She fumbled in her bag for the separate keyring she deliberately kept away from her main set. It was an attempt to, symbolically at least, keep this part of her life, the one inside the building, from clashing with the other.
Her fingers felt like ice as she clasped the fob and pulled it from her bag. She swiped it over the sensor on the wall beside her and the front door to the building gave an audible click and a green light flashed on the panel.
Grasping the handle, Claire yanked it and went inside.
As usual the lift was out of order, so she took a slow walk up the stairs to the fourth floor. The air on this level was stale. The large windows on this floor, at this time in the afternoon, allowed direct sunlight through the thin single-glazing glass. The heat generated was relentless and Claire popped open another button of her shirt.
There were two flats on this side of the building, and Claire now stood in front of the second one and steeled herself inside.
She pushed her spare key into the lock…
CHAPTER 7
Another viewing with a client had gone well and Adrian had negotiated an unfair price on behalf of another greedy landlord taking full advantage of the housing crisis for another shitty little studio flat.
Another successful day for some.
Adrian sauntered through the office leaving his usual sense of arrogance and pride wafting in invisible lines behind him.
He made himself a coffee before heading back to his office. He unlocked his PC screen, taking a sip of his coffee while he checked his diary for the afternoon. He scrolled down the page in front of him, and then paused, his gut tightening.
He glanced at his watch.
It was after 3:30pm and Amelia Williams would be there in ten minutes according to his diary. Confused, Adrian shouted to his PA through the closed door rather than ring her using the internal phone.
‘Mary!’
He could hear her rushing up from her seat. Mary slid her head around the door, her long brown curly hair falling around her face, which always reminded Adrian of a poodle crossed with a King Charles spaniel. Her big blank brown eyes stared back at him.
‘Yes, Adrian?’
He pointed to the screen. She glanced at it and pulled a face.
‘Why is she booked to come and see me in ten minutes? This appointment wasn’t in my diary this morning.’
Mary flushed. ‘Sorry, Adrian. She called up this afternoon and said she needed to talk to you. I tried to speak with you but you were busy on a conference call.’ She paused and looked upset. ‘She was very forceful. I just booked her in. I meant to tell you but…I guess I forgot. I’m sorry.’
Adrian cursed under his breath. He turned and waved her away and she scurried out of the room.
Before Adrian had a chance to think, his phone rang. It was the main reception calling and Adrian pulled a face as he picked up the receiver.
‘Adrian Brown…OK…I’ll send Mary.’ He hung up and rested his forehead in his hands. He was dreading what might come next.
He asked Mary to prepare some coffee after she had seen Amelia to his office and asked that she not disturb them. Mary soon returned carrying two steaming cups. She watched bright green eyes follow her as she placed a coffee cup in front of Amelia on Adrian’s desk, before passing her a sideways glance of disapproval.
This amused Amelia.
Clearly the buck hadn’t stopped with her and who knew how many women Adrian had cheated.
She glanced up towards Adrian and his eyes met hers, studying her face intensely. Amelia waited until Mary closed the door to his office before smiling at him. She reached for her coffee and took a sip.
‘You may want to keep that one. She makes quite good coffee.’
He shook his head. ‘Why are you here? We’re not supposed to meet like this.’
‘There’re lots of things we shouldn’t be doing but that hasn’t stopped you.’
Adrian’s lips pulled upright into a grin. His eyes wandered from her face towards her shoulders, noting the thin white camisole top that hugged her delicate body. Her hair fell roughly tousled around her face, with tendrils touching the tops of her bare arms.
‘Still, we shouldn’t be meeting here at the office like this. You draw too much attention and unwanted questions. I don’t make it a habit to meet tenants privately in my office.’
‘Just screw them, then?’
‘Only you.’
Adrian watched her eyes, which seemed to him to be a darker shade of green today. It made him uneasy and restless.
‘Why are you here? You saw me a few hours ago. Why not say something then?’
Amelia lowered her cup back onto his desk, her eyes never leaving his. ‘You were rather pre-occupied at the time.’
‘I’m a busy man. Spit it out, I don’t have time for games.’
‘But you play them so well.’ She leaned forward, her hair framing her pretty face in a wild red glow.
Adrian cursed under his breath but still he stared longingly at her.
At length, Amelia got up from her chair and walked around the desk to stand behind his chair.
Her hands pressed down hard on top of his shoulders.
Her fingers curled, clawing him in her grasp.
Adrian felt her nails dig into his flesh.
CHAPTER 8
By the time Claire had driven back to the office, she tried to look as if the last forty minutes hadn’t happened.
She sat in her car in the station car park, pulled her sunglasses off, and tossed them on the dash. She peered into the rear-view mirror. She dabbed around her eyes with her fingertips, removing any smears of make-up before heading into the station.
As she walked into CID, DI David Matthews was on her as soon as she was through the door.
‘Guv,’ he said, too loudly, in her ear, enough for her to glance across the room to where Michael was sitting, watching them closely.
‘Guv, can I have a word?’
She gave a curt nod, and he followed her through to her office, shutting the door behind him. As Claire sat down in her chair, she risked another glance at Michael. She had a perfect line of sight to his desk through the glass partition walls of her office.
He was rifling paperwork on his desk, and then peering at his computer screen, pretending to be busy.
Claire knew he was watching them, watching her.
Every single move.
‘Have a seat, Matthews,’ she said as she booted up her computer. He sat in one of the chairs opposite her desk and just smiled. Claire raised her eyes to meet his. ‘Why are you grinning at me like a Cheshire cat?’
Matthews leaned forward, clasping his hands together and rested them on her desk. ‘The Hargreaves case?’ he said. ‘I got your email. Thought now would be a good time to go through everything.’
Claire glanced towards Michael’s desk again. He wasn’t there. She felt herself relax a little.
She found herself smiling back at Matthews, her ice-blue eyes glowing in amusement. ‘I thought you’d be pleased. You wanted to work the Hargreaves case and now I’m making you SIO, we’ll discuss the details tomorrow, with Diego.’
She paused and considered her next words carefully.
‘And before you ask, Diego didn’t take it too well – about Hargreaves – so do me a favour and don’t rub his bloody nose in it. I’m working the Wainwright murder with him. The last thing I need is him resenting me any more than he does already.’
Matthews was beaming. His dark-brown eyes looked out of Claire’s office, across the incident room to the work station he shared with the other underdogs – mainly the DCs in his eyes. He shouldn’t even be sitting near them. He was meant for better things.
He wanted Claire’s crown and this was his big foothold on the ladder.
He leaned forward, his floppy brown hair falling around his eyes. He brushed it back with his left hand and offered his other to Claire. ‘I can’t thank you enough.’
Claire stared at his han
d then reluctantly shook it. ‘Just don’t let me down… Don’t make me regret this.’
Business and pleasure didn’t mix, Claire knew that, and she’d learnt the hard way. The last thing she needed was people talking about her and Matthews and she couldn’t afford to be showing any favouritism.
‘I need results on the Hargreaves case. I’ve got DSI Donahue breathing down my neck and the press aren’t exactly painting a pretty picture about us at the moment,’ she said, her eyes lowered. ‘They’re calling the whole investigation a farce. No justice for the families…the usual.’
Her eyes met his.
He nodded. ‘Not a problem, Guv. I won’t let you down.’
Claire gestured for him to leave. ‘I’ll be holding you to that.’
After Matthews had left, Claire’s BlackBerry rang.
She saw the screen. Chose to ignore it. When the call diverted to voicemail, she switched the phone off.
***
Michael headed outside the main building, lit himself a cigarette and walked towards the designated smoking area. He leaned up against the wall and exhaled a stream of smoke.
He closed his eyes.
‘You look like shit.’
Michael opened his eyes and saw the familiar grin of DC Gabriel Harper standing a few feet from him.
Michael allowed himself a small smile. ‘Love you too, Gabe.’
‘It’s just an observation, mate,’ he said, now standing beside him. ‘Got one to spare?’ he said, nodding towards Michael’s cigarette.
Michael offered him the pack and lighter from his pocket. Harper lit one, and gave Michael a prod in the arm as he handed it back.
‘What’s been going on with you?’
Michael shrugged. ‘The Hargreaves case. I’ve worked my arse off on it, and it’s drained me.’
Harper squinted, the sun hurting his eyes. ‘And now Matthews is taking it on.’
Michael shot him a look. ‘I wasn’t aware that was common knowledge yet.’
‘It wasn’t until, like, five minutes ago, when he waltzed out the Guv’s office, smug grin on his face, and made a big show of collecting the Hargreaves files.’ He gave him a sympathetic look. ‘Wasn’t very subtle, mate.’ He paused. ‘I’m gutted for you, if I’m honest. The one chance we had to get Hargreaves once and for all and you could’ve nailed him. Now, I’m not so sure…’
Michael plucked the half-smoked cigarette from between his lips and chucked it to the ground.
‘You’d better keep that to yourself, Gabe,’ he said, brushing past him on his way back into the building.
CHAPTER 9
Amelia turned the key and let herself into her flat. She reached for her mobile phone which she’d left on the kitchen worktop and dialled the number she knew off by heart.
Calling G flashed across the screen before she put it to her ear. It seemed an eternity but finally her call was answered.
‘Is it done?’ the voice said.
‘It is. He won’t be bothering me any time soon, but I get the feeling it won’t be the last time we’ll be dealing with him.’
‘What did you do?’
‘I used my…persuasive charms.’
There was a long pause.
‘You didn’t hurt him, did you?’
‘Just a scratch… Did I do wrong?’
‘No, but we must focus on our goal.’
‘He’ll keep up the rent-side of the deal. He won’t get my body in return, if that’s what’s bothering you.’
The quietness on the line told Amelia this was pleasing news.
‘When can I see you?’ she said.
‘Soon.’ There was another long pause. All Amelia could hear was soft breathing on the line.
‘I loved you, since the moment you first came into my life. Remember that.’
Amelia bit her bottom lip hard. Every time she heard those words it all but stopped her heart right there and then. ‘I know,’ she said at length.
The phone clicked before going dead.
Amelia placed her phone back on the counter top and took the flick knife from her pocket, pulled back the blade and smiled.
***
Adrian Brown looked down at his blood-soaked shirt sleeve.
Bile began to rise in his throat, but he suppressed the urge to vomit. He applied pressure to the wound, fighting back the urge to scream.
He doubled over in pain, and blood seeped through his fingers.
He remembered the look on Amelia’s face as she’d plunged the knife into his upper arm, and how her other hand had pressed firmly over his mouth as he had screamed.
He’d felt like he would pass out but he had fought against it when they had heard Mary approach the office. Under duress he’d told her through the door that he was fine.
He’d waited with bated breath until he’d heard footsteps leading away, Mary’s curiosity shot down in an instant.
He’d sighed and shut his eyes.
When he had looked back at Amelia, her attention was on the blood seeping through his shirt. His gaze had followed down to her right hand, fingers gripping the handle of the knife firmly, her knuckles white. In that moment he had tried to think back to where it had all started to fall apart.
Then she had wrenched the blade from his arm.
Her eyes had never left his as she wiped the knife clean with a tissue. The perks he’d got from their financial agreement were over. She’d made that crystal clear.
He waited until she’d left his office before removing his tie and securing it tightly around his shoulder, pulling it tight. He then put his suit jacket on. He would wait half an hour before risking going to A&E.
He waved Mary away when she tried to enter his office. She looked hurt but he didn’t care.
Amelia had been a worthwhile distraction at the time but now she was a threat, an inconvenience.
She had to be dealt with as quickly and discreetly as possible.
CHAPTER 10
It was just after nine the next morning and Michael sighed at the No Smoking sign on the door in front of him. He dropped the remainder of his cigarette on the floor, crushing it under his foot. He exhaled the last dreg of smoke from his dry lips, pushed open the main door and entered the reception area of St Catherine’s.
He felt the eyes of the middle-aged receptionist burning into his body as he approached the glass window at the front of the reception booth.
Looking behind her he could see other workstations and a main office at the back with a sign on it.
‘Can I help you?’ she said, brushing an imaginary strand of hair behind her ear. Michael noticed how, although her face was lined and her hair was showing signs of grey, she was not an unattractive lady. He forced a smile and maintained direct eye contact with her.
‘Detective Sergeant Michael Diego,’ he said, showing her his warrant card.
He saw her stiffen.
He was used to that response as soon as people found out what he was. ‘I need to speak with the Head, if he’s around.’
‘He is a she, and rather busy this morning. You should have made an appointment.’
He’d been anticipating this response. ‘Tell her it’s important. Tell her it’s in relation to a murder inquiry.’
The woman froze.
‘I’ll wait right here until she’s ready to see me,’ he said, taking a seat in one of the chairs in the waiting area. ‘Oh, and I take my coffee black, one sugar, thanks.’
The receptionist bristled but headed towards the office behind her. After five minutes she reappeared with a mug of coffee and handed it over, handle facing away from him deliberately. He smiled, wincing inwardly at the heat burning his fingers.
The receptionist forced a smile. ‘Miss Wallis will be with you soon. Until then, please wait here. We don’t allow visitors to wander around the school unescorted.’
***
Miss Wallis was a mature lady, Michael noticed, as she approached him twenty minutes later. She had grey hair which was immac
ulately kept at shoulder length. She wore a long black skirt with a matching suit jacket. Her glasses sat low on her nose, and she pushed them higher before extending her hand to him.
‘Sergeant Diego? I’m Linda Wallis, what can I do for you?’
Michael rose from his chair and took her hand, noticing how firm her handshake was. He smiled at her but was met with a cold hard stare, her eyes studying him with caution.
Michael released her hand and slid his own back into his trouser pocket.
He grew aware of the receptionist’s eyes on them both.
‘Perhaps we should speak in your office, Mrs Wallis.’
‘It’s Miss.’ Linda paused before extending her arm towards her office. ‘This way, please, Sergeant.’
Linda’s office was small and static. Everything was formal and had its place: a small bookcase filled with educational books, a rather dull-looking print of something Michael recognised as by Henri Matisse, and a very bare-looking desk with only a few essential pieces of stationery.
Linda sat behind her desk but Michael waited until she motioned him to one of the two large blue upholstered chairs in front of her desk.
‘Forgive me if we skip the pleasantries, Sergeant, but I have a school to run, and I don’t take too kindly to people who demand to see me without making an appointment first.’
Linda let the statement rest in the air for a few moments, making Michael stir in his chair before continuing. ‘I’m sure you can appreciate that I’m a very busy woman.’
She pulled her lips into a forced smile. Michael could tell she was the kind of employer to defend her colleagues to the end. In his experience, closing ranks was typical of teachers and quite frankly, he didn’t have a lot of time for them.
‘Miss Wallis, I must apologise for not making an appointment first but this is an urgent…delicate matter. I’m investigating a murder that took place yesterday in St Mary’s church.’
Linda stared at him, her face hardening. ‘I heard about that… I fail to see how I can help you.’
‘It’s not you I’ve come to see. I must speak with one of your teachers, a Mr Jenkins. I believe he teaches RS here.’
For All Our Sins: A gripping thriller with a killer twist (DCI Claire Winters, Book 1) Page 4
