Someone Who Isn't Me, Danuta Kot [good books to read for adults TXT] 📗

‘Look, about Becca. I’m worried about her. I should get her some protection, get her on the register, get them to pay her for what she’s given us.’

‘We can’t. You know this isn’t exactly what we’re supposed to be doing. This is off the record until we have something.’ Curwen was still on desk duties as the enquiry into the raid wound its slow way onwards, and not keen to be busted down further for afterhours sleuthing.

‘Yeah, yeah, I’m cool with that. But I’m not getting her more involved. I want her official as soon as it breaks. She should get something from this.’

‘She knows you’re a cop?’

Andy looked uncomfortable. ‘No. I haven’t told her. She really doesn’t like us.’

Curwen’s plan began to take shape. ‘Don’t tell her yet. That could put her in danger if it gets out. Wait until they’ve been in touch again so we know what we’re dealing with.’

‘OK.’

‘We’re close, and now we need to play safe. You need to drop out of sight until this is sorted. Stay out of the pub, no contact with your informant, low profile. Nothing that’s going to give you away now.’

‘What are they going to think if I’m suddenly not around?’

‘That you’ve got what you want and you’ve no need to go back. They’ll get that.’

‘Becca’s going to wonder what’s happened to me.’

‘She’ll be OK for a few days.’ His plan wouldn’t work if Becca the Barmaid and Andy were still communicating.

But Andy wasn’t backing down on this one. ‘No. I need to let her know if I’m not going to be around. I can’t just ghost her.’

‘OK, OK. Tell you’re away for a few days for work.’

‘I can text her, right?’

‘Best not, and don’t call. Remember, if they know you’re in contact and anything gets out, she could be in trouble.’

‘I suppose. Yeah. I’ll let her know I’m going to be away for a few days and then I’ll leave it. She’s nice, Becca, once you get past the claws. I don’t want anything bad to happen to her.’

‘It won’t,’ Curwen reassured him. He held up the phone. ‘How long does the battery last on this? Mine’s so fucking complicated I’m lucky to get a day out of it.’

Andy looked surprised. His phone was pretty basic, and Curwen always had the latest piece of gear available. ‘Couple of days. It’s OK.’ He checked his watch. ‘I need to get back. I told the babysitter I’d be back by one.’

‘I think we’re done.’

‘I’ll be off then. I’ll just go for a…’

Curwen had been hoping for this. ‘Help yourself. Down there on the left.’ He held the phone up again. ‘Mind if I take a look?’

‘Be my guest.’

Curwen held out the phone, and after a moment’s hesitation, Andy unlocked it and handed it back, then headed along the corridor. As soon as he was out of the room, Curwen moved quickly. He brought up the home screen, listening for Andy all the time, then he clicked on the store and started downloading the app he wanted, watching in frustration as the slow line moved across the screen.

It had barely downloaded before he heard the cistern flush.

Come on! Come on!

Done.

But now the screen told him the app was installing. He could hear Andy moving around. Shit – he was pushing his luck here. Quickly, he went into the contacts list, found Becca’s number and ticked the boxes to forward messages. Not to his main phone, but to a pay as you go, an off-the-record burner phone he kept for emergencies. The bathroom door opened and Andy’s footsteps came along the corridor. Shit! Moving fast, Curwen set the app to delete the messages, and returned to the home screen just as Andy came through the door. ‘Thanks, mate,’ he said, holding out the phone.

Andy took it and shoved it into his pocket. All Curwen needed now was to download some spoofing software onto his own phone, and he would not only get the texts Becca the Barmaid sent to Andy, he could send texts to her, and make it look as though they came from Andy’s number.

What were the chances of Andy spotting the app? Not great – there were too many other apps on the phone. Once this was over, Curwen could manage the same trick and delete everything – or just get rid of the phone altogether.

The raid had been a bad setback, but he was finding his feet again.

Chapter 13

Sunk Island

Kay sat up in bed, suddenly wide awake, trying to work out where she was and what had woken her. Milo was barking. An engine sounded outside, like someone was slowing down, then it picked up and faded into the distance. Milo barked again, a sharp, painful sound. ‘Quiet!’ Kay said sharply. It was bad enough having the noise of the motorbike – she knew a bike engine when she heard one – without Milo adding to the cacophony.

Then there was another engine – the same one? No, this was the tinny roar of a cheap, souped-up machine, the kind of bike very young men rode around on, the amplified engine noise making them feel strong and invincible. It came closer, then raced along the road outside the gate and faded away into the distance.

The farm thieves? They wouldn’t make so much noise, and they wouldn’t be on bikes. They’d come quietly and leave quietly. These were just idiots vandalising the silence for the sake of empty roads they could race around. She toyed with the idea of going out to the gate to… To do what? Shout abuse at some Hell’s Angel wannabe as he roared past on his hairdryer?

Great idea, Kay.

She checked the time, groaning as she saw it was only just after twelve. The hour’s sleep she’d had would probably have revived her enough to make further sleep difficult. As she slipped back under the quilt, discarding her now tepid hot-water bottle onto the floor, she thought