Death Trap (17 page)

The outdoor light came on. The door partially opened, a security chain holding it back. Rio saw half of the face of an older black woman, a black, satin nightcap on her head.

‘Yes?’ The woman’s voice was soft, Nigerian and edgy.

Rio showed her warrant card. ‘I’m Detective Inspector Rio Wray. Are you Mrs Ibraheem?’

‘If this is about Chiwetel, he doesn’t live here . . .’ Her voice cracked. ‘Has something happened to him?’

‘If I could come in, please.’

The woman unhooked the chain and opened up. She stepped back as Rio and Calum entered. The scent of food cooked earlier lay thick in the air. The woman was large in both height and size. She clutched the ends of a bright red dressing gown. Her dark face was sad and mournful as if she had been in this position before.

‘We need to speak to your son Adeyemi.’

Suddenly the woman straightened her back as her arms dropped to her side. ‘He’s not here.’ She shifted her body so that she stood almost in the middle of the hallway like she was trying to protect the rest of the house.

Rio inched closer. ‘I think that you’re lying to me—’

‘No.’ Mrs Ibraheem gazed over Rio’s shoulder. ‘He’s good boy—’

One of the doors leading off the hallway opened. A young man stepped outside. As soon as he saw Rio he twisted around and started running. Calum was already after him, bolting past both women. He lunged forwards and grabbed the man by the back of his T-shirt and flung him face first against the wall.

‘Leave him alone,’ his mother cried. ‘He’s done nothing wrong.’

But Rio ignored her as she strode towards Calum and his captive. The man shifted his face so that only his profile was pressed against the wall. His breathing was ragged and hard.

‘Are you Adeyemi Ibraheem?’ Rio asked.

‘Of course he is,’ his mother called out. ‘You think I let strangers sleep in my house?’

‘Where is Nicola Bell?’

The eyelid that Rio could see flickered as he replied, ‘Don’t know no Nikki Bell.’

‘She didn’t call her Nikki, Dumbo.’ Calum slammed him hard against the wall again. ‘Tell us where she is?’

‘No, I—’

But he never finished as the door of the room he’d come out of was flung open. Nicola Bell stood in the doorway and yelled, ‘Leave him alone. He’s my boyfriend.’

twenty-one

10:20 p.m.

Nikki Bell sat shaking on the camel-brown sofa in the living room, wrapped in the arms of her boyfriend. To say that hearing about her parents’ death had knocked her for six was putting it way too mildly. Her legs had gone from underneath her as the shock and tears came. Adeyemi had carried her into the family room, while Rio sat opposite and Calum and Mrs Ibraheem hovered in the doorway.

The sixteen-year-old looked across at Rio. Her skin was pasty in contrast to the golden-blonde hair that hung over half her face. She flicked her hair impatiently aside.

‘They didn’t want me to see Ade, just like they didn’t like me seeing cousin Lia. Not because he was black and his parents are Nigerian, they didn’t have a problem with that. They hated that he’s Muslim. What did they think he was going to do? Blow up their conservatory? Not all Muslims are terrorists.’ Her voice broke. ‘I wish they were still here so I could tell them . . .’ Her voice fell away as her head moved in a bewildered side-to-side movement, fresh tears spilling from her mournful, grey eyes.

Her boyfriend’s arm tightened protectively around her as he spoke for the first time. ‘Is that why her parents are dead? Did someone go to her house to kill her? That man who was in the hospital earlier?’ Although he spoke with anger there was a natural gentleness in his tone.

‘I’m sorry,’ Rio answered, ‘I’m not able to divulge details about the investigation—’

‘For fuck’s sake—’ He exploded back.

But his mum’s voice stopped him in his tracks. She spoke rapidly in a language Rio couldn’t understand and then finished up in English. ‘ . . . It’s best for your
friend
to go.’

Ah, so there was trouble on the home front. Mum didn’t approve of Nikki.

‘How did the two of you meet?’ Rio asked, her tone softening.

The lovebirds gazed at each other and shared a private smile. It was Ade who answered.

‘I’ve been studying up at Oxford. Part way through my second year.’ His hand moved up and down against his girlfriend’s arm, not a rub more a comforting shuffle. ‘We met at a sixteen to nineteen student conference last year—’

‘She’s not right for you,’ his mum jumped in, her opposition out in the open. ‘Do you know what they call children from Peckham? Thugs. Criminals. Animals. One son is already lost to me. But not my Ade.’ A bittersweet smile curved her lips. ‘He’s made me proud. Oxford University.’ Her chest pushed proudly forwards. ‘That girl is no good for him.’ She made that tutting sound that most black people called ‘kissing your teeth’ and bustled past Calum out of the room, her back slightly bent.

The couple on the sofa wore new strained expressions as if another death had occurred in their lives. Rio wasn’t going to get involved in this family drama.

‘Nikki, you can’t go back to your home.’

‘Can I stay with cousin Lia?’ Her face lit up for the first time. ‘I used to stay with her on the day of my birthday, but then Mum and Dad said I couldn’t anymore.’

More family drama Rio didn’t need to know about.

Rio pointed at Calum as she stood up. ‘This is my friend Calum Burns.’
Friend? Yeah, what a joke that was.
‘I just need to talk him.’

She moved past Calum into the tight passage and he followed her.

‘So how are you going to look after your young cub, Mommy Bear?’ he asked. He leaned more on his left side.

‘I should organise to take her to one of the safe houses,’ Rio whispered.

‘Too obvious. The hitter might already be on that trail. He found out about where she lived pretty quickly, so there’s no reason he can’t do the same for a safe house. It needs to be somewhere totally off the radar. A place only a few people are going to know about.’

Rio leaned closer to him. ‘Yeah, but if
you
know you’re going to go blowing it into Foster’s ear.’

Calum shoved a mock-shock look onto his face. ‘You’re the one, sweetheart, who said to leave the bullshit drama outside the door.’

‘I ain’t your sweetheart.’

He leaned his mouth close to her face, his heated breath coating her skin. ‘Think the law might have something different to say about that.’

A stubborn silence rose between them, each mentally daring the other to step through the door he’d banged wide open.

Calum pulled his head back, firmly closing the door again. ‘OK, cards on the table about what I’m doing for Foster: he wants me to use my contacts to find the gang and it seems to me that your suggestion that we team up is the best way for that to happen.’

Rio reared back like boiling water was heading for her face. ‘This is an official investigation which will be done officially . . .’

‘Like going into a potentially dangerous situation in downtown Peckham without backup?’

Rio twisted her lips. ‘That was a one-off, which paid off.’ Her glance slid to the room where her traumatised charge was. She needed help; couldn’t do this on her own. But Calum? With so much crap strewn between them, was she crazy to even think of him? But Stephen Foster had already involved him. So had she. If she kept him in plain sight she’d know every move he was making. What was that saying – oh yeah – keep your friends close and your enemies even closer.

‘Deal. We’ll both keep her safe. The only other people who will know where she is are DSI Newman and Jack Strong—’

‘Jack ‘‘boys only’’ Strong?’ Calum looked incredulous. ‘You are kidding.’

‘Wish I was. It’s a long story I’ll tell you when we take Nikki to a place she’ll be safe.’

‘Which is where?’

‘Somewhere even you don’t know about.’

11:30 p.m.

Nikki’s place of safety turned out to be a house in one of London’s most expensive districts: Notting Hill, West London. It wasn’t one of those plush, grand old houses that the area was well known for, but a three-bed mews house tucked around the corner from the All Saints Road.

‘You going to tell me where
this
is?’ Calum asked. Nikki was sandwiched between him and Rio outside. The girl held a black, lime-green handled holdall that she’d packed when she’d taken off to her boyfriend’s.

As Rio opened up she answered, ‘My mum’s home. Now mine and my brother’s since she passed away three months ago.’

Calum whistled. ‘If I knew that you were sitting on a pile of cash I might’ve . . .’

His words dribbled away at the hard stare she threw him. Although the place had been empty since her mum’s death Rio came over once a week to keep it dust free. People kept telling her to sort through her mother’s things as quickly as possible after the funeral, but she hadn’t had the heart to do it, so the home Ruthie Wray had loved so much remained untouched.

Rio popped the small hallway light on. She soaked up the emotional warmth of the house, as she always did. The red-leaf wallpaper resembled tacky wrapping paper and the green flowered carpet was an interior designer’s nightmare, but to Rio they were filled with memories of happy times.

As Nikki let out a long yawn Rio told her, ‘You can have my old bedroom—’

‘This I have to see,’ Calum interrupted.

‘No, this is a girl thing,’ Rio quickly got in. ‘Wait in the kitchen. You’ll find the coffee in the cupboard near the cooker. I take mine—’

‘No milk.’

Rio stared after Calum as he made his way to the kitchen in that precise, even step movement he’d developed from whatever damage had been done to his right leg. He’d remembered about her being lactose intolerant, which meant – she realised with an involuntary thrill – that he hadn’t been able to push her completely from his mind in the last three years.

She reached the bedroom with Nikki. She hadn’t wanted Calum to see the room because it was too personal: this was the small space where she’d grown up, crafted herself into the woman she was today. Who knew what Calum would figure out about her if he popped his head round the door? The room wasn’t too big, wasn’t too small, just the perfect size for a girl learning how to spread her wings.

Rio shook off the comforting nostalgia as she turned back to Nikki. ‘I’ll get you a towel, show you how the shower works and then it’s beddy-bye time for you my girl.’ Rio paused, looking deeply into the girl’s eyes. ‘I’m really so very sorry about your mum and dad.’

Nikki’s teeth played nervously against her bottom lip. Then she swiftly moved her gaze from Rio to the mahogany chest of drawers near the single bed. The teen didn’t speak. Sorrow was such a killer of an emotion. Abruptly Nikki started to move towards the chest of drawers, then picked up the solitary item that rested on top of it.

Shit. She’d meant to stash that away.

‘Is that you with your mum?’ Nikki asked as she held out the small picture frame.

Rio moved slowly forwards. When she was close enough she peered at the photo the frame held.

Mum. Her: twelve years old. And . . .

She didn’t even want to look at the other person; that meant becoming intimately involved in a past she’d long let go.

‘Yeah. That was taken in the sitting room a couple of days after I turned twelve.’

‘Did your dad take the picture? Is that why he’s not in the photo?’

Rio pulled the photo gently from the girl’s hand. ‘Nope. He wasn’t the stay-at-home type of dad. He was long gone by the time that snap was taken.’

‘And the little boy in the picture?’

Rio refused to look at the photo. Instead she opened the top drawer of the chest of drawers. ‘That’s my younger brother.’

‘What’s his name?’

Rio placed the photo very gently on the bottom of the lavender scented drawer.

Rio didn’t feel like lying this time. ‘Frederick.’

She slammed the drawer shut.

Fifteen minutes later, Nikki was tucked up in bed and Rio was sitting at the small table in the kitchen facing her one-time good friend and fleeting lover, a mug of milk-free coffee between her palms. Her bag lay carelessly thrown on the floor by her leg.

‘How many people know about this place?’ Calum asked. His green gaze appeared sleepy, his skin more pale than usual, as if he were in pain.

Rio rubbed the pads of her thumb along the smooth hardness of the mug. ‘Just the people who I told you officially need to know, that I mentioned earlier, and a handful of my relatives. Most of my people live in Sheffield, so there won’t be any surprise calls.’ She hesitated a few seconds before speaking again because she knew what she was about to say wouldn’t go down well. ‘I’m going to need someone here all of the time—’

Calum’s eyes widened as he shook his head. ‘Nooo waaay. Babysitting is defo not part of the services I provide. Assign Jack Strong to hand-holding patrol.’