Jazz and Die (22 page)

I
think I was asleep before James was even out of the door. When I awoke some hours later, I could have discovered the time by putting on the television, but that didn’t occur to me. My first thought was more tea, wash my hair, more sleep, in that order. It was very therapeutic.

Hunger also came to mind. One cheese sandwich and two oatmeal biscuits were hardly sufficient to nourish a growing girl. I doubted if Travelodge did room service. I could hardly phone out for a pizza. We’d run out of those fiddly little milk cartons so it was black tea and black coffee.

Perhaps a girl would come to ‘refresh’ the hospitality tray as they so quaintly put it these days. I didn’t know that James had put the
Do Not Disturb
sign on the door handle. I didn’t dare draw the curtains to see what the world was doing outside. A peek through the merest chink between folds told me that it was high tide and the waves were thrashing the shingle. How I wished I was down there, in my bare feet, letting the cold water trickle through my toes, dodging the unexpected crab.

I put on the television. I needed the time.

The only book to read was a shiny Travelodge brochure extolling the virtues of their chain of hotels. I was halfway through it when I heard a key in the lock and a deep voice.

‘It’s James. With provisions.’

‘Enter James with provisions.’

I was still so scared, I ran to stand behind the door, the remote
control of the television in my hand ready to conk any unfamiliar head.

James strolled in and shut the door. He looked at the remote. ‘Didn’t know you were hooked on the soaps.’

‘It’s all that pub food,’ I said, putting the remote down.

‘I promise you a decent pub lunch as soon as this is all over,’ he said. ‘And it will be over soon. But for the time being, this is the best I can do.’

I pounced on the plastic bag he was carrying in a less than ladylike manner. Food from the Garden of Eden. Some apples, oranges, a ready-made prawn salad, some cheese scones and a packet of butter.

‘Unfortunately this is not all for you,’ he said, unwrapping the plastic cutlery that came with the salad. ‘I bought this lot at your downstairs supermarket while they were fixing the door upstairs.’

‘Fixing the door? Which door? Why?’

‘The battering ram made a bit of damage. And the flat doesn’t belong to Roger Cody. We don’t want to be sued. We are also removing all your ingenious entrapments. You certainly had some bright ideas considering the lack of useful items.’

I let the compliment swim over my head. James handed me a fork. He was using the knife to spread butter on the cheese scones.

‘Why was it empty? Are all the flats on that floor empty?’

‘Everyone has moved out for a month. They are doing some reconstruction work on the balconies. Some of them are showing signs of concrete stress.’

‘Is my balcony showing concrete stress?’ I was alarmed.

‘No, your floor has been tested and is OK. It’s only the floor nearest to the supermarket. So, of course, health and safety have moved in.’

‘Why did you say it would soon be all over?’

‘You know that Cody has been trying to barter your safety for the whereabouts of Maddy Peters? Now since we have no idea where Chuck and his daughter are now, it isn’t going to work. So
we are guessing that he will either leave you in the second-floor flat to die of hunger, or he will come back to finish you off.’

‘Charming.’

‘We arranged twice to meet him with false information but he never turned up.’

‘Is this supposed to ruin my appetite?’

‘Don’t talk. Just eat. I haven’t much time.’

‘So tell me, Detective Chief Inspector James, how is this all going to end, and when?’ I nearly added, love of my life, but decided it wasn’t appropriate.

‘We shall be waiting in the second-floor flat, a couple of officers and myself. We’ll set up a trap. As soon as Roger Cody enters, we shall arrest him. And we’ll have men not just in the flat. I shall have men in the car park and on the stairs, near the lift. End of story.’

The tiny pink prawn from Thailand or wherever was delicious but my brain was still working. I’d read something about the eating habits of prawns.

‘Cody will know it’s a booby trap. He’ll smell it a mile off. That man is not stupid. There has to be some evidence that it’s not a trap, and I suppose that evidence is me. I have to be still there, on the floor, strung up, as he left me. Otherwise he won’t come in. Come on, James, you know that’s right. You have to have bait.’

‘This is not how it’s planned.’

‘Re-plan it. I know what I’m talking about.’

‘You are not going to be involved.’

‘Then he’ll run. One look at an empty flat and he’ll be off on his motorbike, conveniently parked on the other side of the wall.’

‘No way. We’ve got the motorbike. We have the car park under surveillance. He can’t get in or out.’

‘Supposing he’s already there, watching you?’

‘All our men are in plain clothes. Cleaners, collecting rubbish, the postman.’

‘He could be two floors up, in my flat.’ The thought gave me cold shivers. I would have to move out. I could not bear to live there. He might have trashed the place.

‘Don’t worry, Jordan,’ said James, reading my mind, as he often did. ‘Your flat is safe and secured. Nothing has been touched. We found the door open and an empty pizza box. There is a constable on duty outside, making sure he doesn’t return. Cody would expect us to put a watch on your flat.’

‘Thank you,’ I said weakly, spearing another prawn. ‘But you do need me if he is to walk into your trap. He needs to see me where he left me, trussed up on the floor.’

‘No way.’

‘I don’t need to be tied up; just a bit of window cord artistically arranged so that it looks as if I’m tied up. You know it makes sense, James.’

James finished the other cheese scone. He obviously liked them. Perhaps I should learn the recipe. It couldn’t be too difficult. Besides, I had a proper kitchen now. I ought to be able to do proper cooking.

He was on his phone. ‘Save a few bits of that window cord,’ he was saying. ‘Put them in the linen cupboard, out of sight. I’ll be along as soon as it gets dark. After the last rendezvous.’

‘What rendezvous?’ I asked.

‘No more questions. Get some sleep, sleepy-head. It might be a long night.’

It was growing dark before James came back for me. He was holding another carrier bag but he kept it out of my reach. He was turning into a domestic shopper.

‘This is to stave off our midnight starvation,’ he said. ‘Time to go.’

‘Am I to be the bait then?’

He flinched. He would not look at me. ‘Don’t make me change my mind.’

I grabbed my few possessions and packed them in the plastic liner of the bathroom waste bin. Somehow my rucksack had gone the way of old rucksacks with my clean underwear.

‘How am I going to get out of here without being seen?’

‘There’s a staff back entrance. We’ll use that.’

‘Then?’

‘We’ll walk along the front like any other couple out on a date. Romantic, carefree, eyes only for each other.’ It sounded too good to be true.

This was a totally new side of DCI James. ‘Can you do romantic and carefree?’ I asked.

‘I’ve been practising.’

I hoped not with the Gorgon. Then I remembered Tom Lucas and was stricken with remorse. He had been such a pleasant man. He didn’t deserve such an awful death. Still, maybe he had been with his beloved pigs and he had saved his wife. That might have been some measure of comfort.

‘Let’s go catch him,’ I said, unable to keep the bitterness out of my voice.

The cool night air was bliss on my unmoisturised face. James had pushed a cap on my head that hid my giveaway tawny plaited hair. I tucked my arm into his, swinging the bathroom plastic bag on the other. Our thighs touched occasionally. I could have walked forever, say at least to Hove and back.

‘Is this carefree enough?’ I asked.

‘You’re doing fine,’ he said.

‘When do we get to the romantic bit?’

‘How about now?’

He turned and kissed me, a sort of light but meaningful kiss. Nothing chaste about it but also not overly passionate. It was acceptable for a street-side kiss, not in broad daylight, but in growing darkness. I could see a crescent moon. It was supposed to be lucky to see the new moon but I had no money to turn over.

‘We’ll have to assume the eyes only for each other bit now,’ he said, drawing away. He sounded a bit breathless. I remembered past days when he had rescued me. Did he know how much I cared for him? ‘If we are to keep walking.’

‘Not easy without genuine practice,’ I said.

‘Needs time.’

‘Lots of time.’

We had reached the front entrance to the flats. There was
a tramp lighting a cigarette, leaning against the supermarket railing. Across the road was a courting couple waiting at the 700 bus stop. Some youngsters were playing ball on the beach. Several cars were in the nearby parking spaces.

They all looked like coppers to me.

James keyed in the door code and showed me into the lift. A cleaner in green overalls was vacuuming the foyer carpet. She had a box of cleaning materials.

‘Overtime?’ said James.

‘Overtime,’ she said, biting back the
sir
.

We went to the second floor. Now I was getting the jitters. Supposing Cody was already there, waiting to pounce? James had me firmly by the arm.

‘Don’t let me down now, Jordan,’ he said quietly. ‘We can’t put the lights on. Everywhere will be dark, only the light from the street below. But you are not alone. You are in no danger. No vertigo. Be brave.’

The door had been repaired where they had battered in the lock. The police had obtained a set of keys from the leasing agents. James used one of these now to let us in. Then he locked the door behind us. I was beginning to shake. I was terrified.

‘Come and meet the gang,’ he said.

The small bedroom was crowded. Three men, all police officers, were sitting on the carpet, trying to play cards by street light. It was not easy. They were wearing flak jackets. Helmets and guns and a pile of other stuff were on the floor.

‘Hi,’ said James, keeping his voice down low. ‘This is Jordan, heroine of the hour, about to re-enact her ordeal. Give her space, try not to frighten her, reassure her of our protection.’ He turned to me. ‘Are you feeling better now?’

They stood up, all tough young men, nodding, shaking my hand. I was very reassured. James put the food down on the floor.

‘We shall be next door in the original hostage room. Half of this food is for you, half for us. Take your choice. Use the bathroom only when necessary and silently. I want no noise or movement whatsoever. Cody may come back any time.’

‘Right, guv.’ It was a whisper.

James found the bits of rescued window cord coiled onto a shelf of the linen cupboard. He also had the police blanket which had shrouded me when I left the station yesterday. Was it yesterday? I had no idea of the day or the time. Had life once been that easy? Had I listened to jazz half the night, walked Maddy back to the hotel from parties? Had we played shop, lost money at the amusement arcade? It was all a dream.

I showed James how Cody had tied me. Wrists together behind my back, ankles together, then the two joined by another excruciatingly painful cord laced between them. It had a name but I didn’t know what it was.

‘Not really tying you up,’ he whispered into my ear, winding cord round wrists and ankles, separately and loosely. ‘You will only need to look as if they are strung up behind your back.’

‘There’s no electricity,’ I said.

‘The street lighting is enough to illuminate the room if he comes back now. I reckon he’ll wait till dawn when the supermarket deliveries make all that racket. Here’s some apple juice for you and some blueberry muffins if you get hungry in the night. You’re into healthy food, aren’t you?’

‘Got to keep healthy.’

James folded the blanket under my head, then to make things even more perfect, he lay beside me like a spoon, sharing the end of the blanket, one arm holding me, as if making sure no one was ever going to touch me again. I could have stayed that way forever.

It was not the most romantic of nights but it would have to do. I know James left me a couple of times to go into the bedroom, checking that if two of the back-up slept, one kept awake. He used his phone in the bathroom, which was the most insulated room as far as light and noise were concerned.

Everything and everyone were in place. We only had to wait.

‘Not long now,’ he whispered into my ear, curling up beside me. ‘You are being very brave. Nothing will happen to you. We
are all here.’

‘I don’t want to die.’

‘You aren’t going to die. I promised you a pub lunch. I’m looking forward to it. We’ll have a great time.’

Dawn began its icy-fingered advance. No blinds hung at the windows. Would Cody notice that the blinds had gone? It wouldn’t matter if he did. He was walking into a trap.

James stretched out his long legs on the floor. ‘Damned hard floor,’ he groaned. ‘Ghastly orange carpet.’ He stood up and put the carrier bag behind the door. He removed the blanket. ‘Sorry, it has to go,’ he said. That went behind the door, too.

Then he arranged me on the floor, like a doll, so that Cody would see me the moment he came into the sitting room, facing him, but he would not see that my wrists and ankles were not joined or tied up.

James gave me a drink of juice, taking it away afterwards and putting it on the floor, out of sight.

‘Whatever happens, keep still. He must not know that you are free. I shall be here with you, standing behind the door. The other three will cut off his retreat. He can’t get out onto the balcony.’

James was putting on a flak jacket. They all had flak jackets except me.

‘Supposing he knifes me?’ I whimpered. Jordan Lacey, private investigator, had stopped being brave. So much for heroics. So much for vertigo. I could cope with that.

‘I’ll shoot him.’