‘Don’t give me that look Daniel. You want to help, get me a drink.’
He did, handing her a beer from the fridge and taking one for himself.
Sarah sipped at the beer quietly for a while and then she upended the bottle and drained it quickly.
‘I set it all up. Wednesday.’
‘You spoke to him?’ Campbell asked, with a note of surprise. His eyes were wide and he sat staring at her in amazement.
‘You asked me to didn’t you?’
‘Yeah sure, but…’
‘But nothing. Don’t fuck it up,’ she said and sat up. ‘I need a shower.’
‘George rang.’
She was at the doorway with her back to him. She stopped but did not turn.
‘The guy in Cornwall anything to do with him?’ she asked.
‘No. Like I said, not their type at all. George says it was someone else.’
‘Who else?’ Her back was still turned.
‘Whoever it is wants the memory stick.’ Campbell told her what he had heard from Gresham earlier that afternoon about being paid to break in, told what to steal. ‘Someone else is pulling the strings. Maybe one of Horner’s old shady business associates is after him. Maybe he messed with the wrong shitbag. Point is George is just a lackey. Hired help.’
‘That doesn’t really help us does it?’
‘No,’ Campbell replied. ‘I don’t think there’s anything he can do about this other guy. He takes orders. Kind of a one-way deal.’
Sarah took a deep breath and nodded. Then she was gone.
Campbell sat down in the armchair and picked absently at the label on the beer bottle, staring into space. He listened to the sounds from the bathroom as the water hissed and splashed and wondered what to do next.
As scared as he had been since the whole thing had begun, Campbell still had not lost hope. At first it had just seemed like a strange and unfortunate situation to be in but as everything had snowballed the fear had driven him on, given him strength and determination.
Now though, he was beginning to think that he was out of his depth, that he should never have run or put up a fight or tried to do things himself. What was he thinking calling a man like Gresham those kinds of things? How could he have involved Sarah like this?
He thought about the morning of the burglary, the two policeman that had come to his flat. Professional, sympathetic men. DCI Samuel, wasn’t that the name? And didn’t he have his number somewhere? The man had left a card.
He lay back on the sofa and he thought about what he had asked Sarah to do that day, what, indeed, she told him she had done. Don’t fuck it up. He pondered the chances of his success, of what he would have to do, how persuasive, how convincing, how brave and resolute he would have to be, and how downright lucky too. He thought again of DCI Samuel.
He needed a Plan B.
51
Tuesday. 12.30am.
He had made her park the car a couple of streets away but he was not able to convince her to stay there and wait for him, just as he had failed to make her stay at home.
Having heard the tone of Gresham’s voice that day, Campbell finally knew that they were on their own and that they were up against something and someone far more powerful and far more sinister than he could contend with any longer. He had tried to figure some way through the mess but at each turn he had become more deeply embroiled in it, more lost and isolated, more scared.
Sarah had suggested that they call the station to ask for Samuel or an off duty number if he wasn’t there but Campbell had refused point-blank. The indications that the people behind this had power and influence were still too strong. Any call to the station might be intercepted or they might arouse suspicion by asking for a personal contact number. No, safer to wait until Samuel was likely to be well out of the station and then call, demand secrecy, some sign that they could trust him before they involved him and then, perhaps, turn themselves in.
Campbell had decided nothing yet. Samuel represented some hope in a bleak scenario but there was no guarantee that hope would become concrete. He might be a useful back-up to have nonetheless and since there seemed to be nobody they could trust at the moment, just the thought of a sympathetic ear made him feel less desperate.
The first step would therefore be to go back, again, to Campbell’s flat where the policeman’s card was clipped to the fridge door by a magnet. Sarah had protested loudly that this was a crazy idea, that if there was anywhere that someone would be looking for them, or him, it would be there. Wasn’t there another way?
Not, he had explained, unless they wanted to while away yet more scared and stressful hours. This way, taking the correct precautions, they could speak to Samuel that night, maybe meet with him the following day. As frightened as she appeared to be, Campbell could see that she had no wish to drag this out any longer. The incident in Cornwall had shaken her badly. Of course it had, it had shaken him too. But after the episode in Gresham’s lock-up it had perhaps come as less of a surprise. For Sarah, who was just beginning to comprehend the scale of the situation, to be faced with such a brutal, terrifying demonstration of its reality must have been almost unbearable. The news that Gresham was unable to help them must have robbed her of the last scrap of hope that she had.
Now they approached the rear of Campbell’s flat through an alleyway. They would clamber over his garden wall and go in the back door since walking right up to the front door was obviously insane. They could of course be watching both entrances but this was the lesser of two evils and so essentially, was their only choice.
‘If any of the neighbours stick their head out the window, I’ll say I lost my front door key,’ Campbell said. ‘But at this hour, I doubt we’ll see anyone.’
Sarah nodded, too tense now to speak.
They stopped at the wall, where the brickwork reached Campbell’s chin. He watched the darkened windows all along the row of houses on either side. There were some lights on too but he could see no signs of movement. Sarah, several inches shorter and in flat shoes, could see little, even raised on her toes.
‘You’ll have to go first,’ he said.
She looked at him, open mouthed and panic in her eyes.
‘You’re smaller, so I’ll have to help you up.’
‘I’m not going in first,’ She told him and her tone was emphatic. He thought about arguing but realised that it was pointless. He had wasted long enough trying to make her stay at home or wait in the car earlier on. If this girl said it, she meant it.
‘Fine, you stay in the alleyway and wait on your own then,’ Campbell replied and hoisted himself up onto the wall.
As he swung a leg up and over he manoeuvred himself into a sitting position and then swivelled round to see if he could help pull her up. Sarah, however, had both feet planted on the brickwork and her hands clamped on the top of the wall. Campbell watched in silence as she scrambled up, hooked a leg over and swung herself onto the wall next to him.
Smiling, Campbell swung his other leg over and dropped onto the grass below. Sarah was standing next to him in a moment, close at his back, a hand gripped his arm gently.
Moving to the back door, Sarah in tow, Campbell resolved to get things done as fast as he could. There were no sounds or signs of life that he could detect and he had no wish to hang around here any longer than he needed to. Oddly enough, for all Sarah’s obvious nerves and fear, Campbell was finding that it was her strength that was keeping him going. For the hundred reasons she should have crumbled by now, the times that she might have just turned and fled, here she was, still at his side as they walked back into possible danger.
He opened the door and they stepped inside. It was cold but the heating would have been off at this time. Even so, as his breath clouded in front of his face, Campbell felt uneasy. They stood listening intently for a minute to the complete quiet in the flat.