The Girl Who Tweeted Wolf (9 page)

No sign of the police or Hobson. She considered calling him to check in, when the lift started up with a hiss. Fear leapt straight back up her neck to squeeze her brain tight. She looked at the indicators up top, and confirmed it was lowering towards her. Well, she figured, probably Hobson coming back down — the lazy old man figured out how to switch it on, so cut out the effort of walking down the stairs.

Yeah, that’d be it. But still, as the lift closed in on the reception floor, Angelina’s feet were twitching, wanting to flee or leap back behind Jacq’s desk.

The lift squeaked to a halt, and its flower-painted doors began to open. Angelina hoped that growl was her stomach.

*****

Smashing his way down the stairs, sending an echo through the Inspiration Gestation Station with every jump, Hobson smeared blood everywhere. Ellie would be furious about this mess, absolutely enraged, but she could wait her turn. If the dog was hiding in the lift and ripped Choi to pieces while he was looking after her, he was
fucked
.

Not only had he left her alone to chase a fight, he hadn’t even found anything useful.

Hobson leapt down from the second floor and put a stomp into his landing, trying to shake himself out of this funk. He smashed down, barely a foot from the gooey corpse of Matt. Pure luck he hadn’t pulped one of the dead legs. As it was, Hobson’s torso dipped to shock-absorb his landing, and he inhaled a gory stench that turned his stomach.

Standing back up, he slowed for a minute, clinging to the wall as he skirted around the body. At last, he resumed his headlong kamikaze dive down the remaining stairs.

His boots were so slippery with blood, his grip on the floor slid away during his last take-off. The landing still worked, although with definite stickiness when he pulled his feet up again.

Hobson wrenched the door at the bottom open and rushed out, ready to fight his wolf.

*****

Angelina thought about running, but it seemed pointless. The lift doors were half open before she reached even that conclusion. As the nauseous shudder travelled up her throat and became a mouthful of retch, she realised the growling sound was her stomach rumbling after all.

Angelina stepped forward, shaking as a tumbling mane of brown curly hair and hippy knitwear stumbled forward out of the lift, tripping over its own feet. At last, it looked up at her and gasped. There was blood rolling off her forehead, staining her hair and sleeves. Seemed you weren’t anybody tonight unless you were dripping with human fluid.

“Jacq!” Angelina hesitated though, and for a second too long.

As Jacq Miller’s legs finally caved in, Angelina grabbed her under the arms and tried to keep her upright. Unfortunately, Angelina was a slight teenager and Jacq weighed more than a toddler, so both ended up staggering backwards until they hit the desk and fell over.

She felt a flush as the wooden edge jarred into her head. Not only did that
hurt
, Jacq’s head wound dripped blood onto her Day Two blouse.

As they slumped together by the desk, there was
another
loud bang from the corner of the room, and Angelina nearly kneed Jacq in the face. It was only Hobson, making an unnecessary amount of noise opening the stairwell door.

“Choi!” He rushed over and levered Jacq up with one arm, propping her against the desk. “You alright?”

“I’m fine, I think.” She glanced behind him. “Your boots are covered in blood, what happened?”

“Oh. Fuck. Never mind that, what’s
she
doing here?”

“Not sure.” Angelina sighed after Jacq stayed silent. “I already called the police though, they’ll find out.”

“You did
what?

“Called the police. Was I not meant to?”

“No! Well, yes, but… just get her to talk, Choi.”

“I’m not sure she’s up to it, though.”

Undeterred, Hobson pointed towards the floor next to Jacq. “Choi. You’ve been making friends with these people, you’re on their wanky wavelength. Get the fuck down there and find out what she knows before Ellie gets here and swoops her away.”

“Who’s Ellie?”

“Just do it, Choi.”

Out of excuses, Angelina sat down next to Jacq and put a sympathetic hand on her arm. The terrified panting rasped to a halt.

“Jacq, hi, you okay?”

“I, um…” At least she didn’t faint. “What’s going on? What happened?”

“It’s Angelina Choi, I’m one of the detectives looking into that murder. What do you, um, remember?”

“I… I…” Jacq felt her own head, a smear of blood came away. “I was turning off the lift just over there, and someone grabbed me from behind and bashed me.”

“Bashed you?”

“On the, um, head. I woke up on the second floor, they’d left me there, turned the lift off and stolen my key, then, um, wedged two huge trolleys of rubbish against the entrance. I guess they must’ve…” Another pause, longer, before her eyes grew to their widest yet. “Oh God, did they rob the place? The owner will be so cross…”

“No, um, nothing taken. I think.” She gulped. “So how did you get out?”

“I had a spare lift key in my wallet, I always have a spare, I’m a very careful person. So what did they do? Why did they attack me?”

Another look up, in case Hobson would give some guidance, but he only shrugged. So Angelina spat it out: “They, um, killed Matt, I’m afraid.”

Jacq didn’t speak another word, just gasped so deep that her belly inflated. Her eyes rolled back into her head and she passed right out, falling onto Angelina’s shoulder.

“She’s going to blame herself, you know,” Angelina murmured as she lowered Jacq to the floor.

“Sure. Fine.”

“No need to be so horrible. So what do you think?”

“Not sure. She might’ve done it, she was here at the time, alibi’s bit thin, that gash on her head could be self-inflicted.”

“What do you mean she
might’ve done it
? She totally didn’t!”

“Why? Because she’s a cuddly lovable flower child who says things like
the owner will be so cross
?”

“Yes! She’s not that kind of person!”

“What kind of person? The quiet kind? Matt was quiet, and you spent a day yammering about his secret life as a fucking psycho!”

“That was because…”

The argument was cut short by a burst of sirens from outside. The law, at last. Two police cars, a van full of officers, an ambulance, and more flashing lights behind those.

Hobson took a swift turn to take in the entire room, as if checking what to hide before the teacher comes in. And yet Jacq was the one acting suspicious?

The first police car opened up before it even came to a halt, and a woman in a long coat — much like Hobson’s — leapt out and marched straight at the door.

She stopped just inside to look down at the bloody footprints on the floor near the stairwell, and then stared Hobson out for a few seconds. “John. Why have you been stamping through the blood? You didn’t think that might contaminate the evidence?”

“It was an emergency.”

“I see. So the body’s in the stairwell?”

“Yeah.”

The policewoman turned away from them both, never even acknowledging Angelina. Seemed rude, considering she’d called 999. After registering the name she’d called Hobson, Angelina looked up at him. “So is this Ellie?”

“Yes, this is Ellie. She’s both my ex-wife and a police detective.”

“Shit.”

EIGHT: Little Questions

EIGHT
Little Questions

They stood in twitchy silence, watching as the Inspiration Gestation Station filled up with policemen. The cops scraped at the blood on the floor, crowding up the stairwell, bringing in men in white, taping off the lift and door.

Jacq was pulled away by paramedics, but no sign of Matt’s remains being moved. Angelina desperately wanted to be gone before the mangled corpse-splat was paraded past her.

Ellie, meanwhile, swooped between gangs of police spitting terse instructions, glancing over at Hobson to ensure he felt out of the loop. The big detective was preoccupied leaning against the desk, looking nonchalant so she knew it wasn’t working.

Honestly, it was like Angelina never left her school playground.

At last, Ellie ran out of people to instruct, so came over to them.

“John. Have they searched you and your partner?”

“Yes, Ellie. It was very sexy.”

It had not, in fact, been sexy. Angelina was checked over by a woman, but it remained embarrassing. Her most sustained physical contact with anyone besides parents and doctors hadn’t lived up to her fantasies.

“Good,” Ellie continued, “outside, then. Quickly. And try not to step in any more blood.”

They emerged into the small driveway outside the IGS, and Angelina breathed deep. It was a skinny gap between buildings, very quaint and unique in the open air, but in the dark, full of blue lights and with a lake of blood behind her, it felt a lot like an alleyway. A small, dark rut, just about big enough for people to drive round the back to park their cars.

The London air was polluted with exhaust fumes from half a dozen emergency vehicles, but tasted amazing compared to the stale, bloody musk indoors.

Ellie pointed behind a large van. She stood Hobson and Angelina against it and turned to address them like a drill sergeant.

“Okay, you two. I’m told it looks like Matthew Michaelson was killed by a dog again, and although you have many fucking character flaws, John, I can’t see any reason or method for you doing this.”

“Thanks.”

“So, after I’ve taken statements from you both about what you saw here, you can go. But, and I want to make this as clear as I can:
no more
blundering around crime scenes. To be honest, if you could drop this case entirely, that would be helpful.”

“I’ll have to consult with my client,” Hobson said.

“Fantastic.” She gestured to one of her flunkies. “Okay, Sergeant Jensen, take Mister Hobson around the corner while I have a chat to his partner.”

Hobson was led off past the front of the van before she could say a word to him. Ellie made eye contact with Angelina for the first time, and she felt cold and small. Her dead-straight hair gave her an air of terrifying severity, along with the big coat and ironed suit. Hobson’s black suit seemed increasingly like an affectation, but his ex-wife
owned
it.

“So, Miss Choi, is it?”

“Um, yes.”

“Okay, Miss Choi,” she said with a surprisingly warm smile, “why don’t you tell me what happened here tonight? Don’t worry if it makes John Hobson look bad, he does that to himself.”

She thought about how best to present the story, but her fear choked all the thoughts at birth. So she opened her mouth and began.

*****

Hobson’s wait against the front of the police van, with a large sergeant watching him, was grim. He tried to make small talk about the case, hoping this guy would cough up some forensic results, but no luck. Only a few ‘
Dunno mate’
s and a lot of stony silence.

So the two of them stood there, picking at their fingernails. Hobson wondered if he could start texting, just as Choi came back around. She looked dazed, but not choked or beaten.

He chanced a few words. “You alright?”

She just nodded.

“Good. Want to head home on your own or wait for me? I’m warning you, pretty sure the papers will be here by now.”

Police cars boxed them in, a fair way behind the tape that surrounded the scene. Still, when Hobson and Choi glanced over towards that barrier, the flash and throng of a dozen cameras was visible.

“I’ll wait, thanks.”

“Fair enough. So, I take it she’s ready for me?”

Another small nod.

“Ugh.”

*****

“So, you went upstairs, splashed around in the blood a bit, then rushed back down again because you thought your teenage sidekick might be in danger?”

“More or less, Ellie.”

“And I suppose the fact you were rushing heroically to save the day means I should let you off for stamping through the evidence?”

“Do what you want.”

“John, I’m doing you a favour by not arresting you for tampering with the scene of the crime. The least you could do is not be a prick about it.”

“Shit, you’re right Ellie. Thanks
ever so
much. Without you, I’m just a stupid arsehole bumbling around playing detective. I don’t have a clue what I’m doing and what I need is for a real police dogsbody to show me the light.”

“Many a true word spoken in that particular jest, John.”

“Such as?”

“Like I’m not sure dragging that kid around with you is helping anyone. She almost cried under interrogation just now. Let her go.”

“So you want me to fire Choi and back off the case?”

“Yes. We know what we’re doing, we can solve it fine without your
help
.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“I hope so.”

“Anything else?”

“Been in any fights lately, John?”

“I’m staying out of trouble.”

“Good. Because if people involved in this case start turning up beaten without any claw marks on them, your record means you’re our first call.”

“I’ll be taking my sidekick and leaving, if that’s okay Ellie?”

“Of course. Lovely seeing you as ever.”

*****

After Angelina stared at the growing paparazzi for a while, the policeman watching her asked if she was okay. She reassured him everything was fine, then tried to look stronger and less troubled.

He didn’t look away, this wasn’t working. Thankfully, Hobson turned the corner a few minutes later. It felt like his statement was shorter, even though more had happened to him. Maybe he had more experience.

“Choi,” he declared as ever, “time to take a walk.”

Before sweeping her away, though, he turned to the policeman. “Sergeant, thanks for looking after us. I especially enjoyed the part earlier where you gently touched my inner thigh while searching me.”

The tall guy scowled at him and prowled off to rejoin Ellie. Once the police guy’s footsteps faded away, the two of them began winding around towards the police line. The media were building up numbers there.

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