We just want to talk.
In any other circumstances the statement would have been unremarkable. In Delilah’s current predicament it was anything but. She’d been kidnapped by the police.
‘You’ve got a funny way of starting a conversation!’ she snapped, doing her best to hide her agitation at the position she was in.
DC Green threw her arms out in a gesture of exasperation. ‘We had no choice. Samson wouldn’t trust me. This is the only way we can help.’
A snort from Delilah. ‘Help? With what?’
The detective glanced towards the shadows and Delilah got the sense there was someone else there. Not just DC Green and the ape of a man who’d seized her. She squinted into the bright light of the naked bulb, trying to see beyond it, but could discern nothing other than a swirl of darkness. And that distinctive cologne, like an alpine forest after rain. Whoever it was, they were making no attempt to reveal themselves. But despite the silence, it was obvious DC Green wasn’t the one in charge here.
It was a fact that was in no way reassuring.
‘We want to help him clear his name,’ said DC Green. ‘We’re the only ones who can.’
‘He doesn’t need your help!’
‘He does if he wants to stay alive.’
The words fell into the chill expanse of the empty barn, a plaintive bleat from a lamb outside a discordant note of normality in this situation that was far from normal.
Delilah felt numb. Trapped. Here was Samson’s suspension support officer – the person who was supposed to be helping him navigate the procedures of the court case he was facing as a suspended police officer – saying that Samson was in mortal danger. Delilah ought to be able to believe her. But after everything Samson had said about his past and the trouble it would one day bring, one thing had been apparent: he didn’t trust a soul, especially not someone like DC Green, someone who was part of the establishment he no longer had faith in.
Which made things tricky, because the charges laid against Samson were serious. Stealing drugs from the evidence locker and selling them on to organised crime syndicates. And the threat was real, someone within the very force he’d served trying to frame him for crimes he hadn’t committed.
But the problem was Samson had no proof to back up his claims. Nothing to help him in the case that would be before the court within a week. Perhaps here was the perfect way to get the help he needed?
‘I’m listening,’ said Delilah.
‘Good. Because we can’t do this without you.’ DC Green reached into her pocket and pulled out a small ziplock bag, passing it to Delilah. ‘Do you know what this is?’
Delilah stared at the tiny square of plastic inside. While it wasn’t something she normally dealt with in her work as a web designer, she was enough of an electronics geek to know what it was. Plus she’d seen something similar a month ago while on a case with Samson.
‘A GPS tracker.’ She looked up at the detective. ‘Let me guess, you want me to plant this on Samson?’
‘You’re quick,’ said DC Green with a smile.
But Delilah was already shaking her head. ‘No way.’
‘You don’t have a choice. Not if you want to prevent him being killed.’
Delilah stood, dropping the tracker on the floor at DC Green’s feet. ‘Sorry, but I’m not buying all this cloak and dagger stuff. You’ve chosen the wrong person for whatever it is you want to achieve.’ With an aura of calm she didn’t feel, she began walking towards the barn door, trying not to worry about the fact that it was being blocked by the man-mountain who’d helped abduct her.
‘Wait!’ It was more of a plea than a command from DC Green, making Delilah pause. ‘We have reason to believe that there’s someone coming. From London. A hitman.’
‘A hitman?’ Delilah couldn’t keep the laugh out of her voice. ‘You’re joking. This is Bruncliffe, for God’s sake.’
But DC Green wasn’t laughing. If anything, she looked even more serious, as if this was her last chance. ‘It’s the truth. The people behind all this won’t allow Samson to make it to court next week. He’ll be dead before he sets foot in the door.’
There was a beat of silence, then Delilah pointed at the discarded tracker. ‘And how the hell is that going to save him? Surely you’d be better off just telling Samson to get out of here and then arresting this mystery assassin that you seem to be so well informed about?’
Another glance into the shadows before the detective replied. ‘It’s not that simple. At the moment there’s no firm evidence to support Samson’s claim that he’s innocent. So we need – Samson needs – this to play out to get the proof that will vindicate him.’
And finally Delilah got it. She stared at the tracker and then at DC Green. ‘So what you’re actually going to do is use Samson to crack this case. He’s your bait.’
This time the silence was longer. Then DC Green nodded. ‘Yes.’
It was one simple word, but it held the weight of the world for Delilah. She was being asked to betray the man she loved, in order to save his life. And all by someone she didn’t trust in the slightest.