For the Sake of the Children: The first Chloe Webster thriller (Chloe Webster Thrillers Book 1) (3 page)

Chloe’s heart sank. The words stopped her in her tracks as she focused on the large man sat behind the modern plastic-coated desk. It took just a moment for her to recognise the coffee accident victim from the train.

Really? On my first day? Someone
is
having a bloody laugh.

There was no obvious sign of the incident now, thank goodness, although his coat had taken most of the drink and that was nowhere to be seen. He was frowning, his already stern features exaggerated by the act. Together with his greying hair and braces, he looked every bit the stereotypical stressed-out ageing lawyer.

‘Hang on, stay where you are, let me move my coffee out of your way before you have it all over my lap.’ He very deliberately picked up his foam cup and placed it to the far side of the desk. ‘Right, good. Have a seat.’ He nodded at the chair on the other side of the desk. Chloe sat down, not knowing whether to smile or apologise again. She decided on the latter.

‘I really am very sorry about that. It was
so
busy on the train and I’m sure someone pushed me. If you want me to pay for your coat to be cleaned I’d be happy to…’

‘Forget it. These things happen. The coat’s already at the dry cleaners. I’ve had it years to be honest and it’s seen much better days. Anyway, I’m Brian Drake, family law partner. You must be Chloe. I’ve heard a lot about you.’

‘All good I hope.’ She immediately wished she hadn’t said that.

Drake didn’t smile and Chloe wondered if he could. His face didn’t seem like the kind of face that smiled very often.

‘Some of it, yes. But I take people as I find them. Do a good job here and we’ll be fine. Now, your desk is on the end of that first row there.’ He pointed to a work station just outside his door. ‘I’ve put some files on it so you can get cracking on those. There’s a mobile there too, and some business cards. We like our people to be contactable.’

Chloe sat looking at him, expectantly. She couldn’t help notice the deep lines that, on their own, would probably form an accurate sketch of his face.

‘Well off you go then. Time is money and all that. If you need any help, grab someone out there or ask one of the secretaries.’

‘Oh, right, yes of course. Thank you.’

Chloe walked quickly out of his office and over to her desk. She sat down and reached for her bag. She sighed and kicked herself.

I don’t believe this.

Returning to the office, she knocked gently, edged open the door and whispered quietly, ‘Sorry, I left my bag…’

Drake rolled his eyes, picked up the phone and started to dial out. Chloe scampered over, grabbed the offending object and hurried out to her desk. This day was turning out to be very awkward and she wished it was over already. She pulled out her own mobile and keyed a quick text to her father.

Am here, all OK, nice people
, it read. There was no point in worrying him unnecessarily, after all.

The Timer took a long drag on his cigarette as he lent against the cold concrete wall outside the shopping complex. From here he had a good view of the huge car park which stretched before him into the distance. He’d always been puzzled by the popularity of these places; he much preferred trudging around his local shops than forcing his way through the crowds amongst the plastic and glass of a characterless shopping centre.

He pulled again on the cigarette. He didn’t usually smoke, but it gave him a reason to stand here unnoticed, effectively invisible, and that’s just the way he liked it.

To the outside world he was just Mr Average, a happily married man with two lovely daughters, but there was so much more to know. Very few people were allowed into that part of his life, and the nature of his work meant it had to remain that way.

He watched the cars streaming into the car park, the occupants carefully locking their doors and disappearing into the centre, shoppers and workers alike. He wanted an Audi today. He’d always loved the mix of reliability, class and comfort, and the power would come in handy on the steep roads that wound up into the Pennine hills. Such was the advancement in modern security that gone were the days when he could simply steal a car using a bent piece of wire or some other basic tool. It was a little more problematic in this day and age. Not difficult, but certainly more of a challenge. Fortunately, it was a challenge he relished.

He saw it then. A black Audi TT purred into the car park and pulled into a space some way from the centre. The car looked new, and no doubt the owner was taking care to park well away from other potentially less careful drivers. She was the only occupant of the vehicle and she stepped out and locked the car with the remote key, the headlights flashing an acknowledgement in return.

As she walked away she turned round several times to check her vehicle. The Timer smiled to himself.

Definitely a new car. Don’t worry, I’ll look after her.

She came right past him, telephone to her ear, seemingly making arrangements to meet someone inside. Wearing a bright green jacket, he knew she would be easy enough to follow. He dropped his cigarette, extinguishing it with a twist of his foot, pulled his cap down to obscure his face and followed her into the centre.

Keeping his distance, he remained hidden in the crowd, looking into shop windows and pretending to be interested in what was displayed behind them. The woman browsed inside a few shops but, confident there was no other way out, he simply waited nearby for her to reappear. He checked his watch. 09:20. He had to be up in the Pennines by ten and that was a twenty minute drive from here. Still plenty of time, but he needed to make his move soon.

It wasn’t long before the woman met up with a man of similar age to herself. He was dressed casually and they embraced as friends or family rather than lovers and headed over to a nearby coffee shop, deep in conversation, laughing and joking, clearly comfortable in each other’s presence. They found a table against the wall and sat down facing one another, still engrossed in their discussion. The Timer bought a coffee from the counter and sat at the neighbouring table, back to back with the woman in the green jacket. She hooked the long strap of her handbag over the back of her chair next to the wall, no doubt believing it was safely tucked away out of sight. But it was certainly within his reach, and now it was all about the timing. And that was something he was very good at.

His opportunity presented itself a few minutes later when a young girl arrived to take their order. They were apparently here for breakfast, and as they were engaged with the waitress he hunkered down subtly in his chair, slipped his hand backwards and down into her bag and carefully lifted out her car keys, which were easy enough to find. As soon as he had them, he stood up casually, checked his watch, and left. His work here was done and there was no point in hanging around for any longer than was necessary. 09:35. Now for a leisurely trip up into the Pennine hills.

Perfect timing, as ever.

Chloe was making good progress with the files that Drake had left on her desk. There was nothing she couldn’t handle - some run-of-the-mill divorce cases and a few child related matters involving access rights and care proceedings. She’d seen all this before. One matter in particular did however catch her attention. The firm were representing the mother of a young boy who was in the process of being taken into care due to the treatment he had received at the hands of his mother’s boyfriend. Chloe shook her head as she read through the details. It seemed to be such a common situation now. There were photographs of the boy in the file and they didn’t make for pleasant viewing. This was the kind of case that Chloe hated, but she knew that everyone was entitled to legal representation, so she would do the best she could for the mother, as ever.

‘Hi, my name’s Ray Fuller. I’m an associate solicitor here. I guess you must be the new trainee. Your first day is it?’

Chloe turned in her chair to find a very plain looking man in his early thirties standing in her comfort zone. Although he was wearing the standard suit and tie, the cut was poor and it just didn’t hang right from his wiry frame. She also noticed that his face was too thin, making his attempt at stubble look ridiculous somehow, almost rodent-like. The air around her instantly became musty and close, making her feel nauseous.

‘Yes. Yes, hello. Erm, I’m Chloe. Chloe Webster. Pleased to meet you.’ She offered him her hand but he clearly wasn’t expecting it and didn’t seem to notice. ‘I’m not the new trainee though. I mean, I am new, but I’m a qualified solicitor, not a trainee.’

‘Really? My secretary told me you were a trainee.’ He seemed to be looking her up and down and Chloe felt a shiver run up her spine. ’Anyway, I’ve got a couple of files here I’d like you to deal with. I’ve got far too much on at the moment and I’ve been waiting for you to start so that you can take some of the load off me.’ He dropped a hefty pile of files on her desk with a thud, and Chloe was sure that a faint cloud of dust formed in the air around them.

‘Yes, of course. Thanks. I’ll look at them today.’

‘You’re welcome, I’m sure there will be plenty more where that came from. I assume you’ve run your own caseload before?’

‘Yes. I had a full load at my last firm. They let me have complete responsibility for them. It was great experience.’

‘Where was that?’ He seemed interested so Chloe was happy to oblige him.

‘Finch Harrison. It’s out in Derbyshire. It’s a lovely firm to work at, small and friendly.’ For the second time today she instantly regretted her words as soon as they were out.

‘I’ve never heard of it. Still, it takes all sorts I suppose. I dare say these small firms have a place in the system somewhere. The work you get to deal with here will be of the highest quality. We do some really important stuff.’

Chloe wanted to defend the firm that taught her all she knew, but thought better of it this time.

‘Yes, I’m sure you do. What’s your area of expertise?’

‘Well, family law generally of course; this whole floor is devoted to family law and related matters. But the child stuff is what interests me the most.’

‘It can get very emotional,’ agreed Chloe.

‘Oh that doesn’t bother me, I find it easy enough to detach myself from the human side of it. I just find it all so fascinating.’ And with that he wandered off back towards his desk on the next row. Chloe didn’t really know what to make of what he’d said, but before long she was deep in the files that he’d left for her. They were very uninteresting, and she made a mental note not to become an easy dumping ground for Ray Fuller’s unwanted cast-offs.

The Timer enjoyed his drive up into the hills of the Pennines. As soon as he set off he tuned the radio to his favourite classical music station.

Ah, The Piano Sonata Number Sixteen in C Major if I am not mistaken.

He certainly knew his classical music, and it helped him relax as he made his way along the Woodhead pass, a windy and often treacherous road connecting Sheffield and Manchester over the Pennine hills. He was clear of the top and beginning his descent of the western side of the hills, and he expected to encounter the truck coming in the opposite direction any time now. He gave the task his full concentration, as the mist which had enveloped Sheffield itself had transformed into a much denser fog during the drive up here. On-coming traffic ghosted into view and disappeared again at such a speed that checking number plates was far from easy.

This wasn’t the first time he’d done this of course. It was a standard method of operation for Drabble. After importation through Liverpool the goods would be smuggled onto a truck at the docks and carried by an unsuspecting driver. Once clear, removal of the goods would be arranged at a convenient point. That’s where he came into the picture. Not yet sure where that convenient point would be, he knew from experience that an opportunity would come his way before long.

A huge truck appeared over the brow of the hill and thundered passed the Audi. It wasn’t the one he was looking for. Close behind it was another truck which was gone before he had a chance to read its plate. Fortunately, the road was relatively straight here and a glance in his rear view mirror allowed him just enough time to make out the first four digits of the plate before it disappeared into the fog. The digits matched the plate he had been given and he considered it was too much of a coincidence for it not to be the one he was searching for. He needed to get after it, but finding somewhere to spin the Audi round wasn’t going to be easy on this road. Several cars passed him from the opposite direction before he saw a small road off to the left. There were many reservoirs along this stretch and this narrow lane probably provided access to one of them. He pulled into the side road which, due to the shallow angle it formed with the main road, left plenty of room for him to turn the car around. He set off in pursuit of the truck, glad of the additional power which the Audi provided as it pulled back up the hill towards the summit.

Pushing the car to a speed which was probably not safe on the windy road, especially in the appalling weather conditions, he came up close behind the rear lights of the last car to have passed him. He could make out another set of red lights beyond it, but further into the distance the thick fog blocked his view. He had little choice but to sit and wait behind the car, knowing that the truck would probably be near the front of this line of traffic; the road had few turnoffs suitable for a vehicle of that size, and in any case, he had been told it was on its way to Sheffield, so there was no need to panic.

A few miles on, a lay-by which was popular with truck drivers loomed out of the mist on the left. Touching his foot gently on the brake, he slowed the car down and examined the scene. Surrounded by tall, upright pine trees, a small wooden food hut that had seen better days stood next to several parked trucks and at the far end he saw what could be his target. Passing the line of parked vehicles, he checked the registration plate.

That’s my baby.

He quickly pulled the Audi into the lay-by beyond the truck and sat watching in his rear view mirror. There was no sign of the driver and he assumed he must have already set off to the café for his breakfast. The Timer opened his door and stepped out onto the tarmac, glad that the fog was still thick enough to give him some cover. He moved quickly down the side of the truck furthest from the roadside so as not to be unnecessarily observed by any passing vehicles. He looked down the row to the cabin of the next truck to ensure no one was watching him, but that was also empty. The Timer drew his knife and stuck it into the tarpaulin, slicing open a couple of yards of the fabric, amazed at how easy it split open. He pulled out a torch and climbed inside.

The truck was loaded with unmarked wooden crates and he had been lucky to enter at a point where he could squeeze through to the centre of the wagon, where a gangway had been deliberately left running down the middle of the cargo. He moved quickly up and down looking between the crates for the bag.

The engine grumbled into life and the truck jerked to a start almost instantaneously.

The Timer cursed but had no choice other than to stay on board until he located the bag. He continued to search the spaces between the boxes as the truck picked up speed, and eventually found it stuffed down between a crate and the back of the truck’s cabin. The lorry was in full motion now, and he could feel it swaying as the road turned this way and that. He pulled the bag out from its hiding place and looked inside. The drugs were wrapped in opaque blue plastic but he knew what they were. He zipped it up and made his way back to where he’d cut open the tarpaulin. The cold air rushed in through the hole as the vehicle travelled over the hills. He pulled his coat closer around him to keep out the chill. All he had to do now was to wait for an opportunity to escape this moving prison. He knew the truck was going to Sheffield, so he could afford to wait a while. He relaxed. Things had actually worked out quite well.