Saffina Desforges' ROSE RED Crime Thriller Boxed Set Page 7

  Red winked at Deimante. “You’re fine. Just want to get this young lady to bed. Rubes is very tired. Aren’t you, babe?”

  “No. I’m wide awake.” Ruby stretched out her arms like she was just getting up. “See. I feel like its morning.”

  “It’s gonna be one of those nights.” Red slipped the child to the floor. “Mummy’s waiting for you in the lounge, gorgeous. She’ll be really pleased to see Scat.” To Deimante, “Are you staying for a hot drink?”

  “Thank you, but I go and get bus now.”

  Red pulled two crumpled notes from her jeans’ pocket. “Thanks for tonight. You look frozen already. Get a cab.”

  “No, no.” Deimante waved the money away. “Miss Pippa already paid me.”

  Red grinned, leaning forward conspiratorially. “I know, but she’s such a scrooge. Come and get warm whilst I phone you a taxi.”

  Fear etched Deimante’s face. “No, not taxi.”

  Red reached out apologetically. “Sorry. I forgot. It’s been a long day. I’ll run you home.”

  “A bus is fine.”

  “It’s brass monkey weather out there. I’ll run you.”

  Deimante looked at Red, a bewildered expression exaggerated by the doleful brown eyes. “Monkeys? In London? From the zoo, you mean?”

  Red suppressed a laugh. “Another ridiculous English expression, Dei. Take no notice. Pop in and say hello to Pip while I find my keys.”

  Deimante followed Red through to the lounge.

  “Deimante, how are you? Did my little angel behave herself tonight?”

  Deimante perched herself on the end of a huge Chesterfield, beaming at Ruby, thumb planted firmly in her mouth, nestled on her mother’s lap. “She is always good, Miss Pippa. And she is enjoying the decker-double bus so much.”

  “It’s double-decker, Deimante, and I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that.”

  “Miss Pippa?”

  “It’s just… Well, I know Ruby likes it, but is it really necessary?”

  “Necessary?”

  “The bus, I mean, with the children?”

  “But Miss Pippa, Ruby loves the bus. On the top, at the front, waving to everybody.”

  “You’d love it too, Pip,” Red cut in. “Especially the top deck. Looking down on everybody. Right up your street.”

  Pippa glared at Red. To Deimante, “I mean, look at this poor child. She’s absolutely frozen, aren’t you, darling?”

  “No, I’m hot.” Ruby sat up, tugging her coat off. “Can I have ice-cream?”

  Certainly not, Ruby. And please say may I, not can I.”

  “May Ruby have some ice-cream, please,” Ella said as she walked. “And may I have some too, please, Mum?”

  “No you may not, Ella.” Pippa eyed Ruby’s Happy Meal carton with disdain. “Besides, by the look of things you’ve just been to that dreadful fast-food place.”

  “Well you lot had pizza. Only fair.”

  “Please don’t argue, Ella,” Pippa said, quickly moving on. “It’s not lady-like. And nor is travelling on buses. I was just explaining to Deimante how you would much rather go by taxi.”

  “Says who?”

  Pippa looked bewildered. “Wouldn’t you?”

  “No. Buses are cool. So’s the tube.”

  Pippa shot an accusing glance at Deimante. “You’ve been on the underground?”

  Ella smacked her palm against her forehead. “Duh. Mother, this is London, don’t you know? Everyone uses the tube.”

  “I rest my case, Ella.”

  “Tube there. Bus back.” Ella broke into song, “Maybe it’s because I’m a Londoner, that I love –”

  Pippa glared. “That will do, Ella.”

  “What, are you Simon Cowell now? Have I failed my audition?”

  “Ella! What on Earth’s the matter with you?” Pippa’s eyed darkened, a warning sign Ella knew better than to ignore. “Now, take Ruby up to bed, please, and then go to your own room. I will speak to you later.”

  Ella snatched Ruby from her mother’s lap. “C’m’ere, Tues. Come and let sis read you a story. G’night, Dei. Thanks for a great evening. Laters, Cass.”

  Chapter 22.

  “Well?” Red turned down the volume with the remote. “How did madam take your little chat?”

  Pippa slumped down onto the sofa, shaking free a ponytail of oil-black hair. “The usual response. A few grunts. She did manage to stop texting though, which I consider a minor victory.”

  Red smiled, draping an arm around her partner. “She’s growing up. You think she’s difficult now? Just you wait ’til she’s fourteen.”

  “I just don’t understand where all this dreadful insolence is coming from.”

  “Come off it Pip. She was hardly being insolent. Just standing up for herself. Arguing her case.”

  “When she finishes her education and has a career, then she can argue her case.”

  “Don’t be such a boring old fart. We were all the same at that age.”

  “You might have been. I respected my mother and did as I was told. And don’t tell me it was any different for…” Pippa spotted Red’s raised palm.

  “Don’t even go there.” Red poured crisp white wine into two fresh glasses. “I was at the hospital today. Mrs. Tasker?”

  “Should I know her?”

  “The old lady your thugs nearly killed.”

  “They are not my thugs. Cass. Don’t go throwing the Burns boys back at me.”

  Red handed Pippa the wine, clinking glasses. “You should have seen her, Pip. Maybe you wouldn’t have been so quick to get them off.”

  “Cassandra, those boys got off because your team failed to secure the evidence to prove them guilty. In the eyes of the law that makes them –”

  “Yes, thank you, Counsel. Hey, did I tell you about the new recruit?”

  “Can we not talk about the internal politics of Battersea police station, Cass? Just this once?”

  “Suit yourself.”

  “Anyway, I thought he was starting Monday.”

  “So did I. Until she popped in this morning to say hello.”

  “She?”

  Red flicked up the volume. “News time. Let’s see what’s been happening in the real world.”

  Pippa grabbed the remote, switching the television off. “You were saying? The new recruit?”

  “You didn’t want to know.”

  “Well I do now.”

  “Don’t start this shit again, Pip.”

  “I beg your pardon.”

  “You know what I mean.” Red sat back, letting go of Pippa’s hand. “It’s just another woman officer.”

  “On your team.”

  “Duh. Obviously.”

  “I thought the new recruit was an American?”

  “You thought correct.”

  “Then who is this she?”

  “They do have women in America, strangely enough.”

  “Don’t be facetious, Cassandra. You know perfectly well what I mean. I’m just wondering why this little nugget of information has only slipped out now.”

  “Slipped out? I just told you straight.”

  “You tried to avoid discussing her. You turned the television up.”

  “Oh Jesus. Let’s not do this, Pip.”

  “Do what?”

  “The jealous lover crap. She’s a woman. She’ll be working with me. End of.”

  Pippa sniffed dismissively. “I am not jealous, thank you very much.”

  “Not jealous? Look at you. You’re so green you could pass for Kermit’s sister.”

  “Cassandra, you misunderstand my point. My concern here is not that this new member of your team is a woman per se. It is that you have deliberately lied to me.”

  “What?”

  “I distinctly recall you told me the new recruit was a man. Terry, you said his name was. You lied to me, Cassandra.”

  Red put down her glass, taking Pippa’s hand as realization dawned. “Ah… Pip, sorry, my mistake. But on this oc
casion I plead not guilty. Her name is Terri. Terri with an ‘i’. None of us knew until she turned up.”

  Pippa’s stern features broke into a smile. “There. We’re even. We’ll say no more about it.” She leaned over and pecked a kiss on Red’s lips. “Another bottle?”

  “I’ve work in the morning.”

  “And I haven’t?”

  Red grinned. “Yeah, you’re right. Another glass each won’t hurt.”

  Red returned with fresh glasses and a new bottle. Pippa eyed the twist cap with disdain. “Not again. I’m going to have to change suppliers. I specifically asked for all my order to be corked.”

  “Then they’d be undrinkable.”

  “You know perfectly well what I mean. A cork is a symbol of quality. A screw-cap signifies…” Pippa sniffed the cap, grimacing. “See, nothing. Sampling the bouquet of the cork is one of the pleasures of a good wine. So which part of the United States is this Terri from?” Pippa jotted on her legal pad in a feeble attempt to appear casual.

  “Third question, I’ll bet,” Red muttered beneath her breath.

  “Sorry?”

  “Nothing. Just thinking out loud.” Red passed the glass across. “Texas. Dallas, no less. Straight from the wild west to the mean streets of London.”

  “Hmm. How are the boys finding her? And Anna?”

  “Anna and Terri hit it off right away. I’m really pleased. Barry and Jez nearly creamed their pants the moment she walked in. But I don’t think they’ll give her any trouble.”

  “Anna will enjoy the company, I’m sure.” A pause. Pippa doodled on her legal pad, then, “Creamed their pants? Cass, that is disgusting.” She screwed her face up at the idea. “So this Terri is rather pretty, I take it?”

  “Bingo!” Red sat back, exhaling loudly. “You are just so predictable.”

  “Am I missing something?”

  “Third question. Is she a looker? Now how did I know that was coming?”

  “It’s a perfectly reasonable thing to ask.”

  “How is it?”

  “Of course it is. I simply asked if she was pretty.”

  “Would you have asked that if Terri had been a guy like we expected?”

  “That’s different.”

  “Too right it’s different. If it was a bloke you wouldn’t be worried about me copping off with him.”

  “Cass, that’s unfair. I simply asked –”

  “Bollocks to this, Pip. I’ve got enough problems to cope with without you thinking I’m shagging the new girl. I’m going to bed. And don’t even think about following me up before I’m asleep.”

  Chapter 23.

  “What the…?” Red’s heart leapt into her throat as she spotted the package on her desk.

  The printed lettering swam before Red’s eyes, the memory of the pig’s heart flooding back. Her muscles in her legs stopped working, her vision blurred. She sank into her chair gratefully.

  FAO DCI William Andrews, c/o DI Cassandra ‘Red’ Rose.

  No post mark or return address. A simple, flat, rectangular package, meticulously wrapped in shiny cherry-red paper that glinted in the early morning sun poking through the Station blinds.

  Red’s hand reached for the phone. She hesitated. Bill had enough on his plate.

  Turning it over on the desk, Red’s trembling fingers fumbled with the packaging, folding back the perfectly straight edges, meticulously measured, the cut even across the length. A guillotine blade, not scissors. The sun’s light bounced off the glass surface exposed.

  Red’s reflection stared back at her from a gilt-edged mirror. Her eyes focused on the words daubed carelessly in red across the glass.

  You’re next.

  Chapter 24.

  DCI Bill Andrews took the three red-bricked steps from Southwark Crown Court in one energetic stride. “Sorry, had just popped across the road. Short adjournment. So why the fuss? It’s probably just another prank from Taylor and Harris.”

  Red grasped the cold steel handrail, bending slightly to catch her breath. She thrust the package into her DCI’s hands. “Not so sure it’s a prank, Guv. And it’s addressed to you this time.”

  Andrews turned the parcel over carefully. “Same handwriting?”

  “Definitely. And inside there’s... Well, see for yourself.”

  Andrews turned the package in his hand. “On your desk?”

  Yes, Guv, so it must be someone with clearance. I’ve not asked yet. Brought this straight here to you given... Well, given the message.”

  Andrews unwrapped the mirror, taking in the message without revealing his thoughts. “Looks like blood?”

  “That’s what I thought too, Guv.”

  Andrews slowly folded the paper back over the glass. “It’s probably nothing, Cass. I’ve received plenty of threats over the years. It’s part of the job. You know that.”

  “But you can’t just ignore it, Guv. Someone got this through security to my desk.”

  “All the more reason to suppose Taylor and Harris.”

  Red shook her head. “They’re stupid, but not that stupid. This is a clear threat to an officer. To you.”

  “Get forensics to give it the once over. But it’s probably just some petty villain who has a beef – or bacon,” he grinned at his own joke, “with the police.”

  Red rolled her eyes.

  “I’m due back in Court, Cass. I suggest we…” His gaze swung to the road where a taxi had pulled up. Isn’t that Pippa?”

  Red swung round to see Pippa juggling files, papers and a trolley case. “Don’t mention this to her. She’ll only worry.” Red waved at her partner, a smile fixed on her face.

  “Hey, you,” Pippa said as she approached. “William, how lovely to see you again.”

  “And you, Pippa. It’s been a while.”

  “Far too long. You and Elizabeth simply must come round for a drink one evening. Just let Cassandra know when.”

  Red said, “I didn’t know you were due in court today?”

  Pippa’s suspicious eyes moved from Red’s to Andrews’ face. “No, I can see that. And I cannot recall you mentioning you were due here either.”

  “Just popped over to see Bill. The Guv has something for me.” She glanced at Andrews. “Guv?”

  Andrews hesitated a second too long before responding. “Oh, the present for Terri. Yes. Here it is. Leave it on my desk.” He made a show of looking at his watch as he handed over the package.

  Red gave him a half smile. “Thanks.”

  Pippa’s eyes were cold on Red’s as Andrews took his leave. “A present for Terri?”

  Red shrugged. “It’s nothing, just a Welcome to the force gift. So, what time are you due in? Have you got time for a coffee?”

  “No, thank you,” Pippa said curtly. “I’m already late.” She hoisted the strap of her bag back up onto her shoulder.

  “Here, let me give you a hand.”

  “No, it’s okay. I can manage.” Pippa gave Red an icy stare. “I’ll see you at home.”

  Chapter 25.

  Drink?” Joe Farmer asked.

  “Sure, why not?” The Huntsman dug out miniscule flecks of dirt from beneath his nails with the tip of a hunting knife. “How was the Station?”

  Farmer kept one eye on his visitor as he poured them both a scotch. “Same as ever.”

  “Did you see Red?”

  “She wasn’t there. Out with the DCI Again.”

  “Again?”

  “Thick as thieves those two. If she weren’t bent as a nine-bob note I’d swear he was giving her one. But I doubt she’s ever seen a real cock in her life.”

  The Huntsman eyed Farmer coldly. “Don’t bet on it. So who saw you there?”

  “Barry Taylor and his sidekick. And Jim Mackenzie.”

  “And no-one said anything?”

  “Like?”

  “Like why you were there?”

  “I’m stressed, that’s all. I’m not in quarantine with a disease. I’m entitled to pop in and see my mates.�
� Farmer supped from his can, an inane grin spreading across his unshaven face. “Muppets, working when they could be on the sick. I hate showing my boat there, for fear of bursting out laughing.”

  The Huntsman’s features remained stoic. “Not everyone plays the system, Farmer. Perhaps they have some integrity left.”

  “The hell they do. Everyone has their price. Just, not everyone has the bottle.”

  The Huntsman sneered. “The bottle to claim full pay on sick leave? Do me a favour.”

  “You know what I mean. Force owe me big time. I’m not gonna lose no sleep over it.”

  “I imagine you won’t.” The Huntsman placed the knife down on the coffee table, scanning the dingy flat with distaste. “This all your coppers’ salary could run to?”

  Farmer snorted, dropping down heavily into an over-stuffed sofa. “Wouldn’t look good if I lived in the lap of luxury now, would it?” he sniffed. “Another two years and its goodbye Battersea, hello Bangkok. Sooner if Queenie comes through with a good job.”

  The Huntsman bent the corners of his mouth into a smile. “It won’t be that long.”

  Farmer’s brow creased. Leaning forward, he reached for a packet of Marlboro, shaking a cigarette from of it. He watched The Huntsman through narrowed, beady eyes as he touched the flame from a cheap Bic lighter to the tip. He inhaled deeply before blowing a stream of smoke in the Huntsman’s direction. “Meaning?”

  The Huntsman placed his can gently onto the coffee table, uncrossing his legs, resting elbows on his knees. “Just get me the cash, moonbeam. You make me squirm, your sort. Bleeding parasites.”

  Farmer drained his can. He stood up, leaning across. “I’m not too in love with you either, pretty boy.” He took the Huntsman’s cheek between forefinger and thumb, giving a hard tweak. “But Queenie calls the tune, so I guess we’re stuck with each other.”

  The Huntsman’s eyes never left Farmer’s. “You have something for her?”

  Farmer crushed his half-finished cigarette into an over-flowing ashtray, blowing out a final stream of smoke. “First payment of twenty-five grand. Same again next week.” He crossed the threadbare carpet toward an old Victorian fire grate. Kneeling, he carefully turned two screws and removed a charcoal blackened panel, pulling out a Disney Store carrier bag.