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I WAS TREATING the nightshift like heading into battle: I’d drilled my security team via radio that they had to be in at least pairs; I had the night-vision camera feed linked directly to my tablet with an Edwina-assisted map of the manor. Every security member had pepper spray, a baton like the one I’d had before it was chopped up, a panic button, and their locations linked via their phones to my tablet.
I lay a piece of blue string along all their patrol routes outside—staked into the grass which had numbers on it corresponding to their location on the map. Jake had also helped me erect a massive metal fence along the part the moors that gave access to the ruins. Then, to check, I’d taken Malcom, Jake, and a few helpers around the outside of the estate walls and we made trebly sure there was no way anyone could get in.
I’d locked up the stables at seven; locked up the main doors to the conference centre at ten; double-and triple checked every outer building to make sure they were locked and empty; stationed Mick on the gatehouse because he never let anyone in even when they were allowed, and I was back in the creepy courtyard once more.
Fiona called me at half past ten and I grinned at my mobile. “Hello, now fancy getting a call from you.”
Fiona chuckled. “Sorry had to wait for the kids to go to bed . . . at least to their bedrooms . . . and that includes Bob.”
Of course, it was a school night all round. I rolled my eyes. Macho, Bob.
“I’m calling to get you to make Sophie stop talking,” Fiona said with a long sigh. “Ruth and Trin played her and you weren’t there. I am furious about what they did. Derek is acquiescing though.”
“When did she see them?” I stuck a chewing gum in my mouth. I’d been told by Edwina it helped with stress. It wasn’t really helping but I had a minty scent.
“In the town. Aunty Edwina took her down there to find out why people were stealing from her.” Fiona said it like I was supposed to know. Edwina hadn’t told me. Sophie was always button-lipped but why hadn’t Edwina said anything? “Anyway, they worked her. Max put it this way: Trin got Sophie aroused and then Wood used you to lure her in and it worked. They got her to admit a link to her murdered accountant and then even had her identify who she was from a picture before saying that she felt the housing developer, Bright, was connected . . . which of course, linked her right back to Salisbury being found on his premises.”
I closed my eyes for a few seconds. As Max and his psycho-babble would call it “a slow blink.” Generally meant I was pissed right off.
“They even got out of her that the accountant’s son had stolen off her and stolen her account records.” Fiona grunted and slammed something in the background. “It’s so unethical.”
“It is but they will cover it up as talking to a witness . . . or try to.” I was sick of the pair of them and contrary to popular belief, the police should not trick, lie, or offer inducement to get information. I headed into the hallway and checked the rooms one by one.
An investigative interviewer used psychology to build a bond, yes; read body language, mood, intonation as much as what a person said; hey, they even noted hotspots for when someone answered or acted differently to the “baseline” reaction the officer had noted as normal for them.
I checked out the kitchen and wrinkled up my eyes at the buzzing blue light in the corner. Max or any other police staff member should have been calling Trin and Wood out on their tactics.
“Why are they so obsessed with investigating her?” I couldn’t understand it. Yes, she might be a prime suspect in their heads but why weren’t they following other leads? “Did Trin ever check out the ticket stump?”
“Yeah.” Fiona sighed again as I headed toward the black marble stairs. Jimmy’s replacement sat on a chair at the bottom. “It’s a stub receipt for the pottery in town.”
Shit. I sat on the stairs for a moment. “What about the son of the accountant?”
“Did a runner. We have a nationwide alert for him but they’re talking about offering him an inducement to get dirt on Sophie,” Fiona said mid-huff.
I smiled at Jimmy’s replacement opposite me when I really wanted to throw something. “Immunity from police prosecution?”
“Yup,” Fiona said and slammed something else. “Instead of thinking ‘hey, there might be a link with this guy who stole nearly half a million from Sophie, his mother has wound up dead, he was working in the pottery and living in one of Bright’s houses.’”
“At least they have a real police officer around, even if you are too busy organising everyone to step in.” I leaned onto my fist. “Either way, if it goes to court, I could rip holes in anything he has to say, let alone his motive.”
“You think it’ll get to court?” Fiona’s voice grew small.
“It’s probable right now but if it does, I’ll make sure that court knows every single unprofessional trick they’ve tried; blacken them to the point they’ll be facing charges, secure a ‘no case to answer,’ then sue them until Derek has the budget of a traffic warden.” I rubbed the bridge of my nose. Chewing wasn’t helping, just making my jaw ache.
“I needed that.” Fiona let out a slow breath.
“What I need is Max’s report. If he hasn’t written it down, make him produce one for budgeting reasons. He’ll want to charge a fair penny.” Always did. Psychologists like Max were fantastic assets if you knew how to use them. Like any tool, it had the most efficient use but if you asked him the wrong questions, he couldn’t provide the right answer.
“Guess what picture I have to send you.” Fiona sounded as crafty as always. Wonder where she got that from?
“Fantastic.” I smiled at the security guard trying to ignore me, whittling on. She looked about fourteen and certainly not old enough to be guarding a staircase in a creepy manor at night. She was tanned though and wore some weird contacts that made her irises bright blue—as in cartoon blue.
“I’m going to use a pay-as-you-go phone from now on though, and maybe you should too . . . just in case.” Fiona sounded worried again. She should be. If the police traced this conversation or any conversation between us, we’d both be in prison. Right now, they didn’t know Fiona was related to Sophie but it was risky.
“Yeah, change your number too and provider.” Not that it would be all that useful if anyone looked at her records. Especially as Trin knew my number and I wouldn’t put anything past her now.
The baby-security guard smiled as if she knew I was up to something.
“Oh, Bob has run a bath for me.” She sounded delighted about it. “Catch up when I know more?”
“You can catch up anytime, you know that.” I smiled at the guard again who tapped away one-handed on her mobile. I hung up and stretched off my legs. “Kate, isn’t it?”
The baby-guard nodded.
“What made you decide to become security?” I headed over to her, checking over her baton, spray, radio, panic button visually.
“Pays good,” she grunted in the oddest accent I’d ever heard: part Cockney almost, part posh, part South African, or somewhere in the southern hemisphere where they played rugby a lot. I was good with accents but sometimes it was difficult to catch where it was from exactly. “Nice place too.”
Her skin almost made me think of how Sophie would look if she spent a long holiday abroad. She definitely had the cheekbones and stature. I could see that even with her sitting. She had broad shoulders like Sophie too but, of course, she was nothing to do with Sophie. She had blonde hair for a start.
“This your first job?” I glanced up and down the lonely hallway. She looked completely unfazed by the eerie silence punctuated with tick-tock-ing grandfather clock.
“Nah, had a few here and there.” Kate grinned up at me with utter confidence. “Been working since I was sixteen. Mum is on her own so got to pull my weight.”
I was completely fascinated by her accent. I didn’t know what to make of it but asking any more questions seemed a bit too much like something my mum would do.
“Good to have you on board. Where’s your teammate?” I had been there at least fifteen minutes and seen no other security guard.
“Oh, Malcom went off on a wander to the first floor. Said he’d be back in half an hour.” She shrugged as if she was glad of it. “Think one of the other guards needed him to patrol one of the ballrooms or something?”
In other words, the two older guys upstairs couldn’t be bothered to walk the whole of the first floor so made the younger guard do it . . . alone.
“Malcom, you good?” I asked into my radio and winked at Kate.
“Yup.” He yawned as if to prove it. “All clear.”
“Really . . . in the hallway? Because I can’t find Kate and she seems to have left her baton behind.” Yes, I know what you’re thinking, I was mean for saying it but I issued the order for a reason.
“What? no . . .” Malcom wasn’t yawning now but Kate was sniggering behind her hand. “I . . . I . . .”
“ . . . will not do what Glen and Jack tell you to again and make them do their own patrol.” I winked at Kate who was in fits of giggles. Oh, she liked it when I freaked people out? She was perfect for this place then. “She’s fine but if you leave her again, I’ll insert her baton up your bum.”
And now Kate was snorting.
Edwina came out of her office and raised her eyebrows.
“I’m sorting my guards out.” I thumbed to the stairs as Malcom hurried down.
“Sorry, ma’am,” he spluttered, puffing out his cheeks. “It’s just . . .”
“They are lazy but that put you in danger.” I met his eyes. “I don’t want you in danger, please.”
Fiona would have been impressed with the motherly tone. I just needed glasses to peer over.
“You got it.” Malcom plonked down on the chair next to Kate. “Ballrooms creep me out anyway.”
Kate gave him a disgusted look like being scared of creepy places was unnatural.
“Hey, I mean it. It’s well scary.” Malcom flicked his finger through the air. “You would hate it.”
“Wouldn’t.” Kate got to her feet. “I’m happy to take the courtyard. You can see me from your office there.”
I raised my eyebrows.
“I’m not scared,” she shot at Malcom and strode down the hallway.
I looked at Malcom. “I don’t know what they feed her then, it terrifies me.”
He nodded. “She’ll be back in here before you know it.” He pulled out his phone and technology sucked him in.
I glanced back at Kate and sighed. At least I didn’t have to be in the courtyard.