Fear the Truth by Sally Rigby

Author:Sally Rigby [Rigby, Sally]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-06-23T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

Harris’ flat was in a four-storey red-brick Victorian building next to a neglected park with a few rundown graffiti-covered swings and slides. A tall brick fence ran down one side, with barbed wire running along the top of it to discourage anyone from climbing over. The place had a general air of neglect, and it confirmed Seb’s suspicion that the camera operator had fallen on hard times. But was it sufficient motive?

Birdie had gone around to the rear of the property to check if there were any car parks or garages, and Seb was standing at the top of the tiled stairs, which led to the floor on which Harris had his flat. He was holding an A4 envelope with the blank contract inside.

Harris lived at number eight but, while Seb waited for Birdie, he decided it might be beneficial to see if a neighbour would talk to them first. He tried number seven.

‘What?’ a woman with a shrill voice demanded from down a tinny intercom.

‘Good afternoon. I’m looking for Norman Harris,’ Seb said, deciding to continue his new undercover profession as a documentary producer. ‘I’m delivering a contract.’

‘Good luck. He’s in number eight.’ The woman snorted and the intercom stopped hissing. He could only assume she wasn’t a fan.

He pressed number eight just as Birdie reappeared. She gave a quick shake of her head, letting him know she hadn’t found anything worth reporting.

The intercom made another hiss, and Seb straightened up to his full height.

‘Friend or foe?’ The voice was male and was gravelly, like he’d been rubbing sandpaper against his throat; not uncommon when someone smoked too much cannabis.

‘A friend, hopefully. Is Norman there?’

‘He’s out.’

‘He was with me earlier. I thought he might be back by now. My name’s Sebastian Clifford. I have some papers of a sensitive nature and someone needs to sign for it. I’d prefer to come up. Is that okay?’

‘Yeah, man,’ the voice, presumably Dunc, said as the door made a clicking noise. ‘Second floor.’

‘Thank you.’ Seb pushed it open before the timer could lock them out.

‘That was too easy,’ Birdie whispered as they stepped inside. A staircase ran along one side of the carpet-less hallway.

‘We still need him to let us in to the apartment,’ Seb reminded her as they took the stairs two at a time. ‘And make sure we’re gone before Harris returns.’

There was a small landing on the first floor with four doors running off it, and at the end was a narrow window facing the busy street below.

‘I’ll stay here and watch out for Harris?’ Birdie suggested.

‘Okay. Call me if you see him.’ Seb climbed the next flight of stairs to where he was met by a skinny guy with pockmarked skin. His bloodshot eyes swept over Seb’s suit and then zeroed in on the envelope in his hand.

‘Looks pretty official. Is it for a film?’

‘Something like that,’ Seb agreed, holding up the envelope as proof. It was almost as effective as a clipboard and hi-vis vest. ‘I’ve learnt the hard way not to trust couriers to deliver important documents.

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