Authors: Jessica Lake
Akin took a very deep breath. "Are you pleased? That we haven't found Callum Cross?"
I thought about it for a minute.
"Yes."
"Jesus Christ, Morgan. You really - this is a terrible thing to say, but I'm incredibly disappointed in you. This - this here, right now - this certainly isn't what I expected from you."
"I'm sorry."
"You're sorry? Don't say sorry to me, say sorry to Linda Trout's family. Say sorry to her
son
. Do you even remember why you met Callum Cross? Because we are investigating the murder of an innocent woman. A vulnerable woman who didn't deserve to die. Does that ring any bells?"
I didn't like Akin's tone. I'd heard him use it with other people before. It was reserved for those he believed were beneath him, incompetent in some way. I looked up and met his gaze for the first time during our meeting.
"Of course it rings a bell. Do you think I've suddenly developed a mental disability?"
Was I imagining it or was there the faintest trace of a smile on Akin's face when I said that? I continued:"I haven't forgotten a fucking thing, OK? I might be in a little bit of shock right now, I don't really know, but I can't imagine it's going to last long. The reason I'm not freaking out is because Callum Cross didn't kill Linda Trout. So if you're asking me if I feel guilty for letting him escape, no, I don't, because he's not who we're looking for."
As soon as the words were out of my mouth I knew - for the first time I really
knew
- that they were the simple truth. I did not believe Callum had killed Linda Trout. At the same time, I realized that the DNA match - the partial DNA match - meant I couldn't entirely close the part of my mind that was trying to solve a murder.
"Alright, Morgan. You don't believe Callum Cross did it. I know you, so I trust what you say based on that, based on your record of excellent, thorough work. I trust you, but I'm just not sure I agree with you. Surely you can see my side of this?"
I nodded. "Yes, I know what it looks like. And I need to ask a favor."
Akin shrugged, as if to say I could ask, but he couldn't guarantee a positive answer.
"I know I'm off the investigation for now. I understand that. But can I have permission to speak to the lab techs? The ones who ran the DNA? I need to clarify something."
"I don't see why not. You're free to ask questions, Morgan. But none of it will have any impact on where we go with this, not at this time and not until you're reinstated -
if
you're reinstated."
I'd take that. In fact I took it right that second. Akin watched me as I gathered my things.
"I presume you're going to the lab right this minute?"
"Yes," I replied, "why not? I don't have anything else to do."
He held up his hands. "OK, Morgan, OK."
As it happened, one of the lab techs was in the building and I cornered her just as she was leaving, quickly introducing myself and telling her I had Akin's permission to clarify some things.
"Er, yes, OK," she replied, clearly eager to make it snappy."I'm just on my way home right now."
"Yes, I know, I'm sorry, this will only take a couple of minutes."
She gave me a look that said she expected it to take more than a couple of minutes and I plowed ahead."Partial DNA. What does that mean? Does it mean your samples were partial or that the match itself was partial? And if it's the latter, what-"
The lab tech held up a single hand, silencing me. "Slow down. What case are we talking about?"
"The Linda Trout case, the murder. The DNA samples for Callum Cross that partially matched the suspect's." I replied, being very careful not to let any impatience creep into my voice.
The lab tech thought for a few seconds. "Linda Trout? The witness who was shot?"
"Yes. Yes, that's the one. I'm DCI Morgan. I was just wondering if you could explain the partial DNA match, because I'm not sure I understand what it means. Does it mean it could be someone else?"
"The samples were both partial," the lab tech started. "By which I mean not complete. The one on the coffee cup was especially difficult. From what we can tell, we could not rule out the suspect as, well, a suspect. But it wasn't a complete enough match to definitively identify a positive match, either. It could be a male relative - a brother, a father, even a cousin. We could make a more definitive statement with a complete sample from the suspect, but until then we-"
"Wait," I said, interrupting her," OK, just give me a second. So the match itself was incomplete? Then it could be someone else?"
"Yes, it could be. It probably isn't and if it is, it's most likely a close male relative, but that's up to your side to figure out. I'm just telling you what the lab found."
I took a step back. It could be a close male relative. Callum had a younger brother. It didn't compute, because based on everything I'd heard from Callum, his younger brother had no interest in the Streatham Club, Gazza, or anything else to do with that world. Still, it was a string. I had to pull on it, find out where it led.
"OK, OK, well thank you, that's actually really useful."
The lab tech looked at me impatiently. "If you need anything else you can come to the lab during working hours if you like."
"Of course, yes, thank you. You've been very helpful."
I stood just inside the building as she pushed the door open and walked away. Callum's brother. I had to get a sample from Callum's brother. He was a student and I knew his name, it was doable.
It was doable, but could I do it? Would I? I was still in the grip of that strange lack of emotion. I suppose I should have seen it for what it most likely was - a kind of shutting down in the face of events that might have broken me if I'd allowed them full reign in my psyche. I was off the investigation. Callum was - somewhere, I didn't know where, and that desperate kiss he'd given me just before I'd shoved him out of the storage garage may have been our last. I needed the strength to keep going, to see things through. The only problem was, I didn't know if I had it. Not without him.
I ditched my car at the train station, aware that the police would put out an alert on it, and took a minicab back to my flat. As soon as Gazza got close to the storage depot he was going to see the police presence and leg it, probably right back to the Streatham Club, where he was going to find Ian. And Ian was going to tell him everything. It took me less than fifteen minutes to pack a small bag, including the huge wads of cash I still hadn't figured out what to do with. As it turned out, cash was exactly what I needed, because I had to get the hell out of Streatham - out of South London entirely - and I didn't want to leave any kind of trail.
As soon as I was on the tube heading north, I relaxed slightly - if one can call it 'relaxing' when an extreme level of anxiety ratchets down to an only slightly less extreme level. And as soon as the immediate danger of getting caught by Gazza and his band of incompetent, dangerous thugs receded in my mind, Lily immediately replaced them.
Lily was a cop. The fact that I wasn't in complete shock over this fact was in itself shocking. Had I known? How could I have known? But then...why wasn't I as surprised as one would expect to be, under the circumstances?
Not only was Lily a cop, she had let me go. I'd never been a participant in the nine-to-five world of rules and offices and behavior codes, but even I knew you didn't get to let suspected criminals escape before the cavalry arrived and expect to keep your job. She'd risked her job - her livelihood - to let me go. Would she have done that if everything that had happened between us was fake? The answer seemed clear.
I caught my own pallid reflection in the window opposite me. Tube lighting makes everyone look like a ghoul. I had to get a hotel for the night, maybe a couple of nights, somewhere in North London, somewhere run by people who barely spoke English and would have no interest in me. I had to think about what to do next, and I had to think about it properly, to avoid making any irrational or hasty decisions.
At least, that's what I kept telling myself, over and over as Lily's flushed face and her desperate, screamed instructions to get out of the storage depot refused to leave my mind. I'd saved her. And then she'd saved me right back. Were we even, then? Was that it? Was I just to disappear now, never to see her again? That would have been the smart move. The move I knew I should make, if I wanted to get out of everything without going to prison. It was also the move I knew I didn't have it in me to make.
In the end, I made it less than twenty-four hours. I found a hotel near Wembley, and when the proprietor - whose English turned out to be impeccable - asked me if I was there for the match that weekend, I answered 'yes' and settled in. Then I called Lily. I didn't really expect her to take my call but she did, and so quickly it caused a pang of guilt. Had she been waiting for it?
"Callum?"
"Lily."
We both fell silent for a few moments, neither of us sure how to broach all the things that needed broaching.
"I'm sorry," she started, "Callum, I just want to say that I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let it go as far as it did. I'm just so-"
"Don't apologize, Lily. You were doing your job. I didn't know what that job was, granted, but you were doing it."
"So," she said, her voice halting, "you're not...you're not angry?"
"Truthfully? I probably am. I don't feel angry right now, but that's only because I'm so fucking worried we're never going to see each other again. I'm sure I'll be angry soon, at some point."
I was being straight with her. I didn't feel angry, not then. The only feeling I had was missing her, the only thoughts in my head were memories of our time together - the softness of her skin, the way she laughed when I teased her, her singular ability to call me out on my shit like no woman ever had before.
"Um," she said, hesitant and obviously not entirely buying what I was saying, "OK..."
"I want to see you." I blurted, the words coming out unbidden.
"Do you?" She sounded suspicious. She sounded very suspicious.
"Yeah. Is that a problem? Why wouldn't I want to see you?"
"Well," she started, still in that wary tone I was rapidly discovering I didn't like, "you're a criminal and I'm a cop, that's one good reason."
"That's true. But I came for you, Lily. I came and got you in Croydon. I'm in a hotel in Wembley for precisely that reason, actually. I'm pretty sure I'm not Gazza's favorite person right now, if you know what I mean. And you let me go - before your mates in blue showed up. I reckon that earns us both a little trust, don't you?"
She was quiet for a little while before speaking. "Callum, can I ask you a question?"
"Sure."
"Why do you think we were investigating the Streatham Club?"
"Because it's full of criminals?" I replied, trying and failing to bring some levity to the conversation.
"Yeah," she said, "but I mean specifically?"
She was pressing me. If answering her questions meant I got to see her again - soon, hopefully - I was willing to answer them. But the sudden vibe of being questioned by someone I now knew was a cop made me uneasy as hell.
"Uh, well, Gazza said it was about Wayne, uh, Wayne somebody, can't remember his last name. He killed someone and the coppers started looking into all his associates. You put the shit right up Gazza with that, by the way."
"Yes, Wayne Karswell."
"Karswell, yeah, that's him. Greasy little fucker."
"So you don't know anything about that?"
"About what? Wayne Karswell? I just told you I did. Why the fuck do I feel like I'm being interrogated right now, Lily?"
"Because I'm a cop and you are being interrogated. Don't worry, it's nothing official, I'm just trying to figure out if it's safe for me to come see you or not."
Ah, there it was. There was the anger she was too smart to think I wouldn't feel."Lily, are you fucking joking?" I demanded, "Of course it's safe for you to come see me. I risked my fucking neck to save you, you know. Even if I wanted to stay in Gazza's crew at this point I wouldn't be able to. What possible reason could you have to fear me - I mean
me
, specifically?"
"My superintendent thinks you did it," she said, quietly.
"What? Lily, what are you talking about? Your superintendent thinks I did what?"
Jesus, did the police know about what had gone down in Paris? Did they know about the dead men there? Did they know about the crates of guns I'd blithely driven up to Leeds? A little buzz of adrenaline started in my veins. Lily said 'it,' though. Her superintendent thought I did 'it'. If the cops were after anyone, surely their focus would be on Gazza?
"Killed Linda Trout."
I shook my head, shocked. "Wait, what? Murder, Lily? The police think I
murdered
someone? I don't - I've never even heard the name Linda Trout in my life. Lily, I'm sorry, I truly have no idea what you're talking about right now."
"Where are you?" She asked, suddenly changing tack.
"What?" I asked, still not entirely comprehending what I'd just been told.
"Where are you?"
It was my turn to feel paranoia creeping over my mind like a slow tide."Why?"
"You just said you wanted to see me, Callum. I need an address."
"Lily, no offense, but you just told me your boss thinks I killed someone I've never heard of. And now you're asking me for my location."
I listened to her breathing. "I know, Callum, but I guess it's like you said. We both took huge risks this afternoon and maybe that's proof enough for some level of trust? I don't even know if I'll have a job anymore when this is sorted out. I actually got threatened with arrest for letting you go."
She was right. If we were going to see each other - and I wanted to see Lily more than I wanted anything else in the world - we were going to have to take each other's actions on faith. I gave her the hotel's address. Then I spent the next hour sitting on the bed and tensing up at every sound in the hallway outside my door, half-expecting it to be kicked off the hinges any minute by a group of her esteemed colleagues from the Met.
It didn't happen. Instead, Lily showed up on her own. When I opened the door and saw her standing there I could see that her face was slightly bruised and her hair was messy. I didn't say anything. I just bent down and wrapped my arms around her, lifting her up off the floor and burying my face in her neck.
We stood like that for a long time, wrapped around each other in my dingy little hotel room, both of us filled with nothing except the simple relief of being with each other.
"I missed you," she whispered, refusing to pull away from me so I could see her face.
"I know, Lily. I know, baby. I thought maybe I was never going to see you again."
She made a small, choked sound and once again I tried to get her to loosen her grip on my neck so I could see her face. She stayed where she was, though, holding on tight - tighter than I'd ever felt her hold on before.
"Lily, Lily," I whispered her name as a feeling of protectiveness rose up inside me almost to the point of rage. No one was going to hurt her. No one was going to arrest her or do anything else to her.
She trembled slightly in my arms and I realized that she was crying. When she refused to pull away again I forced her, as gently as I could. Her dark eyes were full of tears, her eyelashes wet and stuck together. She tried to turn away.
"Don't, Lily. Why are you embarrassed? You don't want me to see you crying? After all this?"
If she spoke, she was going to cry harder, so she didn't speak. She just shook her head back and forth, looking everywhere but at me. She gestured to the ratty old sofa sitting against one of the walls in the tiny hotel room and I walked her over to it. Then she pushed me down onto it, crawled onto my lap and wrapped herself around me again, hiding her face against my chest. I gave up on trying to reassure her with words and just held her as her body trembled in my arms. We stayed like that on the sofa for ten minutes, probably longer. Then she brushed her hair off her face and kissed my neck, and something in the air between us changed.
"Lily..." I said, warning her.
But Lily didn't need warning. She wanted the reaction she was getting. She slid her hand down my body and stroked my cock through my pants, covering my neck and face with hot, hungry little kisses. As soon as she kissed me like that, I was gone, and all of the drama and tension of the past thirty-six hours transformed instantly into a powerful urge to take her. I could sense it was exactly what she wanted, too.
"Oh my God, Callum," she whispered as I cupped one of her breasts in my hand and ran my thumb over her hard nipple under her blouse. Jesus Christ she sounded so good.
She sat up a little in my lap and started unbuttoning her shirt. Her fingers were clumsy with lust and just seeing that, seeing her struggling with her own desire, just about killed me.
"Fuck, Lily."
I helped her pull her shirt off over her head as she ripped her bra off and started on my t-shirt. We were both suddenly frenzied, desperate to feel each other's bare skin against our own. Within seconds she was naked and I was running my hands greedily over her curves as she perched over my cock, kissing me, darting her tongue into my mouth.
"I want you inside me, Callum. Please. I just, I-"
She stopped talking as soon as she felt me against her opening, poised. I loved Lily like that. When she needed me more than anything else.
"Lily," I moaned as she rotated her hips in little circles, covering the head of my cock with her wetness until my fingers were cutting into her flesh and I was nearly choking on my need to feel her around me.
She threw her head back as she started to slide herself down onto me, and I listened to her breath catching in her throat as she took me inside. I leaned forward into that bare, pale neck and opened my lips against her as she started to ride me. Then she pulled back and, for the first time since she'd arrived at the hotel, looked me right in the eyes.
"This, Callum. This-"
She was having trouble finishing her sentence. Every time she lowered herself onto me she lost the ability to speak. And every time that happened, the cum in my balls threatened to spill over. I had to distract myself - and her - or it was going to be over before she had her fill.
"What, Lily? This what?"
"This is - Callum," she paused again, sighing and focusing those big, dark eyes right on mine. "This is what I need, Callum."
I sunk my fingers into the flesh of her ass, forcing her to slow down. That made her smile."Are you close, babe?"
I couldn't help but laugh. "What do you think?"
She bit her lip and grinned, leaning her body forward so her breasts brushed against my chest. "I think that's exactly what I want."
When she sped up again, I was helpless to stop her. It was too much, and she felt too good around me - too warm and wet and smooth.
"Oh Jesus," I heard myself groaning as she started sucking in her breath in small, desperate little gasps.
"Callum, please. Callum, Callum..."