The Girl with the Emerald Ring: A Romantic Thriller (Blackwood Security Book 12)

by Elise Noble

  Alaric tried a smile. “Is this your place?”

  “Maybe. Who’s askin’? I don’t want no trouble.”

  Her gaze flicked between Alaric and Ravi as she sized them up, and Alaric dropped his hands open at his sides, going for non-threatening.

  “There’s no trouble, honest. I borrowed a weight belt off a guy in the gym a few weeks ago, and I need to return it, only he hasn’t been back for a while.”

  “What’s that got to do with me?”

  “He was one of your neighbours, but he seems to have moved out. Ryland Willis? In flat 504?”

  “Don’t know him.”

  Alaric held out a copy of the mugshot Beth had taken from the noticeboard at the gym. “Are you sure? He’s a big guy, and he was dating a pretty brunette.”

  The girl glanced at the photo, dismissive at first, then leaned forward an inch to take a second look.

  “Oh, yeah, Ry. I do know him. Want my advice? Keep the belt.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “’Cause he’s a creep.”

  “Really? He always seemed okay to me.”

  “That’s ’cause you’re a bloke.”

  So Ryland was creepy to women? That fit with Gemma’s “uncomfortable” description on Beth’s voicemail.

  “He did something to you?”

  “Not to me. My friend. He offered her a lift to Currys to pick up a new TV, then tried to drive her somewhere else.”

  “But she got away?”

  “Jumped out at some traffic lights.”

  “Your friend—is she around?”

  “Nah, she’s in prison.” The girl tried to skirt past, dragging the toddler along with her. “I shouldn’t have said nothin’. People don’t like snitches round ’ere.”

  “As I said, I’m not looking to cause trouble. Do you know where Ry moved to?”

  “No, but he ain’t gone far. I seen ’im around.”

  “You think he’s still living on the estate?”

  “No other reason he’d be here.”

  “When did you last see him?”

  “Yesterday.” The girl paused, considering. “No, the day before. Walkin’ past the kebab shop.”

  “The kebab shop on the other side of the south tower?”

  She made it to her front door and took three attempts to get the key into the lock. Still nervous?

  “Yeah. But like I said, just keep the damn belt.”

  The door slammed behind her, and Alaric heard voices from inside—not another occupant, but the canned laughter of a TV sitcom. Just another evening in paradise.

  “Is there any woman you haven’t managed to wrap around your little finger?” Ravi asked as they headed for the stairs.

  Only two. And as luck would have it, one called as they hit the ground floor.

  “About that flight…” Emmy started.

  Shit. He should have updated her. “We can’t make it. Not tonight.”

  “Ditto. The dude I was meant to be meeting got delayed in Tokyo. Now he’s not arriving until tomorrow afternoon, and it’s easier for me to wait than reschedule again.”

  “Tell me you’re not taking on the Yakuza?”

  “No, I want to add a saké line to my portfolio. I’m gonna call it Four Fox. Four Fox Saké—get it? Did you know I bought a distillery a couple of years back? No Fox Given Gin, available from selected retailers and the wet bar at Riverley.”

  “I didn’t know, but it doesn’t surprise me in the slightest. I’d better put an order in. We’ll all need it before this job’s over.”

  “The missing girl? She didn’t show up yet?”

  “No, but we’ve narrowed down our main suspect’s address to a few square blocks in Hounslow. I don’t suppose you could spare anyone to help tomorrow? Somebody who wouldn’t look out of place wandering around the housing estate from hell.”

  “You can borrow Sky, and I’ll see if there’s anyone else free. What time are you starting?”

  “First thing.”

  The sooner they started, the more chance they had of finding Gemma alive. The clock was ticking in the background, an unrelenting march towards an outcome Alaric didn’t want to contemplate.

  “Text me the address, and I’ll send her over for eight. Good luck. You’ll need it,” she added under her breath.

  Good luck with Sky or with the search? Either one had the potential to be a nightmare.

  CHAPTER 40 - ALARIC

  SKY CERTAINLY CAME dressed for the part. When she fell out of an Uber on Wednesday morning, she looked as though the love child of a hangover and influenza had staggered through a branch of Sports Direct and barely lived to tell the tale.

  “What the hell happened to you?” Alaric asked.

  She rubbed bloodshot eyes. “I stayed up late helping Emmy to prep for a meeting.”

  Hmm. Exactly what kind of prep did one need to do to import Japanese rice wine? “You were taste-testing saké?”

  “I swear I’m never drinking again.”

  “You shouldn’t have been drinking in the first place. You’re only seventeen.”

  “Not anymore. Emmy got me a new passport.”

  Of course she did.

  “That’s not the point.”

  “You’re telling me you never touched alcohol before you were eighteen?”

  Ravi laughed, but Beth just looked worried. Alaric hated seeing her like that. She should be safely behind her desk at home, tidying up reports and making sure Judd flew to Paris, France, instead of Paris, Texas, this time. Barbara’s predecessor hadn’t been hired for her brains.

  “Here, have my coffee.” Beth held the travel mug towards Sky, who sucked most of it down without pausing for breath, then passed the mug back. “Do you want to sit for a moment?”

  “Nah, I’m fine. Just tell me who we’re looking for.”

  Alaric gave her a copy of Ryland’s picture, then did the same with two foot soldiers from Blackwood who turned up shortly afterwards. They’d start at the edges of the estate and work inwards while Alaric, Ravi, and Sky focused on the centre.

  It was slow going. A handful of people thought they might have seen Ryland around, but most either shook their heads or ignored the questions completely. Every hour, Beth tried calling Gemma just in case she resurfaced, but her phone remained off, its whereabouts unknown. Alaric had taken Ryland’s number from his file at the gym too, and that was out of service.

  He was losing hope when his mobile rang.

  “I just saw him,” Sky said, breathless. “A minute ago. I’m sure I did. Massive bloke. That photo doesn’t do him justice.”

  “Where?”

  “Walking past the kebab shop. But by the time I got outside, he’d gone.”

  “Which direction?”

  “Towards the skateboard ramp.”

  “We’re on our way.”

  Dammit, the man was a ghost. Sky was right—he’d vanished. But at least they knew he was still around, and between the stink in his old flat and the “creep” factor, they couldn’t afford to let up in the search. Alaric considered calling the police and explaining the situation, but from what he’d heard, the Bellsfield Estate was considered a problem child and they avoided it whenever possible. He tried Emmy instead.

  “How’s your hangover?”

  “I’m rethinking the saké idea. How’s your search?”

  “Frustrating. Sky spotted our guy, but he disappeared again. I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

  A long pause was followed by a heavy sigh. That was new. Old Emmy had never sounded so weary.

  “My meeting’s done. I’ll come over.”

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Why wouldn’t it be?”

  “I don’t know. It’s just…”

  “What?”

  “Never mind.” Now wasn’t the time to have that conversation. “I appreciate the help, Cinders.”

  The breakthrough came later that afternoon. Funny how you could spend hours chasing your own tail only t
o catch the prize when you least expected it.

  It happened when Alaric gave in to his hunger pangs and stopped at the Co-op for a sandwich. Ryland’s not-quite neighbour, the girl from 503, was ahead of him in the line with her baby in one arm and a basket of food in the other. Instant noodles, plain yogurt, jars of baby food, a loaf of bread… No luxuries, but when she got to the checkout and saw the total, she stared at it in shock.

  “I will put something back.”

  She pulled out two apples and put them on the counter, then a package of pasta and a box of laundry powder. Fuck. Nobody should have to choose between clean clothes and healthy food. He slid a twenty-pound note across to the cashier.

  “Take it out of this.”

  The cashier did a double take. “What, all of it?”

  Alaric nodded. It wouldn’t exactly break the bank.

  When the girl realised what was happening, she turned to him, eyes glistening.

  “You can’t…”

  “I just did.”

  She opened her mouth. Closed it again and sniffed before blurting, “Thank you.” Then her eyes lit in recognition. “I remember you. Did you find the man?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Eunice didn’t know?”

  “Eunice hasn’t been home.”

  “Oh. She is probably with her daughter. Over there.” The girl pointed out the window, past the towers and the dilapidated playground.

  “Here on the estate?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you have the address?”

  She shook her head. “But I can take you there?”

  Sandwich and change forgotten, Alaric grabbed the girl’s groceries and motioned her out of the store, hoping, hoping, that this would be the lead they were looking for. Over three days had passed since anyone heard from Gemma, and statistically… No, he didn’t want to think about it. The stench from Ryland’s old apartment still lingered in his nostrils.

  “Let’s go.”

  “It really is not allowed to keep a cat?” the girl asked.

  “Huh?” Sometimes, it was hard to keep all the lies and half-truths straight. Alaric had almost forgotten his initial pretence. “It’s a condition of the tenancy. No cats.”

  “What about a dog?”

  “Dogs are fine as long as they’re quiet.” Probably.

  “Then perhaps one day I will get a dog.”

  A fur-coated burglar alarm. “Good idea.”

  They wound through the graffiti-covered maze, skirting groups of loitering kids and the occasional vagrant. In Alaric’s old life, he’d heard acquaintances from the other side of the tracks ask, How can people live like this? But now he knew the answer. They’d been failed. Failed by politicians out for themselves, failed by a society conditioned to accept other people’s suffering, failed by a belief that this was their destiny. Too often, people valued material possessions above happiness, and the result was misery that spread like a plague. No one person could fix the problem. It would take an army.

  But today, he had to focus on a different issue. Gemma. The girl stopped in front of a dilapidated maisonette and pointed at a set of stairs leading to the second floor.

  “Up there.”

  “Thanks. Do you want to wait for me to walk back with you?”

  “No, it is okay. I need to go home.”

  She vanished without another word, leaving Alaric to speak to Eunice alone.

  When the door of the maisonette swung open, Alaric thought he’d taken the red pill and ended up in The Matrix. The woman in front of him looked just like The Oracle, and if the girl from 503 was correct, she might just have the knowledge to match.

  “Eunice?”

  She folded her arms. “Who are you?”

  Alaric tried his spiel again. “Good afternoon, ma’am. I’m from Hounslow Borough Council, and I’m hoping to speak to Ryland Willis. Your neighbour from 503 pointed me over here in case you could help. I believe he used to live next—”

  “Bull-sheeet. You ain’t from no council. Councilmen don’t come around here, not unless it’s an election year, and even then them cowards don’t make it past the ground floor.”

  Alaric had to laugh. Eunice was a perceptive old battleaxe, and she had the spine to match.

  “Okay, you got me. I’m not from the council.”

  “Ryland owe you money? He owe every other sucker money.”

  “Yes, exactly that. I wish I could let it go, but…”

  “Then everyone would take the piss, I get it. But you’re out of luck, toots. Ryland upped and left six weeks ago. Something about a problem with the plumbing. The water wasn’t draining properly. He used to call and complain every damn day, eight o’clock, right before I went to work. I heard him yelling through the walls. The poor bastard of a landlord finally gave in and moved him to another place.”

  “Are your drains okay? I noticed a bad smell in the hallway outside Ryland’s flat.”

  “Had a fall when I was six. Crack. Banged my head on the kerb, and now I can’t smell a thing. Hevrin said there was a stink the other day, but she don’t complain none.”

  “Hevrin?”

  “In 503. She won’t rock the boat, that girl. Too scared of gettin’ sent back home.”

  “Where’s home?”

  “Syria. They killed her whole damn family.”

  “They? The government?”

  “The Turks. She watched her parents die, her brothers, her sister, her husband, and they said she was one of the lucky ones. What kind of world is her daughter gonna grow up in? You got kids?”

  What kind of world, indeed? It was a question Alaric had considered many times after he met Rune. Sirius had been born out of the unpalatable answer. When he’d formed the partnership with Judd, Ravi, and Naz, they’d made a vow to each other—any job they took would be for the greater good. Any line they crossed would be for the benefit of humanity. Selling information had proven to be a profitable business, but money couldn’t buy the sense of satisfaction that came from empowering people who’d fight for the right causes. Their research had put an ethically challenged logging firm out of business, helped an idealistic pharmaceutical start-up to quash their Goliath of a competitor, and exposed illegal practices in a network of private detention centres, to name but a few projects. Corporate research was their bread and butter, but politics was a profitable sideline. Alaric had lost count of the number of corrupt officials they’d exposed. He didn’t much like oligarchs either.

  “Yeah, I’ve got a daughter,” Alaric told Eunice. “Doing my best to avoid her following in her old man’s footsteps.”

  Eunice chortled, then went into a coughing fit, and Alaric caught a whiff of old cigarette smoke over the delightful aroma of fried food drifting from the maisonette.

  “Preyin’ on the desperate, you mean?”

  Alaric shrugged and answered with a chuckle of his own. “Supply and demand.”

  “I like you. I shouldn’t like you, but I do.”

  “You got any idea where Ryland went?”

  “Not far. They put him in the other tower.”

  “Don’t suppose you know what number?”

  “Top floor. Not sure which unit. But you didn’t get any of this from me, understand? I ain’t no narc, but Ryland never had a good word for nobody.”

  “My lips are sealed. He didn’t have many friends?”

  “Friends? No. Sometimes women. The man looked after himself, you know? But once they found out what was underneath, none of them stuck around for long.”

  “There were arguments?”

  “Not that I ever heard. They’d be there, and then they wouldn’t be, and a new girl would show up.” A child’s cries came from inside the maisonette, and Eunice backed away. “My granddaughter just woke up.”

  “Thanks for your help.”

  She closed the door without another word.

  CHAPTER 41 - ALARIC

  THERE WERE EIGHT doors on the top floor of Bellsfield House South. One led to the
roof, according to a yellowed sign, and another to a janitorial closet that couldn’t have been used for years if the state of the place was any indication. That left six. And they’d tried five.

  Two tenants had answered, and neither of them was Ryland Willis. The other three apartments were empty, but Ravi had worked his magic and they’d snooped around inside. Two clearly belonged to families, and the third to a female.

  They stacked up outside the door of apartment 1706, Emmy and Sky on one side, Alaric and Ravi on the other. Alaric questioned the wisdom of Sky being there, but Emmy had made the call and he trusted her judgement. The other two men from Blackwood were watching the stairs and the elevator respectively, both to prevent unexpected visitors and to stop Ryland from escaping if he somehow managed to slip past the four of them and make a run for it.

  Was he inside? Alaric could hear a TV, so it was a good possibility.

  Emmy raised a hand and quirked an eyebrow at him. He nodded. She could do the honours.

  She knocked.

  No answer. Then silence as the TV shut off. The door stayed closed.

  Shit.

  They’d had two options—knock and hope Ryland opened the door, or let themselves in. They’d chosen the former because most people tended to answer the door. But it seemed Ryland was antisocial, and now they’d lost the element of surprise.

  Emmy tried knocking once more.

  Was it Alaric’s imagination, or did he hear the quiet shuffle of a footstep on the other side of the door?

  “Denise? You in?” Emmy yelled, slurring slightly. “I need a cigarette.” She banged on the door again, harder this time. “Denise?”

  “Wrong place, lady.”

  So Ryland was home.

  “Who are you?”

  “Get lost.”

  What a charmer.

  “Fuck you too, asshole.”

  Emmy clomped along the hallway, then tiptoed back again. Two minutes passed, four, nobody moving a muscle, and then she pointed at the lock picks in Ravi’s hand. They were going in. Adrenaline had been simmering through Alaric’s veins for a while, but now it surged as his body prepared to fight. He’d seen the size of Ryland’s shoulders in that mugshot from the gym’s noticeboard. The man wouldn’t go down easy.