Saffina Desforges' ROSE RED Crime Thriller Boxed Set

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by Saffina Desforges


  “Granted, Cass, but Jeremy was courting the girl. He’s a trained police officer. Surely he must have seen the signs.”

  Chapter 163.

  “I should have seen the signs,” Harris said into his mocha glass.

  Anna reached out a soothing hand. “No-one’s blaming you, Jez. There was nothing you could have done.”

  “I should have recognized her on the CCTV footage. I knew her better than anybody.”

  “We all know how lousy CCTV images are. Is that why you brought me here? So you can feel sorry for yourself one last time?”

  Harris felt his cheeks colour. “No. I wanted to say thanks, to you. For being there. For being a friend.”

  “Jez, you’re making me blush.”

  “I mean it,” Harris persisted. “You know, Barry’s a good mate and all that, but I could never have got through this with him alongside me.”

  “It was a pleasure working with you, Jez.” Anna raised her latte. “Sorry about all the coffee. Back on pints with the boys Monday evening, right?”

  Harris slugged down his mocha in one. “So long as they don’t talk about Nikki.”

  “You’ll get over her, Jez.”

  Harris forced a laugh. “Yeah, you’re right. To be honest, I don’t know what possessed me to go out with her in her first place.”

  Anna grinned. “I can think of two things right away.”

  Chapter 164.

  Pippa swilled the wine in her glass. “I mean, what on Earth possessed him to court a girl like Nikki Marshall in the first place?”

  Red grinned. “I can think of two things, right away.”

  “Cass, really.”

  “Leave it out, Counsellor. You’re just as bad. Whose idea was it to come here again? On ladies only night?”

  “Is it? I didn’t realise.”

  Red gestured around her at the all-female clientele and the half-naked waitresses. “It’s pretty bloody obvious.”

  Pippa affected a show of nonchalance. “But it’s only once a month. How was I supposed to know it would be this evening?”

  “Counsellor, I saw your To Do list the other day. The one that said Call Scarlett’s. Enquire when next ladies’ night is.”

  “Oh.”

  “Don’t get me wrong, Pip. I think it’s great that you’re beginning to let go.”

  Pippa twirled the stem of the glass thoughtfully. “Champagne next, I think.”

  “That’s right, you enjoy yourself while I have another bloody Coke.”

  “We could have got a taxi. It was you who insisted on driving.”

  “Big meeting with the Chief Super first thing. I want a clear head. And no, it’s not about sending me off to Virginia.”

  “Well I’m having champagne, Cass. I’m sure you can manage one with glass with me.”

  “At these prices?”

  “Cass, you’re a DCI now, for God’s sake. You earn almost half what I do.”

  Red slumped back into her seat. “Yeah. Thanks for reminding me.”

  “That’s not what I meant, Cass, as well you know. I’m fully aware my income exceeds yours, but that’s a barrister’s life for you.” A sympathetic smile. “But it’s all relative. Compared to the likes of Jeremy Harris, you earn a fortune. My earnings paled into insignificance beside Richard’s. I’m merely stating that now you have substantially upped your salary you need to live accordingly.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like not shopping at Tesco, for example.”

  “Nowt wrong with Tesco. It’s the most popular supermarket in the country.”

  “I rest my case.”

  “Can we change the subject? Please?”

  “As you wish.” Pippa eased back into her seat. “The night out is in your honour, after all. I wonder if you’ll receive a commendation.”

  “A commendation? Pip, be serious. The suspect was killed.”

  Pippa chose to ignore this minor detail. “I’ll have to get a new dress of course. I’ve been photographed in the black Gucci before. Where was that? Do you recall?”

  “For Christ’s sake, chill, woman! Relax and admire the totty.”

  “Cassandra.”

  “Don’t Cassandra me. You were drooling over one of the waitresses here last time, remember?”

  “I was not drooling, Cass. Please don’t exaggerate.”

  “Counsellor, your eyes were popping out on springs and your tongue was dragging on the floor.”

  Pippa managed a sheepish smile. “Perhaps I had a little too much that evening.”

  “Pip, you don’t have to apologise. It’s natural. If you see a beautiful woman, you’re going to be attracted to her. That’s fine with me. Look all you want. Just don’t touch.”

  Pippa gazed into Red’s eyes. “Really?”

  “Really.” Red took Pippa’s hand. “Of course, that works both ways, lover.”

  Pippa snatched back her hand. “It most certainly does not. You so much as glance at another woman and I’ll –”

  “Champagne, ladies?”

  An ice bucket appeared on the table. A magnum of Krug and two exquisitely engraved glasses.

  Red swung her gaze in the direction of the melodious voice. “We didn’t order…”

  “With Gabrielle’s compliments,” a girl in a shimmering black-blue shirt explained.

  “I think you may have the wrong table,” Pippa said. “Not that we wouldn’t love some champagne ourselves, but we don’t know any Gabrielle. It’s only our second time here.”

  “Gabrielle Roscoe?” The girl nodded towards a woman perched elegantly on the edge of a stool, talking into her iPhone. “Gabrielle asked me to welcome you back to Scarlett’s, and to remind you that the Exclusive Members Club is still at your disposal.”

  Pippa gazed across the room. “Yes, Gabrielle. Of course. We met briefly last time. Why, thank you. Won’t you ask her to join us?”

  The waitress popped the cork and poured two glasses of bubbly. “Gabrielle regrets she has a prior engagement this evening. She was just about to leave when she saw you both. But I am at your disposal, should you need anything. Anything at all. Just ask.”

  “Thank you,” Red said. “We’ll bear that in mind, Miss… Sorry, I didn’t catch your name?”

  “Lexi.”

  “Thank you, Lexi.” Red forced herself not to dwell on the way Lexi’s eyes cut through the semi-darkness like emerald torches. “And thank Gabrielle for the champagne.”

  “A pleasure, Cassandra. It is okay to address you as Cassandra, isn’t it? Chief Inspector Rose is such a mouthful.”

  “Cass will do fine.”

  Lexi turned to Pippa, “And you, Ms. Crichton-Ward? May I call you Philippa?”

  “Of course,” Pippa beamed. “And please tell Gabrielle we simply insist on the pleasure of her company when we next visit.”

  “I most certainly will.” Lexi’s hand lingered briefly on Red’s shoulder. “Good evening to you both.”

  Pippa turned towards the proprietor to mouth thank you. “Oh, she’s gone. We will have to say thank you next time.”

  Red raised an eyebrow at Pippa. “Next time, Counsellor?”

  “Well, we can hardly drink her champagne gift and then never return, can we.”

  “Free champagne and I’m on the wagon,” Red sighed. “I wonder if they do doggy bags for champers?”

  “Cass, you are incorrigible.”

  “Don’t use big words, Pip. You’re not in Court now.” Red sipped the champagne. “Perfect. But that’s my lot.”

  “All the more for me,” Pippa giggled.

  “I wonder how Lexi knew who we were,” Red mused. “Did we tell Gabrielle our names last time?”

  “I’m sure we must have.”

  “Our first names, may be. But I certainly wouldn’t have mentioned my rank.”

  “Cassandra, you’re a senior officer in the largest police force in England, and you have recently been splashed across the media. Twice.” Pippa’s teeth flashed in the gloom. “
You are really going to have to get used to being recognised.”

  “There’s more to it,” Red said quietly. “I got the feeling they were deliberately letting us know they know who we are.”

  “Cassandra, really. If I may throw your own words back at you, chill, woman! Now, about that new dress. McCartney or Lacroix?”

  Red’s response was cut short by the ping of her mobile.

  Pippa glared. “I thought we agreed no phones?”

  “After last time? As you just said, Counsellor, I’m a senior officer. I can’t just disappear when it suits me. But don’t worry. It’s only a text. The team have strict instructions. Text me on any significant developments, but call only in an absolute emergency.”

  Pippa pulled the Krug from the ice and replenished the glasses while Red checked the message.

  “Well? Was it significant enough for you?”

  Red shrugged. “It was Jim. Another arson attack in a high-rise flat.”

  “And that’s significant?”

  “I’m not sure,” said Red. “But the previous three arsons all happened the same night as the Nikki Marshall murders.”

  Chapter 165.

  “Coincidence,” Harris said. “Got to be.”

  Anna nodded her agreement. “Pete and Lee had this wild theory the fires and the murders were connected in some way.”

  “Just because they happened on the same nights,” Harris reminded her. “Even I’m not stupid enough to fall for that one. Reminds me, how’s Lee doing? I bet I’m the only one of us who hasn’t been up the hospital to see him.”

  “Lee’s still unconscious, and yes, you are. But we all understand you’ve had other things on your mind.”

  “I’ll go tomorrow. Take him some grapes. Poor bastard.”

  “Maybe it was Kevin,” Anna said with a hint of a smile.

  Harris stared at her. “Rain Man knifed Lee?”

  “The fires. Keep up. Kevin used to start little fires and then sneak into the girls’ dorm while everyone’s attention was elsewhere.”

  “The girls’ dorm? I didn’t think he was interested in girls.”

  “He wasn’t. He just went in there to try on their clothes. Some kind of juvenile tranny, I think. Did you bother to read any of that scrapbook?”

  “Nah. Helping Rain Man sort himself for a couple of days is one thing. I don’t want to know his bloody life-story.” Harris shuddered at the memory of finding Kevin in Nikki’s bed. “I’m finished with him now, anyway.”

  “What about the scrapbook?”

  “Dropped it back this morning, with the key. Which reminds me.” Harris fished in his wallet for the card he had picked up. “SOCO missed this. Useless tossers. Rain Man must have found it after they left.”

  Harris pushed the card across the table as evidence of SOCO’s incompetence. Anna picked it up. Stared mystified at Harris. “Samantha?”

  Chapter 166.

  “You know, I could get used to this place.” Pippa said.

  “I could get used to anywhere that dishes out free champagne, even if I get to drink one glass.”

  “Well that’s a bonus, granted,” Pippa agreed. “But I was thinking more the ambience. The lighting is just right, and the music is just loud enough to stop other people overhearing one’s conversation, but not so loud as to prevent one conversing in the first place.”

  “And the scenery’s pretty good too,” Red added as a tassel-breasted waitress slid past them.

  Pippa affected not to have noticed. She twirled her champagne flute in the light of the table lamp. “These glasses look familiar.”

  “Hardly surprising. We have been here before.”

  “But we did not partake of champagne on that occasion,” Pippa countered.

  “Why can’t you just say we didn’t drink champagne, like any else would say?”

  “The answer is in your question, Cassandra.” Pippa examined the flute a second time. “Actually, we may have had champagne here the last time, but not on these glasses. We had flutes like these somewhere else entirely.”

  “If you say so, Counsellor.”

  “Of course! The Transylvanian Alps!”

  “Sorry?”

  “We saw the same champagne glasses at that bizarre Romanian restaurant we went to. Remember?”

  Red shrugged. “It’s not the sort of thing I take much notice of.”

  “Yes, well I do. The receptacle one’s drink is served in is a fine indicator of the overall standing of the establishment. Most unusual. Probably part of the same consignment. But they are rather attractive.”

  “So long as the champers tastes good, I don’t really care if it comes in a fancy glass or a disposable plastic cup.”

  “Really, Cassandra,” Pippa muttered. “I sometimes wonder what it was I ever saw in you.”

  Chapter 167.

  “Samantha?” Anna asked again.

  Harris shot a mystified glance at Anna. “Samantha who?”

  Anna pushed the card back to him. “The Samantha that wrote her name on this card?”

  Harris picked it up, a puzzled expression on his face. He shrugged. “Oh. I didn’t actually read it. Just assumed it was one of Nikki’s.”

  “But you definitely found it in Nikki’s flat? Today?”

  “This morning.” Harris studied the card a second time. A threw the card onto the table with a dismissive wave of the hand. “That’s not Nikki’s handwriting anyway. Must be one of her escort friends.” A smile spread across his face. “Hope she doesn’t miss her date.”

  It was Anna’s turn to look mystified. “Date?”

  “Some geezer phoned while I was there. Left a message for Samantha. Said he’d be at the Romney at twelve, not twelve-thirty.”

  “Someone phoned Nikki’s home number? Asking for Samantha?”

  Harris shrugged. “I just said yeah, I’d pass the message on. No big deal.”

  Anna played with a paper napkin, furling and unfurling it around her index finger. “Jez, did you actually see the card Barry found at the murder scene.”

  Harris cast his mind back. “Yeah, the evidence against Nikki was all laid out on the Super’s desk. Bam! Bam! Bam! One thing after another. I was just sat there, gobsmacked.”

  “But did you actually pick up the card and examine it?”

  Harris shook his head. “It’s not like the Super was gonna lie to me, Anna. And they had the DNA match from her hair. Anything else was irrelevant.”

  “It was Nikki’s hair, alright. But that doesn’t mean…” Anna sipped on her latte. She said quietly, “I saw that card first-hand. And I read the scrapbook.”

  “So?”

  “And now I’ve got this new card, staring me in the face.”

  Harris shrugged. “And?”

  “You just told me this isn’t Nikki’s handwriting.”

  “It’s not. I know how she writes.”

  “You told me the scrapbook wasn’t Nikki’s handwriting either.”

  “It wasn’t.”

  “Sure?”

  “Sure.”

  “How sure?”

  “A hundred and one per cent. Her writing goes to the right. This slants to the left. Why? What’s the big deal?”

  “Jez, the handwriting in the scrapbook and on the card Barry found is identical to the handwriting on this one.”

  Chapter 168.

  “I thought the Count looked rather like Bela Lugosi,” Pippa said, a playful smile on her lips.

  “Before my time, Counsellor. Give me Christopher Lee any day. You know, false fingernails aside, you’ve gotta admit that food was pretty good. Maybe we should give the Count a second chance. Anna’s been back there with her toy-boy, Jason. They can’t get enough of it.”

  “Isn’t that against regulations?”

  “Liking Romanian food?”

  “Anna Hargreaves and this Jason. Did you not say he works in admin?”

  “I don’t think it’s a hanging offence.”

  Pippa giggled. “I’d be there
defending him if it were.”

  “Counsellor, I do believe you’re getting a trifle merry.”

  “Don’t be silly, Cass. I’ve only had a couple of glasses.”

  Red pulled the empty bottle from the ice bucket. “How many?”

  Pippa giggled again. “That’s the freebie gone. Time to start buying our own.” She waved a hand to attract a waitress. “Another bottle of this sparking nectar, beautiful.” Pippa reached out and tapped the waitress’s tassel with her finger. “You should get some of these, Cass. They’d suit you.”

  Red stared open-mouthed at Pippa. “I cannot believe you just said that.”

  Pippa smiled. “Chill, woman. If one must have too much to drink, then do it in style, with champagne.”

  “I was talking about the tassels. And you nearly touched her breasts.”

  “Only nearly, Cass. You did say I could look but not touch.”

  Red grinned. “You really are letting your hair down tonight, lover.”

  Pippa reached a hand behind her head and released the bun, shaking her dark hair down over her shoulders. “Both metaphorically and literally.”

  Red seized the moment. “You know when we were at Casa Dracula or whatever it was called? We talked about the New Year’s break in the Lake’s?”

  Pippa looked around anxiously for the waitress. “Hurry up with that bottle, guys?” To Red, “It’s all booked up. Everything’s sorted. Why?”

  Red took a deep breath. “There’s been a development.”

  Pippa looked around again. “Here she comes. I do hope it’s nicely chilled. What sort of development?”

  Red timed herself carefully. She watched Pippa staring with glazed eyes at the tassels as the waitress popped the champagne cork and leaned over to fill their glasses. Waited until the waitress stood, bottle still in hand. Close enough that Pippa wouldn’t cause a scene. She said, “Nathan Hunter’s on the run.”

  Pippa’s glass stopped halfway to her mouth. She stared at Red as if she must have misheard. Then a slow smile spread across her face. She downed her glass in one, holding it out to the waitress for a refill.

 

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