Saffina Desforges' ROSE RED Crime Thriller Boxed Set

by Saffina Desforges

  “She won’t.”

  “Why so certain.”

  “Take a look up ahead.”

  Red stared ahead to the Tower Bridge turning. “What the…”

  “I’ve got a fire tender and two ambulances across the road, and we’ve tilted a old Luton van onto its side on an air cushion to make it look realistic. That way we can direct all traffic onto the Bridge, a few at a time, without arousing suspicion. The uniforms will stop Nikki’s car to let the ambulance reverse out. That will give the cars in front time to clear the bridge. Then she drives on and we close the road behind her. By the time she realises no-one is following her it will be too late. Both ends sealed, her in the middle. The only civilians at risk will be herself and the brother. Poor bastard.”

  “Bloody brilliant, Jim. Bloody brilliant. How long before CO19 get there?”

  “That’s the fly in the ointment, Guv. Major congestion . They can’t get through. We’re looking at twenty to thirty minutes. But the uniforms are sealing the road south side and will drop back as soon as the civilian vehicles are clear. Nikki won’t be going anywhere.”

  “I’m at Tower now, Jim. I’m going to park up and stand by for her.”

  “No heroics, Guv. If she is armed then it’s out of our hands anyway. CO19 take charge.”

  “Only once the ARV is in position.” Red reached across and retrieved the gun and ammunition from the seat. “Don’t worry about me, Jim. I can handle myself.”

  Red popped in the bullets like Terri had shown her. Flipped the safety catch on and tucked the weapon into her belt on her left side. She remembered Terri’s advice. Easier to reach the left side with your right hand moving across and down beneath the jacket than your right side, having to move your arm back and move the jacket out of the way first.

  She flashed her ID at the uniform officers and parked up next to the fire tender.

  “Better keep the ambulances here afterwards,” she said. “We might need them.”

  She thought, I might need them,

  Chapter 142.

  The first drops of rain hit as Red liaised with the uniformed officer at the entrance to the bridge. He introduced himself as Inspector Young. Curt and formal. Clearly resentful of a senior officer arriving on his scene. Red had no time for small talk.

  “CO19?” she asked.

  “Delayed.” Young confirmed what Mackenzie had told her. “But no rush. The suspect won’t be going anywhere, We’re directing all traffic onto the bridge, but she won’t be getting off the other end.”

  “How close is she?”

  Young spoke quickly into his phone. “Three or four minutes away.”

  “Everything in order here?”

  Young smirked. “Yes, Ma’am. We’ve also got the Gabriel Franks is in position below.”

  “Gabriel Franks?”

  Young smirked again. Red might be his superior officer, but CID lived a sheltered life.

  “MPU, Ma’am. Straight from Wapping.”

  MPU. Marine Police Unit. Red’s mind raced. Formerly Thames Division. The Met’s miniature navy. Not something she’s had any previous dealings with.

  “What rank is this Franks?”

  Young exchanged a smug glance with a colleague. A short cough to clear his throat. Savouring the moment. “The Gabriel Franks is a boat, Ma’am. A Targa 31.”

  “Gabriel Franks was the first marine officer killed on duty,” the colleague added, rubbing salt in Red’s wound.

  Red cursed her ignorance. She had to re-establish her authority. Fast. “Who’s in charge at the other end of the bridge?”

  “I am, Ma’am,” Young said. “Until CO19 take over.”

  Red nodded her understanding. “I’m not here to run your show, Inspector. But the suspect assaulted one of my officers, quite apart from being wanted for three murders on my manor. I’ll try not to tread on your toes.”

  “Suspect in sight,” someone shouted.

  “She knows me,” Red said. “I’ll get out of your way while you get her onto the bridge.”

  She backed off to a position in between the fire tender and one of the ambulances, watching the traffic being redirected across the bridge in small batches. She could see Nikki’s car approaching. Argued with herself for a second about walking into the road and stopping them. Thought better of it.

  She eased herself into the back of the ambulance and pulled the door to. Just enough gap to watch Nikki pull up at the road block as an officer waved a cluster of vehicles through.

  She could see Nikki talking to the officer. Calm and collected. No signs of stress. Obviously taken in by the staged accident. Kevin looked calm too.

  The traffic cop watched the previous batch of vehicles reach the far end of the bridge, then stepped back and waved Nikki through. “Safe journey, Ma’am.”

  Immediately Nikki’s car crossed onto the bridge the fire tender backed out and blocked the road. A team began righting the tilted Luton van, back onto four wheels.

  Red stepped out on the bridge side of the fire tender, looking down the brightly lit blacktop of the bridge. Nikki’s vehicle had stopped by the far tower. About 500 feet, Red estimated. 150 metres, as she would have to write in her report. Just the right age to be comfortable with both imperial and metric measures. Young came up behind her.

  Red asked, “Anyone else on the bridge?”

  “Negative. We evacuated staff and tourists thirty minutes ago. The previous vehicles have all cleared the south exit and the road is now fully closed. The only people on the bridge at this time are the suspect and hostage.”

  The hostage. Red caught her breath. Kevin a hostage? She hadn’t thought of it like that. But why else would Nikki drag him along? Red stared down the bridge towards the vehicle. Too far for any clarity, but she could see Nikki and Kevin get out, looking both ways, then running towards the nearest tower.

  “Perfect,” Young said. “Inside the South Tower, as intended.”

  “Intended?”

  Young straightened his back. Shrugged his shoulders to loosen his jacket.

  “Your man Mackenzie ran the show to get the suspect onto the bridge. And a bloody good job he did of it, too. But we’re in control of things now. It was obvious once she was over the water she wasn’t going anywhere. When I ordered the evacuation I left instructions for the north tower to be secured, and the overhead pedestrian walkway locked. The south tower to be left open. As it happens she went straight to the south tower anyway, which is where we want her. ”

  “You want her in the south tower?”

  “There will be any number of journalists on the embankment by now, with HD cameras picking up our every move. Some will be on the river. Not much the MPU can do about that. Inside the towers they suspects are out of the public’s view. CO19 can handle them without too many prying eyes.”

  “If they’re both inside the tower we can blockade them in,” Red suggested. “Starve them out if it comes to it. No need for any weapons to be fired.”

  Young stared at Red as if she were crazed. “Ma’am, we’ve just closed one of the city’s most important crossings. It’s causing traffic chaos.”

  Red looked up at the Police helicopter wide-circling the bridge, spotlights flashing through the falling rain. She stared at the spotlight as it danced across the blacktop and bounced over the towers.

  “We need this bridge operational, Ma’am.”

  Red thought, At what price? Nikki and Kevin both killed at the scene?

  She weighed up the possible scenarios in her mind. The Met can’t afford a public stand-off in one of London’s best-known landmarks. Least of all one that could go on for days. If Nikki and Kevin are inside the tower, alone, there will be no witnesses. No-one will worry about Nikki. A three-times murderer carrying a gun is a fair target. Kevin will be collateral damage. The inquiry afterwards would be a whitewash. Nothing for the IPCC to act on.

  She looked back at Young. “I’m going in.”

  “I can’t allow that, Ma’am.”


  Red flashed her ID at Young. “You were saying, Inspector? Tell CO19 to stand by. Tell them there’s a senior officer in the south tower, that the suspect knows and will talk to. Hostage negotiation.”

  Young’s protests were lost to the roar of the chopper as it turned above them and followed a path down the opposite side of the bridge. The Inspector watched helplessly as Red slammed her car into first gear, tearing up the deserted lanes of Tower Bridge. Police radio off. Mobile off. She didn’t need to discuss this with anyone. Least of all a superior officer who could overrule her.

  Tyres cut through newly formed puddles, displacing water like a speedboat pulling a water-skier. Headlights sliced through a wall of slanting rain. Colossal concrete arches loomed overhead, the blue and white, ornate steel side-structures flashing past her line of vision as she sped toward the stationary vehicle.

  Nikki Marshall’s car had been thrown to a halt by the south tower, the driver’s side door still open, the interior light still on. The door to the tower was blowing in the wind.

  Red slew her car to a halt behind Nikki’s, her right hand slipping beneath the left side of her jacket to confirm the firearm was still in place. Still there. Half relieved. Half disappointed. An excuse to walk away bites the dust.

  She sat a moment in the car, hands tight on the steering wheel, engine running, watching the wipers desperately try to hold back the deluge. Still time to turn back. Let CO19 handle it.

  In front of her lay the police blockade on the south bank. In her mirror, the police blockade on the north bank. A blaze of blue and white lights either side of the river, like a giant fireflies’ convention. The spotlight from the helicopter ran back and forth across the bridge, occasionally illuminating Nikki’s car.

  She guessed Nikki could already have her gun trained on her. One shot and it would all be over. She’s already killed three people. In cold blood, Red reminded herself.

  She thought of CO19. From discussion with Terri she knew the Met marksmen could pick Nikki off from the embankment, if she was in view. The Heckler and Koch G3. But that wasn’t on the agenda. Young had engineered things to be behind closed doors. That meant the Heckler and Koch MP5SF semiautomatic, or more likely a handgun, in the confined space of the tower. The Glock 17.

  She thought of her own museum piece. An ancient Smith and Wesson. Not even sure if it worked. She wondered what Nikki had.

  If anything.

  Supposing there was no weapon? Supposing Nikki was unarmed? All Anna had seen was an empty ammunition box.

  Whatever Nikki had done, there was no excuse for an execution.

  The decision was made.

  Chapter 143.

  She stepped into the rain, shrugging her jacket loose around her. Held her hands up. Not in surrender, just enough to be plain to anyone watching that she was unarmed. For the benefit of Nikki, inside. For the benefit of the audience on either bank of the Thames outside. For the benefit of the growing flotilla of small craft below. The Gabriel Franks among them.

  “Nikki. It’s Cass. Cass Rose.”

  The wind and rain carried her voice away, along with any response that may have been made.

  Red walked slowly towards the door. Logic said Nikki would have taken shelter inside. Moved to the highest point. A vantage point to defend herself if armed. A last futile hiding place if not.

  But logic said people did not dismember and kill innocent men, Red reminded herself. Three cold-blooded murders was life without parole. Adding a police officer to the list of victims was not going to make any difference. May as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb.

  She reached the door. Paused, ready to step into the dry. And the light. Lit up like a target. She wondered if she would feel anything. What was it like to be shot?

  Her hands stayed in the air.She stepped over the threshold. Dry air. Instinctively she wiped her eyes with her hand. Stopped herself. No sudden hand movements.She looked around the room. No Nikki. No Kevin. Wet foot prints trailed through a far door.

  Her arms came down slowly. She looked back out, into the semi-darkness of the bridge. She could just hear the sound of loudspeakers above the roar of the helicopter. Probably telling her to get out. She guessed CO19 must have arrived by now. They’d be considering their next move. Possibly they were on the bridge already. Heading towards her.

  Red turned and closed the main door. Bolted it from the inside.No-one would die tonight.

  She hoped.

  Chapter 144.

  “Nikki!” Red’s voice echoed through the entrance hall. No response.

  She followed the footprints to the far door, opening onto a maze of Victorian brick and steel. The engine rooms ahead, an ancient spiral staircase leading up. Red could just make out the moist residue of footprints on the lower steps.

  “Nikki! It’s Cass Rose. Jez’s boss. Can you hear me?”

  “Leave us alone!” The reply came from high above, distorted by rebounds against the steel structures that interweaved the tower.

  “It doesn’t have to be like this, Nikki,” Red shouted. “Let Kevin come down. Then we can talk.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about.”

  Red took a tentative first step onto the staircase. “I’m coming up, Nikki. Just me. No-one else is here.”

  “Stay where you are. Don’t come any closer.”

  “Nikki, CO19 are outside.” She could hear the roar of the helicopter through the thick walls. “CO19. Armed police, Nikki. They think you have a gun.”

  “I have.”

  Red’s blood ran cold. Any hope Nikki was unarmed evaporated. “They’ll shoot, Nikki. Shoot to kill, if need be.”

  Nikki’s head appeared way above, peering over the staircase banister. “Where’s Jez?”

  “He’s not here.”

  “I didn’t mean to hurt him.”

  “He’s fine.”

  “Who else is with you?”

  It’s just me and you.”

  Nikki looked past Red, searching for any sign of movement.

  “There’s no-one else,” Red said. “It’s just me and you, Nikki.”

  “And Kevin.”

  “And Kevin,” Red added, “And CO19 outside. Lots of them. All armed. All trained marksmen. All willing to fire. Once they come through it’s out of my hands.”

  “I thought you were the boss-lady.”

  “I am. At the moment. While there’s only me here. I don’t have any authority over CO19. Nikki, I bolted the door, To keep them out.”

  “You did?”

  “To give us time to talk. CO19 won’t talk. Nikki. Do you understand that? They’ll shoot. To kill. Why not let Kevin come down? He’s nothing to do with this.”

  “I can’t. He needs me.”

  “No-one will hurt him if he’s with me.” Red squinted against the rainwater dripping from her hair into her eyes. She grabbed the wooden banister rail. Hauled herself up another step.

  “Stay where you are!”

  “Nikki, I’m coming up. To get Kevin. To take him to safety.”

  “No!” A gun appeared in Nikki’s hand, aimed down towards Red.

  Red stopped. This wasn’t a movie. In real life people don’t dive out of the way faster than a speeding bullet. She took deep breaths. Keep control. She remembered what Terri had told her. A handgun is pretty useless except at close quarters, even when held by a marksman.

  She estimated Nikki to be forty feet or more above. Terri hadn’t spelt out close quarters in feet and inches but Red guessed this didn’t qualify. But Terri’s other warning came rushing in to challenge Red’s confidence. If the shot missed the rebound could hit anyone. Red looked about her. Bricks, concrete, steel. Plenty to rebound from.

  “Nikki, there’s no way out. Let’s sort this sensibly. No-one needs to get hurt.”

  “I’m warning you! I’ll shoot!”

  “If you kill me, Nikki, neither you nor Kevin will leave here alive. I’m your only witness when CO19 bust the door.”

  “I ca
n’t let you do this.” Nikki’s voice quavered. “Kevin needs me.”

  Red took another step up.

  Nikki grabbed Kevin, arm around his neck, pulling him into view. Her other arm brought up the gun. Muzzle at Kevin’s head. His face was blank, like he had no idea what was going on. Nikki’s eyes blazed in the distance.

  “I’ll shoot him!”

  Red stood steady. “No you won’t, Nikki. He’s your brother, not some stranger. Let him go. I’ll make sure he’s not hurt.”

  “No. He needs me. Without me his life isn’t worth living.”

  “If you harm Kevin there’s nothing I can do for you.”

  “There’s nothing you can do for me anyway.” She pulled back, out of view. “Don’t come any further.”

  The helicopter loomed close outside, drowning out anything else Nikki may have said.

  Red took a deep breath, pulled the Smith and Wesson from inside her jacket. She raced up the stairs. Cagney and Lacy came to mind. She managed a smile. Ran from one curve to the next, pausing, gun in both hands like Terri had shown her, gaining confidence.

  The helicopter drifted closer, then away. Down below she could hear faint hammering on the door. CO19. Time was running out fast. She bounded the last steps, breathless. Came to what she recognized as the landing Nikki’s had been on. No-one. No sign of Nikki or Kevin.

  Further steps led upwards. To her side, a door half open. A workman’s sign outside. A maze of orange construction ribbon forbidding access. Through the doorway disturbed dust suggested recent activity.

  Red threw a glance up the stairs, then turned to the door. Stopped outside it. Wiped sweaty palms on her jeans and repositioned the gun in two hands.

  She put a foot up. Kicked the door wide, so it slammed against the inside wall. No-one hiding there. Those Hollywood films were good for something after all.

  A mass of renovation work met her eye, the room lit from the bridge lamps through the row of huge windows on the far wall. Replica Victorian bricks and steel girders piled around. Various construction tools. No Nikki. No Kevin. But the helicopter was louder. She was sure of that.