The Murder House Read Free Page A

Wright’s hostile gaze on his back as he went. He collected Anderson from the briefing room and told her what he wanted. She nodded agreeably, although he sensed she felt she had drawn the short straw. He sympathized, but he needed a body. She collected a radio, and he drove her to the derelict house CID was using for observations.
    â€˜What made you join the force?’ he asked conversationally as they turned down a cobbled street from which SS
Great Britain
could be seen in the distance, its masts and spars a spiky mass against the orange sky. ‘The fabulous salary? The excellent working hours? The chance to meet charming people?’
    â€˜Do you mean the villains or our colleagues?’ she asked, laughing.
    â€˜Both. Look, I’m sorry about this. I know you’d rather be out with the lads, but I really need someone here tonight.’
    She raised her eyebrows. ‘Why? Word is that if anything does happen, it will be during the day. We both know watching the place now is a waste of time.’
    â€˜I disagree. A lot’s at stake here. Three teenagers have died from bad drugs this year, and more will follow unless Noble’s operation is stopped. It might not feel like it, but being here is probably the most important thing anyone on your shift will do tonight.’
    â€˜Really?’ she asked coolly. ‘Then why aren’t you doing it yourself?’
    He grimaced. ‘Point taken. But I’ll tell you what: if anything does go down, you’re the arresting officer. It’ll look good on your record, and it’ll annoy Wright.’
    â€˜It’s all right,’ she said grudgingly. ‘It’s not as bad as traffic duty. At least here some kind soul might bring me a flask of coffee later.’
    â€˜Sugar?’ asked Oakley genially.
    I’d been at New Bridewell about a year and a half when Wright assigned me to watch the sheds. It was a pain, and Wright said that if anyone other than DI Oakley was in charge, no one would have bothered to stake out the place at night. Oakley had a reputation for being thorough.
    But at least Oakley was nice about it. He seemed genuinely sorry that I’d drawn the short straw, and spent a full thirty minutes pointing out various buildings in Noble’s domain, and explaining why it was important that Noble was caught. He was clearly determined to nail the man.
    It was just a shame it wasn’t likely to happen while I was there.
    Oakley took Anderson some coffee and a bag of chips just after midnight. The sheds were still and silent, and the derelict house bitterly cold. Oakley experienced a pang of guilt, but he wasn’t about to let her go early. He gave her his peace offerings, made sure her radio was working, and headed home. It was a little after two o’clock when he was woken by the crackle of the radio he had placed next to his bed.
    â€˜Noble,’ Anderson whispered with barely suppressed excitement. ‘He’s just opened one of his sheds, and his two heavies are down by the waterfront. I think they’re waiting for someone.’
    â€˜Don’t do anything, Helen,’ said Oakley, reaching for his clothes in the darkness. ‘Sit tight and wait.’
    He called the station and, within minutes, a carefully formulated plan was swinging into action. Oakley ran down the stairs, pulling on his coat as he went. Remembering not to slam the car door or gun the engine – the neighbours had recently complained about his nocturnal habits – he drove quickly towards the docks.
    Butterworth was already there, almost dancing with glee. ‘A boat’s making a delivery. Tony Johns can see it from the roof, and he’s getting it all on camera.’
    â€˜Good,’ said Oakley. ‘Is everyone here?’
    Butterworth nodded. ‘DI Davis is up with Anderson, and Wright’s got two traffic lads nearby, in case things go pear-shaped. Dogs are on standby, and Bristol East