Saffina Desforges' ROSE RED Crime Thriller Boxed Set

by Saffina Desforges

  “Ella, I’m sorry,” Red flustered. “About the film, I mean.” She searched the room for a change of subject. Her eyes fell on Ella’s skirt. “El’, you didn’t go out wearing that, surely?”

  “Get with it, Cass. This is the fashion.”

  “Your mother might have a different view on that. What it supposed to be, a skirt or a wide belt?”

  Ella nonchalantly picked up Ruby’s book. “Yeah, well you don’t tell and I won’t share the contents of my phone online.”

  Red hesitated. “Meaning?”

  A wry smile. “The bedroom door was open, Cass.” Ella tapped her mobile.

  Red’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh my God! You didn’t...”

  Ella shrugged indifferently, turning to Ruby. “Ready, Tues? Here goes. Once upon a time there was...”

  Chapter 33.

  “Did you know Ella was home already?”

  “Hmmm?”

  “She’s reading Rubes her bedtime story.”

  “That’s nice.”

  “She must have come in when we were upstairs.”

  “That’s nice.”

  “Why do I get the impression you’re not listening to me?”

  “Fine thanks. How was yours.”

  Red slapped her palm on the table. “Pip!”

  Pippa looked up from her papers. “Sorry?”

  “It’s okay. It doesn’t matter.”

  “Then why tell me?”

  Red let out a sigh of exasperation. “Let’s change the subject.”

  “We have yet to select a subject.”

  “Okay, let’s talk about Deimante.”

  “Deimante?”

  “She can drive,” Red stated.

  “I’m very pleased for her.” Pippa browsed a page. “Why would I want to know that?”

  “Well you’re always complaining about her travelling on public transport.”

  “No, I complain about her taking my children on public transport. I just do not understand why she cannot use taxis like normal people.”

  “You know exactly why. If I was ever assaulted in a cab I’d feel the same way.”

  “But that was in Eastern Europe. It wouldn’t happen here.”

  “So there’s never been an assault by a taxi driver in London?”

  “Just what is your point, Cass? Can’t you see I’m busy?”

  “So how about if we got her a car of her own?”

  “Who?”

  “Deimante. Will you listen for five bloody seconds?”

  “Buy Deimante a car?”

  “Just a cheap runabout. Then she wouldn’t need to use the bus or tube, and it might improve her punctuality too. We’d all benefit.”

  “I’m not sure I want my children being seen in a cheap runabout.”

  “You know what I mean. A small city car. We could pick one up second hand.”

  “Second hand? You mean a car someone else has owned first?”

  “That is the standard definition.”

  Pippa put her papers down, staring thoughtfully at Red. “I see your point, Cass. If Deimante had her own vehicle the children wouldn’t need to go on that dreadful underground contraption. Although I am not sure about having my children in a second hand vehicle. They might contract something.”

  Red sunk her head into her hands. “Give me strength.”

  Chapter 34.

  DCI Bill Andrews glanced pointedly at his watch as Red slipped into the rear of the briefing room.

  “So glad you could join us, Inspector.”

  Red looked up in surprise at the DCI’s curt tone. She flashed a disarming smile. “Sorry, Guv.”

  The smile was not reciprocated.

  Red ventured, “Have I missed much?”

  “DS Hargreaves will bring you up to speed. I’m just wrapping up.” He cast his eye across the room, ignoring Red. “Okay, everyone, let’s look busy.”

  Red managed an embarrassed grin at Anna as Andrews pulled the door closed behind him. “Someone obviously got out of the wrong side of bed this morning. Almost glad I was late. Anything new?”

  “Nothing exciting, Red. Burglaries up. Car thefts up. Drugs up. Same old story.”

  “Everything up except staff numbers, pay, overtime and morale,” Red finished. “So what’s the guv in such a huff about?”

  “I think the Super’s on his back.”

  “Oh?” Red waited patiently for Anna to continue.

  “Best speak to the guv, Guv,” Anna parried.

  Red raised an eyebrow. “Is there something I don’t know?”

  “Only that the Super’s grandson is in the cells.”

  Chapter 35.

  Red gently pushed open the door without knocking. Bill Andrews looked up from his keyboard and smiled.

  “Cass?”

  “Got five minutes?”

  Andrews shoved back his chair, wiping an arm across his brow. “Might be less, I’m waiting on a call.” He gestured to a seat.

  “Sorry about this morning, Guv.”

  “This morning?”

  “Deimante’s bus. Again. Black ice incident.”

  “I don’t follow.”

  “It’s why I was late.”

  “Late?”

  “For the briefing. You nearly bit my head off!”

  Andrews looked mystified. “I did?”

  “Either you or your twin brother.”

  Andrews slumped back in his chair. “If I did, I apologise. I’ve got a lot on my mind just now.”

  “The Super’s grandson?”

  “You’ve heard then.”

  “Station tittle-tattle. Do you want to fill me in?”

  The telephone pre-empted the DCI’s response. “Andrews. Right, Sir. On my way. Oh, I’ve got DI Rose here with me... Yes, she has. Yes, Sir. I quite agree.”

  He put the phone down. “The Super requests our company.”

  Chapter 36.

  Superintendent Colin Blake poured three mugs of coffee.

  “Cassandra, thank you for coming along.”

  “Sir.”

  “Obviously you know about my little problem.”

  Red shrugged nonchalantly. “There are some rumours, Sir.”

  “Precisely. Which is why I want you and the DCI to ensure the real story is out there too. Warts and all, as Cromwell might say.”

  “Sir.” Red opted to keep quiet about just how in the dark she was.

  The Super took a long sip from his glass. “As you know, my grandson Peter was arrested last night. By the time the officers realized who they’d got in the cells it was too late. Peter was logged in and on the system.”

  Andrews leant forward. “Has he been charged with anything?”

  “Not yet. They’re trying their best to postpone it, but the clock’s ticking.”

  “They could bail him pre-charge,” Red suggested. “Pending further investigations.”

  “They could, but I’ve asked them not to.”

  Red arched an eyebrow. “Sir?”

  “Look, this is deeply embarrassing for me, no question. But I do not expect, and do not want, special treatment. Whatever Peter’s got himself involved in, he must take the consequences like any other lad his age.”

  Red asked, “And what has he got himself involved in, Sir?”

  The Super shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “My grandson was arrested and found to be in possession of Class ‘A’ drugs, with intent to supply. And he was still wearing his school uniform.”

  Chapter 37.

  Red stared aimlessly out of the window as Anna Hargreaves negotiated the London lunch-time traffic.

  “I don’t get it, Guv. How would a kid like that get involved in drugs?”

  Red shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

  “It’s not as if he’s some lager-lout off the estates.”

  “Stereotyping a bit, aren’t you, Anna? Kids don’t need a deprived background as an excuse to turn to crime.”

  “But he lives in your neck of the woods.”
>
  “Meaning?”

  “Well, not being personal, Guv, but I could never afford a place in the West End.”

  Red raised her hands defensively. “Nor me! I’m only a lowly DI, Anna. It’s not my salary that pays for that place.”

  “Yeah, but the kid lives not far from you. Egerton Crescent?”

  Red let out a long sigh. “How is it I’ve been to see the Super, you haven’t, and yet you know more than me?”

  Anna flashed a smile. “Privilege of rank, Guv, you know that. The lads still share gossip with me. Just about. Once you get to DI you’ve crossed the line.”

  “Don’t I know it.” Red stared out of the window, watching the queue of people at the bus-stop, flurries of snow blowing in their faces. She thought of Deimante.

  “You don’t regret it, Guv, do you? Taking the promotion, I mean?”

  “That was over a year ago.”

  “All the more time to see the downsides, Guv.”

  Red pondered the question. “There’s good and bad, Anna. I miss the camaraderie. The team spirit. But that was before Barry Taylor took Jez under his wing. I had such high hopes for Jez when he joined us.”

  “Yeah, me too. I wouldn’t lose too much sleep if Taylor were to leave us. I sometimes wish it were him on sick leave instead of Farmer. Mind you, it’s a close call. Both obnoxious bastards in their own way.”

  “Tell me about it,” Red sighed. “Seems he’s never happier than when making my life difficult. How about life as a DS? Is it living up to expectations?”

  Anna grinned. “Being able to give Barry Taylor orders is worth its weight in gold, Guv.”

  “But seriously, you can only go so long at a job before it all becomes tedious. Even policing. The novelty of being a DS will soon wear off. Give it two years and you’ll be enviously eyeing my desk.”

  “By which time you’ll be DCI, right?”

  Red laughed. “Not a chance.”

  Anna indicated to pull in through the gates of the Lord Mountbatten. “Not even if Bill takes an early one after Christmas and puts your name forward?”

  Red spun in her seat. “How the hell do you know about that?”

  “I told you, Guv. Privilege of rank.”

  “So Taylor will have heard too?”

  “Possibly not. I heard it in the girls’ lockers.” Anna studied the school’s traffic signs. “Great. Staff car park by the main building. Visitors’ car park somewhere miles over there. What do you reckon?”

  “You’re the driver, Anna. But as an officer of the law and pillar of the local community I respectfully draw your attention to that sign that says unauthorized vehicles will be clamped.”

  “Sod it. Well, it’s too bloody cold to walk all that way. Guess that authorizes us as honorary staff for the day, right?”

  “I’m not sure that’s quite how it works.”

  “Sorry, Guv. I signed this baby out, so that means I outrank you on this one.”

  Red smiled. “If we get clamped, Detective Sergeant Hargreaves, just remember it was your idea.”

  Chapter 38.

  “DI Rose, DS Hargreaves.”

  They shook hands with the primly dressed Principal, making small talk while a second chair was brought to the front of the elegant Queen Anne walnut desk in the spacious office. The Head gestured for them to be seated as the day-monitor pulled the door closed.

  “So what can you tell us about Peter?” Red opened. “As a pupil, I mean. I’m guessing his arrest is somewhat out of character?”

  Mrs. Imelda Barton held herself rigid a second, as if deciding which way to go, then let out a long sigh, her mind made up. She shook her head to reinforce her bewilderment, the blue rinse holding firm.

  “Totally out of character. Peter was a model pupil. Or so we thought.”

  “You do understand he has not been formally charged with anything yet.”

  “I spoke to Superintendent Blake this morning and he warned me charges would follow later today. I must say I am quite at a loss to make sense of this. We had such high hopes he would follow his family heritage and either join the Police or the Royal Navy, but now...”

  “Navy?”

  “Peter’s father? Commander Blake?”

  Red shrugged. “I had no idea. We just know about Peter’s grandfather, right Anna?”

  Anna thoughtfully studied her fingernails.

  Red glared at Anna before turning to Mrs. Barton. “We’d like a copy of all the information the school has on Peter. Family background, academic history, everything.”

  Mrs. Barton looked horrified. “But data protection. I’m not sure I can…”

  “Data protection will not keep Peter’s name out of the papers, Mrs. Barton,” Anna said. “And I think it safe to say that Peter being a pupil here at the Lord Mountbatten will not be overlooked either.”

  Mrs. Barton nodded thoughtfully. “The Board of Governors are meeting tonight to discuss the matter. Obviously if I can offer them any reassurances then...”

  “We make no guarantees, you understand,” Red said. “We can’t be seen to be deliberately suppressing anything. But what the heart doesn’t know... If the press get hold of this it won’t be through us, I can assure you. But just in case, we need as much information as you can give us if we are to minimize the damage. Anything you hand over to us will be in the strictest of confidence, I promise you.”

  The Head raised a hopeful eyebrow. “Anything?”

  “Mrs. Barton?”

  “I... That is... One moment.” The Head picked up the phone and spoke briefly to the secretary. “Can you photocopy all of Peter Blake’s records for me. Yes, all. Have them on the desk ready for my visitors as they leave, but don’t disturb us before then.” Mrs. Barton put the phone down, absently watching a pigeon try to settle on the window ledge outside.

  Red leaned forward. “Is there something you need to tell us?”

  Mrs. Barton took a deep breath, retrieved a key from a desk drawer and crossed to a cabinet on the far wall, fumbling nervously with the lock. Opening the door she extracted a wooden tray and brought it to the table.

  Red let out a low whistle, studying the pocket mirror, razor blades and cut straws with an expert eye, before looking to the Head for further explanation.

  “We don’t normally pry into the lockers of our students, you understand. But in these exceptional circumstances I took it upon myself to retrieve Peter’s personal belongings first thing this morning. I mean, it was not as if he was ever likely to ever return here. Even before I found these...”

  “Sweet Jesus. In his school locker?”

  Mrs. Barton shook her head in disbelief. “When I took the call about his arrest last night I naturally assumed this was some sort of extra-curricular activity Peter had somehow become embroiled in. I mean, he was arrested in Battersea, as I understand it. You expect those sorts of goings on that way. But then to find this...”

  “And the school has never had anything like this happen before?”

  Mrs. Barton looked horrified at the suggestion. “My goodness, no. Our reputation is second to none.”

  “How about off the record? Mrs. Barton? We need to know.”

  The Head considered briefly, then, “We had some problems with cannabis last year. Some boys caught smoking the horrid stuff in the chemistry lab. They thought the smell of chemicals would hide their misdeeds.” She shook her head as if completely mystified by such stupidity. “They were expelled immediately, of course. But this... No, no, no. I mean, what is it? Heroin? Cocaine? Ecstasy?”

  “Cocaine, Mrs. Barton. Ecstasy is a tab. A completely different type of… Sorry. Yes, it’s cocaine. Certainly not something you need this school to be associated with.” Red paused. “So if there’s anything else you’d like to share with us…”

  Ms. Barton’s demeanour darkened. “There’s worse.”

  Red and Anna exchanged glances. “Worse?”

  They watched Mrs. Barton return to the cabinet and withdraw two bags. She pla
ced the first by its strap over the back of her chair. “This is just Peter’s personal and academic items. Nothing to worry about that I can see, but there is a mobile phone there that may be of interest to you. But this...”

  Mrs. Barton brought the plastic carrier bag to the table and slowly unravelled it. “This was in his locker too.”

  Picking up a pencil she put a trembling hand into the bag and retrieved a pistol, the pencil inserted into the barrel. “I’m afraid my prints are on it. I picked it up, not realizing what it was. Then I immediately transferred it to this bag.” The Head looked at her guests anxiously. “Do you think it’s real?”

  “I suggest you set it down gently, Mrs. Barton. It may still be loaded.”

  The Head froze. “My God! I never gave it a thought!” Gingerly Mrs. Barton eased it onto the desk. She retrieved her pencil, staring at it briefly before throwing it into the bin, brushing her hands together to remove any evidence of contact.

  Red carefully wrapped the bag around the gun. “Any other little surprises for us?”

  “That’s everything, I assure you.”

  “Who else knows about this little haul?”

  “Obviously the Governors know about the arrest, and probably many more have heard by now, but to the best of my knowledge this is known only to we three. And Peter Blake, of course.”

  Red nodded. “Let’s keep it that way.”

  Chapter 39.

  Red carefully emptied the handgun from the plastic bag onto her DCI’s desk. His salt and pepper eyebrows shot skyward as he took in the find.

  “In Peter Blake’s locker? You’re quite certain of this?”

  “Unless the Head of one of London’s most prestigious schools is telling us porkies, Guv.” Red flung the key down on the desk. “Just in case Mrs. Barton decided to do some spring cleaning. I’ve told her to expect forensics, and now she’s wetting herself thinking a CSI-style crew will turn up disrupting classes.”

  “I’ll call her and reassure her. I’m sure we can be discreet.”