Page 24 of The Truth Will Out
3
Claire tapped at her keyboard, the glow of the screen casting her face in ghostly hues. The station was quiet. The clock on the wall ticked towards nine forty in the evening. She had worked far longer than she’d anticipated. The rest of the team had gone home hours ago, but she had volunteered to stay behind because she liked the solitude. It gave her space to think.
An email popped into her inbox.
Subject:You Missed Something
From: Unknown
She frownedand reread the message a few times. The thing that surprised her more than anything was that it wasn’t routed through the Force’s secure channels. It had come from a basic email account—one that she had a feeling would prove to be untraceable.
The message was briefand to the point:
You’re smart,Claire. Smarter than most. That’s why I picked you.
But during your research, you overlooked something important. Do you want answers?
Meet me at Whitehaven Harbour. 10:15 p.m. Come alone.
She stared at it,her heart pounding. Her instincts screamed that she was being set up, or that this could be a trap. But another part of her—the part that had been itching at something for the past few days—was hooked.Sam is going to kill me for not contacting her, but the message told me to come alone.
Her mind made up, she grabbed her coat and slipped out of the station unnoticed, since the reception area had long been empty.
The harbour was deserted,bathed in the dim glow of half-working streetlights and the occasional flicker from the nearby moored boats. The wind carried the scent of seaweed and salt.
Trepidation filled Claire as she crept along the water’s edge, every nerve on high alert as she peered into the shadows.
Footsteps sounded on the concrete behind her.
She turned, her hand instinctively brushing her coat pocket in search of her phone. But it wasn’t there. Then she realised she’d left it back at the station, charging on her desk.
It was too late to regret that decision now.
“I came,” she called out, trying to sound confident, eager to see who was there. “You wanted to talk? Come out and show yourself.”
Silence filled the air.
A flash of something metallic caught her eye. She stepped forward to satisfy her curiosity and bent down to pick up a USB stick, partially wrapped in electrical tape. She reached for it but stopped when a whispered voice said, “You were close. So very close.”
She spun one hundred and eighty degrees, ready to confront the individual. A figure emerged from the shadows, hooded and gloved.
“You?”
The person didn’t speak. Instead, they lunged towards her.
Claire put up a good fight. Years on the force had taught her to be quick. She dodged most of the assailant’s blows, except the one that landed on the back of her head. It had been swift and heavy, with a sense of finality.
Feeling the wind knocked out of her, she slumped onto the slipway. Blood seeped into the cracks of the concrete beneath her, crimson in her blurred vision. A sinking sensation swept through her. She was incapacitated, unable to move or even fight back. The USB stick, taunting her, lay just out of her grasp.
The figure towered over her, then crouched beside her and whispered something menacingly in her ear, “You should have stayed behind that desk of yours. There’s a reason DI Cobbs doesn’t trust you out in the field.”
The person laughed, then skulked away and disappeared into the darkness, leaving her wondering what her fate would be. Would she be discovered by a passerby? She doubted it. She hoped she’d still be alive in the morning, but the likelihood of that happening was slipping fast.
Either way, she suspected the tide would already have taken what little evidence her attacker might have left behind, making it impossible to find them. This was her all-important final thought as the darkness consumed her.
4
Sam’s phone vibrated on the bedside table. Sleepily, she picked it up and stared at the screen. It was only ten past six, fifty minutes before her alarm was set to go off. She sat up and answered it. “DI Sam Cobbs. This better be good.”
