Fifty Two Weeks of Murder Read Free Page A

1890. The return to Curtis Green building in twenty sixteen had allowed the “New” to be dropped and the building was now simply Scotland Yard. The three hundred and seventy million pounds raised from selling the previous Met offices had gone into refurbishing the new one, yet the exterior still looked drab and dour.
    Anders had elected to stop at Waterloo and walk along the embankment to the Yard. She enjoyed the bustle of the streets and made a mental note to take Cassie and Aaron to the London Eye as she walked past. Aaron would enjoy the macabre London Dungeon that had moved to the Eye from London Bridge and Cassie would enjoy the Aquarium that was found next to it. A biting wind snapped at her jacket and she pulled it tight as she leaned into the blast. In typically British fashion, the day was breaking its earlier promise of sun, and dark, forbidding rainclouds started to loiter with intent. Walking along Westminster Bridge, she gazed at the Houses of Parliament and wondered at the history of the city. Modern skyscrapers tore at the skyline, visionary designs of glass and steel that sought to escape the clutches of the ancient buildings littering the streets. Anders loved the clash of ages. 
    Scotland Yard was located a short walk from the bridge and she paused briefly as she came into its shadow. The building was large and square, with rows of evenly spaced windows and little character. The impressive Ministry of Defence building crowded over it and Anders chuckled at the bombastic contrast. Before she could move on, a deep, yet cocksure voice boomed from the riverside, the cockney accent clear over the traffic.
    “I thought I recognised that sweet ass from across the river!” Anders turned to see a large, immaculately dressed figure cross the street and move nimbly towards her, idly flicking a cigarette butt away as he weaved through the traffic. His suit was cut to show his broad shoulders and trim waist, a gold necklace flashing in the light against his dark skin. He walked with a swagger and opened his arms in greeting as he reached Anders. She grinned as she saw him and embraced the younger man with joy.
    “Jesse,” she said. “I had no idea you were in London. Don’t tell me you’ve turned from the dark side!” Jesse shrugged easily and gave a wicked grin.
    “You’re out of touch Special Agent Anders,” he replied. “I’m all out of that business, going clean and straight. Found me a cushy job with your new boys.” Jesse laid an arm around Anders as he guided her into the building. “I ain’t no Blackhat nomore, but you know you can’t go around calling me Jesse. It’s Crackers my little angel.” Anders stepped to the security desk and signed herself in before allowing Jesse to show her to the offices. The large atrium was bustling with the change of shift and a few surreptitious stares were directed at Anders. Within law enforcement, she was both curiosity and legend.
    “I’m no Special Agent now, Jesse, and I told you when I arrested you that your mother gave you that name for a reason and it wasn’t so you could change it to Crackers.” Jesse laughed and kept pace with the banter. His company was easy and he held no grudge for the past. Besides, he would owe her for many more years to come.
    “Hell, you’ll always be the most special of Agents and you know it,” he said wistfully as he took her to the lifts. She gave him a knowing look and he sighed theatrically before pushing open the door to the stairwell and graciously waving her down.
    “It’s a long way down,” he moaned as they descended deep into the concrete bowels of the building. “Seems the Met don’t like the NCA in their building for some reason.”
     
    It really was a long way down and Jesse was breathing heavily as he slammed open the door to their offices by leaning wearily on it. Anders was admonishing him for his smoking as they walked into a large open space that was well lit and filled with new equipment