by MA Comley
Lorne smiled. “You fit and willing to start duty now, Sergeant?”
Standing to attention, Katy mock saluted and made for the door.
“Right, let’s go and pay this friendly security firm a visit, shall we?”
CHAPTER TWELVE
They arrived at the swanky office of Trust Us at just after ten. The office was in the middle of a trading estate on the outskirts of East Finchley. The place, which looked more like a showroom than any security office Lorne had ever been in, was decorated in slate grey, and all the furniture was either chrome or black. Two of the four desks were occupied by young, suited men who obviously earned enough not to buy off-the-rack suits.
As soon as the two detectives walked into the office, one of the men gave them a guarded look. He stepped from behind his desk at the rear of the office and approached them, his arm extended ready to shake hands. Lorne deliberately ignored his hand and reached into her pocket to pull out her ID. It was her intention to make the guy feel uneasy from the start.
“I’m DI Simpkins, and this is my partner DS Foster. Show the nice man your ID, will you? Oh no, don’t bother. He’s already seen yours once, hasn’t he?”
Katy had told Lorne outside that he was the guy who’d blatantly refused to give her any of the details she had asked for the previous day, and Lorne was now gunning for him.
The man’s face dropped along with his outstretched arm, and he had the decency to look slightly embarrassed. “I…umm…”
Lorne turned her head sideways and held her ear out to the man. “Come on, Mr.…? I’m dying to hear why you tried to obstruct a case yesterday. For your information, judges don’t take kindly to that kind of thing in a court of law.”
The man’s jaw flew open, and his demeanour was one of discomfort under her glare. “It’s Philip Underhill. Umm…about yesterday. Er…I can explain.”
“I’m waiting,” she said, her eyebrows disappearing under her fringe.
“I was about to go out when…your partner arrived. I had an urgent appointment that I couldn’t be late for. An important client. You know how it is.”
“Actually, I don’t. My partner was trying to ascertain important information that could make or break our case. In all my years on the force, I’ve never had to obtain a warrant to gain a client’s details from a security firm before. Why the heck should your firm be any different? Answer me that, Mr. Underhill.”
The six-foot-two, mousey-haired guy stuttered as he apologized. “I—I’m sorry…You’re right, Inspector.” Turning to Katy, he smiled, though it was more like a grimace. “It was rude and unforgivable of me.”
“At least we’re agreed on one thing. Now, if you have the time, I’d like to see the files you have for the Dobbses and the Kellys.”
He moved towards the black filing cabinet nearest his desk, and after taking a key from his waistcoat pocket, unlocked it.
“Let me see. Ahh, here’s one.” He took a manila folder out of the top drawer and placed it on his desk.
Lorne wandered over and picked up the file and began to read through it. Katy joined her and took the other file from Underhill’s hand before he had a chance to place it on his clutter-free desk.
“What sort of operation do you run here?” Lorne asked, looking up from the file and glancing round the office. “I’ve never seen a security firm with such plush office space before, and I didn’t see any kind of warehouse attached.”
Yes, the building was on an industrial estate, but she had expected some kind of storage unit or factory-type setup. She had her doubts about whether he’d offer her the truth.
“We decided to split the locations. Our warehouse is on the other side of London.”
Lorne frowned. “Why? That doesn’t seem a very practical situation.”
With an air of cockiness he responded, “It suits us. Our systems are second to none. Highly rel—” His cheeks reddened when he realized his mistake.
“Go on. I think you were about to assure us how highly reliable your systems are and your firm is, am I right?”
Underhill fidgeted on the spot for a few seconds before he propped his backside on the desk, tucking his hands between his thighs. “All right. I confess, maybe our systems have been a little dodgy lately, but…”
Sensing he was about to come out with some form of bullshit or other, Lorne raised her hand to stop him. “A little dodgy. No shit, Sherlock. And because of your systems conveniently failing like that, we’ve now got three dead kids lying in our mortuary fridges.”
If Lorne didn’t know any better, she would’ve said that snippet of information was news to him as the colour drained from his scrawny face.
“You weren’t aware of that fact, Mr. Underhill?” she queried.
He sighed heavily. “No, I wasn’t aware of that, Inspector. I’m deeply sorry.”
She gave a brief nod. “I’ll be sure to pass on your condolences to the families concerned. What I want and need to know is why your super-duper systems failed. Twice on consecutive days?”
His sagging shoulders pulled upright and a puzzled look appeared on his face. “Are you implying something, Inspector?”
He was a smart cookie despite looking wet behind the ears and a regular mummy’s boy, but Lorne was smarter despite her two-year absence from the force.
“Should I be? Is there something you want to tell me?” She looked over her shoulder, then back at him and leaned in. “In private, if you’d rather.”
Underhill didn’t appreciate her invading his personal space and edged back a little. “I have nothing to hide, Inspector. The system failed. It’s as simple as that.”
Lorne was intentionally quiet for the next couple of minutes while she looked through the file. It was a trick her father had taught her when she had first joined the force. A sure way to unnerve someone was to give them enough rope to hang themselves with, then to pull back and see how they reacted.
“So my understanding is…Hold on. Before I ask that, is there a report for the breakdown yet?”
“Not yet,” he snapped back.
“Okay, here’s how I see it, Mr. Underhill. First of all, I think it’s shoddy, very shoddy, that you haven’t got a report yet. And second, I find it totally inconceivable to think on two separate occasions your systems conveniently malfunctioned. Furthermore, that the two—no, three—crimes all involved footballers.”
“Now wait just a fucking minute.” Underhill rose to his feet and stepped forward, trying to intimidate Lorne.
She stood her ground and glared at him. “Language, Mr. Underhill. I see you don’t seem to have much respect for either women or the law.” Lorne turned to face Katy and winked. “We don’t take kindly to disrespecting the law, do we, Sergeant? What say we take this down the station?” She turned back to Underhill and suppressed a smile. “Ever been hauled in for questioning before? We’ll even give you the thrill of putting the siren on, if you like.”
He reached for the mobile sitting on his paper-free desk. “We’ll see what my solicitor thinks about that, shall we?”
Lorne shrugged. “You know that’s the first sign of guilt, don’t you? If you have nothing to hide, why would you want to consult your solicitor?”
He forced out a long breath and flicked his mobile across his desk. Looking at his watch, he told her, “I’ve got a client to see in half an hour. What do you want to know, Inspector?”
“I want to see your breakdown reports for the last two years.”
Underhill’s mouth dropped open again, and his colleague, who up till then had remained quiet, sniggered.
The colleague’s smugness infuriated Lorne. She shot him a dirty look and moved to stand in front of his desk. “Something funny about that?”
He laughed again and said, “Our records only go back to the beginning of the year.”
She sharply turned back to Underhill. “Is that true?” When he nodded, she added, “Why?”
“We’re a new business.”
>
“How did you manage to get such high-profile clients then?”
He shrugged. “Lucky break. I was in the right place at the right time and overheard someone talking in a pub. The rest, as they say, is history!”
“Do you have a name for this someone?” Lorne asked, thinking that she was finally getting somewhere.
“Umm…let me think.”
She sensed he was stalling for time and turned back to the squirt sitting behind the desk. “His name?”
Gulping at the harshness in her tone, the man mumbled, “It was Zac something or other.”
He refused to make eye contact with her, so she took that to mean he was being economical with the truth. Baring her teeth in a false smile, she prompted, “Try harder.”
It was Underhill who spoke next. “That’s all I know him as, Zac.”
“All right, which pub?”
“The Cross Keys, just down the road.”
Lorne nodded at Katy to note it down in her notebook. “Is he a regular?”
Underhill’s mouth turned down. “He said he was. Seemed pretty friendly with the busty barmaid.”
Both men laughed, and Lorne shook her head in disgust. If the men thought they had managed to divert Lorne’s attention from them, they had another think coming. “I’d still like to see your reports.”
That wiped the smile off Underhill’s face. He went back to the filing cabinet, and that time, he searched the second drawer down. “There you go. I told you there weren’t many.”
Lorne opened the file and was surprised to find it empty. “You’re kidding me?”
Underhill shook his head and shrugged. “Nope. I told you…our systems are shit hot.”
“Which leaves me wondering why these families had break-ins on consecutive nights in an otherwise fault-free system. Oh, and before you say it, I ain’t really one for coincidences, Mr. Underhill.”
He shrugged. Lorne decided to let him stew on her words and headed for the door. “You don’t mind if we take these files with us, do you?” She raised her eyes to the ceiling and blew out an exasperated breath. “Let’s hope we don’t have any more incidences of mysterious breakdowns for the rest of the week, for your sake.”
For the first time, she’d rendered the young man speechless. He merely nodded his agreement for her to take the files and moved behind his desk to sit down.
The two detectives left before he regained his composure again. They got back in the car and all of a sudden Katy roared with laughter.
Confused by her outburst, Lorne asked, “Something wrong?”
When Katy had calmed down, she replied, “You don’t take any prisoners, do you?”
Lorne smiled and started the car. “Ah, you’ve noticed that. Trouble is, I can’t stand cockiness. The little prick was trying to pull the wool over our eyes because we’re women. Unfortunately, I’ve come across thousands of his sort over the years. I get a thrill putting his type down.”
Twenty minutes later, Lorne pulled up outside the baker’s close to the station where, back in the good old days, Pete and she used to buy their lunches.
Katy went inside and returned carrying three cake boxes and a carrier bag.
Shaking her head in disbelief, Lorne said, “Jeez, you didn’t have to buy the whole shop. I only wanted a sandwich.”
Katy smiled, and for the first time, Lorne noticed the sergeant’s beautifully white teeth that had obviously been touched up by her dentist and the cute dimple in her left cheek. “Thought I’d treat the team to a chocolate éclair. Everyone loves an éclair, don’t they?”
“You know what, I think you’re gonna fit in just fine, DS Foster. Oh, and as I’m the senior officer, the biggest éclair always comes my way.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“Everything all right, Bro?” His brother shuffled from one foot to the other and avoided eye contact with him. “Come on. What’s eating you?”
Zac sat down at the island in the kitchen of his brother’s old but beautifully restored manor house. “Not sure how to tell you this,” Zac said hesitantly.
He sat down opposite and tipped his brother’s face up to meet his. “Just say it.”
“While we were on the job the other night, word has it that another house was being hit at the same time.”
He frowned and folded his arms across his broad chest. “What’s so strange about that? Do you know how many break-ins there are in London every year?”
“You’re missin’ the point, Bro. Another footballer got hit. You know, like we’re doin’.”
The boss man leaned his elbows on the worktop and thought about the scenario for a second or two before responding. Another robbery, focusing on their target victims. Hmmm…He didn’t like the sound of that. His heart started to pump the blood round his veins harder and faster, and he was sure his cheeks had gone red.
He jumped off the stool, and it tipped to the floor behind him. “How the fuck did that happen? What else do you know?”
Zac’s hand trembled and clenched shut. “It’s all a bit sketchy. That’s all I know at the mo, Bro.”
“What plans have you got today? It doesn’t matter. Cancel them and get down the pub. Ask around a bit; see what you can find out. I wanna know who’s behind it, you hear me?”
Zac jumped off the stool and left the room faster than a racing greyhound. After his brother slammed the back door shut behind him, he picked up his mobile.
He had two calls to make, and he drummed impatient fingers on the granite worktop in front of him while waiting for his first contact to pick up.
“It’s me. You told me they were loaded. That was bullshit. I ain’t risking my life again for some piddly bits of costume jewellery, you hear me? Next time, get your facts right…Yeah, killing the kids was unfortunate, but the women wound me up. Be in touch soon.”
He hung up and was starting to get doubts about being involved with this hare-brained scheme. One more job the following week, and they’d have to call it a day. He placed his second call. “Stan?”
“Is that you?” the rough voice asked.
“Yeah, it’s me. You fenced that gear yet?”
“Give us a break, man. It’s only been a couple of days,” Stan replied nervously.
“Well…What the fuck are you playing at? Get it out of the country pronto.”
“Why? What’s going on?”
“Just do it. Don’t ask stupid questions. Get back to me later when you’ve got shot of it. Today, got it?”
“Yep, reading you loud and clear; but if it goes abroad, it ain’t gonna fetch the money it would here.”
“I don’t care, just get rid.” He disconnected the phone and started pacing the room. He hated it when his plans went to pot. Fair enough if he’d been the one to screw up, but he hated it even more when the fault lay at someone else’s door. Now he’d have to sit around and wait. Wait for the gear to be sold and wait for word from his brother. He wasn’t good at waiting patiently. “Rex, come ’ere.”
The doc-tailed Rottweiler trotted into the kitchen and nuzzled at his hand. “Get your lead, son. We’re going for a long walk.”
The dog ran into the hallway and appeared moments later with his lead hanging from his mouth, slobber hitting the Travertine tiles below.
It was time to clear his head and do some deep thinking. If someone was out to make trouble for him, he’d need his wits about him to outsmart them. A brisk stroll down by the canal with his monster of a dog usually did the trick. He smiled at the thought of the dog tearing one of the ducks to pieces like he usually did. Nothing like a bit of blood and guts to brighten one’s day.
• • •
After the team had finished their lunches, Lorne took a spare éclair through to DCI Roberts. He eyed it suspiciously as though he was expecting it to explode any second and plaster the walls of his office with cream and chocolate.
Lorne laughed and explained, “It’s a treat from Katy.” She winked and pointed to the small bulge ove
rhanging his belt that showed prominently while he sat behind his desk. He sucked his stomach in and glared at her. Leaning forward, she whispered behind her hand. “Hey, I promise not to tell your wife.”
He motioned for her to sit opposite him and asked, “How is Foster settling in?”
She detected wariness in his tone. Sitting down, she said, “I think she’s already shaping up to be a good team member.” Okay, it was a bit of a fib. Foster still had a long way to go before she would class her as a top partner; but upon reflection, Pete, who she’d always regarded as good, had more than his share of faults. Most of the time, she had chosen to overlook them.
His hands steepled in front of him. “Hmmm…Is that so?”
“Sir?”
“What’s this I hear about her coming to work looking like she’d just gone three rounds with Amir Khan, then?”
Lorne wriggled uncomfortably in her chair, and her gaze dropped to the desk in front of her. Oh what the heck, he’d find out soon enough. “It’s sorted. She’s going to be staying with me for a few days.”
One eyebrow cocked, he asked, “Is Tony okay with that?”
“Umm…Tony’s on a course for a few days.”
“Oh. I didn’t know. So how did she get it?” She shrugged, and he prompted, “Lorne? You need to tell me. Supposing Greenfall asks me what happened, what am I going to tell him?”
“Give the girl a break, Sean. It’s a personal matter between her and her…”
“What? Her boyfriend did that to her?”
Shit! Me and my big mouth!
Lorne expelled the breath she’d just sucked in and gave a brief nod. “I’m handling it. When we pick up her bag tonight, I’ll read him the riot act. He won’t lay another hand on her if he knows what’s good for him. Answer me this: is that why she was transferred?”
“I have no idea. Maybe it is. Maybe Greenfall and her parents know she’s in an abusive relationship. Maybe they thought the distance would be good for them both. My bet is that they hadn’t anticipated him following her down south. They’ll be livid when or if they find out. What state of mind is she in?”
