‘Is she dead?’ Freddie kept saying it. She was pale with shock.
Nasreen didn’t know the answer. She kept a hand on Freddie’s back, feeling her shivers, steering her through the double-height reception. The knife sweeping towards Lottie played on loop in her mind. Watch me: that’s what the message had said. The perp had given them a show.
Green was in front of them, quiet following the video. Chips knew they were on their way up. They’d received the message too: Chips, Saunders, Burgone. The thought of Jack seeing that, of what he must be imagining right now, bit into her and clamped on. It was even more important to have Freddie here now. She’d tell them Freddie had been sent the messages too. That this was linked to the Hashtag Murderer case; that the person who had Lottie wanted them all to watch.
Green reached the bulletproof glass security doors that shielded the offices from the reception. She handed her warrant card over to the guard, glancing back to give Nasreen a worried look. Green buttoned her suit jacket before she was waved through the metal detector. As if neatening herself might make sense of the situation.
‘Freddie, I need you to listen to me. Are you okay to do this?’ She couldn’t have Freddie going to pieces. Whoever had Lottie was toying with them. ‘If you’re not strong enough – mentally – then no one will blame you …’
‘I’m okay.’
Her eyes were glassy and her skin felt cold as Nasreen placed a hand on her arm. ‘I can’t have you having a panic attack in front of Saunders or Chips.’
‘Harsh, Nas.’ Freddie’s eyes met hers for the first time since the car. It was a good sign.
‘I know you haven’t had any relevant training.’
‘There’s training for getting a video like that?’ Freddie looked incredulous.
Fair point. ‘No, not exactly. But I need to know that if it comes down to it, you won’t fall apart.’ She meant it. This investigation wouldn’t make collateral damage of Freddie. Nasreen would keep her safe. Keep her close. ‘I need to know you can cope with this.’
‘You need to work on your trust issues.’ Freddie was warming up, getting angry again. That was good. That was normal.
‘We need to make sure we handle this properly. I need you to watch what you say. In fact, let me do the talking. DI Saunders will not be thrilled you’re here.’
‘DI Saunders hasn’t met me yet,’ Freddie shrugged.
Nasreen tried to imagine what Saunders, with his tailor-made suits and pressed shirts, would make of Freddie’s frayed jumper and scuffed boots. ‘That message wasn’t a ransom note – whoever made it wanted us to see what they were doing to Lottie. They wanted us to watch. You included.’
‘Do you think she’s … still alive?’
Before she had to answer, a voice called from reception. ‘DS Cudmore?’ Lorna was sitting behind the huge curved desk, waving like they were old friends.
She forced a smile in return, pulling Freddie with her. ‘Lorna, I need to sign in Freddie Venton. She’ll need a security pass to get upstairs. She’s working as a consultant on an active case.’
‘Oh, of course.’
Nasreen watched Lorna’s delicate fingers fly over the keyboard. The printer whirred into life and the girl leant down to pull a strip from the machine.
‘Is there any news on DCI Burgone’s sister?’ Lorna’s eyes were wide with concern as she slid the printed strip into a plastic lanyard for Freddie.
Freddie tensed next to her. Don’t give anything away. Case details weren’t to be discussed with civilians. ‘Nothing yet.’
Lorna gave a little shudder and rallied herself. ‘I’ll need you to sign in please, ma’am.’
Freddie caught the vase of lilies on the reception with her elbow as she reached for the pen. ‘Sorry.’ She was too antsy. She scribbled her signature and looked up at the girl. As if she were trying to root herself in the room. She knew how she felt. ‘You look familiar. Have we met before?’
‘I don’t think so.’ Lorna looked from Freddie to Nasreen, as if it might be a trick question.
‘You need to wear this.’ Nasreen gave the lanyard to Freddie. ‘At all times.’
‘Got it!’ Freddie snapped her fingers and Lorna jumped. Nasreen wished she would shut up. They were wasting time they didn’t have. ‘You look like that YouTuber!’
‘Oh no,’ Lorna blushed. ‘I get that a lot though. I know the one you mean.’
She cut over Freddie’s nervous yammering. ‘Do you have a message for me, Lorna? You called me over?’
‘Oh yes! That’s right.’ The girl smiled. ‘Not a message – a package.’ She spun her chair to pick up a large white box from behind her.
Alarm flooded through her. She wasn’t expecting anything. No one other than the team knew she worked at this address. You couldn’t receive things at work. She hadn’t even told her parents what road the office was on. Could the person who’d been clever enough to snatch Lottie without anyone seeing, tenacious enough to source the private numbers of the team, wily enough to evade detection by the tech lads, be capable of finding the office? What happened after the video cut?
Lorna turned round, holding the box. It was basketball sized. Wrapped completely in masking tape. Watertight. On one side were printed words that rooted Nasreen to the floor. It must have showed on her face.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘I need you to put that down very carefully, Lorna.’
Freddie stepped away from the desk.
‘What is it?’ Lorna’s lip trembled.
Without taking her eyes from the girl she activated her radio. ‘This is Detective Sergeant Nasreen Cudmore. We have a State 14. Suspect package delivered to reception.’
‘Oh my god,’ Lorna’s face was ashen.
‘It’s from them,’ Freddie gasped.
‘Lorna, I need you to very carefully place the package down on the desk in front of you.’ Nasreen was aware of noise around her. The fire alarm began to scream. An evacuation.
‘Help me!’ Lorna said.
‘Please make your way quickly and calmly from the building,’ the security guard boomed.
‘You’re okay, Lorna, you’re doing great. Just put it down – that’s it.’ The girl’s hands were shaking. Nasreen braced. It could be a bomb, or chemical. ‘Freddie, I need you to go outside.’
‘I’m not leaving you.’
Watertight. Blood-tight. What had happened after the camera had cut? What was in the box? They had to preserve any evidence – if it wasn’t about to blow them all sky high. ‘That’s it. Good girl.’
Lorna put the box down, her fine fingers juddering. Nasreen braced. Nothing happened. Lorna looked like she might cry. If it was an explosive device, it could still trigger. If it was biological, she could have been contaminated. ‘I need you to not touch any part of yourself. Can you do that?’ The girl nodded. ‘You’re okay. I just need to get you checked over first, all right? Paramedics will be here soon.’
In the corner of her eye she saw the glass door to the offices swing open. The bulk of Chips running towards them. ‘Cudmore?’
The security guard blocked him. ‘Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to step outside.’
‘Get off me, lad. That’s my sergeant.’
‘You need to leave the building,’ the guard was shouting. ‘This is a full evacuation.’
‘Secure the cordon, lad,’ Chips commanded. ‘What is it?’ He was at her side. Panting. She still had her hand up, a signal to hold Lorna in place. Keep her calm. She couldn’t let her out until they knew any chemical risk had been contained.
‘Suspect package,’ Freddie said.
‘Who’re you?’ Chips said. Nasreen looked away from Lorna for just a second. Heard the girl whimper and snapped her head back. There were too many of them here. Too many at risk.
‘Freddie Venton.’ Freddie’s voice was shaking.
Sweat pooled on Nasreen’s lower back. She itched to tug her shirt free, but didn’t dare bring her arm down: it was pacifying Lorna. She’d brought Freddie here; she was putting her life at risk. ‘Can you take Freddie outside please, sir.’
‘Not until you tell me what the hell is going on …’ Chips’s voice collapsed as he caught sight of the words, printed in capitals on the top of the package: WATCH ME.