Playing James by Sarah Mason

Author:Sarah Mason [Mason, Sarah]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fiction, Romance
ISBN: 9780708948163
Publisher: Hachette UK
Published: 2002-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

seventeen

It’s Monday morning and I am on my way to the police station. Tristan is behaving himself and even my black eye has reduced sufficiently for me to be able to remove the sunglasses that have become such an essential fashion accessory. Now I just look like I have black circles under my eyes. Well, one eye anyway. Nothing that half a tube of concealer couldn’t fix. I had quite a nice weekend but to be honest I’m glad it’s over. Ben and I were a little strained with each other, as though treading on egg shells, but I think that’s only to be expected for a while until recent events have blown over and we get back to some sort of normality.

It is a beautiful day and even the hustle and bustle of the city seems peaceful as I wend my way through the traffic. I park Tristan, snap on the handbrake and gather up my bag and laptop.

As I bounce up the steps to the front desk, James appears in the doorway.

“Turn around!”

I stop on one of the steps and stare at him. “Why? What’s happened?”

He looks resigned, pissed off and furious all at the same time. “Another burglary.”

I remain fixed to my step. “Not another one? The Fox again?”

“Probably. It’s an antiques shop.” He marches past me and leaves me standing with my mouth open.

“Come on, we’ll go this way to the car pool. Caught your TV interview by the way,” he shouts back over his shoulder. I catch a flash of a smile but I am more intent on the burglary. I determinedly chuck my bags over my shoulder and set off at a trot after him.

“That’s a bit blatant, isn’t it? An antiques shop,” I say breathlessly.

“Yeah, it is. The owner has just called us. It must have happened sometime over the weekend. Here, let me take that,” he says, holding out his hand for my bulky laptop case.

“Oh. Thanks.”

“Forensics are meeting us down there. Thank God that no one was hurt this time.”

“Maybe he got scared after slogging Mr. Williams and decided an empty shop would be easier.”

“Maybe.”

“Blimey, this is the fourth one in as many weeks.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m worried about.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, when burglaries are this intensive, it usually means the burglar intends to do just a few of them. Then they’ll suddenly stop and we’ll never hear from him again.”

We reach our usual discreet gray car.

“I’ll drive,” says James, heading for the driver’s side.

Once inside, he shoves a piece of paper in my hands.

“Directions.” We set off out of the underground car park.

As we swing up the ramp to the outside world, I reach into my bag for my mobile. “Just going to call Vince; he can meet us there.”

“Fine.”

I duly hand over the address details to Vince (ignoring Vince’s pleas of “Put him on, put him on!”) and then settle into my seat and snap on my seat belt.

“So, what did you get up to at the weekend?” he asks.

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