as she studies me with her big lie detector eyes. After what seems like an eternity of interrogation, she finally snaps her notebook shut.
“So you still can’t remember where you put this elephant, and you have no idea what it contains?”
“No, I swear. I have no idea.”
“Okay, that’s all for now, but we will need to question you further tomorrow. Your boyfriend Nick is a nasty bit of work. He used to operate down on the South Coast. When I transferred up to London I recognised him. You weren’t the first holidaymaker he used as a mule.”
“Mule indeed—stupid ass is more to the point,” I mumble, before she continues.
“The ship’s officer,” she pauses and refers back to her notes, “Stephen Davies, we picked up in Florida. He has confirmed that you knew nothing of the consignment. So we are not charging you with anything just at the moment. Unless DS Salter wants to bring a charge of assault against you.”
I groan, remembering his poor shins.
She surprises me by sending a sympathetic look my way.
“If it’s any consolation, the ship’s officer was worried about your safety. He was quite cooperative when he heard Nick couldn’t find the consignment he had given you to carry back. He got into money troubles, and Nick provided him with a way to reduce his debts.”
“Oh, not two complete bastard boyfriends then,” I say. “Just one and a pathetic weasel.”
She nods in comradely agreement.
I am so relieved DS Shepherd isn’t going to haul me off to the cells I want to hug her, but decide against it as she doesn’t look the let’s have a group hug type.
“Are you DS Salter’s partner,” I say. Oh! That didn’t come out right . “Professionally I mean.”
She raises her eyebrows, and I detect a smirk not unlike DS Salter’s. Perhaps it’s a detective thing.
“Only on this operation,” she replies. “He got roped in when I arrived at that weird Regency ball whilst tracking Nick. DS Salter was helping out the owner who is a friend of his. He was actually off duty that night. Then later, he was seconded into the operation after you took up with our suspect. He shouldn’t have gone in on his own tonight, like a knight in shining armour. He should have waited for back up, but he didn’t want you getting hurt. Usually he is more professional, driven by his brain not his…well anyway, he’s one of the good guys.”
Her words make my insides tumble. Trust me not to spot the good guy.
She jumps up from the settee. “I’ll let you know how he’s doing. Any thoughts on the whereabouts of the elephant—get in touch immediately. You’re not being charged at the moment, but it would look a hell of a lot better for you if we could locate the thing.”
When she is gone, I sit amongst the jumble of my flat and pull out my phone. I open my vengeance file and delete “ idiot in buff breeches .” I want to type in two other creeps’ names, but my eyes fill with tears. I have never felt more stupid, more used, or more depressed.
It is eight a.m., and I am still sitting on the settee in the aftermath of the night’s events. I have just Googled, “how to become a nun.” I decide that a nunnery would be the ideal way forward. I could avoid men for the rest of my life. I am sure I will never trust one again.
Outside, the dawn has given way to a beautiful sunlit morning, and I decide it is now too late to go to bed. Wearily, I check my messages. There is a text from Lyn, asking how the date went. I resist replying , a violent criminal tried to torture me , as I know she will come straight round and, right now, I can’t even face my best friend. Instead I call work to report that I have a severe migraine.
I close my eyes and try to figure out what it is about me that attracts such shitty men. I wonder how DS Salter is doing for the umpteenth time since his stretcher departure and consider phoning Bo Peep, but she is probably off duty by now catching up on her sleep. I decide to
“So you still can’t remember where you put this elephant, and you have no idea what it contains?”
“No, I swear. I have no idea.”
“Okay, that’s all for now, but we will need to question you further tomorrow. Your boyfriend Nick is a nasty bit of work. He used to operate down on the South Coast. When I transferred up to London I recognised him. You weren’t the first holidaymaker he used as a mule.”
“Mule indeed—stupid ass is more to the point,” I mumble, before she continues.
“The ship’s officer,” she pauses and refers back to her notes, “Stephen Davies, we picked up in Florida. He has confirmed that you knew nothing of the consignment. So we are not charging you with anything just at the moment. Unless DS Salter wants to bring a charge of assault against you.”
I groan, remembering his poor shins.
She surprises me by sending a sympathetic look my way.
“If it’s any consolation, the ship’s officer was worried about your safety. He was quite cooperative when he heard Nick couldn’t find the consignment he had given you to carry back. He got into money troubles, and Nick provided him with a way to reduce his debts.”
“Oh, not two complete bastard boyfriends then,” I say. “Just one and a pathetic weasel.”
She nods in comradely agreement.
I am so relieved DS Shepherd isn’t going to haul me off to the cells I want to hug her, but decide against it as she doesn’t look the let’s have a group hug type.
“Are you DS Salter’s partner,” I say. Oh! That didn’t come out right . “Professionally I mean.”
She raises her eyebrows, and I detect a smirk not unlike DS Salter’s. Perhaps it’s a detective thing.
“Only on this operation,” she replies. “He got roped in when I arrived at that weird Regency ball whilst tracking Nick. DS Salter was helping out the owner who is a friend of his. He was actually off duty that night. Then later, he was seconded into the operation after you took up with our suspect. He shouldn’t have gone in on his own tonight, like a knight in shining armour. He should have waited for back up, but he didn’t want you getting hurt. Usually he is more professional, driven by his brain not his…well anyway, he’s one of the good guys.”
Her words make my insides tumble. Trust me not to spot the good guy.
She jumps up from the settee. “I’ll let you know how he’s doing. Any thoughts on the whereabouts of the elephant—get in touch immediately. You’re not being charged at the moment, but it would look a hell of a lot better for you if we could locate the thing.”
When she is gone, I sit amongst the jumble of my flat and pull out my phone. I open my vengeance file and delete “ idiot in buff breeches .” I want to type in two other creeps’ names, but my eyes fill with tears. I have never felt more stupid, more used, or more depressed.
It is eight a.m., and I am still sitting on the settee in the aftermath of the night’s events. I have just Googled, “how to become a nun.” I decide that a nunnery would be the ideal way forward. I could avoid men for the rest of my life. I am sure I will never trust one again.
Outside, the dawn has given way to a beautiful sunlit morning, and I decide it is now too late to go to bed. Wearily, I check my messages. There is a text from Lyn, asking how the date went. I resist replying , a violent criminal tried to torture me , as I know she will come straight round and, right now, I can’t even face my best friend. Instead I call work to report that I have a severe migraine.
I close my eyes and try to figure out what it is about me that attracts such shitty men. I wonder how DS Salter is doing for the umpteenth time since his stretcher departure and consider phoning Bo Peep, but she is probably off duty by now catching up on her sleep. I decide to
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