Last Gasp (19 page)

Making his way along the echoing
corridor that runs past the public reception area, Carver was going through the
to-do list in his head when, from behind, he heard, ‘MR CARVER’ He turned to
see Graham Dodd, one of the Volunteer Reception Clerks, hanging out of the door
of the reception office. ‘There’s someone here to see you.’ Dodd nodded to
indicate behind him in way Carver thought was a bit, over-conspiratorial.

As he retraced his steps, he struggled to think who he knew
could be waiting for him at this early an hour. And as he squeezed between the
clerk and the door, the older man whispered in his ear.

‘She’s been here since three o’clock. The night staff told
her you wouldn’t be in ‘til now, but she said she’d wait.’

Stepping through, Carver saw the slight figure, bundled up
in a black parka with the hood pulled low, curled up across a couple of the
blue metal seats. He couldn’t see her face. He didn’t need to. The sight
brought one word to mind. He whispered it to himself.

‘Shit.’

Ten minutes later Carver returned to
his office bearing two coffees, to find her checking out the only photograph he
was ever minded to display wherever he worked. It was the one of his Initial
Police Training Class. It helps to remember where you come from.

As she turned to take the plastic cup off him, Kayleigh Lee
said. ‘You look funny in uniform.’

‘That’s why I went for CID.’

She made a, ‘Ha-ha,’ face, but he didn’t respond to it. She
needed to know he wasn’t pleased with her. He made a point of leaving his door
wide open, then motioned her to the chair facing his desk. She chose the one to
his right instead. He stifled the sigh.

‘Rita’s on her way. She’ll be here soon.’ She pulled a face.
‘It’s no good looking like that. I can’t do anything for you.’

‘You can do something about him.’

‘I can’t make someone be a good father. I deal with
criminals’

‘You think he’s not a criminal? I can give you plenty of-’

‘You know that’s not what I mean. I’m not going to see the
project fail because your Dad’s done a bit of thieving and drugs in his time.’

‘Whatever. I’m not staying there anymore. They’re all doing
my head in.’

‘It’s your home. They’re your family.’

She gave a derisive snort, looked away. He let her stew.

Eventually she turned back. She gave him a defiant stare.

‘I’m not going back.’

‘Where else will you go?’

‘Dunno. But not there.’

 ‘You’re fifteen. You can’t live on your own.’

‘I’ve been living on my own all my life. I’ll be a lot
better off without them all round my neck.’

Carver met her gaze, saying nothing. Inside he felt guilty.
She was so right.

Suddenly she smiled. ‘I’ve got an idea.’

‘What?’

‘I could come and live with you.’

He didn’t return the smile.

He hoped Rita wouldn’t be long.

‘I did warn you.’ The look in Rita
Arogundade’s face wasn’t sympathetic. ‘At her age they can be really clever,
and really dangerous. Now she’s seeing you as the person who can take her away
from all the crap in her life.’

Carver looked round. They were in the canteen, the far
corner table. He kept his voice low. ‘Bloody hell, Rita. You make it sound like
I’ve been grooming her or something.’ ‘Have you?’

Carver froze, like he’d been slapped. ‘What’s that supposed
to mean?’

‘It means men like you aren’t good at dealing with girls
like her. That’s why you get in trouble. You’re all too naïve.’

‘Naïve? I’m a fucking DCI for God’s sake. I deal with
murderers, rapists and robbers. How can I be naive?’

Rita gave a self-satisfied look. ‘How many of those rapists,
murderers and robbers were fifteen-year old girls?’

He saw her point. ‘Right. That settles it. As from now I’m
off the project. You’ll have to find someone else.’

‘That’s not the answer.’

‘It is for me.’

‘But not for the Lees, and not for Kayleigh. You’re the only
cop I’ve met prepared to support what we’re trying to do. You’re the only
reason Kayleigh hasn’t gone before. If you go, Kayleigh will go, and that will
be that. I need you to stay on board’

‘How will that work? You’ve more or less just said it’s my
fault she sees me as her white knight.’

‘I didn’t say it was your fault. I just said you were
naïve.’

He threw his hands in the air. ‘Oh, right. So I just carry
on do I? And how’s that supposed to work when there’s a chance I walk into a
room one day and find her waiting for me, naked?’

‘You don’t encourage her. You stay professional.’

‘I haven’t been encouraging her. I’ve never encouraged her.’

‘Like I said, you might think you haven’t. Sometimes all
you’ve got to do is give the wrong sort of smile at the wrong time. Hormones do
the rest. It’s nothing new. Teachers deal with it all the time.’

‘Well I’m glad I’m not a bloody teacher.’

Rita almost smiled. They drank their coffee.

Eventually Carver said, ‘So what do we do?’

Rita put her mug down. ‘I’ll speak to her. She’ll go back.’

‘How can you be sure? What if she refuses?’

‘She won’t.’

‘How do you know?’

‘This was just a test, that’s all. When she realises it
hasn’t worked she’ll accept it. Deep down she loves her family and actually
wants to help them, though God alone knows why.’

Carver nodded. He sat back in his chair, relieved. ‘I’m glad
you’re involved Rita. We need someone like you.’

Rita stood up. ‘Just one thing.’

‘What?’

‘It won’t stop for a while yet. Eventually Kayleigh will get
over you and grow up. Until then, be on your guard.’

‘Great.’

Carver and Jess watched from the
window as Rita’s car, with Kayleigh in the passenger seat turned out the gate.
As it headed away down Arpley Street, Carver heaved a sigh of relief.

‘Thank God for that. I don’t know which is worse, dealing
with a fifteen-year-old girl, or someone like Megan Crane.’

Jess turned to him. ‘Any other time, I’d say the
fifteen-year-old. In Megan’s case I’m not so sure.’

Carver checked her. ‘Why’d you say that?’ For a moment he
thought she was about to tell him something.

‘Nothing really. Just instinct.’

Carver waited to see if something else was coming. It
didn’t. ‘Well if your instincts are right, then we’ve got no chance. I’m
struggling enough with Kayleigh.’

Jess gave a half smile. ‘She seems like a nice kid.’ She had
stayed with Kayleigh while Carver met with Rita.

‘That’s the problem. She is.’

Cosworth arrived at the Poplars at
seven-fifteen, as he’d been instructed. He parked his Porsche next to Megan’s
Mercedes soft-top before walking up to the front door and ringing the bell.
Megan kept him waiting some minutes before admitting him. Carver watched from
the confines of the Control Van secreted in her oversized garage. It nearly
hadn’t happened at all.

Up to thirty minutes before, Caver had been close to calling
an abort on the whole operation. Late in the afternoon they’d had to abandon
their plan to locate in the attic they’d agreed on earlier when the tech guys
finally gave up trying to identify the source of the interference blocking the
wireless signal needed to establish the vital coms link. ‘Must be something in
the material used in the house’s construction,’ the senior of the pair finally
reported to a frustrated Carver. By then he’d already put out the call for an
Ops Control Vehicle. He’d seen the changes in the faces of the two men as the
afternoon wore on and the various bits of kit they ferried in and out of the
house failed to sort the problem. It was sheer luck that a suitable vehicle
came free only in the afternoon when a planned Drugs Squad op didn’t run because
the intended subject had got himself knifed the night before. But it was close
to six when it finally rolled up the Poplars’ drive. Carver breathed a sigh of
relief when its roof proved just low enough to fit under the garage’s
up-and-over door. It meant demoting Megan’s Merc to the driveway for the night,
but that would mean nothing to Cosworth. The tech guys rescued some of their
credibility by getting the links up and running just as Carver was beginning to
think he’d have to call a halt after all. The OCV wasn’t as convenient – or
roomy – as the attic would have been, but it was recently refurbished, and more
comfortable than many he’d sat in for hours on end. It even had a water geyser
for hot drinks.

But in the few minutes to spare
before Cosworth’s arrival, and as the rest of the team took up their designated
positions and settled themselves – Jess, Shepherd and a Coms man in the van
with Carver, the rest at strategic points around the house and its approach -
Carver was conscious that he’d already failed in his first objective. The attic
would have meant no external doors between him and Megan which might, by some
unforeseen quirk, end up locked.

An hour later, as the ‘thwack’ of
leather on skin issued through the speaker, Carver didn’t let the responses of
those present distract him from his mission. From the moment Cosworth crossed
the threshold, Carver had focused on maintaining a mental picture of what was
happening within. If the moment came they had to act quickly, he didn’t want to
have to waste time thinking about the wheres and hows. Despite his focus, the
others’ reactions still registered.

Jess was least affected. She’d had the benefit of hearing
Megan describe how she intended to run the session and knew what to expect,
more or less. Still, Carver sensed her discomfort. It couldn’t be easy
maintaining a dispassionate calm while listening in to her first, ‘live’
Sub-Dom session in the company of three men.

Shepherd’s responses on the other hand, like the night in
the restaurant, were overblown. Early in proceedings, his ‘harrumphing’ seemed
intended to signal his low regard for what they were witnessing, as well as the
people involved. But once Megan moved the action to her Playroom, the tone of
the session became darker, more ‘hard-core’. Since then Shepherd’s expressions
of disgust had begun to sound increasingly forced. What did he expect for God’s
sake? Soft music and romance?

The fourth van-dweller was a DC by the name of Owen
Williams. Owen was as experienced as any Op Controller Carver knew. Yet even
the normally unflappable Welshman was struggling to remain unfazed by the
bizarre sounds emanating from the console in front of him. ‘Bugger me,’ was his
earthy response to witnessing Megan Crane’s transformation from
wary-but-willing ‘bait’, to full-on paddle-wielding Dominatrix.

Carver was conscious of something else. Jess was definitely
giving Shepherd the silent treatment. No eye contact either. It seemed he
wasn’t alone in having ‘issues’ with his fellow SIO. It was only the second
time he’d been in Shepherd’s company since he’d seen Angie, and was having to
work at not giving anything away. But he didn’t want anything to break until
he’d heard back from the former Superintendent and ex-colleague he’d spoken
with at the NCA. He hoped it would be soon. He was already wondering about his
decision to not say anything to The Duke. Nevertheless, he took some pleasure
from the fact that with his gangly frame, Shepherd was suffering the van’s
cramped confines more than the rest of them. Seeing Jess going through the
scarlet-covered Operational Order for ‘Operation Chaperone’ prompted him to
enquire again about the matter that wouldn’t go away.

‘You definitely told her to make sure to leave the back door
unlocked?'

Jess shot him an impatient look. 'You’ve asked me that
already. Several times. She knows. Stop worrying.'

Carver returned to his listening.

The scene being played out in Megan Crane’s ‘Playroom’ was
based around the stern headmistress/naughty schoolboy fantasy, common in the SM
world. Megan was clearly familiar with it and had slipped easily into her role,
dispensing verbal humiliations and chastisements that fitted perfectly. She had
a way of making even the most mundane transgression sound like a capital
offence.

'Look at my floor, you miserable worm. You’ve scuffed it.
When I told you to crawl to me I didn’t tell you to ruin my floor did I?'

'No Mistress. I’m sorry Mistress. Would Mistress like me to
clean it up?'

'You’ll clean it up alright, but first you need to be
punished. Bend over. Drop your trousers.'

'Yes Mistress.' The clink of a belt-buckle spoke of his
compliance.

Over the next few minutes, as Megan had continued to
verbally abuse her ‘pupil’ Carver struggled to interpret the string of
background noises that accompanied her admonishments. Shuffles, footsteps,
bangs, heavy breathing, groans, clinks and clunks all spoke to activity taking
place. Carver tried but failed to visualise what was happening. He looked
across at Jess. She returned an empty shrug.
No idea!
Eventually, bit by
bit, the noises died away, becoming fainter until they seemed to stop
altogether. Inside the van an eerie silence descended as everyone held their
breath. After several seconds a loud ‘click’ was followed by the sound of a
door, opening, then closing.

'What’s happening?' Shepherd said. Carver shook his head,
frowning. Moments before, Megan Crane had been berating Cosworth, telling him
it was time to step up his punishment.

'Come over here,' they’d heard her say. 'I’m going to make
sure you are properly restrained.' It had been followed by the sound of buckles
and straps, being made ready. But now it had gone quiet.

For a full minute the group strained to listen. But while
they could still hear sounds of movement, conversation had ceased.

'What’s she doing?' Jess said.

Then the noises began again. More buckles and straps. Heavy
breathing. Then Megan’s voice, but in the background, indistinct.

'Anyone catch that?' Carver asked. They all shook their
heads.

It had now been several minutes since Megan’s running
commentary had stopped. Carver turned to Owen Williams. 'We’re dual-recording
aren’t we?' Owen nodded. 'Rewind the copy to when it went quiet.'

Owen’s face registered his concern. 'But it’ll invalidate-.'

'Do it.'

It took Owen a couple of attempts to find the right spot,
but eventually he hit the ‘play’ button. Megan’s voice, harsh and brittle,
sounded over the loudspeaker.

'…need more severe punishment. Come over here. I’m going to
make sure you are properly restrained.'

'There.' Carver jabbed a finger at the point where things
went quiet. After several seconds’ silence he said, 'Run it through again,
Owen. But turn the volume right up.'

Owen complied and they listened again. But this time they
heard something, just before things went quiet. A faint squeal, like a cry of
surprise, cut short. It was followed by grunting and quick and heavy breathing,
followed by something that sounded like the thud of something hitting the
floor. Carver rose out of his seat.

'Come forward, to where we hear her again.'

Owen cued the tape. For a moment, there was the noise they’d
listened to, movement and heavy breathing. Then Megan’s voice, slurred, but
recognisable.

'Wha… What are you doing?' It was followed by a muffled,
'Mmmphhgghh.'

'Oh Jesus,' Jess said, realising. But before she could do
anything, Carver’s arm shot out and his finger hit the ‘transmit’ button.

‘FROM GOLD. ABORT-CODE-RED. STRIKE-STRIKE-STRIKE.’

Then he turned, kicked the van doors open, and leaped out
into the darkness.