“Fucking fucker!” Kate yelled.
Helen pushed the passenger seat back and tried to contain her laughter as she slipped off her big coat to make her escape. Kate was fishing into her pockets with her free hand, trying to find her handcuff key, while Helen made her way into the back seats and out through the passenger door behind her.
“No key?” Helen asked with a laugh as she straightened her clothes.
“I can’t fucking find it.”
“I know where you can borrow one from. But it’ll cost you,” Helen shut the back door carefully to stand just out of Kate’s grasp should she try and grab her.
Kate thumped the steering wheel with her free hand and sighed loudly. “What?”
Helen smiled, toying with her a little longer. “Lunch, for starters.”
“Fine,” Kate said as she blew out a long breath.
Helen pulled the key from her pocket. “Here!” She tossed it to Kate, who wore an anxious expression as she tried to catch it with her free hand across her body.
Helen sauntered off into the pub, leaving Kate to fumble with the key.
“You do realise I’m not just here to supplement your expense account,” Kate said three minutes later as she tossed the handcuff key across the wooden table where Helen sat inside the pub.
“Of course. You’re here to drive me around and come up with inspirational ideas too.”
Kate sniggered. “No, no, inspirational ideas are way above my rank.”
“And mine.”
Two tall glasses of Coke were deposited on their table.
“Thanks,” Kate said before taking a long drink.
Helen waited for the waitress to walk away before saying, “I called Davies while you were larking about.” She waited for Kate to meet her eyes. “He’s texting me Sandy’s old address so we can take a look before we drive back.”
Kate grunted her acknowledgement.
“And I’ve ordered you lasagne and chips.”
Kate’s face brightened. “Really?”
Helen nodded and sipped her drink.
“Perfect!”
It didn’t take much to make Kate happy. What intrigued her more was how content it made her that Kate was happy. She was just a colleague, wasn’t she? Although she couldn’t ever recall trading such charged comments with anyone else she’d worked with before, let alone someone she’d been intimate with. This woman had stormed her once-quiet police station, forcing her to feel things she hadn’t considered in some time. Yet it was only a temporary situation. A dampening disappointment filled her stomach. She had a feeling Kate Wolfe would be quite the person to know on a personal level, away from work.
But not for her.
Chapter 9
“Morning, Guv.” She had knocked on Helen’s door as soon as possible after making her customary cup of tea. She needed it this morning; her eyes were sore from all the hours watching the CCTV recordings. Thankfully, the time had paid off, or at least she hoped it had. Trawling through endless hours of the footage of Doreen Platt’s back garden had provided a couple of incidents of a figure moving back and forth through the end of the garden and heading towards the burned-out house—the first two days before the fire and the last about an hour before the fire was reported. It had to be their firebug. Who else would be creeping about out there after midnight?
So she’d taken the initiative employing her skills to help identify their skulking figure. Although it had proven a lengthy process, they now had an image of a suspect, albeit slightly blurry.
Helen looked to be already deep in work with papers scattered across her desk as she scrutinised her computer screen. But she looked up and nodded. “Morning, Virginia.”
She’d given up trying to beat Helen into work, resigned to the fact that she would always be second to arrive.
“Is that a fresh cup of tea you have there?” Helen asked.
“It is. Would you like it?” They drank it the same way, a little milk, no sugar.
“Sure you can you spare it? You look tired.”
Taking a deep breath before walking around to Helen’s side of the desk, she held out her hand and offered Helen her mug. “Well, I might have something on the Platt CCTV from the back of her house.” That should explain her tiredness.
“Really?” Helen took a sip of her newly acquired tea and smiled over the top of her cup. “You’ve been busy.”
“It’s a little blurry still, due to the quality of the original footage, but I used a computer enhancement programme to clean up the image. At least it’s something. I figured, with your knowledge of the locals, you’ll probably know his inside leg measurement at the very least,” she quipped, recalling Helen’s familiarity with Slim Jim’s shoe size.
A sparkle danced in Helen’s eyes. It was impossible not to be engulfed by it. She was close enough to touch her. If she had reached out a hand, she could have felt her firm thigh before it disappeared under her desk.
Standing abruptly, Helen had a slight height advantage over her even as she leaned on Helen’s desk. She wondered whether Helen would have answered the challenge in her eyes if the cup hadn’t occupied her hands. Either way, the arrival of another officer in the outer office prevented any further thought on the subject.
Helen raised an eyebrow. “Let’s see this work of CCTV art, then, shall we? Oh, and by the way, Forensics says it looks like the security footage from the Jarvis house has been wiped from the server.”
Kate led the way to her desk in the open-plan office, taking her seat she grasped the mouse clicking on the image she’d uploaded earlier. “Shit!” She met Helen’s gaze. “Do they know if it was done from the house or remotely?”
“They’re still working on it, apparently.” Helen frowned as she looked down at her. “I didn’t realise you were such a tech geek.”
She returned her attention to the screen. “Ah, well, that’ll be my hidden depths, Guv.”
Clicking on the small picture icon, it took a couple of seconds for the image to flash up on the screen. With fresh eyes, she found herself a bit disappointed; she remembered the image being more impressive than it seemed now. For a moment, she thought she’d gone too far, built this up too much. She turned to see a slightly flummoxed-looking Helen before her expression changed to thoughtful as she stared at the computer screen.
She shook it off, returning her attention to the image on her screen. It was dark, but there were lines of definition outlining the face and its features. She was genuinely hopeful. “This guy was caught at the back walking towards the house shortly before the fire was reported. So, the question is, do you recognise him?”
Helen squinted at the fuzzy image. “Erm…he looks a bit like one of the Whiting lads off the Sanford estate.”
“The Sanford estate? Is that the same estate Arthur Goode was referring to?”
The crash of a door opening against a wall with force drew both of their attentions away from the screen.
“He copped a fucking plea!” the uniformed officer announced, realising he had the attention of everyone in the office.
She looked up, seeing Helen’s raised eyebrow. She wasn’t sure if it was for the officer’s swearing or something else.
“Johnson?” Helen asked.
“Yep!” the officer said with an equal amount of glee.
“Yes!” Helen threw her hands in the air.
She’d never seen Helen quite so animated, not even when they’d argued. She waited until the officer had disappeared out of sight, and on hearing him pass on his mirth to another colleague nearby, she asked the burning question, “Who’s Johnson?”
“Anthony Johnson. He’s a plasterer from Leeds who assaulted a former police officer from this station. Now she won’t have to go through a court case, and I won’t have to testify against the prick.”
“Pub later?” PC Davies
said as he passed.
“Absolutely,” Helen stated matter-of-factly before leaning on Kate’s desk to scrutinise the image on the screen.
She felt the warmth from Helen’s arm as she leaned close to her. Reaching to grab a pen, she brushed her arm against Helen’s, relishing the spark that flowed through her body.
Helen cleared her throat. “There are three Whiting lads: Curtis, Kyle, and Dominic. There’s only a year or two between each one, which makes them quite hard to tell apart sometimes, especially in the dark.” She scribbled a note of the names to check out on the database. “They’ve been in trouble for minor stuff, mainly drinking, fighting, car theft. Get Uniform to check out their whereabouts recently.”
“Yes, Guv.” She knew she could at least cross-check their arrest photos against her scrubbed-up image.
“Okay.” Helen stood to her full height, holding out her left hand as she listed off jobs. “We need to speak to some of Sandy’s old co-workers, if they’re still around. Chase up Nicholls, see if he’s got anything else for us yet, and I’ll call the crime scene techs, see if there’s anything more on the Jarvis house.”
She twisted her lips as she thought of Dr Nicholls and his maggot tests, and swiftly changed the subject. “I’ve located one or two, but unfortunately a lot of them have either moved on or passed away now. I’ve still got a couple more to check up on.”
“Okay. Let me know when we have solid contacts on people to interview.”
“Yes, Guv.”
Helen disappeared back into her office, leaving her to search for her missing County Biscuit employees. It didn’t take long as her methods were a little less…orthodox when compared to those of her colleagues, no doubt. Being a computer geek had its rewards.
“Any luck?” Helen asked, when she approached her desk half an hour later.
“I found Sandy’s secretary from back in the day, and the bonus is her husband also worked there, in the marketing department. It’s how they met, apparently. They live just outside Sheffield.” A quick route-check had told her it was at least an hour’s drive. She was looking forward to another road trip with Helen.
“Great work. You’ll have to take Davies with you. I need to update Superintendent Scott,” Helen replied. Was that a hint of disappointment in her tone?
“Oh. Well, it won’t be as much fun locking him in the car while I tuck into my delicious pub lunch.”
“You don’t really think you’d get away with that, do you? I’ve got your number, Virginia.” Helen replied with a wide smile.
“I bet you do,” she responded in a low tone, testing Helen’s resistance. She held Helen’s gaze as she waited for a witty retort.
The seconds dragged as Helen failed to respond to her salacious comment, the sound of Davies’s loud, sing-song voice in the outer office released her of that burden.
With the moment gone, she looked down at the sheet of paper in her hands, skimming over the addresses of Sandy’s ex-colleagues.
“I could interview them over the phone, save the petrol.”
“No. It’s generally harder to lie to the police when you’re sat right in front of them. Most work places have a gossip network; we need to find a way to tap into it. It’s also a long time ago, so we can’t take any chances with anyone we find.”
The weight of the case rested on her shoulders, and she realised suddenly how unsuited she was for these delicate interviews. This was Helen’s territory. “Are you sure you don’t want to do it?”
Helen looked at her, clearly amused by her discomfort. “You’ll do fine,” she said, then quickly amended her statement. “Just don’t get angry.”
“Yes, Guv.”
“Or frustrated.”
“Yes, Guv.”
“Or stab the doorbell like a demented woodpecker.”
“Yes, Guv,” she said, deploying a wink as she turned to leave the room.
The Plume and Feathers pub was boisterous when Helen arrived. The large screen showing football dominated the front bar. She recognised several locals as she strolled through to the back lounge. She spotted Kate talking to PC Davies as she made her way to the bar, offering her a warm smile as Kate raised her half-full glass in her direction. The sexual tension between them had been threatening to boil over in the last few days, so she was relieved to have been called into a progress meeting with Grace. Leaving Kate to her own devices was a risk, considering her recent behaviour, but she hoped Davies’s calming influence had had its desired effect. She knew she was playing with fire with Kate, but she couldn’t help herself. Despite their differences, she enjoyed every moment she spent in her company.
After slipping the barman some cash to cover at least one round of drinks, she turned, sipping her red wine as she faced her fellow officers.
Her gaze lingered on Kate a little too long as she traced the outline of her figure. Her mind drifted to the thought of what it might feel like to do the same thing with her hands. She recalled Kate’s comment about her hidden depths and swallowed hard. Oh, how she wanted to know all of Kate’s hidden depths in detail.
She mentally scolded herself for inquiring after her sergeant’s well-being after seeing her fatigued state. What she got up to in her spare time was nothing to do with her. Yet she did care. It mattered to her that Kate was okay. She had never worked with anyone for such a short time that she’d developed such strong feelings for. It worried her. That was the whole reason that relationships with colleagues were frowned upon, but at the same time she had no idea of how to deal with the issue without drawing attention to it.
As the boisterous crowd parted, giving her a view of Kate, familiar stirrings settled low in her belly. She found it difficult to drag her gaze away, even as Davies, next to Helen, appeared to be trying to show her pictures of his recently born niece. Helen glanced at the image of a plump newborn, making the appropriate noises as she kept one eye on Kate, who was quickly flanked by several more officers, clearly passing judgement on today’s courtroom events. Helen wanted to go across and talk to her, even if it was only to inquire about the information she had gained from her interviews with Sandy’s old colleagues.
Helen quickly zoned out of the conversations going on around her as she focused her attention on Kate once again. Davies had been replaced by Sergeant Terry Kirk, who was giving Kate far too much attention as the evening dragged on. Helen had never been a big socialiser; even in Manchester she had often left gatherings, preferring to celebrate successful case closures with a glass of wine at home, alone.
She gripped her glass a little tighter as Kirk’s hand dropped dangerously close to Kate’s backside. Kate quickly grabbed for the offending hand, gripping it as she spoke calmly close to his ear. Helen was instantly amused. Whatever she had said, it apparently had the desired effect. Kirk walked away with a sneer plastered on his face.
“How are you getting home?” Helen asked as she placed her empty glass on the table next to Kate’s.
“Who knows?” Kate replied in slightly slurred speech.
Having already witnessed the scene with Terry, Helen wanted to make sure he didn’t get his way, although, considering Kate’s rebuff earlier, that wasn’t likely to be the case. Deciding to do the right thing, she pulled out her phone to call a local taxi.
“What’s your address, Virginia?” she asked as she held the phone away from her face.
Kate narrowed her eyes at her as she mumbled her answer before finishing her drink.
“Come on, let’s get some fresh air while we wait for your taxi.” Helen steered Kate as best she could down the steps and into the front beer garden, heading towards a picnic bench in a darkened area. From that position, they had a good view of the road.
The cool air must have been a shock to Kate’s system. She wrapped her arms around her body. “Do you need a taxi too?” She took a seat on the outside edge of the wooden picnic bench.
“No. I live just over there.” Helen pointed to the dark road almost opposite the pub that led to her hidden-away home. She took a seat next to Kate, aware of her close proximity to Kate’s thighs as they jiggled a little in the cold air.
“Where?” Kate squinted across the road and into the blackness where Helen had pointed.
She looked at Kate, smiling at her confusion. “You can’t see it from here.”
“Are you as drunk as I am?” Kate asked as her eyes squinted to adjust to her new surroundings.
“No. I don’t think so.”
“Why am I so drunk?”
“I’m guessing you skipped lunch again. Plus, Terry’s been buying you doubles in the hope of getting a grope of the new girl.” Helen fiddled with her phone in her hands to give them something to do.
Kate suddenly turned to look at Helen.
“Oh! Oooh! That dirty bastard tried to touch me up earlier.”
“I saw that,” Helen said with a laugh, although she had actually wanted to drag Kirk out to the car park and pummel him at the time.
“I don’t like the way his face whistles when he speaks. Maybe I should arrest him.”
“For whistling?” Helen questioned, trying to hide the amusement from her voice.
“No. For being an obnoxious prick!”
Helen laughed out loud. Kate certainly had a way of hitting the nail on the head.
Kate shivered, her hands clamped between her thighs as she continued. “He called me ‘virgin’. Said he wanted to pop my cherry.”
She turned to look at Kate’s profile and then looked out towards the road. She realised how much she’d missed spending the day with her, regardless of the consequences. “God, I should arrest him for that kind of talk.” Although she made light of it, she planned to have a quiet word in Sergeant Kirk’s ear regarding his conduct with female colleagues.
“Were you watching me?”
Helen thought there was a little more confidence in Kate’s voice. She ignored the question, deciding to reply with a question of her own. “What exactly did you say to him?” The look of pain on Kirk’s face had certainly been memorable.
Payback Page 10
