Saffina Desforges' ROSE RED Crime Thriller Boxed Set

by Saffina Desforges

  The Huntsman laughed. “Is that so? Give me some credit. If you had an armed response unit they would have come in first. Looks very much to me like I’m the only one with the firearm, Billy boy. As fat man here will confirm.” He thrust the gun barrel hard into Taylor’s fleshy jowl.

  Taylor desperately nodded agreement.

  “No-one need get hurt if you do as I say,” the Huntsman told them. He edged round the room towards the desk, sliding the leather pouch into his pocket, forcing Taylor towards the open window.

  “Okay, you’ve got the pomme-rouge. Now let my officer go,” Andrews demanded.

  “I don’t think you’re in any position to give orders just now, William.” The Huntsman chuckled. “One of these bullets has your name on it, my friend. But don’t excite yourself. You’re not on the list today. Unlike the Michelin Man here, if you try anything silly.”

  Terri Miller caught the Huntsman’s attention. “Hmmm. Looks like I made a bad choice. Should have had gone for blondie there.” He jerked Taylor’s head back. To Terri, “Fancy swapping places with lard-ass here, gorgeous?”

  Terri took a step forward. “Any time.”

  “Terri, stay right where you are,” Andrews put his arm out to stop her. “No-one’s doing any swapping.”

  “Funny, I don’t recall putting you in charge, Billy Boy?” The Huntsman looked Terri up and down. “Say, you not only look like a cheer-leader, but you sound like one too.”

  Terri smiled sweetly. “Dallas Cowboys, if you must know.”

  The Huntsman’s face broke into a smile. “Red Sox fan myself. Spent a few months in Washington.”

  “Not long enough. That’s the Red Skins. The Red Sox play baseball. Boston.”

  The Huntsman spat his response. “Red Sox? Red Skins? American crap. But speaking of all things red, where’s the one and only Detective Inspector Rose?”

  “Someone call my name?” Red pushed through the door in timely fashion. “Well, Jez is okay, guys. Just concussed. Anna’s taking him to…” She took in the situation at a glance, looking to Andrews. “Guv?”

  The Huntsman edged himself onto the window sill, pulling Taylor with him. “Everybody stay where they are and Mr. Blobby here won’t get hurt. That includes you, Red.”

  Red stared past Taylor’s fear-ridden features, a hint of recognition in her eyes. She tried to peer past Taylor’s trembling head to be sure.

  As the Huntsman swung his legs over the window sill onto the outer ledge the gun muzzle drooped. Taylor seized his chance, grabbing the Huntsman’s arm, twisting it back. “Guv! Now! I’ve got – ”

  The phut of the Glock’s silencer was lost to Taylor’s scream, the blood blossoming out across his shoulder like a drop of paint in water. As Andrews and Terri raced towards the window the Huntsman pushed himself forward, feet first towards the car roof below. Without his support Taylor lurched backwards after him, headfirst.

  “Barry!” Terri leapt across the desk, hands desperately gripping Taylor’s feet, her body slamming into the window sill. “Help me! I can’t hold him!”

  Andrews grabbed one of Taylor’s legs. “It’s okay, Barry. We’ve got you.” The DCI watched helplessly as the Huntsman rolled off the car bonnet, landing cat-like on his feet, disappearing into the poorly lit streets without a backward glance.

  Between them Terri and Andrews eased Taylor back into the room.

  “Never thought I’d be glad to see your face again, Barry.” Red grinned, slapping cuffs on Southgate. “Terri, that was quick thinking. And fast moving. I thought he was a goner.” Her eyed moved down to the blood, her smile vanishing. “Jesus, Barry! You’re hurt. Somebody call an ambulance.”

  “Just a flesh wound, Guv,” Taylor said unconvincingly, wincing as he moved forward.

  Terri ripped his jacket open. “Too high for any vital organs, but there could be a severed artery.” She reached for her phone. “Miller. Ambulance to the Prince’s Club. Urgent.” She glanced around the room past Southgate, at the goon slumped in the corner. “One wounded. One dead.” To Red, “Where’d the other guy go?”

  Red shrugged. “They both tried a runner while you were playing fast and loose with Barry. Figured Southgate was the more important of the two. Right, Bernie?”

  Southgate scowled. “You’ve got nothing on me, copper.”

  “Is that a fact, Bernie?” Andrews spun Southgate round, gesturing to the dead body. “How does murder grab you?”

  Southgate sneered. “I just don’t believe you lot. You had the Huntsman bang to rights at a murder scene, with the murder weapon in his hand and you let him walk away. What a bunch of amateurs.”

  “The Huntsman?” Red swung Southgate round. “That was the Huntsman?”

  Southgate smiled sweetly. “So he said. Of course, he could have been pulling my plonker, but he looked pretty convincing to me.”

  “Jesus Christ, Barry.” Andrews took Taylor by the arm. “Sit here until the ambulance arrives, and forget trying to impress DC Miller. That looks like it could be serious.”

  “I’ll look after him, Sir,” Terri eased Taylor onto a seat, fussing like a mother hen.

  Taylor put on a brave face as Terri unbuttoned his shirt. “You know, I could get to like this. Being stripped off by a beautiful blonde.”

  Terri sighed. “Don’t you ever give up?”

  Andrews glared daggers at Southgate. “So what happened, Bernie. Your Huntsman friend double-cross you?”

  “He ain’t nothing to do with me, Andrews. I’ve never laid eyes on him before tonight.”

  “So who in hell is he working for?”

  “How the hell should I know? You’re the one who just let him walk.”

  “Don’t push your luck, Bernie. If you know anything about the Huntsman, now’s the time to start talking. Off the record.”

  “All I know is he’s got my bloody pomme-rouge.”

  Andrews’ features darkened. “Tell me about it.” He stared at the empty case. “And I had it, literally, in my hand. I just don’t believe it.…” His voice trailed as he saw Red grinning. “Cass? Am I missing something?”

  “Show the guv, Barry.”

  Taylor beamed at Andrews, raising his arm with difficulty. “Will this do, Sir? You’d think our Huntsman friend would know a thing or two about pickpockets.”

  Andrews’ face burst into a smile as he took repossession of the leather pouch, easing the pomme-rouge once more into his palm.

  Chapter 74.

  Red held her glass aloft. “To Barry Taylor.”

  Bill Andrews allowed a triumphant smile to dissolve across his face. “To Barry Taylor.” The DCI touched Red’s glass with his own. “Never thought I’d say it, Cass, but I’ll be making a commendation to the Chief Super. Two, in fact. Taylor saved the day. And the apple.” He patted the jacket pocket that held the leather pouch. “And Terri saved Taylor.”

  “You really should have let Terri take that back to the station, Guv.”

  Andrews shook his head vehemently. “Oh no. Not this time. This baby stays with me until it’s logged and back in safe hands.” He sank back onto the plush, quickly scanning the other occupants of the public house as if they might be listening in. “I won’t rest until this is under guard at the V&A.”

  “You won’t rest even then, Guv.”

  “Now that’s where you’re wrong, young Cass, that’s where you’re wrong.”

  “Guv?”

  “This was my last collar. My last big case. I’ve got the apple back, and Southgate is in custody. We can’t nail him for the murder, but if his prints are on this...” He patted the pocket holding the jewel. “It’s time to hang up my boots, Cass. Let the next generation have a go.”

  Red searched Andrews’ rugged features. “You’re serious?”

  “Sure am, kiddo. Why wait until Christmas? I just got the pomme-rouge back for the second time. Might as well finish on a high. I could be out of here in three months.”

  Red’s features darkened, sudden fear of abando
nment creeping up on her at an alarming rate. She straightened in her chair, sniffing. “You can’t retire, Guv. This Huntsman maniac is still out there. And he’s directly threatened you.”

  Bill shrugged. “I figured I’d leave that one to the new DCI.”

  “Oh no you don’t.” Red fingered the base of her wine glass, avoiding his gaze. “You ain’t walking out and leaving me to deal with that bastard.”

  “You can handle him fine.”

  “Guv, I need you.”

  Andrews was silent for a moment, gathering the courage to open up to her. Taking a huge swallow of beer he wiped a hand across his mouth and sat forward in his seat. With shaking hands, he reached across and took both of Red’s in his own. Red’s eyes moved upward to meet his.

  “Just let me speak, okay,” Andrews said. “No interruptions.”

  “I…”

  “None,” he said, squeezing her hands.

  Red nodded.

  “I have my own children. My own grandchildren, as you know. And I love them dearly.”

  “Guv, I…”

  “Cass, please.” His eyes were soft on hers, imploring. “I love them all dearly, and I love my wife. I haven’t stopped loving her since the day I met her thirty seven years ago. I’m one hell of a lucky guy to have them all in my life, and one hell of a lucky guy to have had such a great career with the Met.”

  He paused, inhaling deeply, dropping his eyes to the tarnished table. “And I’m lucky to have met you, Cass. To have you. To have trained and mentored you; to have you allow me into your life, to get to know you. I know you never really knew your own father. Not properly. And I hope that you didn’t ever feel that I was trying to step into his shoes, but…” He raised glistening eyes to meet hers. “But I’ve loved you like my own daughter, since your very first week on the force Cass, and I’m so very, very proud of you.”

  Red clenched her stomach muscles, holding her breath in a desperate attempt to not release a sob. She remained perfectly still, her hands calm under his, biting her lip, her eyes fixed firmly on his. Her words caught in her throat, coming out as a barely audible breath. “Nobody’s ever said that to me before.”

  Andrews slowly exhaled, smiling. He squeezed her hands once more. “I’ve never meant it more, Cass.” He reached into his pocket, producing his badge and placing it on the table. “Cassandra Red Rose, would you do me the honour of being my successor as DCI?”

  Red pulled her hands away, palming a stray tear from her cheek. She pushed her chair back. She said playfully, “Another drink, you daft old fool?”

  Andrews nodded. “Just as soon as you say yes. Well, Cass?”

  “Same again, barman.” Red retook her seat, picking up Andrews’ badge. She looked into his eyes, undiluted affection spreading across her face.

  “Yes, Guv.”

  Chapter 75.

  Andrews folded his arms across his chest, staring intently at Red. “How do you suppose the Huntsman came to know our names? Your name?”

  Red’s smile fell from her face. “Dunno, Guv.”

  A pause, then Andrews said quietly, “I think you do, Cass. Call it a hunch, but when you laid eyes on him earlier, I swear you recognized him.”

  Red nodded. “There was something... I can’t explain it.”

  “Maybe someone you put away years ago?”

  “Probably.”

  She glanced at her watch. “We ought to be going.” A young barmaid noisily clattered their empty glasses together. “See, even the staff think we’ve had enough. And if I roll up drunk after midnight again, Pippa’s gonna throw me out.”

  They stood together, gathering coats and keys, checking for phones. Andrews started for the door then stopped, spinning round on his heels. Without a word, he held his arms out, pulling Red towards him. “Don’t say a word.”

  Andrews pulled her into an embrace. Burying her head in his overcoat, Red closed her eyes momentarily, inhaling his subtle cologne. She heard him whisper, “Mirror.”

  Pulling her head up Red opened her eyes. In the gilt-edged mirror, hanging resplendent against the duck-egg blue walls, she caught sight of the familiar figure. The Huntsman flashed a smile as he disappeared through a door.

  Chapter 76.

  “Careful, Cass!” Andrews shouted warning echoed down Earl’s Court Road after Red as she frantically tried to keep up with the Huntsman, firmly locked in her sights.

  “Stop! Police!” The badge held in the air was a vain hope startled passers-by might try slow her target down, but as she spotted the gun in the Huntsman’s hand, waving manically, she realised why everyone was clearing a path. A glance behind her confirmed her DCI struggling to keep up, phone to his ear.

  The white and blue of Scarsdale Villas flashed past like tickertape at a Chelsea match. Red could hear her own breathing in her ears as she tried to keep up with him. Too much wind. She stopped for breath, leaning against a lamp post, puffing and panting, cursing herself. Ahead of her the Huntsman stopped at the corner and turned to face them. Waiting.

  She felt thankful to hear her DCI’s strained tones as he fell in behind her. She saw the Huntsman raise his weapon. “Guv! She leapt on Andrews, throwing him to the ground as the lamplight above exploded. “Jesus!”

  Amid screams as civilians ran for cover Andrews struggled to free his hand. “Back-up requested. CO19. Suspect is armed and dangerous. Repeat, suspect is armed and dangerous. Heading South on Earl’s Court Road towards Pembroke Square.” To Red, “He missed us deliberately. He wants us to follow him.”

  “Do we wait for CO19?”

  “It could be too late by then.” Andrews edged himself upright. Red followed suit.

  The Huntsman waved his weapon at them, then disappeared round the corner. Red and Andrews arrived in time to see the Huntsman barge through a crowd of smokers outside the Hansom Cab, scattering them like sheep. The huge mural of a stagecoach and showgirl watched proceedings from above.

  “Police! Everyone get down and stay down!” Andrews led the way, deliberately blocking Red’s attempts to get past. As The Huntsman slowed at the junction of Pembroke and Earl’s Court Road they saw his destination. “Suspect entering the main entrance to St Phillip’s. Repeat, St. Phillip’s. We’re going in.”

  Red’s lungs burned in protest, her muscles screaming out as the chase caught up with her. “Wait for me, Guv.” She grabbed Andrews’ arm.

  Andrews shot her a worried glance. “Are you okay?”

  “It’s just stitch, Guv.”

  They stopped across the road from the entrance, easy targets if the Huntsman chose to shoot. Andrews put his body in front of Red’s. “Police. Put down your weapon. There’s an armed unit on the way.”

  “It will all be over by then, Andrews. For one of you.” With a quick glance up at the huge black and white clock, like he was waiting for a train, the Huntsman pushed open the huge, weather-beaten doors of St. Phillip’s.

  Red and Andrews deftly navigated the three lanes of traffic to the church entrance, pulling the door open. The Huntsman’s footsteps echoed loudly as he casually jogged between the empty rows of seats, seemingly familiar with his surroundings, assured of his destination. Andrews barred the entrance with his arm. They watched as the Huntsman disappeared from view at the back of the church.

  “He definitely wants us to follow him,” Red said quietly.

  Andrews nodded. “It looks that way.” He lifted his phone. “Andrews. Revoke previous request. Stand down. Repeat, revoke previous request. Stand down. Suspect is unarmed. We have the situation under control.”

  “Guv?” Red studied her DCI’s set features, trying to read him by the dim light. “He’s still armed! What the hell are you doing?”

  “My job, Cass. He could have shot at us back there. He didn’t. I need to talk to him. But you’re staying here.”

  “No way.”

  “Take this.” Andrews slipped the leather pouch from his inside pocket into Red’s hands. “He’s obviously not sure if we have it or n
ot. I’ll tell him its back at the station. Maybe I can reason with him.”

  “And maybe you’ll end up dead.”

  “He took the street light out earlier, not us.”

  “What about the guy killed at the Prince’s Club?”

  “We don’t know for sure that was him. Supposing it was Southgate? This one could be a key witness.”

  “Guv, he shot Barry.”

  “Not deliberately. If he had, Taylor wouldn’t be with us. This one knows how to handle a firearm. He wants something. That’s why you need to stay here and look after the apple.”

  “Sod the apple. I’m coming with you.”

  “You’re staying put. That’s an order, Inspector.”

  Chapter 77.

  Red’s patience lasted just a few minutes. She scanned the church for a suitable place to hide the jewel. A hymn book cabinet by the far pew provided the perfect venue. Glancing first left, then right, Red saw the stairway Andrews had disappeared down, hesitantly following him into the darkness.

  Sodium lights plinked on and off as Red descended, the air growing stale, making her already laboured breathing all the more difficult. She grasped at rusting handrails to steady herself as she twisted and turned, dropping deeper and deeper into the bowels of the building.

  Suddenly the steps came to a halt. A door gave a tired groan as it was wrenched open. Soft yellow light sliced a rectangle in the darkness.

  Quietly, “Guv?”

  The unmistakable click of a safety catch in the darkness made her freeze. “Stay right where you are, Rose Red.” The voice strangely familiar. The Glock loomed out of the darkness. Slowly Red put up her hands.

  Chapter 78.

  The more she struggled, the tighter the gag cut into her mouth. Red tried again to scream; all she managed was a muffled whimper.

  Tears blurred her vision. She winced as they stung the gash on her cheek, pain lighting up her brain like a faulty firework. Red strained against the plastic ties binding her wrists, oblivious to the chaffing against her raw skin; to the fresh trickle of blood running down her sleeve. She shuffled herself awkwardly on the cold stone floor, straining to position herself between the dusty marble statues to see what was happening.