“That will be all.”
Red stood, her shoulders slumped. She felt Blake’s eyes on her as she turned to leave.
“Cassandra?”
“Sir?”
“Yes, I do know DI Silver. When, and only when, this case is solved, come and talk to me again.”
Chapter 87.
The blue lights in her mirror caught Red completely by surprise.
Red kept herself upright, steering with one hand, the other dragging the rucksack off the passenger seat and into the footwell. She glanced down. No way of pushing it under the seat without leaning across. She knew the two officers behind her were now watching closely for any suspicious movements.
She flicked the indicator and pulled over at an appropriate stopping point on Plough Way. Decided to leave the bag where it was. Play it by ear. She patted her jeans pocket, reassured by the firm touch of her ID. Keep that in reserve, she thought.
One officer approached the driver’s side door. The other went to the front of the vehicle, checking the licence plates matched front and rear. The first officer motioned for Red to roll down the window. She hit the button.
“Good evening, madam. Just a routine stop.”
Like hell it is. “No problem, I hope?”
“Is this your vehicle, madam?”
“I’m sure you’ve already established it’s a courtesy vehicle belonging to the Ball Street Garage.” Red stopped herself. Keep the smart remarks in check. This could finish your career. She fostered a sheepish smile. “It does say Ball Street Garage on the doors. Mine’s in for a service.”
“May I see your driving licence, ma’am?”
“You may, but not tonight. It’s at home. Sorry.”
The second officer came round to the other side of the vehicle, shining his torch into the back seat.
“Have you lost something?” Red asked.
“Your name, madam?”
“Cass Rose.”
“Where are you heading. Ms. Rose?”
“Home. Onslow Square.”
“And what brings you to the docklands? A bit out of character for a West End girl?”
“I’m not sure that’s any of your business, officer.” Red saw the second officer shining his light on the front passenger seat. She followed it down to the rucksack. Took a deep breath.
“We’ve been watching you for a while,” the first officer said. “The last thirty minutes in fact.”
Red said nothing, Her mind raced. Her pulse raced even faster.
“We’ve watched you pull over twice, close to the Thames. Take a bag from your vehicle and walk along the embankment. Look around you, then return to the car.”
“When did that become a crime?”
“No crime,” the officer said calmly. “But it fits the bill for suspicious behaviour. Especially in the current climate.”
“I hardly think the Surrey docks are a prime target for terrorists.”
“Even so, madam. Do you have any ID at all on you?”
Red decided the time was right. “I can present my driving licence at Battersea Police Station in the morning. Or we can go there now. I’m sure someone will be able to vouch for me.”
“You know someone that works there?”
“You could say that.” She could almost hear the cogs whirring in the officer’s head. He was probably guessing she was civilian staff. Her own car would have flagged up immediately as an unmarked police vehicle. With the Garage courtesy vehicle she could be anybody.
“And you’ve no ID of any description on you?”
“Hold on. Perhaps I have.” Red produced her Metropolitan Police ID from her jeans pocket. Handed it to him. Studied his face as he shone his torch over it.
He looked again. Stood to attention. “Ma’am.”
“At ease, officer.” Red took the ID back and held it up against the passenger window. The second officer shone his torch briefly, then hurriedly stepped back.
“Sorry, Ma’am. We thought…”
Red gave a reassuring smile. “And you were quite right to pull me over. For all you know I could have been carrying a bomb. Some good observational work, both of you. I had no idea I was being watched.”
“Thank you, Ma’am.”
Red decided to push her luck. “You obviously know this part of London well?”
“Born and bred, Ma’am.”
Red nodded conspiratorially. “You’re probably still wondering just why I was ambling about on Deptford Wharf in the dark?”
“Yes, Ma’am. It did seem rather strange.”
“Research,” Red said. “I’m writing a novel.”
“A novel?”
“A crime novel. You know, Inspector Morse type of thing, but without all that Oxford Uni’ stuff.. I mean, out in the sticks like that they’re probably lucky if they get one murder a year in real life.”
“Same with all the cop shows on TV, Ma’am. Completely unrealistic.”
The second officer came round to join in. “And what about that Midsomer Murders? It’s a wonder there’s anyone left in that village to be killed.”
“Exactly,” Red said, getting into the role-play. “Bring back Z-Cars. So my book is going to be accurate in every detail. Which is why I’m here. One of my characters wants to dump a firearm in the Thames. But where can he do it without being seen? I want the reader to feel like they’re there, so I need to be there myself. But everywhere I’ve looked is either too well lit, too busy, or covered by CCTV.”
The second officer spoke up. “You know the Ahoy Centre? Glaisher Street?”
Red shook her head. “Like he said, I’m a West End girl.”
“You must know where the Creek is?”
Red shook her head. “Heard of it. Never been there.”
“There’s a fair length of the embankment there that is pretty desolate. Ideal for your man. If you want you can follow us down, We’ll take you right to it.”
Red made a show of looking at the dashboard clock. “That‘s very kind, but it’s getting late. I’ve got sat-nav in my own car. I’ll try again another night. Glaisher Street, you say? Thanks fellas.”
“Our pleasure, Ma’am.”
Red watched the officers return to their vehicle, then hit the ignition and pulled slowly away. A wiggle of fingers in the mirror as she left. As she turned a corner out of sight she leant across, jamming the bag under the seat.
Chapter 88.
Red tugged the handbrake, switched the engine off and stared at the front door.
What the hell was I thinking? I’m a Senior Officer in the Met and I’m wandering around the docks in the middle of the night, looking for somewhere to dump an illegal firearm! Red shook her head, astounded at her own stupidity.
The indicators blinked twice in the darkness as she made her way up the gravel drive. Red’s key was half-way to the lock, when the door swung open.
A blurry-eyed Pippa leant her head against the doorframe. “Hey, stranger. I thought I heard you.”
“What are you still doing up?” Red whispered.
“I must have fallen asleep on the sofa.” Pippa yawned. “Any reason you’re dressed like the paperboy?”
Red pulled the cap off her head. “We were on a stakeout.”
“Have you eaten?”
“Not hungry, thanks.” Red pulled off her trainers. “I’ve still got a bit to do, Hun’. Paperwork I don’t want to leave ’til morning. I just need a coffee. Why don’t you go on up?”
“I think I will.” Pippa kissed Red on the cheek. “Want me to take your bag up?”
Red dug her fingers into the strap slung over her shoulder. “No, it’s fine. I’ve got some notes in here to write up.”
Pippa shrugged. “Night then.”
“Night, Counsellor.” Red pecked a kiss on Pippa’s lips, not wanting to get too close in her sweaty state. She listened for the click of the bedroom door upstairs, then pulled her iPad from the bag. Powered it up. She glanced around, her eyes desperately searching for anothe
r hiding place for the gun. No way could she get it back in the ottoman tonight. No way she was going down the docks again for a while. That was too close for comfort.
Maybe I’m meant to have it. Bill must have known Elizabeth would give me that box if anything happened to him.
She grabbed a beer from the fridge. Checked her emails quickly. Painfully aware of the gun in the rucksack at her side. Painfully aware she had to decide. One way or the other.
She drained the last of her beer. Tapped the Reminders icon on the screen. Read down the list, ticking off those she had completed. Three were left.
Sort bowling night
Make hair appointment
Buy e-reader
Red cast her eye to the ceiling. If you’re up there, Bill, this is for you.
She typed: Talk to TM about lessons — Urgent!
Chapter 89.
“Jez, must you eat Burrito’s at ten in the morning?” Anna planted her elbows on the table, burying her head in her hands in mock disgust.
“It’s the law,” Harris said. “Hangover cure.”
“Few too many sherberts plucking up the courage?”
“For what?”
“You were supposed to pop the question, weren’t you?”
“Was I?” Harris concentrated on his food.
“You didn’t do it, did you.”
“It wasn’t the right moment.”
“Wimp.”
“There’s more to it than that.” Harris wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “It’s the brother.”
“Nikki has a brother?”
“A right retard. I mean, seriously. Several sandwiches short of a picnic.”
“He doesn’t like you and Nikki being together?”
“Nothing like that. But he lives with her.”
“With her?”
“Same flat. She’s all he has. Her and some drunken uncle.”
“No parents?”
“She doesn’t talk about it, but they were both taken into care. They’ve not seen their parents since.”
“How old is this brother?”
“Late teens, I s’pose.”
“He’ll soon find a place of his own. What’s the problem?”
“That’s the thing, Anna. He won’t. He can’t.”
“Can’t?”
“The twat can barely dress himself. And every time I turn around, he’s there.” Harris stared past Anna. “I love Nikki. And he’s her brother, so I know I should be more sympathetic. But I’m shitting myself that she’ll want him to come and live with us, permanently.”
Anna nodded. “I wouldn’t want my boyfriend’s relatives living with me, either.”
“There’s something not right about him. He gives me the willies.” Harris shuddered. He looked across at Anna. “Am I just being a complete bastard? I mean, is it wrong that I want it to be just me and her?”
Anna finished her coffee. “So what are you going to do?”
Harris shrugged. He turned his attention back to his Burrito. “Dunno, but I wouldn’t rush out to buy a hat just yet.”
Chapter 90.
Red found a space and slipped the residential parking pass onto the dash. Steve’s Honda was parked on the drive, half way up, perfectly positioned to ensure a second vehicle couldn’t get in. Men.
Child-like giggles floated like soap bubbles drifting on an early summer breeze. Red followed the sound of laughter down the side of the house to the back garden. A teddy bears’ picnic in full swing beyond the wrought iron gate.
“Miss Nishat and Princess Rubes! Another party?”
“Cassie!” Ruby and Nishat raced to the gate.
“It’s not a real party,” Ruby explained. “Only for teddy bears.”
“And dolls,” said Nishat.
“Of course,” Red laughed. “Mustn’t leave the dolls out.” She keyed the four digit code into the alarm panel and joined the girls. “Hey, what’s that they’re wearing?”
“Saris,” Ruby said. “Nishat’s mummy made them. And guess what, Cassie?”
“What’s that, Rubes?”
“It’s Nishat’s birthday soon and we’re all going to wear saris. Real ones!”
“You are soooo lucky!”
“Do you want a cup of tea, Cassie?” Nishat offered. “We’ve made special green tea. With grass.”
“That sounds delicious.” Red cast an eye over what looked like the aftermath of the Battle of Waterloo for furry animals. “Another time, Miss Nishat, okay?” Red ruffled Nishat’s coal-black hair. “I’ve got to talk to Ruby’s child-minder before he goes home.” To Ruby, “Where’s Steve, sweetheart?”
Ruby pointed towards the house.“Helping Ella with her homework. Steve said we could play out here on our own as long.”
“You two carry on. I’ll be back in a little while to help you tidy up. I don’t think Mummy will be too impressed with what you’ve done to her lawn.”
Red climbed the moss-covered steps up to the French windows that spanned halfway across the rear of the house. She slid one door open, silent on perfect runners, and stepped into the living room. There was a pile of discarded school books on the coffee table. Tell-tale signs of depressed cushions, a teacup and a coke glass confirmed the recent occupation. Muted voices could be heard in the open-plan kitchen-diner beyond the hallway.
Red sauntered through, about to shout a cheery welcome, when Ella’s words stopped her in her tracks.
“He’s my first real boyfriend.”
Boyfriend? Red took a step back, edging behind the doorway.
Steve’s voice was measured. Calm. Perhaps a tiny bit uncomfortable. “And do your Mum and Dad know about Calvin?”
Ella must have shaken her head.
“Do you plan on telling them?”
“No way. They’d go ballistic. You can’t talk to them about things like that. Mum got all het up just because Jack was talking to Darren’s sister. As for Dad, he still thinks I’m into dolls and ponies.”
“What about Cass? She seems pretty cool.”
Red nodded her head in silent agreement, pressing herself flat to the wall. You know you can talk to me any time, Els.
“Cass? No way. I can’t talk to her about stuff like that.”
Red deflated like a bouncy castle at the end of a party. She felt like an intruder in her own home. She backed away down the hall, through the living room and into the garden.
“Okay, girls, time to clear up. Mummy will be home soon.”
Chapter 91.
“Here, you dry.” Red threw a tea-towel at Ella.
“Not fair. I always have to dry.”
“We don’t want you plunging those delicate hands in mucky dishwater, Els. Even if it is mild green Fairy liquid.”
“I do not understand why you cannot use the dishwasher like normal people, instead of making all that mess.” Pippa held up her hands to examine them. “It would ruin my nails.”
“The amount of housework you do, Counsellor, you probably have the most beautifully manicured hands in the country.”
Pippa glared. “I do far more than my fair share of domestic chores, Cassandra. That my hands are so beautiful is thanks to Richard’s credit card. He never did cancel the account at the manicurist’s. You should try it sometime.”
“Yeah, like I’ve got time to sit in some scented salon being pampered like a poodle. Some people have to work for a living.”
“If you wish, Cassandra, I will buy you a broom and a washboard. Then you can teach Ella how to sweep floors without a vacuum cleaner, and how to wash clothes without a washing machine.”
“Didn’t you say you were going for a bath, Counsellor?”
“I’m going. I’m going. I know when I’m not wanted.”
“Good job you and me aren’t too posh to wash-up, right, Els?” Red whispered as Pippa closed the door.
Ella gave a warm, sideways smile.
Now’s as good a time as any, Red thought. She said, “We make a good team, me and you, don’t w
e?”
Ella shrugged. “I guess.”
“Look, I don’t want you to think I was spying on you or anything, but I came home early yesterday and I happened to hear what you said to Steve. You know, about boyfriends.”
Ella stopped wiping the plate, mid-circle. She looked up, apprehensive.
“I’m not mad or anything.” Red said quickly.
“Have you told Mum?”
“Of course not! What do you take me for?”
“Calvin’s really nice,” Ella said. “You’d like him.”
“I’m sure Mum would too, if we ever got the chance to meet him.” Red paused, staring into the soapy bubbles. “Look, Els, I understand that maybe you didn’t want your mum and dad to know straight away. Hell, I’m scared of your mum sometimes, but...” She washed a glass and placed it carefully on the drainer. “Well, I thought you and I had a better relationship than that. I mean, I always treat you like an adult, don’t I?”
“Sort of.”
“So it kinda hurt when I heard you telling Steve that you couldn’t talk to me. Come to that, it hurt that you felt you knew Steve better than me. I mean, you’ve only known him a week or so.”
Ella shrugged. She picked up the glass, drying it carefully, buffing it to a shine. “Steve is really easy to talk to. It’s like…” Ella stared out through the window, as if hoping she might find inspiration there to finish the sentence.
“You can always tell me stuff, Els,” Red continued. “Even secret stuff. I’m a cop remember. You know first-hand how I won’t talk about things if I shouldn’t. “
Ella looked unconvinced.
“I know I’m your mum’s partner,” Red said, “but first and foremost, I’m your friend.”
“Yeah, but your Mum’s friend too. I know you can’t keep secrets from her.”
Red laughed. “Are you kidding? You know the other night when I said I was working late and I phoned to tell your mum that she’d have to get your tea?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I was actually in The Dog & Duck with the lads, playing darts.”
“For real?”
Saffina Desforges' ROSE RED Crime Thriller Boxed Set Page 49
