- -
- 100%
- +
She sighed, heading towards the door leading to the stairwells. As she pushed the glass door open she remembered the day she first came here to view the flat.
It had been another hot day not unlike this one, and she’d deliberately worn a low-cut top and a short low-slung skirt to distract the estate agent when they discussed the monthly rent.
As planned, he’d taken the bait.
All men are weak…
He would tell the landlord she accepted the monthly rent but he would ‘fix the books’, as he put it, and she would pay less.
‘It will be our little secret of course,’ he’d said.
‘I can’t thank you enough, Mr Brown,’ Amelia had replied in her sweetest of voices.
He’d extended his hand once again, eyes narrowed. ‘Call me Adrian, I insist.’
Amelia had almost reached the top of the stairs and she shuddered, recalling the events that had taken place that afternoon.
She turned to face another door leading to the second floor of flats, and pushed it half-heartedly, the hinges squeaking.
The once brightly painted wood, now a grimy shade of brown, had been vandalised again. The frosted glass window had been smashed for the second time in two weeks and there was additional coloured graffiti climbing the length of the door frame.
Amelia wandered further along the corridor, hearing a dog bark from behind the door of flat fifteen, not unlike any other day, but it made her jump nonetheless.
Although keeping animals in the flats was prohibited, she knew that tenant had probably struck a deal with Adrian to keep him sweet.
Besides, considering what she’d seen, no one with any common sense would confront the tenant about the noise level from the dog. Most people draw the line at suicide.
After walking past a few more doors, Amelia rested her head against her own, not wanting to enter. After a few moments of staring at the heavily soiled brown carpet beneath her feet, she forced her key into the lock and quickly turned it.
She pushed the door open and kicked off her shoes before dumping her bag down on the kitchen table. She pulled a chair out from under the table, went to the fridge, retrieved a bottle of wine and poured herself a glass, before returning to the table and taking a seat. She took a long drink from the large glass and stared around at her tiny living area.
The walls were painted a neutral colour throughout the flat, with plain light-coloured carpets. She had a small red two-seat sofa in the corner facing a small portable television set. Her battered coffee table had seen better days, but it’d been a bargain purchase from a charity shop in the centre of town.
Her thoughts were broken by the thudding of a stereo above her head, which seemed to shake the ceiling to a continuous beat.
Sighing, she opened her bag, her breathing suddenly rapid as she zipped apart the soft leather. She found the blister pack of small white pills, popped one out and swallowed it dry.
The stereo above her head pounded harder and Amelia checked her watch. Soon she would welcome the distraction of the music above; it would give her something to focus on and forget where she was and what she was doing.
During her life, Amelia had learnt how to detach herself from her body and imagine she was somewhere else.
Today would be no different.
Glancing at her watch again, she headed towards the bedroom. She began to remove her clothes, folded them neatly and placed them on the cream-coloured duvet in front of her. She drew the dark-red curtains, blocking most of the light from the room, which now cast black-red shadows across her face.
She hoped it would be in the dark this time, and then she wouldn’t have to keep her eyes open and pretend she wanted to be there.
As was routine, she pulled back the duvet and slid between the sheets. She shivered at the coolness of the fabric against her skin. As the bed began to warm with the heat of her body, it offered little comfort while she waited.
Then she heard a key turn in the front door.
The hinges whined as the door swung open then closed softly. She heard shoes being removed and slung carelessly, thudding on the floor. She heard the heavy footsteps approaching the bedroom door, hesitating before the door was pushed open.
A shaft of light broke the shadows in the room and she closed her eyes tight, pretending to be asleep. The door shut and someone moved closer to the bed and Amelia tried to sneak a look beneath her thick eyelashes.
She saw a tall shadow move around the foot of the bed and peek through the curtains.
He is so afraid of being caught…and I wish he would be.
The figure at the curtain pulled the material shut and then wandered back around the bed towards the light switch.
Amelia winced at the sudden break in the darkness, her eyes trying to adjust as she slowly opened them, seeing him looking at her.
‘I told you I want the lights on. That was the agreement,’ said Adrian.
‘Your agreement. Not mine,’ she spat as she rolled over to face towards the window.
Adrian smiled as he removed his navy suit jacket, placing it over the back of a chair. He unbuttoned his light-blue shirt.
Amelia glanced over her shoulder towards him. She could tell he’d recently visited the tanning salon, judging by his golden tan. His hair looked freshly styled too, glued into place with expensive hair gel. His fingernails were also well groomed and his fingers set off with expensive rings.
Amelia hated what money could do to people. She hated the way Adrian paraded himself around with his expensive suits and fast cars. She hated the way he could talk his way into people’s heads and convince them to part with vast amounts of money for a new home. He would even take extra money from people and keep it for himself, despite his high pay grade and commission perks. She hated this and she hated him.
Her thoughts were broken when she saw him remove his underwear, and then approach the bed.
‘I haven’t got long today. I have a viewing to do at three,’ he whispered as his hand clasped her shoulder.
Amelia lay back and detached herself from the moment.
Robotically she spent the next twenty minutes making the right moves and noises in the right places before he finished, dressed, then left as quickly as he’d arrived.
***
After Amelia had scrubbed herself so hard her skin almost bled, she had towelled off and sat on the bed staring at her phone in one hand and Adrian’s business card in the other.
After she’d put in a call to Adrian’s office and hung up, she drafted a text message to send to the name listed only as ‘G’ in the contacts list.
Made the call. Will let you know when it’s done… A
She hit send.
Amelia knew the plan set for her and knew she’d have no trouble executing it to its full exquisite potential. She only hoped that when it came down to it, she had enough self-control not to cut too deep.
CHAPTER 6
The light from the sun beating down on her head flashed across the black plastic of her sunglasses as she tilted her head towards the sky.
Drawing the last pull on the cigarette pinched tightly between her fingers, Claire exhaled a stream of smoke from between parched lips, and felt as if her very being was becoming more withered with each step she took.
She glanced down at the butt of the cigarette, stopped in her tracks and flicked it to the ground. She watched it roll into the gutter, joining the rest that had been discarded near the entrance of Gladstone Court.
Claire cocked her head skyward once again.
Her second visit here today in such a short space of time. Someone’s idea of a sick joke. Was this all her life was meant to be from now on?
The old council block loomed above, the dull redbrick cutting an ominous shape through the bright blue sky.
To Claire, coming here meant putting on a brave face. It meant trying to cast aside the memories of the past, if only temporarily. It meant casting away the pain she had tried to bury for all these years.
She fumbled in her bag for the separate keyring she deliberately kept away from her main set. It was an attempt to, symbolically at least, keep this part of her life, the one inside the building, from clashing with the other.
Her fingers felt like ice as she clasped the fob and pulled it from her bag. She swiped it over the sensor on the wall beside her and the front door to the building gave an audible click and a green light flashed on the panel.
Grasping the handle, Claire yanked it and went inside.
As usual the lift was out of order, so she took a slow walk up the stairs to the fourth floor. The air on this level was stale. The large windows on this floor, at this time in the afternoon, allowed direct sunlight through the thin single-glazing glass. The heat generated was relentless and Claire popped open another button of her shirt.
There were two flats on this side of the building, and Claire now stood in front of the second one and steeled herself inside.
She pushed her spare key into the lock…
CHAPTER 7
Another viewing with a client had gone well and Adrian had negotiated an unfair price on behalf of another greedy landlord taking full advantage of the housing crisis for another shitty little studio flat.
Another successful day for some.
Adrian sauntered through the office leaving his usual sense of arrogance and pride wafting in invisible lines behind him.
He made himself a coffee before heading back to his office. He unlocked his PC screen, taking a sip of his coffee while he checked his diary for the afternoon. He scrolled down the page in front of him, and then paused, his gut tightening.
He glanced at his watch.
It was after 3:30pm and Amelia Williams would be there in ten minutes according to his diary. Confused, Adrian shouted to his PA through the closed door rather than ring her using the internal phone.
‘Mary!’
He could hear her rushing up from her seat. Mary slid her head around the door, her long brown curly hair falling around her face, which always reminded Adrian of a poodle crossed with a King Charles spaniel. Her big blank brown eyes stared back at him.
‘Yes, Adrian?’
He pointed to the screen. She glanced at it and pulled a face.
‘Why is she booked to come and see me in ten minutes? This appointment wasn’t in my diary this morning.’
Mary flushed. ‘Sorry, Adrian. She called up this afternoon and said she needed to talk to you. I tried to speak with you but you were busy on a conference call.’ She paused and looked upset. ‘She was very forceful. I just booked her in. I meant to tell you but…I guess I forgot. I’m sorry.’
Adrian cursed under his breath. He turned and waved her away and she scurried out of the room.
Before Adrian had a chance to think, his phone rang. It was the main reception calling and Adrian pulled a face as he picked up the receiver.
‘Adrian Brown…OK…I’ll send Mary.’ He hung up and rested his forehead in his hands. He was dreading what might come next.
He asked Mary to prepare some coffee after she had seen Amelia to his office and asked that she not disturb them. Mary soon returned carrying two steaming cups. She watched bright green eyes follow her as she placed a coffee cup in front of Amelia on Adrian’s desk, before passing her a sideways glance of disapproval.
This amused Amelia.
Clearly the buck hadn’t stopped with her and who knew how many women Adrian had cheated.
She glanced up towards Adrian and his eyes met hers, studying her face intensely. Amelia waited until Mary closed the door to his office before smiling at him. She reached for her coffee and took a sip.
‘You may want to keep that one. She makes quite good coffee.’
He shook his head. ‘Why are you here? We’re not supposed to meet like this.’
‘There’re lots of things we shouldn’t be doing but that hasn’t stopped you.’
Adrian’s lips pulled upright into a grin. His eyes wandered from her face towards her shoulders, noting the thin white camisole top that hugged her delicate body. Her hair fell roughly tousled around her face, with tendrils touching the tops of her bare arms.
‘Still, we shouldn’t be meeting here at the office like this. You draw too much attention and unwanted questions. I don’t make it a habit to meet tenants privately in my office.’
‘Just screw them, then?’
‘Only you.’
Adrian watched her eyes, which seemed to him to be a darker shade of green today. It made him uneasy and restless.
‘Why are you here? You saw me a few hours ago. Why not say something then?’
Amelia lowered her cup back onto his desk, her eyes never leaving his. ‘You were rather pre-occupied at the time.’
‘I’m a busy man. Spit it out, I don’t have time for games.’
‘But you play them so well.’ She leaned forward, her hair framing her pretty face in a wild red glow.
Adrian cursed under his breath but still he stared longingly at her.
At length, Amelia got up from her chair and walked around the desk to stand behind his chair.
Her hands pressed down hard on top of his shoulders.
Her fingers curled, clawing him in her grasp.
Adrian felt her nails dig into his flesh.
CHAPTER 8
By the time Claire had driven back to the office, she tried to look as if the last forty minutes hadn’t happened.
She sat in her car in the station car park, pulled her sunglasses off, and tossed them on the dash. She peered into the rear-view mirror. She dabbed around her eyes with her fingertips, removing any smears of make-up before heading into the station.
As she walked into CID, DI David Matthews was on her as soon as she was through the door.
‘Guv,’ he said, too loudly, in her ear, enough for her to glance across the room to where Michael was sitting, watching them closely.
‘Guv, can I have a word?’
She gave a curt nod, and he followed her through to her office, shutting the door behind him. As Claire sat down in her chair, she risked another glance at Michael. She had a perfect line of sight to his desk through the glass partition walls of her office.
He was rifling paperwork on his desk, and then peering at his computer screen, pretending to be busy.
Claire knew he was watching them, watching her.
Every single move.
‘Have a seat, Matthews,’ she said as she booted up her computer. He sat in one of the chairs opposite her desk and just smiled. Claire raised her eyes to meet his. ‘Why are you grinning at me like a Cheshire cat?’
Matthews leaned forward, clasping his hands together and rested them on her desk. ‘The Hargreaves case?’ he said. ‘I got your email. Thought now would be a good time to go through everything.’
Claire glanced towards Michael’s desk again. He wasn’t there. She felt herself relax a little.
She found herself smiling back at Matthews, her ice-blue eyes glowing in amusement. ‘I thought you’d be pleased. You wanted to work the Hargreaves case and now I’m making you SIO, we’ll discuss the details tomorrow, with Diego.’
She paused and considered her next words carefully.
‘And before you ask, Diego didn’t take it too well – about Hargreaves – so do me a favour and don’t rub his bloody nose in it. I’m working the Wainwright murder with him. The last thing I need is him resenting me any more than he does already.’
Matthews was beaming. His dark-brown eyes looked out of Claire’s office, across the incident room to the work station he shared with the other underdogs – mainly the DCs in his eyes. He shouldn’t even be sitting near them. He was meant for better things.
He wanted Claire’s crown and this was his big foothold on the ladder.
He leaned forward, his floppy brown hair falling around his eyes. He brushed it back with his left hand and offered his other to Claire. ‘I can’t thank you enough.’
Claire stared at his hand then reluctantly shook it. ‘Just don’t let me down… Don’t make me regret this.’
Business and pleasure didn’t mix, Claire knew that, and she’d learnt the hard way. The last thing she needed was people talking about her and Matthews and she couldn’t afford to be showing any favouritism.
‘I need results on the Hargreaves case. I’ve got DSI Donahue breathing down my neck and the press aren’t exactly painting a pretty picture about us at the moment,’ she said, her eyes lowered. ‘They’re calling the whole investigation a farce. No justice for the families…the usual.’
Her eyes met his.
He nodded. ‘Not a problem, Guv. I won’t let you down.’
Claire gestured for him to leave. ‘I’ll be holding you to that.’
After Matthews had left, Claire’s BlackBerry rang.
She saw the screen. Chose to ignore it. When the call diverted to voicemail, she switched the phone off.
***
Michael headed outside the main building, lit himself a cigarette and walked towards the designated smoking area. He leaned up against the wall and exhaled a stream of smoke.
He closed his eyes.
‘You look like shit.’
Michael opened his eyes and saw the familiar grin of DC Gabriel Harper standing a few feet from him.
Michael allowed himself a small smile. ‘Love you too, Gabe.’
‘It’s just an observation, mate,’ he said, now standing beside him. ‘Got one to spare?’ he said, nodding towards Michael’s cigarette.
Michael offered him the pack and lighter from his pocket. Harper lit one, and gave Michael a prod in the arm as he handed it back.
‘What’s been going on with you?’
Michael shrugged. ‘The Hargreaves case. I’ve worked my arse off on it, and it’s drained me.’
Harper squinted, the sun hurting his eyes. ‘And now Matthews is taking it on.’
Michael shot him a look. ‘I wasn’t aware that was common knowledge yet.’
‘It wasn’t until, like, five minutes ago, when he waltzed out the Guv’s office, smug grin on his face, and made a big show of collecting the Hargreaves files.’ He gave him a sympathetic look. ‘Wasn’t very subtle, mate.’ He paused. ‘I’m gutted for you, if I’m honest. The one chance we had to get Hargreaves once and for all and you could’ve nailed him. Now, I’m not so sure…’
Michael plucked the half-smoked cigarette from between his lips and chucked it to the ground.
‘You’d better keep that to yourself, Gabe,’ he said, brushing past him on his way back into the building.
CHAPTER 9
Amelia turned the key and let herself into her flat. She reached for her mobile phone which she’d left on the kitchen worktop and dialled the number she knew off by heart.
Calling G flashed across the screen before she put it to her ear. It seemed an eternity but finally her call was answered.
‘Is it done?’ the voice said.
‘It is. He won’t be bothering me any time soon, but I get the feeling it won’t be the last time we’ll be dealing with him.’
‘What did you do?’
‘I used my…persuasive charms.’
There was a long pause.
‘You didn’t hurt him, did you?’
‘Just a scratch… Did I do wrong?’
‘No, but we must focus on our goal.’
‘He’ll keep up the rent-side of the deal. He won’t get my body in return, if that’s what’s bothering you.’
The quietness on the line told Amelia this was pleasing news.
‘When can I see you?’ she said.
‘Soon.’ There was another long pause. All Amelia could hear was soft breathing on the line.
‘I loved you, since the moment you first came into my life. Remember that.’
Amelia bit her bottom lip hard. Every time she heard those words it all but stopped her heart right there and then. ‘I know,’ she said at length.
The phone clicked before going dead.
Amelia placed her phone back on the counter top and took the flick knife from her pocket, pulled back the blade and smiled.
***
Adrian Brown looked down at his blood-soaked shirt sleeve.
Bile began to rise in his throat, but he suppressed the urge to vomit. He applied pressure to the wound, fighting back the urge to scream.
He doubled over in pain, and blood seeped through his fingers.
He remembered the look on Amelia’s face as she’d plunged the knife into his upper arm, and how her other hand had pressed firmly over his mouth as he had screamed.
He’d felt like he would pass out but he had fought against it when they had heard Mary approach the office. Under duress he’d told her through the door that he was fine.
He’d waited with bated breath until he’d heard footsteps leading away, Mary’s curiosity shot down in an instant.
He’d sighed and shut his eyes.
When he had looked back at Amelia, her attention was on the blood seeping through his shirt. His gaze had followed down to her right hand, fingers gripping the handle of the knife firmly, her knuckles white. In that moment he had tried to think back to where it had all started to fall apart.
Then she had wrenched the blade from his arm.
Her eyes had never left his as she wiped the knife clean with a tissue. The perks he’d got from their financial agreement were over. She’d made that crystal clear.
He waited until she’d left his office before removing his tie and securing it tightly around his shoulder, pulling it tight. He then put his suit jacket on. He would wait half an hour before risking going to A&E.
He waved Mary away when she tried to enter his office. She looked hurt but he didn’t care.
Amelia had been a worthwhile distraction at the time but now she was a threat, an inconvenience.
She had to be dealt with as quickly and discreetly as possible.
CHAPTER 10
It was just after nine the next morning and Michael sighed at the No Smoking sign on the door in front of him. He dropped the remainder of his cigarette on the floor, crushing it under his foot. He exhaled the last dreg of smoke from his dry lips, pushed open the main door and entered the reception area of St Catherine’s.
He felt the eyes of the middle-aged receptionist burning into his body as he approached the glass window at the front of the reception booth.
Looking behind her he could see other workstations and a main office at the back with a sign on it.
‘Can I help you?’ she said, brushing an imaginary strand of hair behind her ear. Michael noticed how, although her face was lined and her hair was showing signs of grey, she was not an unattractive lady. He forced a smile and maintained direct eye contact with her.
‘Detective Sergeant Michael Diego,’ he said, showing her his warrant card.
He saw her stiffen.
He was used to that response as soon as people found out what he was. ‘I need to speak with the Head, if he’s around.’
‘He is a she, and rather busy this morning. You should have made an appointment.’
He’d been anticipating this response. ‘Tell her it’s important. Tell her it’s in relation to a murder inquiry.’
The woman froze.
‘I’ll wait right here until she’s ready to see me,’ he said, taking a seat in one of the chairs in the waiting area. ‘Oh, and I take my coffee black, one sugar, thanks.’
The receptionist bristled but headed towards the office behind her. After five minutes she reappeared with a mug of coffee and handed it over, handle facing away from him deliberately. He smiled, wincing inwardly at the heat burning his fingers.
The receptionist forced a smile. ‘Miss Wallis will be with you soon. Until then, please wait here. We don’t allow visitors to wander around the school unescorted.’