by Roberta Kray
Chris gave a nod, but his eyes wouldn’t meet hers. He quickly lowered his gaze to the table.
‘Isn’t it?’ asked Ava, feeling a flicker of apprehension.
He glanced up at her again. ‘If we’re clearing the decks, there is one other thing.’
Ava sighed. What now? She braced herself for bad news, for some disturbing revelation that she might not be able to deal with. ‘Go on.’
‘It’s to do with Danny.’ He pulled a face, looking embarrassed. ‘He’s kind of got the idea that we’re an item. You see, being the male chauvinist pig that he is, he doesn’t think I’d actually hire a woman to be my driver and so he reckons something else must be going on.’
She smiled, relieved that it was nothing more serious. ‘So why don’t you just put him straight?’
‘Ah, well, I would, only his crazy girlfriend keeps trying to fix me up with one of her mates, and so…’
‘And so you’d prefer to have an imaginary girlfriend.’
‘Something like that.’
Ava laughed. ‘God, how old are you?’
Chris looked taken aback. ‘What’s that got to do with anything?’
‘You’re a grown man,’ she said. ‘Can’t you just tell him to push off and mind his own business?’
‘I could, but it wouldn’t make a blind bit of difference. And I’m telling you, this girl he’s seeing is completely nuts. Believe me, it’s easier this way.’ He picked up a teaspoon and twisted it around in his fingers. ‘Unless you’re uncomfortable with the idea. I mean, I’d understand if you were. It’s a bit weird, I guess.’
‘No,’ she said. ‘I sort of get it. After I split up with Alec, people were always trying to fix me up with someone else. They just don’t get that you might be happier on your own. God, the amount of dinner parties I was invited to where there was always a spare male who would be “just right” for me.’
‘And are you?’
‘Am I what?’
‘Happier on your own?’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I think so. For the most part. It can be lonelier being with someone who doesn’t love you than it is being single.’ She felt his eyes on her and coloured a little, realising that she’d said more than she meant to. ‘But anyway, isn’t there a flaw in this great plan of yours? I mean, aren’t they going to wonder why I’m never round at your place, why I never stay over?’
‘Oh, I’ll think of something.’
‘A dog, maybe,’ she suggested. ‘I could have a dog that I don’t like to leave on its own overnight.’
‘What kind of dog?’
‘How should I know? You decide. Something not too big, though – and not too small either. I don’t want one of those handbag dogs. And we’ll have to come up with a name. You can’t have a dog with no name.’
He drank some of his tea and grinned. ‘This could get complicated.’
‘You started it. Maybe next time you’ll think twice about getting involved with an employee.’
‘So does that mean you’ll be coming back to work, then?’
‘I suppose so. I’ve not had any better offers.’
‘Monday, then. I’ll see you at ten.’
Ava took a couple of pound coins out of her purse and put them on the table for the coffee.
Chris waved the money away. ‘It’s on me.’
‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘But you still owe me sixty quid.’
‘You’ll get it.’
‘I know I will.’ She got up, put on her coat and said goodbye. As she left the café, she wondered if she’d made the right decision. Oh well, there was no going back now. She gave a small shake of her head as she trudged towards the flat. Last night, courtesy of Tash, she’d had to pretend that Lydia was her new best friend. Now she had to pretend – to his brother and his crazy girlfriend – that Chris Street was her lover. Her imaginary life had taken on a whole new dimension. Still, at least her job was real. That was something to be grateful for.
23
DI Valerie Middleton gazed through the slats of the blind into the incident room beyond. It was early Saturday afternoon and everything was quiet. It was, however, only the lull before the storm. When darkness fell, the partying would begin and then it was just a matter of time before things started to fall apart. Even before last orders had been called, parts of Kellston would erupt into booze-fuelled chaos. There’d be the usual brawling, rows and recriminations. Not to mention the human debris sprawled in the gutters. Still, unless something especially bad happened, it wouldn’t be her problem. It made her glad she was no longer in uniform.
She watched as DS Laura Higgs walked across the incident room and perched on the edge of Preston’s desk. Higgs leaned down and said something and Preston glanced towards the office and laughed. Were they talking about her? Even though she’d been doing the job for years – and doing it successfully enough to gain regular promotions – she was aware of not being particularly liked. Respected, hopefully, but not liked. She was the Ice Queen or Blondie or any of a number of other deprecating nicknames that came and went depending on the current mood.
All senior officers had their own style. Some were chummy, one of the lads, but she preferred to keep a professional distance. She knew it made her seem standoffish, even cold, but it was the way she coped with the responsibilities of the job. Being a woman and a blonde meant that she often had to try twice as hard in order to be taken seriously. Occasionally, she would join her team for a drink at the Fox, but she never felt entirely comfortable. It was as if her presence inhibited the natural flow of conversation, creating an atmosphere in which the others couldn’t completely relax.
Laura Higgs stood up and walked towards the office, still grinning from the exchange with Preston. She was a solid, sturdy-looking woman in her early thirties with a round face and short brown hair. Under her arm, she was carrying a folder. She knocked lightly on the door.
‘Come in.’
‘It’s about Finian’s, guv,’ said Higgs, flapping the folder in the air. ‘We might finally have something.’
Valerie nodded. ‘Good.’ She gestured towards the chair on the other side of her desk, and Higgs sat down. The robbery at Finian’s had been a slick professional job, the gang getting away with thousands of pounds’ worth of stock. The small amount of grainy CCTV coverage – acquired before the cameras had been smashed – revealed that five men had been involved, all of them wearing masks. The plates of the dark-coloured van had been obscured. Despite pulling in the usual suspects, they hadn’t yet got a result. The gang had gone to ground and there wasn’t a sniff of the stolen goods.
Laura Higgs put the folder on the desk and flipped it open. ‘I got a couple of names from my snouts, but one’s a definite no-go. Barry Tanner?’
‘He’s inside, isn’t he?’
‘Doing a five-stretch in Pentonville. Been there since August.’
‘And the other one?’
‘Well, this one’s more promising: Jimmy Gold. He’s Ted Gold’s brother.’ Higgs paused, and then added somewhat disdainfully, ‘Oh, Ted Gold used to run the car lot on the high street. He was a bit of a villain, but we never caught him at it. Getaway cars, stolen vehicles, that kind of thing. He retired to Spain a while back.’
Valerie smiled tightly back at her. ‘I’m well aware of that.’ Despite the fact that Valerie had been at Cowan Road for years, Higgs always insisted on treating her as if she’d turned up yesterday. It was one of the reasons she disliked her so much. Another was the fact that the woman was a compulsive gossip. ‘Jimmy’s been clean for ages, hasn’t he?’
‘Well, he hasn’t been charged with anything,’ Higgs said. ‘Maybe he’s just getting smarter in his old age.’
Valerie reached across the desk, retrieved the file and studied the hazy photographs that had been taken off the CCTV. ‘The driver, I presume?’
‘Yeah.’
Valerie continued to stare at the pictures, but there was no way of identifying any of the men. ‘You can’t t
ell a damn thing from these. You couldn’t prove it one way or the other.’
Higgs leaned forward with a smug expression on her face. ‘Except I just heard something interesting from Kevin Wheelan.’
‘Go on.’ Wheelan was a uniformed constable, an older officer who kept his ear to the ground. He’d been in Kellston longer than any of them and had an encyclopaedic knowledge of every villain that frequented the area.
‘He says that he stopped Chris Street’s Mercedes the other day. It jumped a red light, apparently.’
Valerie gave a short laugh. ‘Oh, make my day. Please tell me that he was driving.’ If she had one ambition in her life, it was to nail at least one of the Streets. They ran half the crime in the area, and took a percentage of the other half.
‘Sadly not, but guess who was?’
‘Don’t tell me. Jimmy Gold?’
Higgs shook her head. ‘Not quite.’
‘So who?’
‘His daughter, Ava.’
Valerie frowned. The name didn’t mean anything to her. ‘Has she got form?’
‘Nothing. Wheelan ran a check, but she’s clean. Bit of a coincidence, though, don’t you think? Jimmy’s in the frame for this robbery and his daughter’s driving Chris Street around.’
‘A warehouse robbery, though? That’s not like the Streets.’
‘Times are tough,’ Higgs said. ‘Maybe they’re branching out. And the stock in that place was worth a mint. How about doing a search of Belles or the Lincoln? They could have the gear stashed there.’
Valerie shook her head. ‘We’d never get a warrant, not on that kind of evidence. It’s way too flimsy.’
‘Depends on how you present it,’ said Higgs slyly.
‘Whichever way you present it.’ Valerie liked to do things by the book, straight down the line and no funny business. Other officers were less fussy about how they got their convictions. She knew that if you started bending the rules it wouldn’t be long before you were as corrupt as the villains you were trying to catch.
Higgs, however, wasn’t giving up. ‘But if we wait, guv, they could shift the gear. That’s if they haven’t got rid of it already. It could be halfway across the country by now.’
‘It could be, but then again they might just be sitting tight and waiting for the dust to settle. If we do a search of Belles or the Lincoln and the Streets are involved, they’re going to know we’re on to them. Anyway, I don’t think they’d stash the gear in either of those places. It’s way too risky. It’s more likely they’ve got a lock-up somewhere.’
Higgs wrinkled her nose. ‘What about giving Jimmy Gold a tug?’
‘No, we’ll hold fire for now.’
Higgs pulled a face, her expression as sour as if she was sucking on a lemon.
‘You got a problem, Sergeant?’
‘No, guv.’
‘Good.’ Valerie closed the folder and pushed it back across the desk. ‘Do a bit of digging into this Ava Gold and see what you can find out about her. And let’s check out the security guys at the business park again. It could have been an inside job. Keep me informed, huh?’
‘Yes, guv.’
Higgs picked up the folder and left the office.
Valerie watched through the slats as the sergeant crossed the incident room. She never thought she would say it, but she actually missed her usual right-hand man, Kieran Swann. He might be irritating and provocative, but at least she knew where she stood. It was typical that he’d chosen to take his annual leave just as the Street connection had emerged – although why anyone would choose to holiday in Clacton in November, one of the bleakest months of the calendar year with its short dark days and almost guaranteed bad weather, was beyond her.
She sat back and thought some more about the Streets. They’d been getting away with it for way too long. Perhaps, finally, she would get the opportunity to rid Kellston of the whole damn lot of them.
24
When Ava got back to the flat in Market Square, it was to find Hannah lounging on the sofa reading a copy of Saturday’s Guardian.
‘No Tash?’ asked Ava, looking around.
‘She’s gone to pick up supplies, some ribbon and the like. She won’t be long.’
‘Oh, okay.’ Reluctant to try and make small talk – Hannah was always hard work in that department – Ava headed for the kitchen and put the kettle on even though she’d only just had a coffee in Connolly’s. She’d known Hannah for months, but the two of them had never clicked. Having endured her sniping the previous night, she wasn’t in the mood for another round of verbal sparring.
Unfortunately, Hannah decided to follow her. She stood leaning against the door with her arms folded across her chest. ‘Been anywhere nice?’
‘Just some window shopping,’ said Ava, not wanting to reveal what she’d really been doing. ‘But it’s too cold to hang about out there.’
‘Yes, I popped out for a paper earlier. It is a touch chilly.’
Ava picked up a couple of mugs from the draining board. She had no choice, now that Hannah was almost in the kitchen, but to ask the polite question. ‘I was just making a drink. Would you like one?’
‘Go on, then. Thanks. I’ll have a tea. Lappie, please, no milk or sugar.’
Ava reached into the cupboard for the box of Lapsang Souchong tea bags that was never touched unless Hannah was here. She dropped one of the bags into a mug along with a teaspoon.
‘That’s a lovely sweater,’ Hannah said. ‘The colour really suits you.’
Ava glanced down at the dark red sweater that Hannah must have seen her in twenty times before. What was with the sudden niceness? Perhaps she was feeling bad about last night, regretting that she’d been so rude. ‘Thank you. I got it from the market.’
‘Really? You couldn’t tell.’
Ava smiled and turned back towards the boiling kettle. Somehow, even when Hannah was trying to be nice, it didn’t quite come off. She made the drinks and passed over the tea, hoping that Hannah would retreat into the living room, but no such luck. Instead she sat down at the kitchen table, making it clear that she wanted to chat.
‘So how’s the job going?’
‘Good, thanks,’ replied Ava breezily. She hadn’t mentioned the episode with the gun to Tash. Pillow talk could be a dangerous thing, and she hadn’t wanted to take the risk of it becoming common knowledge. ‘Yours?’
‘Oh, you know, same as.’
Ava didn’t know. What did accountants do all day? She had a mental image of a dusty Dickensian office with rows of identically dressed men totting up figures with quill pens. But things, she presumed, had progressed quite a lot since then.
There was a short silence.
‘Well,’ said Ava, thinking that she might use this opportunity to escape to her bedroom.
She was still standing with her back against the sink. ‘I suppose I’d better get on.’
But Hannah had other ideas. ‘So how long have you and Lydia been friends?’
The question was posed with a casualness that didn’t deceive Ava for a second. Ah, so that was what this was all about. ‘Not long. She only moved here a few months back.’
‘Where was she living before?’
‘I’ve no idea. Why?’
Hannah gave a shrug. ‘I was just curious. Don’t you think she’s a little… I don’t know, evasive?’
‘Is she? I can’t say I’ve noticed.’
‘Yes. It’s hard to get a straight answer out of the girl.’ Hannah paused as if waiting for Ava to respond, but when she didn’t she carried on regardless. ‘The minute I started asking her about herself, where she came from, if she had a partner or not, she completely clammed up. I could hardly get a word out of her.’
‘Maybe she’s just shy.’
‘She doesn’t give that impression.’
‘Private, then. Perhaps she doesn’t like talking about herself.’
Hannah gave a small dismissive shake of her head as if this explanation didn’t wash. ‘No, I
don’t think so. I reckon there’s more to it.’
‘Such as?’
Hannah didn’t answer directly. ‘And working in that place, that taxidermy shop. That’s weird, don’t you think? I mean, what sort of person wants to be surrounded by dead animals all day?’
‘It’s a job,’ Ava said with a touch of impatience. Hannah, with her colossal salary and high-flying position in the City, didn’t have a clue when it came to how the other half lived. ‘People can’t afford to be fussy when they’ve got bills to pay.’
