by MA Comley
“My nemesis, The Unicorn, killed him. He led us into a trap and pinned us down in an alley.” Lorne swallowed noisily, and her misted-up eyes dropped to her half-eaten plate of food. “I never want that to happen again.”
“There’s no guarantee in this job, Lorne. We could be led into a trap every day. Seems to me that criminals are getting smarter.”
Lorne shook her head. “I didn’t really mean that. You see, Pete died in my arms…That’s what I never want to happen again. His death still haunts me, but it’s also what drives me on. You see, he was like a brother to me. Pete didn’t have any family, and I kind of took him under my wing. He was Charlie’s godfather, too.” She inhaled deeply and put a forkful of rice in her mouth.
“Oh crap! I’m so sorry. All I’d heard was that he’d been killed in the line of duty.”
Lorne gave a brief nod. “Come on. That’s enough maudlin chat for one evening.”
They finished their meal, rinsed their plates, and took their wine through to the lounge. Out of habit, Lorne put the TV onto the BBC news but dimmed the sound down low. Then she asked Katy about her experience in the force and her meteoric rise up the ranks.
At first, Katy appeared to be reluctant to divulge much of her private life. Then she settled back in the sofa, tucked her legs under her backside, and said, “It’s nothing to write home about, really. I joined the force at eighteen. I’m kind of like you, in that I struggled in a male-dominated world to gain recognition. Then one day, I stumbled across a bit of information that broke a case wide open, one of the big cases the team was working on. My DCI had been on this gang’s tail for a few years.” She clicked her fingers together then continued, “All of a sudden, I was the best cop on his team, and he put my name forward to take the sergeant’s exam.”
Lorne sipped her wine, and her brow furrowed. “Oh, right. So your promotion had nothing to do with the fact that your parents know Superintendent Greenfall, then?”
Katy seemed surprised by her question and shifted position on the sofa a few times before she responded, “Is that what you’ve heard?”
Lorne felt awkward under her scrutinising glare. Gone was the relaxed manner Katy had shown since they had arrived home. Damn, what did you say that for? “I thought I heard something like that on the grapevine. Never mind. I probably misheard,” she quickly back-pedalled. But she could tell the damage had already been done. “What do your parents do?”
“Mum’s an accountant, and Dad’s retired, although he still participates as a JP.”
A Justice of the Peace, eh? Maybe that’s how Greenfall knows him. “What did he do before he retired?” Lorne asked, intrigued.
“Dad was a property lawyer in Manchester. He retired a few years back. Wish I could retire at fifty-five,” Katy stated, appearing to look a little more relaxed again.
Lorne’s thoughts drifted, thinking about how nice it would be to retire early. Then out of the corner of her eye, an image on the TV screen caught her attention. Diving for the control, she turned up the volume. “Sorry…”
The picture was of a reporter in the mountains of Afghanistan and the breaking news banner read: British Agent caught by the Taliban.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Lorne picked up the portable phone and ran into the kitchen under Katy’s amazed gaze. “Dad? Have you seen the news?” she asked, pacing the kitchen, and running a frantic hand through her hair.
“Lorne, whatever is the matter, child?”
“It’s Tony—”
“What? Lorne, take a deep breath and tell me what’s happened.”
Lorne sucked in a few breaths and let them out, then tried again. “The news, Dad. A reporter in Afghanistan is saying there are reports that a British agent has been captured.”
She heard a chair being scraped on the other end and her father flopping into it.
“Now, Lorne, you know half their stories are conjecture. If it’s breaking news I doubt all the facts are right.”
“But, Dad, they wouldn’t report it if there wasn’t at least a glimmer of truth in it, surely?”
Her father remained silent for a few seconds, contemplating her words. “Okay, here’s what I would do. Wait until you hear something official from HQ before you start believing the reports. Have you heard from Tony?”
“No. That’s why I’m so concerned. He always rings me. Without fail. I know something has happened to him, I can feel it.” Her hand clutched her stomach as if he was in the room with her as tears slipped from her eyes.
“I know, love. My advice would be to keep strong until HQ get in touch. Do you want me to come over and sit with you?”
“No, I have a visitor.”
“Oh, who?”
“Katy, my new partner. She, umm…Well, she’s going to be staying with me for a few days.”
“As you wish, love. I’m sure Tony will be in touch soon. He’s probably just out of communication range. Try not to worry too much. Get some rest, and I’ll ring you tomorrow.”
“I’ll try, Dad. Thanks. I’ll call you if I hear anything. Good night.”
She hung up and put the kettle on. Katy joined her in the kitchen a few seconds later. “Sorry, Lorne. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. Is there anything I can do?”
“I need you to keep quiet about this, Katy. Tony’s on a secret mission. Whatever you heard, scrub it from your memory now. I’m sure he’ll be okay.”
Katy eyed her with pity, which didn’t sit well with Lorne. “If you need to talk, I’m here.”
Trying to show that she was coping with the situation, she smiled. “Hey, we’re a right pair, aren’t we? I invited you here to ease your discomfort, and now you’ve walked into this.”
Katy shrugged. “That’s life, I suppose. There’s always something out there to throw us off-balance.”
“How about a treat?” Lorne asked, determined not to dwell on something that was out of her control.
“What do you mean? In my house, a take-away is a treat.” Katy smiled and raised a questioning eyebrow.
“Ah, in this household, a take-away means it’s pig out night and is generally followed by a tub of ice cream.”
Katy’s eyes almost popped out of her head. “A whole tub?”
Lorne went over to the freezer compartment of her fridge, which was situated by the back door, and pulled out two mini tubs of Häagen Dazs ice cream. The relief on Katy’s face was laughable. “Name your poison: sticky toffee pudding or chocolate and cream.”
Katy puffed out her cheeks. “I’m not sure I can.” Her usually flat stomach protruded, and she patted it with both hands. “I’m so full.”
“Go on. Be a devil. It’ll do us both the world of good to indulge. Just this once, I promise. Then we’ll have a salad tomorrow to make up for our naughtiness.”
Sighing, Katy nodded. “If that’s an order, I better comply.”
“That’s my girl. Now, which one?”
Katy shrugged. “I don’t mind. Either.”
Lorne placed the tubs behind her back. “Left or right?”
“Right,” Katy said, and Lorne handed her the sticky toffee pudding option.
After a further couple of hours of general chitchat and half-watching the crap on TV, they went to bed early, at around ten. They left for work about eight thirty the next morning. Katy told Lorne she looked rough, which wasn’t exactly music to her ears, and insisted she should drive to work.
Lorne had suffered one of the worst night’s sleep she’d ever had to endure. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw an image of Tony tied up in a cave with a guard standing over him. Yes, she was blessed with an overactive imagination, but that was due to Tony filling her in on a few cases he and his colleagues had been involved in over the couple of years she’d known him. His harrowing words were now haunting her every waking moment and rattling around in her head.
Lorne had just settled down to open her post when the phone rang on her desk. She placed the phone between her cheek and her shoulder. �
��DI Simpkins. How can I help?”
“Lorne, it’s Patti.”
She dropped the letter she was inspecting on the desk and gave Patti, the pathologist, her full attention. “Oh, hi. I was going to either call you or come and see you today.”
“You were? We’ll I’ve just saved you a job. Just ringing up to see if you received the post reports on the kids?”
“I did, thanks. Shame they didn’t show up anything. It was worth a shot.”
“Is everything all right? You don’t sound your chirpy self. I know we haven’t dealt with each other much, but I can usually tell what someone’s like within a few minutes of meeting them.”
“Funny, I’ve got a dog like that.”
“Sorry?” Patti asked, puzzled.
“Oh nothing. It’s just a personal issue I have to deal with. Thanks for your concern, Patti.”
“If ever you want to chat, you know where I am. Maybe we could have lunch one day?”
“Maybe when Tony gets back.”
“Sorry?” Patti asked, confusion in her tone. “I take it Tony is your other half. Is he away at the moment?”
Because of Patti’s gentle manner, Lorne felt she could trust the new pathologist, and before she could engage her brain, she had told the woman about the news report.
“Bloody hell! I’m not saying that about the situation, I just didn’t realise we had that much in common.”
“Really? In what way?” Lorne asked, reclining back in her chair.
“My husband is in the forces. Special forces, actually, and he’s out in Afghanistan on a mission at this moment, too.”
“Wow! Have you heard from him lately? How long has he been out there?”
“Between you and me, he’s been out there a couple of months. They’re after some kind of drug warlord. I haven’t heard from him in over two weeks, but that’s nothing unusual, Lorne. Communications are down most of the time over there. They think the Taliban regularly jam the communications equipment. When he does call, it only lasts for a few minutes, if that.”
At last, information that would help settle her stomach and stop her mind thinking the unthinkable. Despite feeling like crap, Lorne smiled. “Thanks, Patti. Talking to you has really helped me put things into perspective. Damn reporters! I’ll get back to you soon, and we’ll make arrangements to have lunch or a celebratory dinner when the guys return.”
“Glad to be of some assistance. Try not to worry, and keep your chin up. Speak soon.”
Lorne replaced the phone and breathed out a relieved sigh, then gave herself a good talking to. “Right, now you’re not to worry about things that you have no control over. Until you hear something definite about Tony’s status, you’re going to give your all to this case.” A soft knock on the door interrupted her. “Come in.”
Katy pushed the door open and placed two cups of vending machine coffee on the desk and sat down. “Sorry, I thought you were on the phone, didn’t want to interrupt.”
Lorne felt her cheeks redden, and her gaze drifted out the window to the tower block offices beyond. “I’ve just given myself a good talking to.” She picked up her coffee and took a sip of the rich roasted blend before her eyes met Katy’s. “Between us, we’re a fine pair at the moment, aren’t we?”
Katy’s gaze rose to the ceiling. “How about we listen to your advice and concentrate on the case?” She stood up, left the office, and returned seconds later, holding the files they’d picked up at the security firm. She handed one to Lorne.
They studied the files in silence for a few minutes, until Lorne looked up and asked, “What date did the Dobbses have their security fitted?”
“April fifteenth.”
“Hmm…The Kelly’s had their system fitted a week earlier, on the eighth.”
“That sounds like another one of those coincidences we keep hearing about,” Katy said, still reading through the file.
“Well, that’s all I can find in here.” Lorne looked at her watch and saw it had just turned ten thirty. “I’ll just try and get on top of the post, and then we’ll head over to the pub, see if we can track down this Zac fella. Can you see what evidence the team has managed to collect so far?”
Katy took her drink with her and left the office. Lorne rifled through the post like a woman possessed and had everything neatly stacked in the relevant trays on her desk within forty-five minutes.
• • •
They pulled up outside The Cross Keys, on the other side of the city, around an hour and a half later. The pub matched the area, run down and in desperate need of rejuvenation. As Underhill had stated, a huge-breasted blonde barmaid was anchored behind the bar. When she opened her mouth, the decibels would’ve sent a sound level monitor shooting off the scale.
As they walked up to the grimy, chipped wooden bar, one of the punters sitting at the bar leaned over and tried to grope one of the barmaid’s prized assets. She slapped his hand away and laughed, a laugh that would rival any wild hyena’s.
Lorne and Katy looked at each and shook their heads in disgust. Eyeing the clientele, Lorne reached into her pocket to check that her pepper spray was handy. It was clear they’d need to be vigilant in this intimidating environment.
“Two orange juices, please,” Lorne said, without the hint of a smile.
The blonde, whose roots were showing, eyed her with disdain and took two bottles of juice from the shelf, along with two glasses, and slammed them down on the bar in front of the two detectives.
“Five quid,” the woman spat out.
Lorne knew the price had been inflated for their benefit by the way the two guys at the bar were sniggering.
After Lorne paid the barmaid, they picked up their drinks and headed for the back of the rundown, smoke-stained pub. They could feel three sets of eyes following them to the torn vinyl bench. Once seated, they had a great view of who was coming in and going out. Ordinarily their surveillance would have been carried out discreetly outside, but Lorne had decided to see what the inside of the pub held. The problem was that two women dressed in smart overcoats screamed ‘police’ and alerted the other punters.
“Friendly bunch, aren’t they?” Lorne said, wiping the lipstick stain off the rim of her glass with a tissue.
“I’ve come across more friendliness on a drive through Longleat,” Katy said drolly out of the corner of her mouth.
“I can’t see anyone matching Zac’s description yet. I suppose it’s still early.”
They nattered away for the next twenty minutes or so until a slim-built man in his mid-late twenties stormed into the pub.
The two men at the bar and the barmaid looked up. Their smiles simultaneously slipped from their faces the second they saw who the customer was.
Lorne elbowed Katy gently in the ribs. “Heads up! Ginger alert.”
The man had obviously already had a few drinks too many. He swaggered up to the bar and placed a foot on the rail at the bottom, almost toppling over in the process. “Got any news for me?”
The blonde raised an eyebrow and her lip turned up. “I told you yesterday. I don’t know nothin’.”
“And I told you I thought you were lying to me. Now give us a name, or—”
“Or what?” A voice bellowed from the doorway. A man in a black, heavy wool overcoat was standing there, two bouncer-type goons on either side of him.
“You?” The redhead, who they suspected was Zac, spun round fast and lost his footing. He slammed into the stool next to him with a grunt.
Out of the corner of her eye, Lorne spotted the barmaid clear her throat and point in their direction with her head. Immediately the guy and his heavies looked over at them with hatred in their eyes.
Lorne picked up her glass, averted her eyes, and murmured, “We’ve been made. Don’t look at him. Just keep talking.”
Their avoidance tactic appeared to work, if only for a short time, as the man in the overcoat turned his attention back to the redhead. “I hear you been asking about me, squirt.” H
e and the two goons took a few steps forward until they were a few feet in front of the other man.
“You?” Zac repeated.
The man in the overcoat glanced in Lorne’s direction again. Leaning forward, he whispered in Zac’s face.
Lorne was fuming that she couldn’t hear what was being said, but Zac’s reaction spoke volumes.
He took a swing at the man in the overcoat, missing his target and ending up on his backside on the floor. “I’ll get you for that,” he slurred and attempted to stand up, only to flop back down, exhausted.
The three newcomers and the punters sitting at the bar all laughed, which made Zac kick out and try to get to his feet, only to fail again.
Lorne watched the somewhat comical goings-on with interest, making mental notes of each of the characters involved. The pub wasn’t on her patch, so she had no idea who the criminals were. It would mean spending hours trawling through the database when she got back, unless she could find out their names. She doubted anyone in the pub would be willing to volunteer any names. Discreetly, she placed her phone on the table in front of her and angled it in the men’s direction. She hit the button repeatedly hoping she had managed to capture a few good images. Only time would tell on that one.
Katy smiled at her and did well to keep the trivial conversation going between them that served as a distraction to anyone looking their way.
Eventually, Zac stood up and staggered towards the man in the overcoat, only for the man’s two henchmen to stand in his way. Zac pointed at the man. “You ain’t heard the last of this.”
The man shrugged. “Neither have you and yours, boy. Take that warning back with ya.”
The thugs shoved him and sent him reeling to the floor, before all three of them, after a quick warning glance in the detectives’ direction, left the pub.
After another couple of minutes, Lorne and Katy finished their drinks and moved toward the pub’s entrance. Before they got there, Zac approached Lorne and stood in front of her. His eyes screwed up in distaste. “What ya doin’ here, filth?”
Put off by the odour of stale booze on his breath rather than his threatening behaviour, Lorne stepped into his personal space and beckoned him so she could whisper in his ear. “In case you hadn’t noticed, Zac, it’s a free country. We can go where we like. Oh, and for your information, your little performance has just put you on our radar.”
