Saffina Desforges' ROSE RED Crime Thriller Boxed Set

by Saffina Desforges

  Red glared at Taylor, then drifted her gaze slowly across the room. “Let me get this straight. An old lady on our manor has been battered close to death, we’re the investigating team, and not one of you has had the decency to visit the hospital? To at least reassure the family we’re doing all we can?”

  A shamed silence answered the question.

  “Sorry, Guv,” Anna said quietly. Others murmured their agreement. Taylor and Harris found their report books suddenly of keen interest.

  “Anna, will you confirm visiting hours for me. I’ll go this afternoon. Hopefully her family will be there.”

  “Will do, Guv. Do you want me to come along?”

  “I’ll handle it. Thanks anyway. But before we move on, I want to make one thing very clear.” Red surveyed her team. “We’re police officers. Detectives. Our job is to fight crime. To put the bad guys away. To make London a safer place. And we’re doing our best. But it’s also about community. About people.”

  Red strolled across to the window. “Yes, I know there’s Victim Support, but when a serious crime happens on my patch, especially a violent crime like this, I want… No, I expect, my officers to get their act together and make sure that someone is there for the victim’s family. A point of contact, to let them know we’re trying. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes, Guv.”

  “And I don’t mean dump the job on Anna. You men are just as capable of showing compassion when you need to.” Red’s eyes rested briefly on Taylor and Harris. “Well, most of you. And yes, I’m as guilty as the rest of you. I should have said something sooner. Made sure it happened.”

  Red let the statement sink in before changing subject. “Now, before we get back to today’s agenda a quick reminder that the American guy Terry Miller starts Monday. Barry? Jez? It would be appreciated if we could give the schoolboy initiation ceremonies a miss? Let him settle in gently?”

  “Us?” Taylor grinned. “As if… Say, d’ya think he’ll have brought his shooter with him? Wonder how many he’s killed?”

  Harris clasped his hands, forefingers forward in imitation of a pistol, pointing at Anna. “So, d’ya feel lucky? Go ahead, punk. Make my day.”

  Red couldn’t help but smile. “That’s why the Met will never routinely arm officers, Jez. Because of complete imbeciles like you somehow getting through Hendon.”

  Jez laughed along with Taylor and the others before the joke sunk in. He glared first at Red, then at Taylor.

  “Okay, so let’s get back to —” Red looked across as the door to the squad room squeaked open.

  Eight pairs of eyes swivelled to focus on the petite blonde with the dazzling white smile framed in the doorway.

  Red beamed a smile back. “Can I help you?”

  “She can help me any day of the week,” Taylor moved his ample girth with unexpected agility to grab the door, his attention torn between the visitor’s ample chest and the bag of do-nuts in her hand. He turned back at his colleagues. “Did someone order breakfast?”

  The visitor stepped inside, barely acknowledging Taylor as her eyes fixed on Red. “DI Rose, if I’m not mistaken,” she said, ignoring Taylor and crossing halfway across the room. The Texan drawl sounded quite out of place inside a London police station.

  “Did you order breakfast, Guv?” Taylor came up to join them, his eyes soaking up the new arrival. “I could murder a good fry-up.”

  The visitor smiled, shaking her head, a shaggy mane of sun-kissed hair whipping around her tanned face. Skin-tight, denim-clad legs took her past Taylor, digging a manicured finger into his marshmallow middle. “You look like you could skip breakfast, tubby.” She extended a hand to Red. “Just stopped by to get acquainted. I believe ya’ll are expecting me Monday?”

  “I’m sorry, Miss, but I think you may have the wrong room. You are?”

  “Miller. Detective Constable Terri Miller.”

  Red’s jaw fell slightly as the news registered. She recovered her composure, breaking into a dazzling smile, glancing around sheepishly as the rest of the team attempted to muffle their giggles.

  Terri looked around bewildered. “Am I missing something?”

  Red stepped forward, turning Terri to face the team. “Everybody, this is,” Red’s fingers made air quotes, “the new guy, Detective Constable Terri Miller. That’s Terri with an i, right?”

  “You got it, ma’am.”

  Red gave a warm smile. “The guys call me Guv at work. Red when off-duty. And Terri, I hate being called ma’am.”

  “But if the Super’s about, or any big brass, ma’am is the correct form of address,” Anna added, extending a hand. “DS Hargreaves. Anna to my friends.”

  “Delighted, Anna.”

  Harris struggled out of his chair to join Taylor at the front.

  “Stay seated.” Red motioned for everyone to settle down. “You can all say hello properly when we break in five minutes.” To Terri, “If you’d care to sit in the boss’s chair, just the once, I’m just wrapping up, then we can chat.”

  As Terri took her seat, enjoying the attention, Red turned serious.

  “Now, there’s OT available on the Bec estates tonight and all this week. Any takers?”

  There was a murmur of approval from the team.

  “Anna will sort hours with you. I’ll be in my office the rest of the morning. The paperwork doesn’t do itself. Anna, hospital visiting times for this afternoon? The rest of you, a fifteen minute recess. Grab a coffee and get acquainted with Terri. Then I want you all on the case, double-quick time.” Red smiled at the new recruit. “Terri, when you’ve had enough of Barry and Jez my office is two doors down. Bring coffee.”

  “You got it, Guv.”

  Red ran a hand through platinum hair, stifling a yawn as she stretched.

  Taylor raised his eyebrows suggestively. “You look like you should go home and get back to bed, Guv.”

  Red smiled wearily. “Thank you, Taylor, but in the extremely unlikely event I ever actually want your advice, I’ll let you know.”

  Chapter 19.

  Red badged her way through the reception queue in the Chelsea & Westminster Hospital, stopping briefly to get an update from the ward sister on ITU.

  “Still critical.” The nurse took a deep breath. “I thought I’d seen it all here. But to do that to an old lady… It beggars belief.”

  “Can I see her?”

  “She’s still unconscious.”

  “If I could just see her anyway. I’ve arranged to meet her son here, but came early to spend a few moments with the victim on her own. If that’s alright.”

  “Of course.” The ward sister glanced at her watch. “Mind you, Mr. Tasker will be here any time now. Drives here from Worthing every day, and never a minute late.”

  “I’d best get in quickly then.” Red smiled her thanks, gently opening the door to Room Three. She crossed between the wall of beeping monitors and the bed to ease the blinds.

  As partial daylight chased the shadows from the bed-ridden figure Red felt her throat constrict, a hand flying to her mouth. The emotions of the previous days rushed to the surface as she choked back a sob, staring at the dry-wipe board, thankful for the distraction from the battered old lady before her.

  “Oh my God.” Red took deep breaths, struggling to regain control as she took in the injuries. “Oh my God. You sick, sick bastards.” She reached across the stiff sheets and took a frail, liver-spotted hand in her own, wires protruding from the translucent skin, bruises pooling where cannulas fed vital fluids.

  “Mrs. Tasker? God, you poor thing.” Thankful to be alone, she let tears drip silently onto the sheet, gently caressing the old lady’s hand in her own. This has to be attempted murder, surely. She tried to picture the previous victims. This was in a different league.

  “Are you okay?” The male voice broke Red’s reverie. A figure half way through the doorway, hesitating to enter.

  “I’m sorry.” Red dabbed her eyes with a tissue. “Mr. Tasker? Detective Insp
ector Rose.”

  “John. Edith’s son.”

  Tasker moved to the bed, gently kissing his mother’s forehead, straightening the sheets.

  Red struggled to compose herself. “I am so sorry that this has happened, Mr. Tasker. And that I haven’t been able to meet with you before now.”

  Tasker surveyed his mother’s condition, turning to Red. “What kind of person would do this to an old lady?”

  “We are doing everything we can to apprehend those responsible, I assure you.”

  “I’m not local, Inspector, but I’ve be doing my homework. This isn’t the first.”

  “No. I’m sorry.”

  “So why are they still out there?” Tasker’s tone was more bewildered than angry, but Red detected an undercurrent of understandable rage.

  She chose her words carefully. “There were no witnesses, Mr. Tasker. No CCTV footage. Nothing to identify the third parties responsible.”

  “You and I both know who is responsible, Inspector. Regardless of the court’s decision.” He saw Red’s look of surprise. “Like I say, Inspector. I’ve done my homework. That gang has run riot on the Bec estate for over a year now.” Tasker gently adjusted the pillows beneath his mother’s wispy, white hair. “She lost my father last year. Refused to come and live with us down on the coast. Swore point-blank that she could cope on her own in that dreadful place.” His voice broke as he bowed his head. “If only we’d been firmer.”

  Red reached out, a comforting hand on his shoulder. “If it’s the last thing I do, Mr. Tasker, I will put those bastards away for a very long time.”

  Chapter 20.

  Red snatched a sideways glance at her partner dishing out the pizza with a cake lifter. The nailed on smile and stiff posture was classic Pippa doing something against her better judgment. Red struggled to keep the smirk from her face.

  “There you go, Darren.” Red passed the plate across the table. “That’ll blow your socks off! Pepperoni, chilli beef and Jalapeño.”

  “Thanks Mrs...”

  Red grinned at Pippa. “You can call me Cass, and it’s Miss thank you very much.”

  The young boy smiled at Red, his cheeks tinged pink.

  “Jack, you’d better not have the hot one,” Pippa warned her son.

  Red placed a restraining hand on Pippa’s arm, mortified by Jack’s squirm of embarrassment. “Jack has had this one before. Right, Jack?” She flicked her eyebrows. “Pizza Hut, remember?”

  “Pizza Express actually.” Jack snatched a slice out of the box before his mother could bring the cake slice to bear, grinning at his new acquaintance. “Yeah, I can handle it.”

  Pippa cleaned her hands for the third time with an anti-bacterial wipe before tentatively opting for a slice of margherita, self-consciously held to her mouth by two forks.

  “So, Darren, whereabouts is it you live?”

  Red sighed. Here we go. Please don’t be south of the river.

  “Not far. Streatham.”

  Bollocks.

  Pippa raised a told-you-so eyebrow at Red, mentally chalking up a point. “With your mother and father?”

  “Just me mum and her boyfriend.”

  A knowing smile. “And what does your mother do, Darren?”

  Darren stopped chewing, staring blankly at Pippa. “Do?”

  “I mean, is she employed in some meaningful way?”

  Red kicked Pippa beneath the table.

  “Of course. She’s got two jobs. Works at an offy, and a cleaning job too.”

  “Oh.” Pippa looked Darren up and down. “So that’s how she affords all the designer clothes.”

  “What, these?” Darren revealed a mouthful of half-eaten pizza as he smiled “All fakes. My cousin brings them back from Thailand and knocks them out at the market.”

  Red coughed awkwardly, avoiding Pippa’s stare. “Jack tells us you’ve only recently moved to London?”

  “Last month.” Darren took a swig from his Pepsi can, wiping a sleeve across his mouth. “From Milton Keynes.”

  “Milton Keynes?” Pippa looked disapprovingly from Red to Jack.

  “Great shopping centre,” Red jumped in, too late to fend off Pippa’s next question.

  “Do you have any brothers and sisters, Darren?”

  Red nudged Pippa’s arm. Pippa kept her gaze on Darren.

  “Yeah, three brothers and three sisters.”

  Pippa sniffed, dabbing the corner of her mouth with a wipe. “Seven of you? All living with your mother and her boyfriend?”

  Darren nodded vigorously, his mouth too full to speak.

  Red noisily refilled Pippa’s wine glass with Diet Coke. “Drink this, Pip. You look like you need it.”

  Pippa ignored her. To Darren, “What about your father?”

  Daren shrugged. Through a mouthful of pizza, “What about ’im?”

  Pippa swirled her Diet coke, studying it as if it were a fine wine. “I mean, doesn’t he involve himself in your upbringing?”

  “Nah. He pissed off years ago.”

  Jack sniggered behind a hand as Pippa shuddered.

  “Darren, I’d prefer you did not use words like that in my home.”

  “Sorry, Miss,” Darren said, grinning at Jack.

  “So your father left a wife and seven children to fend for themselves?”

  “No,” Darren stated indignantly. “Him and Mum weren’t married or nuffin’. And it’s only me. We’ve all got different dads. Apart from the twins.”

  “Of course.” Pippa gave Red a lingering, point-scoring stare. “Is one of your sisters called Chardonnay, by any chance?”

  Darren beamed. “Do you know her?”

  Red kicked Pippa beneath the table. “More pizza?”

  An awkward silence descended. “You’re not saying much today, Jack,” Red ventured. “How was school?”

  Jack shrugged indifferently, taking a bite of pizza. “School’s done for the day.”

  “Okay, you pick something to talk about. So long as it’s not video games.”

  A pause to consider, then: “Cass is a police officer, Daz,” Jack said, a hint of pride in his voice. Red almost dropped the pizza box, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

  Darren stopped chewing, glancing across at Red. “A copper?”

  “An inspector.” The pride was unquestionable. Red beamed. “And Mum’s a lawyer,” Jack continued. “At Crown Court.”

  “So what’s your dad? A prison officer?” Darren laughed at his own joke.

  “A doctor.” Jack added less joyfully, “But he doesn’t live here anymore.”

  “But that doesn’t mean he’s any less a good father to Jack,” Pippa said to Darren. “In fact, he’s taking us all on a trip to the Lake District at Easter.”

  Darren shrugged. “We don’t do English holidays. Mum says they’re crap. We usually go to the Canaries. Mum says that way you know you’re gonna get good fish ’n’ chips and come home with a tan.” Darren’s eyes returned slowly to Red, his words aimed at Jack. “Fancy having a copper for an aunt.”

  Jack hesitated, his pride in Red’s achievements evaporating before her eyes. “She’s not my aunt. She’s... That is...”

  An awkward silence ensued, Darren looking mystified.

  “Why don’t you take the rest of the pizza to your room, boys, and play some X-Box?” Red suggested.

  “Absolutely not!” Pippa almost choked on her Diet Coke. “I do not allow food upstairs.”

  Red shooed the boys along. “Just make sure you bring the empty boxes down.” Blazing eyes dared Pippa to object.

  Jack grinned. “Thanks, Cass! Come on, Daz.”

  Red waited until the boys had left the room before turning on her partner. “Pip, you really are going to have to learn to chill.”

  “People do not chill, Cass. Chilling is what one does to food, in a refrigerator. And white wine.”

  Red theatrically palmed her forehead. “Give me strength. Can’t you climb off your pedestal just for one bloody day?”


  “I noticed young Darren looked slightly uncomfortable when Jack mentioned you were a police officer? I bet his father’s got a record. As for the boyfriend... You could check them both out.”

  “Pippa! Seriously!”

  A slight smile danced on Pippa’s lips; Red couldn’t resist kissing them. She leaned into her partner, the tip of Red’s tongue grazing her lovers’ teeth. “Mmm, four cheeses. My favourite.”

  “Well, Inspector, how about we head on upstairs and you can show me your truncheon?”

  “Oh yes, with the boys right next door? Not with all the noise you make.”

  “Me? You’re the one who...”

  “Besides, Ella and Rubes will be back any minute now.”

  Pippa tutted loudly. “Her name is Ruby, Cass, not Rubes. Please.”

  Red slumped back in the chair, defeated. “Just chill, woman, for Christ’s sake.”

  “It’s February, Cass. If you’re feeling warm, turn the thermostat down.”

  Chapter 21.

  “How’d it go, guys?” Red relieved the au-pair of a frost-pinched child, cuddling Ruby to her. “Hi, gorgeous. Missed you.” She stood aside to let Deimante and Ella through. “Enjoy it, Els?”

  Ella didn’t look up from her phone as she stormed into the hallway. “Not bad, considering we were banished from the house just so Jack could have a friend over for tea.”

  Red rolled her eyes at Deimante. “Thanks, Dei’. We owe you.” To Ruby, “Did you enjoy your Happy Meal, princess?”

  Ruby nodded, holding up the carton. “I got Scrat from Ice Age.”

  “Scrat?” Red cast a mystified glance at Deimante, mouthing, “Who?” To Ruby, “My favourite, babe. Bet you’re pleased.”

  “But I wanted Snow White.”

  “Snow White isn’t on at the pictures anymore, gorgeous. Not your version, anyway. But you can watch it on DVD tomorrow.”

  “Can I watch it now?”

  “Rubes, it’s very late. It’s bed-time.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry.” Deimante looked at the time on her phone, her face etched with worry. “I thought we agreed it was okay to be back by—”