Behind the Walls: A British Crime Thriller (A DCI Pilgrim Thriller Book 4)

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Behind the Walls: A British Crime Thriller (A DCI Pilgrim Thriller Book 4) Page 2

by A L Fraine


  “Careful, I might think you enjoy that more than you like me.”

  “I’ll admit, it’s a close call.”

  “I think I have a few advantages over a Fig Roll.”

  “One or two, but let’s not get carried away.”

  “I did buy them.”

  “I know, and I shall be forever grateful to you for it.”

  “Forever?”

  “Well, maybe for the next few hours,” she replied with a shrug before she stepped up to him and pulled him in for a hug and a brief kiss.

  “Oooh, figgy,” Jon replied, licking his lips before pouring the tea and making a point of adding the milk second, after the water.

  “I suppose if I’m going to be dating you, I need to get used to that.”

  “We all make sacrifices, my dear.” He winked and handed her a mug.

  “Thank you, and yes, I guess we do. You must be happy with this house then? It’s lovely, really. There’s a lot of potential.”

  “Yeah, I am. I think I’ll be happy here.”

  “I hope so.”

  “Oh? Thinking of hanging around, are you?”

  “I might, you know… if you’re lucky,” she replied. “I’ll need to train you up, of course, but I’m up to that challenge.”

  “Yeah, good luck with that,” Jon replied, scoffing at her comment.

  She laughed. He enjoyed listening to her and the banter they had between them. She gave as good as she got, and he liked that about her.

  They were soon back to work, unloading and unpacking, as Jon started to settle into the house, finding new homes for his stuff.

  He found a few photos of Charlotte he’d packed into one of the storage boxes, and it brought him up short for a moment. He picked one of them up and gazed at her smiling face as she beamed out at him. She’d been beautiful, but she was also long gone, and there was no bringing her back.

  He’d kept these photos up in his old house, doing his best to keep her fresh in his memory. It was as if he’d been trying to keep her alive. He didn’t want to forget her, or what she’d looked like, but he guessed he’d never really forget. Not really.

  Placing the framed photo back in the box with the others, he heard Kate moving about downstairs. She wouldn’t mind if he had a photo or two of her out, but he realised he didn’t want to have all of them up. It would seem odd, and would be too much of a reminder about what happened to her.

  One or two would be okay, he thought, but that’s all. There was no need for any more.

  Standing up, Jon walked to the front window. He was in one of the upstairs rooms at the front of the house, which he thought he might use as a spare room for guests. For now, it would be a suitable dumping ground for some of the boxes when he wasn’t sure where something might go.

  Jon looked out onto the street, noting Kate bringing in another box from the van.

  Across the street, he noticed a single man standing against a hedge, looking at his house.

  He wore a hooded coat, and he couldn’t quite make out the details in his face in the evening light. But as he watched, the man very clearly looked up and locked eyes with him.

  The man stood there for a moment longer, staring at him, before he slowly tore his eyes away and walked away up the street.

  Jon watched him go, wondering who he was and why he was staring at the house. Maybe he was the local weirdo or an overly enthusiastic member of the neighbourhood watch group. Jon couldn’t be sure but made a note to keep an eye out for him.

  Shaking his head, Jon returned to unpacking.

  3

  “Thanks for all your help last night,” Jon said as he walked with Kate towards the front door. “I couldn’t have done as much without you.”

  “That’s okay, happy to help. Also, I know what you keep in your drawers now, so…” She bugged her eyes at him.

  Jon raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Hopefully, I didn’t scare you off.”

  “Nah. I’m made of tough stuff, and I’ll turn you into a southerner yet.”

  “Don’t start that again. I’ll always be northern, no matter how long I’m down here. But, I’ll admit, I have a soft spot for a few of you southerners,” he replied with a wink.

  Kate placed a hand on her chest. “Oh, be still my beating heart. I’m so flattered.”

  “Seriously though, thank you for helping and staying over. I know you hadn’t planned to.”

  She shrugged. “I know, but I just didn’t fancy going home, so…”

  “I suppose it meant we got to christen the place,” he said with a wink, wondering if that was a bit of a crass thing to say.

  “Eeeww, Jon! You make it sound like a dog marking his territory.”

  Jon blinked. “Aaah, well, that’s certainly an image I’m not getting out of my head anytime soon. Thanks for that.”

  “You started it, you big lug.” She pulled him in for a hug and a quick kiss. “I’ll see you later.”

  “Sure thing,” he said, moving toward the door. “What time do you think you’ll be over?”

  “Early afternoon? I’ve just got a few errands to run and shopping to get. I’ve got nothing in my flat. All the usual stuff when we have a couple of days away from the station, you know? But I’ll be back to help you later. Don’t worry. I know you can’t cope without me.”

  “Oh, indeed. I’d just fall to bits without you here.”

  “I know, it’s very sad. Try to cope without me, won’t you.”

  “I’ll try. Besides, I’ll just lure you back with more Fig Rolls.”

  “Damn it, my one weakness!” she said, opening the door. She kissed him again and walked out. He had a few things to do today too, but most of his time would be spent here, moving things, unpacking things, taking deliveries. He wondered if he’d ever feel settled.

  But that was the thing with homes, wasn’t it? They were a constant money pit, and they always needed things doing to them. It was never-ending.

  Looking at the ceiling, he wondered what secrets this home would hold. All homes had them buried away. He’d paid for a survey, of course, but they never revealed every little problem a house had.

  But, he was sure things would become apparent and be revealed in due course. He just hoped they wouldn’t be too bad.

  He walked back towards the kitchen with a sigh, where he’d left the dregs of his morning tea, which he’d finish before getting on with the day’s tasks. He wanted to get as much done as he could before returning to work tomorrow. He had his own run to the shops to do for a start. He couldn’t live on takeaways, not if he wanted to keep running after criminals.

  He’d barely stepped back into the kitchen when there was a sudden knock on the door.

  Jon smirked as his eyes picked out the half-eaten packet of Fig Rolls on the side and wondered if she’d decided to grab one last one before she set off.

  “Alright, alright. You can have one for the road,” he called out as he walked back up the corridor and pulled the door open.

  “Well, that’s a hell of an offer, Jon,” Sydney said.

  The raven-haired woman leant against the door frame and beamed at him with her glistening ruby lips. Her dusky eyes bored deep into his soul, promising him all kinds of things. She was all hips and boobs in her body-hugging dress, and she clearly knew the effect it would have.

  For a moment, Jon wasn’t sure how to react. He’d not seen Sydney since the end of the Russell Hodges case. She’d sent him a few messages in the interim, but he’d never replied as he did not want to encourage her. But, it seemed she didn’t need any encouragement.

  She’d shown some kind of interest in him during that earlier case, flirting with him mercilessly, despite being Russell’s supposed girlfriend, although she was no longer with him now, as far as he knew.

  He couldn’t quite believe she was here, on his doorstep right now, especially so soon after Kate had left. What if she’d appeared while Kate was still here? What would Kate have said?

  But no, if he had to
guess, she’d probably been watching the house and had waited until Kate walked away before making her move. She was that kind of person.

  Cunning, smart, sexy and dangerous. Especially that last one. Kate had seen it too. She was trouble in high heels.

  So, what was she doing here? Why had she suddenly appeared on his doorstep? He dreaded to think, and in fact, he really didn’t want to know. He just wanted to get rid of her.

  But before he could get his thoughts together enough to slam the door in her face, she barged past him. Walking into his new home, her shiny black stilettos clicked on his wooden flooring. She walked in them like they were a natural extension of her feet, confident and assured, despite them looking like some kind of torture devices.

  He watched her swan down his hallway, her hips swinging as she traced a finger along the wall, no doubt entirely aware that his eyes were on her. But he wasn’t looking at her in that way. He had no interest in her beyond her connection to the case she’d been a part of. Instead, he just felt horrified that she was here at all.

  “So, this is your new place, is it, Jon? Hmm… Well, I guess you could say this is… well, nice, I guess?”

  With a grimace from her backhanded compliment, Jon leaned out through the door. Looking up the street to where he knew Kate’s car had been parked, he noted it was gone, and he breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn’t quite sure how Kate would react to Sydney appearing on his doorstep.

  Pleased that this visit hadn’t caused any further issues, he turned and steeled himself for the conversation to come.

  “What are you doing here, Sydney?” he asked, holding the door open for a moment.

  “Sydney?” She looked back, a carefully sculpted eyebrow raised. “Oh yes, I guess that was the name you knew me by. Hmm, no. I think we need to change that. My name is not Sydney.”

  “You’ve mentioned that before. But that’s the name I know you by, so…”

  “Then get used to something else, Jon.”

  Jon grunted in exasperation.

  “Hmm. You can call me, Ariadne.”

  “Ariadne?”

  “Do you like it?”

  “Only as much as I like you, which is to say, not at all.”

  “Oh, come now, Jon, don’t be mean. Is that any way to treat a guest who’s come here in good faith to congratulate you on your new home, such as it is? Please, have some manners.”

  “That’s rich, coming from you.”

  “Trying to ruffle my feathers, Jon?” She smiled at him, and then turned away, keeping her eyes on him before looking away at the last moment, as she set off down the hallway. “Shut the door, Jon. I’m not leaving yet, not without a guided tour.”

  Jon grumbled under his breath. For a moment, he considered grabbing and carrying her outside just to get rid of her. But knowing Sydney, or Ariadne, or whatever, she’d find a way to make his life difficult, and it wouldn’t do for him to get accused of that kind of thing, no matter who said it.

  He guessed he’d just have to see where this went, he thought, and closed the door with a long sigh. Walking after her, he pointed to the floor.

  “Hallway,” he said, and pointed to the room on his right. “Dining room.” Jon continued to point at things and state loudly what they were as he walked back towards the kitchen at the back of the house. “Living room, boxes, stairs, walls, kitchen. It’s nothing you’ve not seen before.”

  “Oh Jon, you really are a sourpuss. Here I am, being nice to you, and all you can do is be sarcastic and rude?”

  “I’m a northerner. It’s a way of life,” he replied, falling back on a typical stereotype.

  “Hmm.” She muttered, leaning over the sink to look through the back window into the overgrown garden beyond. It might be his imagination, but he got the feeling she bent forward just a little more than she really needed as if she was displaying her rear for him. She was flirting. But why? What did she want from him?

  Following her gaze out the window, he saw the overgrown grass just looked like a lot of work, so he turned away. He’d deal with that later.

  “Nice garden,” Ariadne remarked as she stood up straight again and tilted her head to catch his eye. “Lot’s of space to, well, do all kinds of things.”

  Her words just sounded dirty. They dripped with innuendo, which was no doubt on purpose.

  “Why did you come here, Syd… Ariadne?”

  “See, you’re getting it.” She sauntered over to a nearby chair.

  “Am I? Well, I’ll tell you one thing I don’t get, your interest in me.”

  Ariadne sat and took her time crossing her legs as she settled into the seat. “Well, what can I say? You just intrigue me, Jon. I like you, and I feel bad that you lost out on coming with me. I really am quite rich now, you know.”

  At the cost of someone else, he thought. “How is, Russell Hodges?” he asked pointedly.

  “Why should I care?”

  “You fleeced him. You stole from him.”

  “Any man who can’t look after and hold on to his own money doesn’t deserve to have it.”

  “You’re lucky he didn’t press charges.”

  “Luck’s got nothing to do with it, Jon. You should know that. Only an idiot relies on luck. Besides, he wouldn’t do that to me, and even if he did, who would he prosecute? Sydney? She doesn’t exist.”

  “You exist,” Jon replied.

  “Prove it. You know, you really should see where I live now, Jon. It’s quite spectacular, and it could have been yours too.”

  “I’m quite happy here, thanks.”

  “You should never settle for second best, you know. If you want something, you should get out there and take it.”

  “Is that your philosophy on life?”

  She stood, her eyes locked on his. “Oh yes. I always have my eyes on the next thing I want, and I always get it,” she answered, walking over to him, her movements languid and calculated.

  “Always?” Jon asked, feeling very uncomfortable.

  “Always,” she replied, getting closer. She reached out and placed a finger on his chest.

  Jon stepped sideways and slipped away from her. “I think it’s time for you to leave, Ariadne.”

  “You got it right. Well done.” She sighed dramatically. “Okay, I’ll go. But I’ll see you again soon, Jon.”

  “I can’t wait,” he replied, making sure to put as much sarcasm into the words as he could, before walking up the hallway with her right behind him, her shoes ringing out on the hard flooring.

  “It’s a nice place you have here, Jon. Cute, and small, but nice. I’m sure you’ll be happy here.”

  “I will be in a minute,” Jon remarked, lacing his words with meaning.

  She smiled, her crimson lips flashing. “I’ll see you soon.”

  “Bye,” Jon said. He closed the door on her before locking the deadbolt and walking away. He could still smell her perfume and shook his head as he walked into the front room. Peering out the front window of what would be his lounge, he watched her walk out to the pavement. She paused and looked back, her eyes falling on the front window he was behind. She blew him a kiss and waved, before turning and walking along the road to where a black Lamborghini Centenario with red detailing sat waiting. It had already drawn a small crowd of admirers. She seemed to relish their attention as she climbed in, revved the engine, and screeched off down the road, much to the delight of the watching kids.

  But Jon felt none of that exhilaration. He felt only troubled and concerned. What was her game? Why was she interested in him? There were no good answers to these questions, and that was a concern.

  4

  Lenny stood in the playroom at the back of the house, looking at the wall that adjoined the kitchen, and considered what his first move should be.

  The wall, like half of them in this quirky little cottage, was unusually thick and uneven, betraying the building’s age. They’d fallen in love from the moment they’d seen it and knew they had to own it. It was just so quaint
and oldy-worldy, he thought. But that wouldn’t stop him from doing some work on it. There were a number of things he wanted to do to make it theirs, not least of which was to fix some of the dodgy wiring and sort out the central heating. The place just got so cold, despite the thick walls.

  And then there was the wifi, which had trouble reaching all corners of the house, again because of the walls. He’d ended up buying several extenders just to fix it.

  But his next project was a little more involved and would leave them in something of a mess for a while. But, it would be worth it.

  The whole house was a series of small rooms, and to Lenny, it desperately needed opening up. Luckily, Phoebe agreed.

  Areas like between the kitchen and this back room, which had ended up as Gracie’s playroom, were ripe for adjusting. Knocking through would open the whole thing up and create a nice large space for them, which would be ideal.

  “Have you broke the wall yet, Daddy?” Gracie asked, wandering through, clutching her favourite doll.

  “Not yet, sweety, no. It’s going to take a while to do,” he replied and crouched down before her.

  “Oh, But I want to play in here.”

  “You can’t today, remember. You need to play in the lounge, okay? Daddy’s going to make a lot of mess.”

  “Oh. Okay.”

  He smiled at her as she turned and walked out, pausing to wave at him in the doorway before she disappeared. Once she was gone, he returned his attention to the wall, feeling both keen to get on but also slightly nervous about taking his sledgehammer to it.

  He’d done his homework, though, and knew it wasn’t a load-bearing wall, so there really wasn’t much that could go seriously wrong. Lenny took a deep breath and picked up the hammer, only for the doorbell to sound through the house.

  “Can you get that, please, Lenny?” Phoebe called out from another room.

  “Yeah, I’ll go,” Lenny replied as he strode through the house, leaving the hammer behind. “It’ll be the builder’s merchants, anyway.”

  Opening the door, he was greeted by a stout, overweight man in a high-vis vest over a check shirt and jeans.

 

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