by Linda Coles
“And if that is the case, it’ll be almost impossible to find. Whatever it is. That’s the whole point of it – that much this luddite does know.” He pointed to his chest with his thumb.
While he was useless with gadgets, particularly coffee machine gadgets, Jack did keep abreast of what was out there security- and crime-wise. He just couldn’t make it work for himself. Amanda conceded that he was right. They needed to find out what they could the old-fashioned way and then enlist the help of the cyber team with their more specialist knowledge. And tactics.
And she could chat to Ruth if she needed to. She knew everything about everything tech.
Later that evening over dinner with Ruth, Amanda broached the subject of the dark web.
“Can someone simply stumble across something strange, say a hit man for hire?”
“No, not really. You still have to search for what you want. Why? Thinking of knocking me off once we get married? For my millions?” Ruth grinned at her.
“No, just curious. The dark web is not somewhere I hang out, so I don’t know how it works, really. I leave that to the cyber guys.”
“And girls.”
“Eh? Oh yes, and girls. Sorry, Miss Tech-head.”
“Apology accepted. What is it you really want to know about?” Not much got past Ruth’s bullshit antennae.
“Look, I can’t tell you details, but it’s to do with Steph’s revelation about her hair being chopped off and the more recent woman. Since we’ve no clue what we are looking at, I thought it may be something deeper. And darker, perhaps. Like on the dark web.”
“Well, aren’t your cyber team helping?”
“Not yet, no. Nothing to go on to get them involved. Just my mind working scenarios. Or scenario, actually, I haven’t got another.”
“Well, the answer is still the same. You need to search for it and there’s the clue – search. The dark web is just a list of un-indexed pages, and they’re not all peddling weird stuff. You’ll find legitimate sites too. Anyone can look, but users make themselves anonymous by using a TOR browser, which encrypts and pings around a whole bunch of servers around the world so their IP address can’t be traced back to them. Simple to do but it also makes it hard to find those who peddle stuff they really shouldn’t be. Like child pornography, drugs, and, yes, hit men. And hit women.”
Amanda smiled at that one.
“Look,” said Ruth, “I’ll give you a demo when we’ve finished, open your eyes a little.”
Amanda wasn’t sure if she liked that idea or not. You can’t un-see something, she knew, and who knew what she might find.
“Don’t look so scared. We won’t be going to those types of pages – what do you take me for? And until you start clicking on dodgy images or videos, or interacting in something illegal, you’ll be as safe as on the regular web, maybe even safer. Now eat up and I’ll show you.”
Amanda was about to have a lesson on what others do for kicks in their spare time.
Chapter Thirty-One
Griffin and Vee had started seeing a little more of each other, though there was nothing official about it. Since Vee had caught up with him a few evenings ago and solved the puzzle of his knotted ear buds, they’d caught the train together to and from work on several occasions. And even though it interfered with his practiced routine, his morning one in particular, Griffin had found himself able to relax about it a little. To his surprise, he hadn’t stressed about it as much as he once would have. And that was because he was enjoying her company, her lively but not overbearing chatter, her forwardness and the warm breeze she brought into his otherwise still and functional world. He’d found himself thinking of her at all times of the day – while he waited for sleep to come, while he waited for the kettle to boil and while he finished his steps off for the day. Not in a sexual way; more of a ‘not-really-sure-why-I’m-thinking-about-you-all-the-time-but-I-am’ kind of way. Did that even make sense? He enjoyed her company, fair and simple. The thought occurred to him that maybe there might be other parts of his routine he could break out of if it brought him the kind of enjoyment that Vee had shown him. And he’d quite like to take her out to the pub, but did he have the courage to ask her? And then what? If they got on well and they carried on seeing one another, there would eventually come a time that she’d want more, expect it, even.
‘More’ included her seeing him naked, and that he wouldn’t do at all. Not yet.
He placed his breakfast crockery in the dishwasher, switched it on for a low wash and headed for the train. He was fifteen minutes later than he had been with his routine of recent, but it meant they could ride together. He picked up his pace as the station came into view. And the rear of Vee. Smiling to himself, he wondered what she was listening to as she walked; her ear bud wires just visible, resting on her shoulder. If he called out to her, she’d never hear him, and Griffin didn’t have the confidence to do that anyway. So, he watched her from the comfort of twenty paces away, knowing she’d be stood on the same platform as he would be in a few moments. And that comforted him somewhere deep inside.
She spotted him as soon as she turned into the entranceway.
“Morning, Griffin.” Her smile was as bright as a daisy drinking in the summer sun, and just as pretty.
“Morning, Vee.” While he smiled in greeting, he couldn’t compete with her confident way, and looked more like a cheap chrysanthemum that had been far too long in its cellophane flute on a garage forecourt. He did his best anyhow.
“I fancy a coffee. Want one?” She looked up at him expectantly. “I’m buying.”
He hesitated.
“No?”
“I usually drink tea.”
But not until I get to the office.
“Can I get you a tea, then?” The daisy-like smile glowed again. How could he not? He checked his watch for the impending train. Some habits were harder to break.
“Great, thanks. I’ll come over with you,” he said, and they both made their way to the coffee cart along the platform. A couple of minutes later, they had their drinks. When the faint throb of the approaching train could be felt, they stood where Griffin usually stood in the hope of getting a couple of seats together, though the later train time had proved a bit more difficult to manage. Still, they each had their music for the short journey, and they were together at least. As the train pulled up in front of them, they could both see they were out of luck. Vee looked up at Griffin and screwed her face up in disappointment as the people ahead of them crowded into the carriage, taking the last remaining single seats. Standing for the journey wasn’t really a problem, but conversation was almost impossible with other people’s faces only a few inches from their own. It meant those close by heard every word, and that made it embarrassing to have a conversation for just about everyone. Travelling on a morning commuter train was not too dissimilar to travelling in a stock truck, though rather than being nose to tail, morning travellers were nose to nose. It was only marginally more pleasurable. Some people really needed to attend the dental hygienist a little more regularly.
With their ear buds firmly in place, they stuck it out until they reached London Victoria, Griffin with Gershwin, Vee with Sia, each in their own world thinking their own thoughts. Vee glanced at Griffin but he didn’t notice, lost in the sound of piano keys as Gershwin reached a crescendo. When the track changed he looked up from watching the floor and caught her eye. She took her buds out and he followed suit, aware she was going to speak. What was she going to say in a place where she could be overheard?
“Fancy a drink straight from work?”
Griffin couldn’t believe his ears. How could she be so brazen, so confident and so forward? And in such close confines, too? He stood there, stunned, like a mackerel ready for the pan. He hadn’t been prepared for such a direct question and at first wasn’t sure what to say. He knew what he wanted to say, but here? With all these people listening? He flicked from her face to the stranger’s face a few inches away and back to Vee. As
he stood with his mouth open slightly, hoping the appropriate words would somehow fall out, she prodded him.
“Well? Yes or no to a lager?” At least she was smiling – in amusement? The stranger caught his eye and nodded ever so slightly, he too prodding him to answer Vee’s question. Griffin fumbled and mumbled, but eventually released a coherent answer.
“Yes. I’d like that.” He breathed a heavy sigh as he relaxed, his anguish passing over and leaving his chest as it drifted off down the carriage and out of an open window. The stranger gave him a half smile, a ‘well done,’ like a teacher dishing out a red star to a good student.
“Great! Do you know The Baskerville? It’s not far from my road. Why don’t we meet there at, say, seven pm? Will that give you enough time to do whatever you need to do beforehand?”
His steps. He did a quick calculation in his head; he’d have to walk faster if he was going to make it. There was no way he could do less.
“Can we make it seven fifteen? That would be better. So I’m not late.”
“Seven fifteen pm it is.”
Griffin couldn’t believe what he’d just agreed to, and so publicly. What would the strangers be thinking of him? Were they thinking anything? They all knew where he’d be tonight at 7.15 pm and who with. Did that matter? Thoughts bumped around inside his head as the carriage doors opened and strangers flooded out onto the platform and forward, each on their own way to work. As Griffin was swept along with them, he felt a small hand find his and slot itself in. It was Vee’s. And it felt comfortable. He glanced down but she didn’t glance up, and didn’t take her hand away either. And neither did Griffin.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Griffin couldn’t help the bats fighting in his stomach. At 6.30 pm, he stood in the shower letting the warm water cascade over him as he contemplated the evening ahead. A bat thumped him with its wing from the inside as he opened the shower gel to wash away the day’s grime. Pine forests filled the cubicle as his thoughts darted back to the evening ahead. Normally, he’d shower and surf after dinner, the end of his normal day of work, walk and web. That’s how it was, always had been for as long as he could remember, but then Vee had come along and things had started to move, to change. First his morning commute, now an evening out. What would be next? Soap bubbles slid down his naked body as he washed half-heartedly, not really concentrating on what he was doing, until his thoughts jolted back to his problem.
Soon.
He’d learned to keep it in perspective, to tell himself that it would be dealt with soon enough.
Just as soon as he’d found the right person at the right price.
He grabbed the loofah and scrubbed his body all over, the rough surface sending a tingling over all that it touched. By the time he was completely washed, his skin glowed like light sunburn and felt cleansed. The rest of his routine was much the same as every day, though tonight he dressed in clean jeans and another hoody instead of his normal pyjamas. A splash of aftershave and he was ready to go.
‘It is just drinks, for heaven’s sake. Get a grip,’ he told himself repeatedly on the walk over. “Nothing to be worried about.” But he didn’t feel relaxed; he felt exactly the opposite.
Vee was already inside chatting to the barman when he opened the front door of The Baskerville, and he took the opportunity to stand in the doorway and take another deep breath to steady himself. From his vantage point, and knowing she hadn’t seen him arrive yet, he appraised her from top to bottom. Deep red Doc Martens on her feet, an obviously vintage floral dress that totally suited her and an aura about her that spoke volumes about her relaxed and rather lovely disposition. He dragged some courage up from his own boots and stepped forward to greet her. He opened with a well-planned-out ‘Hi,’ and hoped he’d figure the rest out from there.
“Hey! Hi yourself. You smell nice. Sort of like a forest.” Her smile was as bright as it had been earlier that morning, and he found himself relaxing as she beamed up at him. Deep red lips and dancing eyes caught his attention. She looked even more striking than she had that morning. “What can I get you to drink?”
Finding his voice, he said, “I’ll get these. You bought tea this morning. It’s my turn. What would you like?”
“In that case, I’ll have a Snakebite, please.”
Griffin looked at the barman, who raised his eyebrows and nodded that he’d heard the lady. “Make that two, then,” he added. He was not a big drinker; he’d see if he liked the taste and go back to his normal slimline tonic if not. He didn’t want to appear a party pooper on their first outing. He wasn’t calling it a date; it was just drinks. That was how he was reconciling it in his head to keep the fighting bats quiet.
“I’ll bring them over. Pints or halves?” asked the barman. In unison they both said the opposite to each other.
“Pints,” said Vee.
“Halves,” said Griffin. It broke the ice and they both burst out laughing at themselves, and at the complete reversal of the norm.
Men drank pints, didn’t they? No, not this one.
The barman understood and busied himself with their order as Vee led the way to a table on the far side of the pub, away from the rest of the customers dotted about, some nursing a pint solemnly, some giggling over wine.
“So,” she started, “why don’t you tell me a bit more about yourself. All I know is that you’re a sports reporter and where you live. Then I’ll tell you about me if you like.”
Griffin wondered if she was always so forward or if it was just with him because he was reserved in his ways. And where the hell should he start? He looked aghast at the prospect but relented; they had to start somewhere. Or sit in near silence. Taking a deep breath, he began, the words tumbling out like the passengers on their commuter train did at Victoria.
“Griffin Stokes. Twenty-five. Lived around here all my life. Single, a self-confessed nerd. Used to be into gaming but no more, and I walk daily. I like a wide range of music, eat healthily but never used to and have lost about twelve stone; still another one stone to go. Oh, and I’m an only child. I think that’s about it. Your turn.” Phew.
Vee smiled her usual bright smile and Griffin wondered what was going through her mind at that precise moment – good or bad? He hoped it was good.
“Vera Dobbs, but my friends call me Vee. Twenty-five, same as you, about a foot shorter than you at five-foot-four, can be a bit of a geek at times, spend too much time on Facebook, wondered about going vegan but like my bacon too much, two sisters and love the movies. Oh, and I quite like gardening, not that we have much of a garden at home, which, yes, I still share with my parents.” She’d mentioned before that she still lived at home and he raised his eyebrows inadvertently. Vee raised her own in reply.
“What?” she asked. “Plenty of people still live at home at twenty-five. I can’t afford to move out yet; not around here, anyway.” The arrival of their drinks halted the conversation, giving Griffin time to make amends for his slip-up.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”
“You didn’t. And I’m not embarrassed. I’m saving hard to get my own flat, but until then, home it is. It won’t be for much longer, anyway. I’ve nearly got a deposit together.” She took a long gulp of her Snakebite and looked at Griffin expectantly for his response.
“That’s great. It’s hard saving up a big chunk of cash; I’ve done it myself. And I’m doing it again.” Griffin realized his error as soon as the words had left his mouth and quickly added a question. hoping to deflect attention away from his comment. “Where will you buy? Something local or further out?” It was an opportune time to taste his Snakebite, leaving her to answer the last question. He hoped.
“Ideally. It’s handy for work and I’ll still be local to my family, so yes. Just got to find the right place at the right price. What’s the Snakebite like? To your taste?”
His tactic had worked. She’d missed his slip. Or hadn’t mentioned it, at any rate. “Not bad. It’ll grow on me.”
/> Grinning, she said, “Maybe if you’ve nothing better to do this weekend, you could help me find a place? There’s a couple I want to look at.” Vee was looking at him across the top of her pint glass, a sly smile on her deep red lips. He watched, somewhat mesmerized, as her top lip vanished into the glass to meet the amber liquid.
“I’d love to.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Joshua and Jasper were upstairs in their room, tucked up in bed reading with their flashlights. Stephanie had turned a blind eye to their refusal to go straight to sleep, knowing full well they were tired out and it wouldn’t be long before they were asleep anyway. And reading a book was a useful hobby to have, far better than playing with a screen just before sleep. Feeling like an early night herself, she watched bubbles gather on the surface of the milk she was warming in a pan for a mug of Horlicks to soothe her nerves. She hoped the malty drink would help; in the absence of wine, it would have to do. Since she’d told Ruth about losing her hair that day, she’d not thought about much else.
Losing her mind, more like.
Why had she said anything, raked it all back up again? It had been years ago, long before she’d married and had a family, and since she’d been out having a good time that had then ended up with her in bed with a man, there had been no point in reporting it. They’d both partied hard, she’d gone to his room and the rest had, well, happened. What she hadn’t expected the next morning when she had awakened, though, were the tiny nicks on the backs of her thighs, the kind made by a knife, and her beloved long dark hair gone, leaving nothing more than a short basin cut.
While her missing hair and the mysterious nicks had been a shock, it was how those things had happened at all that had alarmed her. Yes, she had partied hard and downed shots as well as copious amounts of wine, but she never touched substances, not even the odd joint. The only way what had happened to her could have happened was if she’d been drugged.
