Footsteps in the Wind
PLEASE NOTE : This is a Work In Progress and so is not yet complete.
(Last updated May 2010)
Author's Note : Whilst many of the places, names, items and references contained in this story are factual, this work is a piece of fiction.
Part One - Adrift
Part Two - Bereft
Part Three - Tenacity
Part Four - Capacity
Nikki wasn't sure what she felt first, the thumping great headache, her parched throat, the hard ground beneath her or the biting cold of the howling wind. Regardless of what sensation she felt first, the overriding thought dominating her consciousness was "Where the hell am I?"
Thoughts did not come easily and she clung to the question of her location for longer than seemed possible. It was almost as if her brain were having to wade through congealed custard in search of answers. The freezing breeze across her face confirmed that she was outside, but the moonless night made it difficult to make out the time on her delicate wristwatch. After a few curses and a moderate amount of difficultly in focusing, Nikki decided that it was either a quarter past six or around half past three in the morning. The latter time would explain the heavy darkness that hung about in precisely the way that light didn't. Apart from her fashionable, yet impractical, watch and an old pair of trainers, all Nikki had on was a heavy woollen trench coat under which she wore a flimsy set of satin pyjamas. So here she was, in the middle of howling gale and no idea where she was or how she came to be here. All she needed now was for a wolf to howl and the nightmare would be complete!
The custard feeling in her brain seemed to ebb away in sluggish waves and, after a time, she felt confident enough to sit up and try to figure out where she was. Clutching at what seemed to be a small, rough bush and pushing against the sodden grass beneath her, Nikki managed to sit up without the world spinning totally off its axis. After what seemed an eternity, when the world, seemed a tad steady again, Nikki considered standing up to see over the immediate mass of low brush. This seemingly brilliant plan was fraught with unforeseen dangers. The most immediate one being that her body had not yet shaken off whatever it was that had caused the custard feeling in her head and decided that collapsing into a heap was the best possible solution to the situation. Nikki slipped, fell and slid down a moderate slope that ended in something wet and icky. Quite possibly the type of thing that she would never consider stepping in, let alone lying in, on any normal occasion. A supreme effort allowed her to drag herself free of the boggy puddle that she could not see nor imagine. Lying there, dirty, tired, confused and scared, she tried to think. This was decidedly easier said than done. The darkness of sleep came quickly and overtook her before she could fend it off.
The wind had abated somewhat and the modest hollow Nikki lay in kept her out of the direct path of the wind, but it still rose and fell with an eerie moan as it whipped it’s way across the desolate landscape. The wind sounded like a voice and the words flowed back from her memory, like acid into a wound. “Come on, have another drink, you know you want to.” Tina had been keen on getting drunk but Nikki hadn’t really been up for it. The day had been long and they had driven all the way from London down to Exeter, after work on Friday night, for a girl's weekend away. Nikki could remember having something to drink and then there was a vague recollection of being dragged into a car and going somewhere. After that there was nothing, just a large dreamless sleep-like gap where one would have expected to remember something. In this case, one would have been wrong. Apparently, that was all hours or even days ago and besides, it did not really explain how she came to be here, on what was starting to feel suspiciously like the moors. With the wind tugging at her hair, the surging grogginess in her stomach eventually made her throw up. This wasn’t her coat and she had no idea what had happened to Tina. Too many questions and no bloody answers, that was going to have to change smartish.
Time passed, as it does when you aren't looking, and Nikki felt much better, especially after emptying her stomach for the second time. Still with no idea of which direction to go, Nikki managed to stumble along with the wind pushing her from behind which, all said and done, was easier than fighting the unseen force. She was just about ready to throw herself into a bog and be done with it when she caught sight of a light glimmering in the distance. It seemed to bounce and waver about, possibly the headlights of a car, she couldn’t tell. The darkness that lay before her could well have been a yawning void and into which she would fall to her death and Nikki wouldn’t have known. The light was the only thing she could see, so she decided to head for it, it had to be something didn’t it? Half crawling, half walking Nikki dragged her feet through the muck and mire, through the tough bushes, over jagged rocks and the hard, stony ground. Slowly, painfully, step after hesitant step Nikki wound her way slowly towards the distant light.
The light seemed closer now, but it was hard to say when approaching a light straight on through a darkness that appeared to have been spat up from the bottom of a very deep well. The light also seemed to have ceased it’s bouncing motion and was calmer now, if not steady. Nikki slumped onto a broad rock and rested her aching limbs for a moment. Thick bushes to the side temporarily sheltered her from the incessant wind and created a small haven for a moment or two as she shook off the last feelings of nausea and dizziness that had accompanied her impromptu route march across this hostile place. There, a noise, what was that? It sounded like movement in the brush. Was it just the wind? No, voices too. Nikki was about to call out when she heard her name being used. The cry for help was immediately stifled and trapped in her throat turning into a gulp as a bright beam of light cut through the darkness and shot little splinters of light through the bushes to her right. Both a man’s and a woman’s voice could be heard through the wail of the wind, close now, almost yelling above the wind obviously uncaring about being overheard. That voice, it was Tina!
The bile rose but was smothered by the tasty thought of retribution which clouded Nikki’s yet perplexed mind, although she managed to control herself and slither lower into the shadows as the man passed within feet of her hiding place. What was going on? Nothing was clear save the fact that the two of them were in league with each other and to draw attention to herself could be very dangerous right now. Nikki lay silent, shivering against the cold and heartless relief of the rock against which she now pressed herself. In that peculiar position, she still managed to consider that while discretion may well be the better part of valour, it also seemed to play a large part in self preservation. Her desperate attempt at concealment appeared to be working as the torch light shot back and forth, stabbing the night like a luminous bayonet, but never catching her. Harsh words shot back and forth between Tina and her accomplice, he seemed unsure of something and Tina was trying to tell him everything was OK and they should just leave now. Their voices faded and Nikki relaxed. Blood congealed in the scrapes and cuts around her ankles and on her hands from where she had scraped against the robust bushes or fallen and dashed herself on the rocks. Nikki lay quiet and afraid, trying hopelessly to ignore the pain and fatigue while endeavouring to figure out what was going on and why her life had turned upside down overnight. She kept thinking back about Tina, where they had met, who she was and what she was really after, as now it looked to be much more than a relatively simple act of abduction and abandonment. There had to be something more to it, but what could she have ever done to provoke such an act?
Nikki awoke with a start. Checking the time she found it was almost seven in the morning. The sky was lighter now and the sun was starting to rise, forcing itself through the remnant clouds of last night's storm into a light, clear blue sky that promised a cold day. The wind had died away to almost nothing but there was a chill in the air as the morning fog began to materialise in the hollows and low lying areas of the moor. Dank and desolate, the only sound was the occasional scraping as Nikki pushed her way through the bushes, searching the immediate area for signs of what Tina and the mystery man had been up to last night. Nikki kept a weather eye out in case the two were still near but she could see a bit of road in the distance and assumed that they had arrived by car, done what they intended to do and then left. A road must lead somewhere, all she had to do was follow it. Rounding the edge of a large bush she came out on the edge of the road and there, parked in front of her, was her little, silver, Mini Metro. She double checked the license plate just to make sure. The driver's door was open and the bonnet was up. Approaching the mud spattered car carefully, dodging the deep, dirty puddles, she looked in the side window. Littered across the back seat was a mass of paper, it looked like someone had emptied a filing cabinet into it. Taking a nervous glance around, Nikki slid into the driver's seat. Quickly checking the ignition she found that the key was there! Hope turned to dismay as the engine refused to start and the fuel gauge sat heavily on empty. How did my car get here? She had left it in London and come down in Tina’s Honda. She flipped open the glove compartment, her mobile phone was there, although she remembered having it last night in the hotel, but the battery was dead and no amount of begging would make it work. Nikki gripped the steering wheel and shook it in frustration. There was something sticky on the wheel and as she peeled her hands away, so too came away some of the dark, tacky substance. At first she thought it was oil, but upon closer inspection she revised her assumption and decided that it was blood. "Hah, serves them right, whoever stole my car must have injured themselves", she thought. Wiping her hands on the mud stained coat she pried herself from the comfortable seat and wearily clambered out of the car. OK, so maybe hitchhiking was the answer.
A short walk, following the tracks of her car, brought her atop a slight rise where she could see up and down the undulating gravel road. By all manner of classifications known to her this should have been a D-road, a narrow, shingle covered, dirt road in the middle of nowhere. The sort of thing that 4x4 enthusiasts live for, but not the sort of place to find passing traffic early on a Saturday morning. If indeed, this was actually Saturday. She would have to walk to a busier road before she would have a chance of getting a ride. The plan was good, but putting it into practice was harder than she thought. After last night's ordeal Nikki was bordering on exhaustion and she still wasn't feeling one hundred percent after whatever was in that drink Tina had given her. Lurching down the other side of the rise in the road Nikki caught herself short straining to listen. Was that a siren? Maybe it was the wind, she resumed her laboured route march along the road. There it was again, louder this time, it was definitely a siren, sounded like the Police too. She summoned every last ounce of energy to run up the face of the next rise in the road, just as she crested the peak she came face to face with a Police car speeding in the other direction. The driver took evasive action and brought the car to a sliding halt mere inches from Nikki, showering her shoes in stones and mud. Before she even had a chance to react to almost being run down, the two Constables were out of the car and upon her. At first she thought they were getting out to help her and she was so relieved that this part of the nightmare was over. When they called her by name, she had answered, and from then it took but a few seconds for her relief to shatter as she was handcuffed and unceremoniously deposited in the back of the patrol car, the only other words they spoke were her legal rights and to tell her she was being arrested on suspicion of murder. That word hung around her brain like an unwelcome admirer at an important social function.
It was some hours later that Nikki found herself sitting in a holding cell at the local Police station. Despite her protests she had been searched, examined, fingerprinted and then given something to drink and eat (something loathsome, but something nonetheless). She was still dirty, sore and very, very tired, not to mention totally confused. Her mind was racing, trying to understand why she had been arrested and detained for murder of all things. Surely it was Tina that they should be after for dumping her in the middle of nowhere, what was the point in arresting the victim? What she wanted most right now was to talk to Eric, her boyfriend, and then to get some sleep. As it turned out, neither were going to be possible.
The observation hatch in the door slid open and a steely pair of eyes shot her a stern glance before the hatch was slid shut again and the door to her cell yawned open to reveal two female Constables. Nikki was once more handcuffed and then lead down the corridor, up some lino covered stairs and into an interview room. There were two chairs, a couple of microphones on the table and the obligatory one-way, mirrored window. One of the WPCs left while the other seated Nikki and then stood guard by the door. Minutes passed during which Nikki's desire to cry alternated with the temptation to scream. The car ride to the station had taught her that she was not going to get any information out of the Constables and no amount of telling her story was going to make any difference to them, she had been told to wait for the Detective in charge of the case. But what case? She had not even reported being marooned in the wilderness yet. Nikki clung to the hope that this was some bizarre case of mistaken identity which would all be resolved very soon, after which she would receive an apology and then the Police would investigate her situation. It was a faint and distant hope that dissolved like instant coffee as the door opened and two very unhappy looking men in suits swaggered in.
"Ms Stevens," the one with the moustache started from across the surface of the well used table, battered and scarred from long service in a Police interview room. Reading from an open file he continued, "It would seem that you have a lot of explaining to do." The other man, shorter and broader than the first silently moved around the room to stand behind her. The woman PC's eyes stayed firmly fixed on the wall opposite. It was all wrong, it was maddeningly wrong, but now was her chance. Nikki's story darted back and forth erratically like a frantic cat hunting mice in a field. Starting in the middle she arrived back there by way of the end and eventually the start of her tale. Moustache made the occasional note and for the most part kept his head down while Dumpy made intermittent noises behind her that indicated disbelief. From his reflection in the mirror glass he looked to be sneering. Nikki concluded her babbled recounting of her ordeal by demanding to call Eric, as she had no immediate family. The WPC flinched at this but regained her composure following a sharp glance from Moustache. There was a long silence during which nobody moved, it was at least long enough to make Nikki feel like the world had stopped. Moustache finally spoke, "So if I understand you correctly, you expect to be able to talk to Eric?" He said this in a manner that not only suggested that he knew Eric, but in a way that made her feel suddenly unsure of her own request. Dumpy, upgrading his monosyllabic grunts for actual words, spoke in an even and unemotional tone "Eric Wade is dead Ms Stevens, but then you already knew that, didn't you?"
At the time there was no way to describe the feeling but later, if asked, Nikki would have likened it to being made out of toffee that had been left in the freezer and then smashed with a hammer. She watched the myriad pieces of her life fly away in slow motion. Her world shattered and then erupted. After that, there was a deafening roar like large surf waves pounding on the beach and everything faded to black. There was no conscious, there was no memory. There was just the cold, the dark and the deafening white noise, oh, and a good number of tears. The emotional strain, on top of the physical exhaustion, sent her into a fitful sleep that was haunted by unfamiliar dreams.
Was it minutes, hours or days later? Who could tell? It was dark, but then her cell was in the basement so that didn't mean much. Something smelled vaguely damp, maybe it was herself. Banging feverishly on the rivet lined door yielded the stern looking, steely-eyed PC who had taken her upstairs earlier. "Do you need a Doctor? Do you have a solicitor? Are you ready to eat?" The questions shot out like stray bullets and ricocheted around Nikki's brain, but nature's priorities triumphed, "I could just about manage a biryani ..." Nikki returned fire. The WPC seemed less than impressed by the return of Nikki's habitual razor wit. The observation hatch snapped shut leaving Nikki to dwell on the fading echo of footsteps in the corridor. Her mental faculties were restoring themselves to full speed which was, all things considered, a few miles faster than average. Nikki was by no means an idiot, in fact, if the truth be told, she was somewhat of a genius in her own right. It was just that she quite honestly didn't care about anything much, an attitude that had prevented her from achieving anything really important in life. This same character flaw accounted for acerbic attitude to other people and disregard for normal social behaviour, basically she didn't live by the same rule book as the rest of the world. This is not to say that Nikki Stevens was a bad person, she just refused to conform, the world is full of people like this in varying degrees. Another such person was Eric Wade, which is what had drawn them together, their socially unacceptable minds ran in parallel. But now it seemed like Eric was gone and to makes matters considerably worse it looked like the Police thought that she had something to do with it. She could never kill Eric but she would damn well find out who did. She had grieved all she could for now, more would come later - of that she was sure - but vengeance had just made the top of her To Do list.
Nikki's thoughts, although calmer and more focused now, strayed back to her last experience with the Police. She was young and her employer was causing grief about her alternative dress-sense, termination of employment had been suggested unless she change her attire. In Nikki's mind this was completely pathetic and simply an attempt to keep her looking like the rest of the city clones, thereby keeping her docile and subservient, hah! The last thing she needed was a corporate image, she was a keyboard jockey stationed in the basement of an inner city skyscraper. No one, save colleagues, saw her and she had no direct public or customer contact. All things considered she could have worked butt naked and it would have made little difference to her job or performance. Anyway, Eric liked her just the way she was and he worked there too. The net result of this conflict was that Nikki decided to make a statement to her employer by accessing the computer systems owned by their business partners and leaving small surprises there for them, most folks would call it hacking, Nikki called them Easter Eggs, or more privately, revenge. Needless to say the partners were not happy and because they were a collection of banks and finance houses, the Police were notified. Since then she had effectively been blacklisted and could not work on commercial computer systems or anywhere that money was handled electronically. But that was OK, there were too many restrictions anyway. From there Nikki naturally fell into the electronic entertainment world and was coding for high spec computer games within no time at all. Her less than pleasant wander down memory lane was sharply interrupted as the thick steel door to her boxlike prison was rattled open.
Sometime later, after a visit to some rather awful shower rooms, receiving a change of clothes and a simple yet repulsive meal, Nikki was ushered into another interview room which contained a table that had been bolted to the floor by someone who took their work seriously indeed. There were also some of those nasty plastic chairs that they used to have in schools but didn't anymore because they had proved harmful to children's backs and caused long term spinal problems. Obviously no one gave a damn about the posture of a prisoner. There was no mirror window and no recording equipment either but there were some rather attractive steel bars on the grubby window that looked out over what she assumed was the rear of the Police station. She could vaguely make out some trees and a grassy hillside past the yard, but all else was obscured by the side of the building that extended out that way. A few minutes passed after which the door opened and a mousey looking man entered. He was of slight build, wore glasses and had the air of someone who would scream and run a mile if you said boo to him. Nikki tried it out "Boo" she sneered in a defensive fashion. The man paused, looked her square in the eye and then smiled in a surprisingly charming way. He laid his briefcase carefully on the table and then sat down in the chair opposite Nikki, "My name is Gregory Burke, but you can call me Greg if you like." He passed her his card, "I am your court appointed legal counsel." His voice belied his appearance, it was smooth, sophisticated and quite confident. For the first time in a very long time Nikki felt quite stupid, her sarcasm had let her down. She made the best apologetic face she could. Greg seemed to understand and let the matter slip past like so much flotsam in a fast flowing canal. "I've heard your interview tapes with the Detectives on this case and from what I can understand, you have no knowledge of what has happened and you seemed quite surprised that the Police arrested you rather than rescued you. Is that about right?"
Nikki was out of sorts, she had no idea what to do, here she was in a predicament that only Morse or Barnaby could solve and her usual defence mechanism, i.e. cynical impudence, was not helping. To top it all off she had just insulted the only friendly face she had seen in what felt like an eternity. She cried. It seemed the only rational option and besides what could it hurt? This was something that Nikki had not done in many years, it was a weakness and unnecessary, or so she thought. But over the last 24 hours her body had been making up for lost time and absolute torrents streamed down her cheeks. Greg made it seem very normal and almost acceptable, she supposed he had dealt with this situation before and handled it quite well. "Nikki? I know you are upset, that is only to be expected, do you want to leave this until another time?" The wracking sobs that had accompanied her spectacular waterworks display subsided and Nikki felt some semblance of control slowly return to her breathing. "No, please continue, I want ... I need to get this all straightened out as soon as possible, I have only been here one or two days and already I am going mad." Greg proffered a tissue that he had almost magically conjured, but in reality he had retrieved from his briefcase. He continued "All right then, let's start again. First of all I need you to tell me one thing and be honest, without honesty I can not help you, OK?" Nikki choked back a lame joke and instead responded "Sure, what do you want to know?" Greg ascertained her absolute belief in her innocence and went on to question her about the events of the last few days and the weeks leading up to that.
"So, if I understand you correctly," Greg paraphrased "This Tina girl appears to be a major player in this drama, but she did not have the opportunity to kill Eric as she was with you. Therefore, her male accomplice may have done it. There may be more of them too, it depends on what it is that they are trying to do. The thing that really puzzles me is motive, I can't see anything obvious. Do you have any ideas on that front?" Nikki made the face that she made when problem solving, this was the same face that lead to her having to face the wall at work, it wasn't pleasant, but it got results. "Hang on," something twigged "You said the papers they found in my car were from Eric's work right?" Greg referred to his brief and nodded. Nikki resumed "Well that must be it then, you see Eric works for a Bank!" She was almost exultant, feeling like she had just solved the case, yet Greg's face was as blank as a dead TV screen whose power cord had been chewed through by rats. "Don’t you see?" Nikki stood up abruptly, "Eric was working on improving the Bank's security systems, someone must have found this out and wanted to find out what he knew ..." Her voice trailed off as she saw written on Greg's face what she had just realised, she was the prime suspect in that theory. Nikki was the one with the best motive and opportunity and no one knew who this Tina was or her nameless mate, or if they even existed at all. There was a knock on the door and it opened abruptly indicating that the knock was totally perfunctory and had no respectful purpose at all. Detective Dumpy sauntered, as his weight would allow, into the room and dropped a pile of papers on the desk looking very pleased with himself. Sneered ever so slightly and then waddled out of the room. Greg retrieved the documents and began to read, his face falling and becoming more clouded all the while. Nikki did not like the look of this.
After he had finished reading, Greg removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes, he then stared straight at Nikki so she felt he were gazing at her very soul. His question was simple and unthreatening, "What time did you leave London on Friday night?" Nikki felt the gravity of the question drawing her in like a black hole. She thought carefully, "I really can't remember, but I did leave work early, Tina wanted to get off quickly to avoid the traffic. Why?" Greg waved the bundle of papers at her, "This is the report from the London Met, including the Coroner's finding's. What it says is that Eric died sometime between 18:00 and 18:45, it also tells us that witnesses heard two loud bangs, shall we say 'gunshots', coming from Eric's flat and then saw a woman, fitting your description, speeding away in a car that is described as a Silver Mini Metro. Just like yours. This was around the same time as the time of death. The papers found in your car, and more in your flat, are from Eric's work. They think you planned something together and then you got greedy. They found a gun near your car on the moor which is going through ballistics now, but they expect it is the murder weapon. Oh, and the blood on your car steering wheel and on your coat is Eric's." There was no need to paint a picture, Nikki was a bright girl, but she was also a stunned girl. She slumped back into the horrid plastic chair and did the best guppy impression in history. Greg said one more thing, "Oh, by the way, the Met want you back in London, they are transferring you tomorrow."
Back in her cell Nikki decided that no one else was going to help her, she had to help herself. They all thought she did it. After all, the papers belonged to the Bank she was fired from and where Eric, up until recently, had worked with high level access to pretty much everything. Oh there was Greg, he was a good sort and he believed her, but he wasn't about to start chasing Tina and this mystery man any more than the local Bobbies were. What Nikki needed to do was get out of this place and do her own investigation. But how? Enough scenarios to sink a battleship crossed her mind, most of them insane and would only work in the movies. They were coming to take her back to London tomorrow, so she had better sort something out now.
"Hello? Hello, anyone there?" Nikki had woken early and was calling through the keyhole in the cell door. The viewing hatch shot open and a fresh faced WPC enquired "What is it?" with such a flat and even voice you could balance marbles on it. Nikki did her best embarrassed face, "Erm, it's my period and I need to have a shower, if you know what I mean ..." she let the sentence hang. She hated herself for using this excuse, but any port in a storm right? The policewoman, looked a little unsettled as if she wasn't sure, "Hang on, let me check the transfer schedule." The little sliding door was closed and her footsteps faded up the corridor, returning briefly. The lock was opened with a great rattling of keys and Nikki was escorted, as before, held at the elbow up the corridor to the shower block. The Constable checked that Nikki was actually showering and then turned her back out in the corridor, leaning on a service window and chatting with the Watch Sergeant. This is what Nikki had been counting on, but she had made one fatal flaw in her planning. Her clothes were next to the policewoman and to retrieve them would mean certain discovery. There was no other choice, this was her chance, clothed or not. Nikki tip-toed quietly down the corridor away from the chatting officers, slipping carefully through a door at the other end. Quite by chance this door lead to a locker room containing all sorts of jackets and overcoats, belonging to those on duty she guessed. She speedily found some trainers that fitted close enough and wrapped herself in a long coat, which seemed the quickest and easiest concealment for her total nudity. Pressing her luck, Nikki rummaged through some lockers and bags finding some car keys and a wallet, no cash, but a good looking credit card. Easing herself quietly through the door on the other side of the locker room she found herself in the corridor that she knew lead to the back of the building, this is where they had brought her in when she had been arrested. Putting on an air of confidence she made straight for the rear exit. Just as she was approaching the door it swung open and two policemen entered, she thought the game was up, but smiled prettily and to her surprise they held the door open for her as she calmly passed through and out into the car park.
The door clicked shut behind her and Nikki hurriedly retrieved the keys from her pocket. The car key was for a Ford and attached to the key ring was a small pair of fluffy dice, brilliant. Gazing around the chilly car park her eyes fell upon a metallic green Escort with alloy wheels and a nice pair of fluffy dice hanging from the mirror. Maybe her luck was changing. Cautiously fitting the key to the lock she turned it easily opening the door allowing her to slip in behind the wheel and start the car. Half a tank of petrol and some Pringles, ooh, Paprika flavour, her favourite. Mentally slapping herself she turned her eyes back to the front and drove carefully and sensibly out onto the high street. It was only after one hundred yards or so that she put her foot down and sped out of town in precisely the direction the car was pointing, which seemed easiest at the time. A road sign flashed by, Nikki had just enough time to make out the words 'Tavistock thanks you for driving carefully', they obviously didn’t know her very well. The open road symbol flashed by just as fast as the speedy little Escort rattled along the B3357 that promised to take her to Exeter.
From Exeter she could get onto the M5 and ultimately the M4 which would take her to London. This was the route she and Tina had come down to Torquay just a few days earlier. A small nagging thought in the back of her brain jumped to the front of the cerebral stage, that's just what the Police would be expecting, for her to make for London and most likely via main roads. After all, don’t villains always return to the scene of the crime? "Damnation and buggery!" Nikki cursed aloud, then felt foolish for talking to herself. Since she had left the Police Station car park one eye had been glued on the rear view mirror, half expecting to see flashing blue lights at any instant, but none materialised. It was just as well, driving across Dartmoor in the early morning fog was hard enough without being chased by the Ecilop. It didn’t take long to reach the A30 and signs pointing to the M5. But upon reaching the junction, Nikki was less than sure of her hasty escape plan. She made a tough decision and instead of heading straight for London, she found a quiet side street and parked up. It was obvious she was going to have collect her thoughts and make an intelligent plan or she was going to end up right back in a jail cell. Oh, and she needed some better clothes too. The clock set into the tacky, shiny, red dashboard panel told her it was 12:37, she didn't believe it. Her wristwatch had been removed at the nick, but her best guess was that it was around 08:00, she needed to find somewhere she could get clothes and some food. Fishing about in the car, Nikki attempted to find something akin to a roadmap. The item that came closest to that description was a Sainsbury's store location guide. "That'll do nicely", Nikki mused as she made a mental note where the closest store was and restarted the car.
The Guildhall Shopping Centre turned out to be your stereotypical, nondescript, generic centre of crass commercialism. And it was closed. But thankfully the 24 Hour Sainsbury's had a separate entrance. Stepping from the relative haven of the car, Nikki was reminded of the late Summer weather as a cool wind gusted up under her sole piece of clothing. Once inside she made directly for the clothing department. After a few despairing moments, realising that these were normal people's clothes, Nikki reminded herself that she had no choice. She also didn't have a lot of cash. Retrieving the credit card from her pocket she studied the details. The owner was one Mr Richard Grange and his signature was a messy scribble like affair that could only be replicated by the owner, either that or a slightly inebriated orang-utan. Best do this right from the start then eh? Nikki collared the youngest looking staff member she could find. "Hello, I am wondering if you can help me" her words dripping like honey, "I am in a terrible pickle. The young girl adjusted her uniform smock and smiled "Of course, what seems to be the problem?" Nikki quickly explained that she had been at the gym and while she was showering somebody stole her bag and clothes, leaving only her overcoat. She needed to get some clothes but had discovered she had picked up her husbands credit card instead of her own one. This had been in the car and not her bag, luckily. The naive sales assistant bought the story, hook, line and sinker. Silently, Nikki was quite impressed with her acting and briefly considered a career change when this was all over. Twenty minutes later she had a new set of clothes including shoes and a stylish hat she just couldn't resist. That matter of clothing dealt with, she headed for the main part of the store to hunt down breakfast and a proper roadmap, one without large orange circles containing S's.
Once more back in the car, both her and it fully refuelled, she studied the map and pondered her options. Going back to the hotel in Torquay would be pointless, the Police would certainly have been there to check out her story and search her room. Ordinarily this would have helped her alibi, as the staff would have remembered Tina checking in with her, but this was one of those Travelodge style places and Nikki had signed in while Tina unpacked the car. Thinking about it, Nikki remembered that Tina had been quite specific about the costs of the trip. Tina had insisted that she would pay for the petrol and their meal on the way down. Tina had also insisted that they stop and eat before they got to Torquay. She had taken her merry time eating too. Nikki now considered this to be a stalling tactic to draw out the time between leaving London and signing in at the hotel. This would make it look like she could have left London later than she did, providing a timeline consistent with her actually killing Eric. Whoever was behind this had planned it well. Wait a moment, of course! The petrol station! Even if Nikki had not paid for anything, these places usually had CCTV. Also, they stopped at the services on the M4, well before they had dinner! Consulting her newly purchased map Nikki discovered the location of the services in question, but how to get there in a stolen car avoiding main roads? And then what? First things first, get there and then figure out how to get a look at the security video tapes.
Several hours, many quaint villages and a number of wrong turns later, Junction 17 of the M4 loomed ahead. Turning left Nikki accelerated to motorway speed conscious that she would be turning off into the service area very soon. Less than two miles down the road, familiar signs directed her to the Moto exit. Navigating the muddle of signs and narrowly missing the back of a reversing juggernaut, she found herself once more on the forecourt of the Esso garage. She had arrived at the proverbial bridge, now she had to cross it. Several minutes later, having no strong approach to the situation, Nikki was still sat in the stolen Escort on the forecourt. The Cashier had looked curiously in her direction a few times and she figured she had better do something soon. To buy some time she turned and rummaged through the pile of junk on the back seat. Turning over a folder revealed the title "Community Constable - Working Together" with an attractive police badge kind of logo under it. This would be useful. Nikki grabbed the folder and, wielding it like a shield, exited the car and strode purposefully through the worn aluminium framed door into the petrol station shop. Making straight for the counter, ensuring the text on the folder was clearly visible, Nikki enquired "Is the manager about?" The young male Cashier glanced at the folder and responded slowly "Er, no, he's not here yet. He's due in later this afternoon and until then I am in charge." The spotty youth tried to look important, "So, what do you want?" They were alone as Nikki quickly explained, "I am, um, Constable Smith and I am here to review your CCTV footage for some information we need for a case that is, um, being investigated right now. We had cleared this with your regional manager … it is urgent." The barely post-adolescent till jockey looked very unsure, but another glance at the folder Nikki brandished like some kind of advertisement swayed the lad's decision. "Ok, what do you need?"
Nikki, briefly stunned by the ease of her ruse, gaped slightly and then hurriedly opened the folder, apparently looking for details. Scanning across the glossy brochures in the folder, public awareness leaflets for things like how to avoid getting mugged and not leaving your car unlocked, Nikki read from an imaginary list. "I need to review the security tapes for last Friday night, between the times of 18:00 hours and 20:00 hours. That's 6 o'clock to 8 o'clock." Smiling as pleasantly as she could Nikki closed the folder and wedged it tightly under her arm. Cash boy nodded silent acknowledgment of her request. Locking his till he lead Nikki into the store room at the rear of the shop. Retrieving a large bunch of keys from his pocket he tried several of them to the lock on an unattractive steel cupboard before finding the right one. Pulling open the doors and drawing up a nearby chair he quickly demonstrated the array of recoding equipment. Rifling through a row of tapes he located Friday afternoon's volume and handed it to Nikki. Vacating the chair he informed her that he needed to return to the counter to serve, but to call out of she needed anything. Once he had left the room Nikki inserted the tape into the player machine and, watching the digital time indicator, sped through the tape to 18:00 where she began to watch. The black and white screen was divided into four quarters, each quarter displaying a different camera view. The top two views were of the forecourt, from opposing angles leaving the other two inside the shop, one over the counter and the other perched above the drinks cooler near the rear of the store. Normally this would have provided views over all necessary areas. However, the left hand forecourt view appeared to have an obstruction over the lens and the right hand one was so dark it was almost impossible to make out the cars, let alone the license plates or occupants. This was not going well.
After what seemed like forever, peering at the small and frustratingly blotchy images, Nikki finally saw something she recognised. Her own face. She was standing in front of the drinks cooler trying to decide which drink to get, thinking back she remembered selecting an apple juice. Glancing at the obstructed forecourt view she could make out the front of Tina’s car at the pumps, but the interior of the car was not visible and neither was Tina's face as she moved between the car and the counter to pay for the petrol and the juice. Damn. But wait, the car itself! Nikki's car was not on the forecourt, but Tina's Honda was and the plate was clearly visible. Well OK, Nikki could have parked around the side of the building to hide her own car, but that didn't explain the time. Nikki's expression changed from anger to relief as she read the digitally encoded time on the screen. It showed 18:32. Greg had said that Eric died around 18:00. There was no way Nikki could have been in London, shot Eric and then driven over 70 miles in Friday evening traffic in 32 minutes, or thereabouts. Also, This did not prove that Tina existed, but surely it would clear Nikki as the number one murder suspect, wouldn't it? Carefully ejecting the tape she slipped it back into its cover and was about to slot it back into its place on the shelf when she stopped. If she found this then others could too, Nikki was starting to become paranoid, but rightly so. Removing the tape again she returned the empty cover to its place and slipped the tape into her folder, clamping it shut. Walking out of the store room and back to the front of the counter she called out "Thank you for your cooperation, I have found what I need. I'll make sure your manager knows how helpful you have been." Without waiting for an answer she darted out the door and returned to the car. Driving back to the main services area she jammed the folder under the driver's seat, with the tape still concealed inside. Then, grabbing a handful of coins from what she assumed was the owner's parking meter stash, Nikki got out of the car. Carefully perching the keys up under the left, rear, wheel arch, she made her way inside the services hall, through the friendly, and immediately familiar, automatic sliding doors.
The tacky plastic, sterile interior of the motorway services offered everything a weary traveller could want, except comfort. Making for a telephone Nikki retrieved some of the coins from the car and then tried to recall Greg Burke's phone number. She had only seen it once, on his business card, but she had a quite a good memory for such things. After two wrong numbers she finally got through. Greg was unhappy, to say the least, and pressed Nikki to turn herself in at the nearest police station. He kept asking where she was, a question that went unanswered. After getting him to shut up and listen, Nikki explained about the security tape and where it was. She apologised for stealing the car but felt it was justified given what she had discovered. Greg was silent for a while, then he spoke "Nikki, I understand the ramifications of what you have found and what you are trying to do, but this is a job for the professionals. You really should come back and we can sort this out through the proper channels." Nikki's reply was short and blunt, "Not on your life matey." She went on to explain that she still felt threatened by the police who appeared to eager to blame the person they had their hands on rather than look for mysterious villains who might not exist. Greg had to admit defeat and asked her to report in again when she could, "I will pass the details onto the Detective in charge, where are you heading now, London I suppose?". Nikki paused, "I think it's best I don't tell you eh?" Hanging up the phone Nikki made her way past the food hall, her stomach rumbling for lunch, and headed for the overpass that would take her to the Eastbound carriageway side of the motorway, getting to London was going to fun with no car, no money and ever increasing fear of what she would find there.
Company regulations or not, many truck drivers get bored and are only too happy to pick up a young, female passenger for some company on their journey. So it wasn’t long after she stuck her thumb out on the shoulder of the motorway access road that Nikki got picked up. The bloke behind the wheel, Dennis, was just a little over fifty with one of those faces that make you want to give it a good prod to make sure it’s real. Layers of fat and wrinkles rippled when he talked, which was pretty much all the time. Nikki nodded politely along with his conversation, but inside she was focused on her plans for when they reached London. The cab smelled faintly of oil and what must surely be tuna. It was not what anyone would describe as clean or tidy, but it was a ride. Finally Dennis stopped his incessant nattering to let her know that she had to get out as they were close to his depot in Slough. Giving her directions to the train station he waved a cheerful goodbye and pulled back out into the traffic. A twenty minute walk got her to the train station where the trusty credit card and a pretty good forged signature got her a ticket and a Monthly Tube Pass. Nikki made a mental note to pay back the owner of this credit card when she could, but needs must, and her needs were fairly desperate right now.
The stifling, dead air of underground exhausted outwards, following Nikki as she exited from the Queensway Tube Station onto the street of the same name. Instinctively she turned left, heading towards her own flat in Moscow Road. He feet shuffled across the greasy paving, slippery from a fresh rain shower. She had walked about fifty yards, past the ubiquitous red phone boxes and the bus shelter before she caught herself. What was she thinking? Heading home? Stupid girl! She immediately blamed the tube, as soon as you got on it you switched to autopilot and simply headed to the familiar stops. Ducking sideways into the familiar Queensway Market, Nikki headed for the back of arcade and lost herself in the overburdened shelves of cheap bags, racks of fringe clothing and a variety of glass cases containing studded leather accessories and shapely glass items. Absentmindedly she passed a vacant stare over the tacky and tasteless goods on display, but Nikki's brain was a whirlwind of deep thought as she engineered a plan that would not result in her return to a cell. Eric's flat was not far from here, in Sussex Gardens, but she couldn't go directly there either. Nikki knew where Eric hid his spare key, so access wouldn't be a problem - but once more the old axiom about returning to the scene of the crime nagged her into a quandary. Despite the fact that she wasn't returning, she figured the plod would expect her there. Her thoughts turned to her theory that Eric's murder was related to his current work being the Bank's security system. But like Eric's flat, she could not just turn up at New Broad Street in the heart of the City and just start snooping around. Also, this was her old employer and she was not supposed to go anywhere near their offices - blasted restraining order! Come on, think girl! Nikki pushed herself to broaden her view and consider more options. Then it popped into her head like a cork from some shaken champagne. Tina. "Let's find Tina" she muttered to herself causing the girl in the aisle next to her to give Nikki an odd glance and move off to another aisle.
Having decided what she wanted to do, Nikki now faced a mountainous hurdle, where to start? She did not know if any of the information that Tina had given her, throughout their brief friendship, was real or not. Was her surname Richards? Did she actually live in East London as she had indicated? Was she really employed at the games distribution company she claimed to work for? in fact, was their meeting at the electronic games trade show a coincidence? Now it seemed highly unlikely. Looking back Nikki felt that Tina had come on pretty strong at the show and almost insisted that they get together afterwards. Hindsight was a wonderful thing and Nikki now recognised it as an engineered circumstance. Tina had been far too easy to connect with, sharing similar views as Nikki, dressing in the same fashion and even her attitude had beaten Nikki's usual defences. It was simple, someone who knew Nikki had fed information to Tina about how best to become her friend. So who was the mystery man on the moors and was this the person who had told Tina about Nikki? Once more Nikki's head overflowed with questions that threatened to swamp her ability to think clearly as there was simply not enough information to generate the necessary answers. OK, so what was real? Tina's mobile number, that was a start. Tina also had an email address, but it was a GMail account and not an ISP or employer account which would have been easier to track. Aha, that was it! What Nikki needed now was access to a computer, the internet and a mobile phone. The solution to all of those needs was a little further down the road, Whiteleys Shopping Mall.
A few hours later Nikki was sitting in front of a PC in the mall's web cafe, sipping a much needed mochaccino with her left hand while her right hand worked away contentedly at the keyboard. The keyboard was the usual grimy fare and the chair was, well, saying it could cause severe spinal problems would be an understatement. But Nikki was in her element, manipulating the binary that would cause the undoing of her foe. Earlier, she had purchased a 3G mobile with a wireless broadband connection on a prepay SIM. The handset sat next to her on the desk, the battery charging up. Yet another purchase she would need to pay back to her unknown benefactor from Tavistock Police Station. She had also allowed herself some lunch before stepping into the eternal gloom of the web cafe. Nikki's plan was simple, she was currently completing a Trojan which she would email to Tina's account with the slim hope that Tina, or whoever she was, was still retrieving mail from that account. As soon as it was opened Nikki had her, the Trojan would identify the local IP Address and then, using a series of web based applications and databases, would convert this into a location which would be sent by email and SMS to Nikki's new mobile handset. Within minutes Nikki would know where Tina was. Tina was bound to open the email because Nikki had spoofed the address so it appeared to come from Eric's work account. If Tina was indeed involved in something nefarious to do with the bank then she would be too curious to help herself from opening it. Although Nikki was very pleased with herself, her plan was not without problems. Once she had Tina's physical location what then? Was she also in a web cafe and would leave by the time Nikki arrived? Was she using a computer at home and if so, what then? Nikki was starting to feel like she would eventually have to call in the Police to help arrest Tina. But did they even believe that Tina existed or were they just bent on getting Nikki back into a cell? She had to risk another call to Greg.
The call was answered almost immediately, "Greg here ...", Nikki hardly let him finish his greeting before she started speaking. "Greg, it's Nikki, what's going on at your end?" There was a pause and some background noise on the line before Greg spoke again, "Nikki, I am glad you called, we need to discuss how you will surrender yourself to the Police, the sooner the better." Nikki felt the hairs on her neck stand up, something was not right, Greg was asking something he had asked before and knew she would not agree to. He also sounded way too formal. They were tracing the call. Too bad, but she would have to leave the area ASAP, but the Police needed to hear this anyway. Ignoring his request Nikki went straight to the crux of the call "Greg, I am trying to trace Tina and should know where she is very soon. I can't tell you how, but once I know where she is then I will need to Police to arrest her. How can we do that?" Greg sighed quite audibly and then, in his normal voice, replied "Nikki, I know what you are trying to do but this is a job for the professionals. I have made some headway on this front, but the Police still have no real reason to look at anyone else but you for this. You need to help them understand the true story." "What about the video tape from the services?" Nikki exploded in exasperation, "The timestamp shows I could not have killed Eric!" Greg was empathetic "Yes, you are right, but right now the Police are not seeing it as a total alibi. What are you going to do now?" Nikki quickly considered her options, "Well, by now, the trace will be telling you that I am in London, but you already knew that. I will continue to evade capture until I can get a fix on Tina. Then I will call again, so be ready to convey the information to the London Met as we may only get one chance at this." That was the best she could do. Greg was somewhat resigned to the fact that Nikki was not going to turn herself in and was bent on pursuing this Tina character, "OK, I will do what I can, but I am not making promises. It is my responsibility to ..." Nikki glanced at her watch and then just hung up. That would be the last phone call from a public phone, her supply of coins had run out and the next call would be urgent so she would have to use the mobile. Walking casually away from the phone box on Queensway Nikki knew she needed to find somewhere to hang out until she got a fix on Tina. Obviously, Tina could be anywhere in the world by now, but Nikki was betting she would still be in London - at least until her and her partner had completed their plan. The problem was, Nikki had no idea what the plan was and how long it would take to complete, or if it even was already complete. She would just have to wait, but where? Somewhere central. Oxford Circus. It was only a short tub ride away and sat on three primary tube lines that could get her anywhere in greater London very quickly. Besides, it was a busy area with lots of crowds to hide in and there was always plenty to keep her entertained in the meantime.
By now it was mid afternoon and despite the cold, wet weather, Oxford Circus was still like, well, like a circus really. Street vendors selling hot food that could cause heart stopping cholesterol levels almost instantly, cheap knock-off sports strips, tatty souvenir copies of St Stephen's Tower, pillar boxes, phone boxes and Beefeater hats. Magazine stands shouting the latest newspaper headlines, bustling shoppers and tourists all mixed together on a throng of chaos where everyone wanted to be somewhere else, but had to get through the person in front of them to get there. Nikki shuffled past a store sporting a sign claiming they were having a closing down sale. The problem was that the sign was so old and faded that they must have been in the process of closing down for some years now. Traps for tourists and the gullible shopper. Pulling he hat down to obscure her hair and face, Nikki headed south along Regent Street before cutting right into Princes Street and just around the corner on Hanover Square Nikki ducked through the door of a pub she knew well. Inside all was warm, dry and comfortable with the lovely aroma of beer and bar food mingled with damp coats and something like cough syrup. Grabbing a paper from a rack Nikki made her way through the mostly vacant room to a nook just around the corner from the bar and parked herself with her back to the wall, facing the street window. Nikki didn't have to wait long, she had only half finished an article about a plane going down in India when her phone alerted her to an incoming message. Gently sliding open the keyboard the screen came alive and displayed one new Text Message. Just as she was reading the text another beep emitted to alert her to a new email arriving. The text was only a brief indicator that the trace had worked. The email would have the full details. Switching applications Nikki hungrily opened the email to discover what information it held. Her hands were suddenly sweaty and her heart beat quicker than usual. Skimming over the trace routes and other technical details her eyes landed on the thing she was after, an address.
(To be continued ...)