
‘The plug’s behind the filing cabinet. I can’t move it on my own. And I know what Sian’s like when she’s in official mode. She scares even me.’
They both laughed as they watched Sian directing everyone to where they should be. She was in her element.
The building emptied and everyone stood back and looked up. There was no smoke, no flames, no smell of anything burning.
Rory searched the crowd and his eyes fell on his fiancée. She held up her left hand and pointed to the ring. It was the first time she’d worn it to work. Now everybody knew they were engaged. He grinned at her and she blew him a kiss.
‘Everyone knows now,’ DC Scott Andrews said to Rory, his best friend. ‘No backing out.’
‘I’ve no intention of backing out,’ he said. ‘Best decision I’ve ever made.’
‘Any idea who your best man might be?’ he asked, hopping from one foot to the other to keep warm.
‘I was thinking of asking Christian,’ he said with a sly grin.
‘You better bloody not, Rory Fleming.’
‘I was joking. Of course it’s going to be you, you knobhead.’
They hugged.
‘Great!’ Scott smiled. ‘I’ll start working on my speech. I’ve got some embarrassing stories to tell about you.’
‘I don’t get embarrassed.’
‘That’s true. You’ve no shame whatsoever. We need to start thinking about a stag weekend. I’ve heard Dublin is great,’ Scott said, his eyes lighting up. ‘We could get a minimum of say ten people, get the ferry across and—’
There was a scream. Both turned around and saw a group of uniformed officers standing around someone on the ground.
‘Rory!’ Natasha shouted. She was squatting down, looming over a uniformed officer lying on the wet concrete. Her face was one of worry. She held up her hands to show Rory. They were red.
‘What’s going on?’ Scott asked.
‘I’ve no idea,’ Rory frowned as he headed for his fiancée. He started in a walk before speeding up. He was almost at her when her whole body jerked. She seemed to have been hit by something. She fell to her knees and then to the ground.
‘Natasha!’
Rory cried as he raced to her.
‘She’s been shot,’ someone shouted.
‘What the fuck’s going on?’ another called.
‘Someone’s shooting at us.’
‘It’s a set-up.’
‘Everyone, back inside the building. Right now,’ Valerie shouted.
Pandemonium set in as, in a hail of bullets, officers and staff ran back towards the building. Glass in the windows shattered and bodies fell to the ground as people were hit. Screams rang out around the car park as everyone pushed and shoved to get to safety.
Rory was knocked in every direction as people headed for the building. He couldn’t move. He remained, stricken, rooted in place as he looked down at the lifeless body of the woman he loved.
‘Natasha?’ he asked quietly.
Her eyes were open and lifeless. A pool of blood began to grow around her.
Rory sank to his knees. He carefully lifted her up and cradled her.
Sian froze. She held her clipboard to her chest and looked on in horror as her colleagues fled back to the safety of the police station. She watched as they started to fall. Tears pricked her eyes. She was powerless. She had no idea what was going on and fear took over.
‘Sian, come on, we have to go back inside,’ Ranjeet said. He grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled at her, but she wouldn’t move. ‘Sian come on. We can’t stay out here.’
She looked at him with confusion. Horror was etched on his face. ‘What’s happening?’ she asked, visibly shaking.
‘I don’t know. But we have to—’ He didn’t finish his sentence. A bullet hit him in the head, spraying Sian with his blood, brain matter and fragments of bone. He dropped to the floor at her feet. She opened her mouth and screamed.
Christian Brady ran towards her. There was blood on his white shirt and spatter on his face. He looked petrified. He grabbed her and pushed her towards the building.
Sian started running. She dropped the clipboard and tripped over it. She landed on the cold, wet ground, banging her head on the concrete. She heard the sound of more gunshots raining down on them. Something landed on her, pinning her to the ground. She screamed and scrambled to try to get up but couldn’t.
