Hard Truth

by Jay Gill

  Cotton pushed past and left the two men laughing as though she’d just paid them some kind of compliment. Dave had moved outside to the pub’s garden. His mobile phone was pressed to his ear. He was deep in conversation. She had little doubt who he was talking to. She had ideas about who she was. Cotton’s fury reached a whole new level. It was time to get the truth out of Dave. As much as she didn’t want to hear it, she knew she had to.

  Cotton slammed the drinks down on the table. As she did this, she felt a hand on her backside. Cotton turned to see Johnster with a ridiculous grin on his face.

  “Wow, you’re persistent, aren’t you? And clearly more stupid than I thought,” said Cotton. “Does the local circus know one of their clowns has escaped? You did hear me say no, didn’t you?”

  Johnster smiled, “I did, but I thought – ”

  Cotton stepped close and swiftly raised her knee to connect with Johnster’s balls. As he doubled over in agony, she raised her elbow so it connected with his nose. Blood gushed down his face. Stepping behind him, she lifted her foot and launched him forward. The top of his head caught the edge of the table, where he crashed to the floor. The two drinks she had just placed on the table toppled and spilt over his neck and shoulders.

  Scotty appeared beside Emma and looked down at his friend. “Hey, what the hell’s the matter with you?”

  He reached out to grab her, but Cotton took his hand and with one smooth movement twisted his arm up and behind his back. The surprised Scotty yelped and groaned.

  Cotton whispered in Scotty’s ear, “Are you going to behave?”

  Scotty nodded. “Yes, yes! You’re hurting me.”

  Cotton released the pressure on Scotty’s arm and said, “Is that my phone ringing? Can either of you morons hear a mobile phone?” She let go of Scotty’s arm and, keeping an eye on the two men, reached into her back pocket and pulled out her mobile phone. She swiped a finger across the phone to take the call and said, “Detective Inspector Emma Cotton speaking.”

  Scotty and Johnster looked at each other in dismay. “Shit,” muttered Scotty as he massaged his shoulder.

  Cotton heard the voice of her boss, Detective Superintendent Calvin Etheridge. She listened and then said, “Yes, sir, I understand. I’ll be there. First thing in the morning.”

  Cotton turned off her phone and coolly slid it back into her pocket, then turned back to Johnster and Scotty.

  “You know I can’t just let your Neanderthal-like behaviour pass, don’t you? While we wait for the landlord to call for a police officer to take statements, which one of you two is going to apologise first? You also owe me two new drinks.”

  Chapter Four

  Kelly Lyle pulled her jacket close. It would take a day or two to readjust to the British climate. The greyness made her shudder. She stood at the window and watched the tide returning along Sandbanks Beach. In contrast to Italy, the sea here was slate grey. It would eventually turn a crystal blue, but for two days there had been unseasonably lousy weather with rain and high winds. Out at sea there had been storms, and debris was scattered along the beach. A spot of rain hit the window. The forecast for the next few days looked grim, and further storms were expected along the south coast.

  The Sandbanks peninsula has the largest concentration of expensive properties outside London, and though she was trying to hide it, the property agent’s voice sounded excited.

  “You must have a guardian angel. You couldn’t have timed it better; this property only became available this morning.”

  Lyle thumbed the business card to remind herself of the agent’s name. She had picked up the false sense of authority in the woman’s voice and found it endearing.

  When Lyle didn’t respond the agent added, “It’s dramatic, isn’t it? Such an amazing position. Personally, I love watching the storms. My favourite time is at night. Lightning strikes over the ocean at night look so dramatic. And the thunder crashing all around, so loudly it rocks your whole body. Nights like those can make me feel so insignificant. Vulnerable.”

  Lyle smiled and turned to the young woman. “You’re a romantic, Sienna,” said Lyle.

  Sienna blushed. “No one has said that about me before.” Lyle tucked a strand of Sienna’s short hair behind her ear. She stroked her cheek tenderly and gazed into her eyes. “You’re also incredibly beautiful. What I wouldn’t give to have your youth.”

  Sienna was unsure how to respond. She hadn’t been hit on by a woman before. Is that what was happening here? She wasn’t sure where to look. Her heart was beating hard in her chest. Her mouth felt dry. Was it wrong that she was enjoying the attention?

  Picking up the file containing the property details, Sienna said, “Do you like it? The house, I mean?”

  “I do. It’s perfect. I’ll pay the asking price, in cash.”

  “Really? That’s wonderful news.” Sienna passed her a business card. “If we go back to the office I can…”

  “Actually, I’d like to stipulate one condition,” added Lyle. “You must have dinner with me tonight. I have a reservation at Rick Stein’s restaurant. You can tell me more about the area I’ll be living in, and I’d like the opportunity to find out more about you, Miss Sienna Lasota.”

  Without giving herself time to make excuses, Sienna said, “Yes, I’d like that.”

  Lyle held Sienna’s small chin and gave her a tender kiss. “I’ll see you at eight. Unfortunately, I’ve got to go. I’m running late for another appointment. I’ll be moving in here immediately, no matter the cost. Bring whatever paperwork needs signing with you tonight.” Lyle wrote a telephone number down on the business card. “This is the number of my accountant. He’ll handle the financial arrangements. I need you to make sure it happens this week. Can you do that for me?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “I know you will. I can see there is more to you than meets the eye. Underneath that beautiful exterior is a strong and determined young woman. I see that you just need to believe it.” Lyle opened her purse and took out an envelope, which she handed to Sienna. “It’s close to a thousand pounds. Buy yourself something stunning for tonight. Expensive clothes and shoes will give you confidence. I’ll see you tonight.”

  Chapter Five

  Kelly Lyle pulled the car onto the hard shoulder and turned on the hazard lights. She climbed out and looked over the bridge to the Fleetsbridge roundabout below.

  It was a perfect spot, viewers on all sides. The evening rush-hour traffic was building, and as the cars sat nose to tail, waiting for the traffic lights to change, the audience below would get front row seats.

  Behind her, cars flew past, paying little attention to the parked vehicle. Why should they? She’d spent good money to have the car look like a paramedic’s rapid response vehicle.

  She straightened the Batgirl mask she had put on, took a selfie and opened the back of the car. The young couple on the back seat began moaning and crying hysterically. Their hands were tied behind their backs, and over their heads they wore hoods.

  “I’ll be back to let you go in few minutes,” promised Lyle.

  Lyle pulled out two lengths of rope and a set of steps. Next, she pulled out a vinyl banner and fastened it to the railing before pushing it over the side to reveal the message.

  Almost immediately, the first car honked its horn. Behind the mask, Lyle smiled to herself.

  Closing the rear door and opening the side door, she helped the young couple out. Lyle could feel them trembling.

  “Justin, sit there. Rachel, you sit down next to him.” Obediently, they crouched below the railing.

  “Please let us go. We won’t tell anyone. Just let us go,” pleaded Rachel. “We haven’t seen your face; you can just let us go. We’re wearing hoods. We can’t see anything.”

  Lyle ignored her and opened up the steps. She tied two lengths of rope to the railing.

  “Let us go, you freak,” yelled Justin.

  Lyle pressed two fingers into the back of his head.


  “Don’t shoot me. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that, but you’ve got to let us go.”

  “That earns you the opportunity of going first. Take my hand, Justin. If you don’t, I’ll shoot you in the head right here and now.”

  Lyle didn’t have a gun, but Justin didn’t know that. Slowly he got to his feet.

  “Do as I say, and I’ll let you both go. Put this on. It’s for your safety,” lied Lyle.

  Lyle dropped a noose around his neck.

  “Now, climb three small steps. You do that for me, and you’ll get your freedom. I promise.”

  “I can’t see?” said Justin.

  “I’ll help you.”

  With a great deal of coaxing, Justin did as he was told. Lyle held his arm and helped him up each step until he reached the top. Lyle looked over at the traffic below then looked up at the still-hooded Justin.

  “Can you hear the car horns, Justin? They’re for you.”

  Justin turned his head towards her voice. “Please…”

  Lyle stepped behind Justin and pushed him over.

  He vanished over the edge. The rope around his neck trailed behind him before snapping taut, instantly crushing Justin’s neck. Justin swung under the bridge like a pendulum.

  From below came the sound of cars colliding. Car horns blared.

  Lyle moved the ladder to the right side of the banner.

  “On your feet, missy. Your turn.”

  As Lyle dropped the noose around Rachel’s neck, Rachel pushed back and tried to run.

  Lyle grabbed her arm and said, “Oh, no you don’t. I need you to go this way.”

  Rachel smashed against the railing as Lyle shoved her. Forgetting the ladder, Lyle squatted down and grabbed Rachel’s ankles. With considerable effort, she tipped Rachel over the railing.

  Lyle looked over the side at the couple swinging back and forth below. The traffic was now gridlocked, and people were out of their cars and gazing up. Lyle waved and watched with amusement as onlookers waved back. She blew a kiss and gave a thumbs-up to someone filming. She pointed to the banner and gave a farewell wave.

  Returning to the car, Lyle started the siren and disappeared into the fast-flowing traffic.

  Chapter Six

  Emma Cotton stopped her car outside the house of James Hardy. She grabbed the secure envelope from the passenger seat and walked as quickly as she could up the driveway.

  Her boss, Etheridge, would go nuts if he found out she was once again bothering the retired detective.

  As light-footed as possible, she climbed the steps and reached for the letterbox. The door opened.

  “He’s not here. And from what I understand, you’re not supposed to be here.” Hardy’s girlfriend, Monica, looked down at her.

  Monica was the woman he’d changed his life for. He’d given up being a detective for her. Hardy had changed his whole life for Monica, and now Monica was stood not two feet away while Emma tried to coax him back. Cotton felt like a drug dealer leaving a free sample for a reformed addict.

  “I’m sorry. I just wanted to drop this off.” Cotton held out the envelope.

  Monica took it and said, “He’s trying to put this behind him. I believe he spoke to your boss about you dropping these off.”

  “I’m just looking for pointers. Anything he can offer me. If he could just take a look and let me know what I’m missing.”

  “You know damn well it doesn’t work that way. It’s all or nothing. That’s why he doesn’t open any of the packages you deliver. You need to stop coming here. He’s conflicted and needs time to decide for himself what he wants. You do know he only just survived the last investigation he was on? His daughters nearly lost their daddy.”

  Cotton nodded and said, “I’m sorry. I just…” She turned to walk away.

  Monica’s tone changed. “Are you okay? If you don’t mind my saying, you look like shit. I’ve watched you deliver these envelopes before. Today you don’t seem yourself. Less energy, less zing.”

  “It’s just been a tough few days. As well as work, I have some personal stuff. My fiancé seems to have had a change of heart. It seems every way I turn I seem to be lacking.” She wasn’t sure why she was telling this to a woman she didn’t know. Confiding in strangers must be an indication of how crap her life had become. She needed to be careful she didn’t start seeking counselling from anyone who would listen.

  “I’m sorry. Why don’t you come in? I’m a good listener. I’m alone this evening. I’m dog-sitting while James is out. Alice and Faith are visiting their grandparents.” Monica could see Cotton was tempted. “I just opened a cold bottle of Chardonnay, and I have some chilli con carne I can warm up for you. Come in for a bit. It’s been a while since I had some adult female company.”

  As they chatted and sipped wine Emma could see why a man like Hardy had fallen for Monica. Not only was she beautiful, but Monica was one of those women who could pull off intelligent, maternal and sexy with complete ease. There was a confidence about her that suggested she had life under control. Monica had a way about her that immediately put you at ease. A casual manner and an aura that made you feel you could trust her with your deepest secrets. She felt like a friend she’d known her whole life.

  Monica asked about the investigation, and though Cotton couldn’t tell her much, due to it being an ongoing case, she explained the dead ends they had encountered. It didn’t take her long to get around to explaining how she thought Hardy could help. Monica listened attentively and gave nothing away about how she felt.

  “You do realise I have no sway over whether he ever goes back to active detective work, don’t you?”

  “I wasn’t suggesting you try to persuade him. I wouldn’t do that.”

  “I know. I can see your heart is in the right place. It was his choice to leave. He did it for his daughters, Alice and Faith. After their mother died, he became increasingly concerned that if anything happened to him, they’d be alone.”

  “I heard you were the other reason.”

  Monica smiled a wide, beautiful smile. “The romantic in me likes to think so. The romantic in him likes to think so too. Hardy is the sweetest and most honest man I have ever met. He’s smart, dedicated, passionate and loyal to those he lets in. If you do work with him, don’t ever lie to him. You won’t get a second chance.”

  Chapter Seven

  Opening the front door, she felt her heart tighten in her chest. Her evening with Monica had been enjoyable, but it also emphasised how crap her life was right now. You can’t have it all, she thought, but just some of it would be nice. In her head, she could hear her mother’s voice reminding her how being a detective was ‘no life for a woman,’ and ‘You’ll get to forty, and you’ll be too old for kids.’ And ‘You know how long I’ve dreamed of grandchildren.’

  During the drive home, the conversation with Dave played over and over in her head. She wondered whether he genuinely did just want a little breathing space. For a moment she wondered whether he had simply got cold feet. Then she scolded herself for being so stupid. There was no doubt he was seeing someone else. She’d suspected it for a while, but being so busy she’d put it to one side, hoping his indiscretion could be ignored and would pass.

  Emma tried to calm herself. ‘I won’t cry. Do not cry.’ She checked each room and could see he hadn’t been back to collect his stuff. That set her mind racing as to where he was, who he was with, why he didn’t need his clothes or any of his stuff. She pushed the thoughts away.

  Watson appeared at the window and started meowing and pacing up and down. “Hello, boy. Have you come to say hello to Mummy? Come here. I need some love.”

  Emma opened the back door, and Watson padded in.

  “Still refusing to use the cat-flap, I see. Still feel it’s beneath you?”

  Emma stroked and squeezed him and gave him a kiss on the top of his head before he wriggled free. Her eyes began filling with tears. She fought them back. She opened the fridge and took out some cold chicken. Her v
oice breaking, she said, “Are you hungry? Dave won’t be coming back today. We won’t need all this chicken. It’s just you and me from now on. Is that okay? You can have some.” Emma broke up a chicken breast into pieces and put them down for Watson.

  A sob forced its way out. Then another. Emma had fought hard, but she couldn’t hold her emotions back any longer. Tears overwhelmed her. Having let her guard down for a moment, the distress and upset, which had rumbled away inside, finally erupted like a volcano. She ran to her bed and flung herself on it the way she had done as a little girl. Unable to control her feelings, she had no choice but to let go and let them out. The rawness of her pain and her inability to control her tears surprised her. Were these feelings of loss? Or feelings of failure? Or was it the hurt of his betrayal? Her mind was dark and confused, and everything felt blurred.

  Curled up on the bed, she imagined his warmth behind her and his arm around her. She could smell him on the duvet. Feel his kiss on her neck. She pushed his pillows off the bed onto the floor, turned over her own tear-soaked pillow and fell into a deep, heavy sleep.

  Watson watched Emma for a time from the end of the bed before he too curled up and went to sleep.

  Chapter Eight

  Detective Superintendent Calvin Etheridge ended the call and dropped the phone in his jacket pocket. Ideally, he needed to speak to DI Cotton today, but he’d had enough for one day, and she appeared to have a life outside work. Lucky her. At least someone did, he thought.

  Instead of working late again, Etheridge had decided to go home. Lifting the bottle of brandy from the passenger seat of the Audi and checking the car was locked, he began the short walk along the river.

  These days, home was a caravan beside a half-built house on a piece of land he’d paid too much for. The Wreck, as he called it, made him feel sick to look at. It was meant to be their dream home. He and Kate had planned on building it together; it was to be their fresh start. Instead, it was now a leering, taunting monstrosity. It represented the state of his life. Kate was gone, and the partly built house was nothing more than a constant and expensive reminder of their failed marriage.