Yeovil Literary Prize
2008

Final Judging - Novel Category
Title: Mrs Jones
Reference: 11/EC02750/C001903/Z016
Decision:

  
  
Comments:

 

      

Synopsis

Lizzie Jones, a young British woman, arrives in New York to deliver a package.

Witnessing a hit and run is bad enough, but when the deceased is the person shes meant to meet and the driver wants the package bad enough to kill for it, LizzieҒs thrown into a nightmare.
 
Detective Tommy Connells a single dad with a string of bad breaks who needs a bust to keep his job. He reckons cute little Lizzie might be just the ticket, if he can get her to tell the truth. Connell has a way with the ladies, but as he soon learns, Lizzie Jones is like no lady heҒs ever met.

Travelling on a counterfeit passport, with his own nemesis the albino mobster Mo Pater snapping at her heels, Lizzie sets off all Connells internal alarms. Discovering the hit and run victim is a rogue operative from a murky government agency, whoҒs been leading a double life for two decades and lining his pockets with mob money. Connell realises theyve been pitched into something neither are equipped to deal with.
 
The Mob, want their money back. The Agency want it all hushed up and both believe that since Lizzie is the key to the money, sheҒs a valuable commodity. Both sides also agree that getting rid of Connell pretty sharpish, will improve their chances of success.
  
Setting out to solve the puzzle, Connell is inexplicably drawn back to his own chequered past and the murder of the mother of his child. Realising the two cases are connected and Lizzie is the witness who may help him finally obtain justice, he wonders whether justice is enough, when revenge is the outcome he craves.

One

She answered the door on the sixth knock. He knew that because he had counted. Six knocks, thirty seconds between knocks, three minutes. Hed raised his hand to give her the seventh; being as how seven was his lucky number and three and half minutes was as long as he was prepared to wait, but sheҒd beaten him to it. All the same six knocks, these werent palatial penthouse apartments; they were bedsits. What had taken her so long? Delays in answering the door in this neighbourhood were usually accompanied by the sounds of a hurriedly flushed toilet. On this occasion there was silence.

When the door finally opened, she left the chain on, which he supposed was sensible, but didnҒt make his job any easier or quicker. He had a hot date waiting. He checked his watch; if she was still waiting.

Taking out his badge, he flashed it through the crack in the door. MaӒam, New York Police Dept, Detective Connell. He made an effort to speak slowly and clearly, wondering if they were old folks and whether that could explain the delay in answering. ԓYou called in a report about a hit and run. Id like to speak with you if I may.Ҕ
 
He pulled his badge away just in time to avoid his hand being jammed as the door slammed closed. Rolling his eyes, he checked his watch again. She definitely wouldnt be waiting now. SheҒd be on her way home and deleting his number from her phone. That was twice hed stood her up, she wouldnҒt be letting him make it three. And that was a shame; she was a looker and no dummy either. No matter, probably for the best in the long run.
 
He was about to give her the seventh knock, when he heard the chain being slid. Placing a hand on the weapon holstered under his left arm, he watched as the door swung slowly inwards. All he needed now was some geriatric cop hater to come barrelling out with a sawn off Zimmer frame, so he stood off to one side of the door, just in case.

Connell had drawn the short straw on this case. Everyone else on the squad had more important things to do on a Friday night, than chase up old ladies who may or may not have seen an accident. Hed more important things to do; heҒd been on a promise after all. But he was on dicey ground and his arrest rate was looking bad. Hed been spending far too much time on impossible cases and this looked like an easy wrap. Find the old lady, confirm her statement and sign off on the case. Maybe his date would wait? Maybe pigs would fly.

ғHoney is your mom at home? he asked the young girl who peered anxiously at him from behind the door. She was slender and pale with a mop of unruly dark curls and wide dark eyes. Her feet resting one on the other were bare, her toe nails painted a vivid pink. She wore washed out jeans with holes at the knees and a baggy grey T shirt. Connell processed her slight frame in seconds and disregarded her. It was a necessary knack, identify and eliminate any risks; certainly in this neighbourhood. ԓIm looking for a...,Ҕ he pulled out his notebook and checked the name that hed scrawled down back at the station, ғMrs Jones, Mrs Elizabeth Jones.

The girl nodded, opened the door wide and he realised his knack for on the spot identification was slipping. She wasnԒt a young girl she was a young woman, who looked like she hadnt been sleeping too well and he knew exactly how that felt.

 ғIm Mrs Jones,Ҕ she said hesitantly in a soft, British accent. YouӒd better come in.

Connell wasnԒt often surprised; in his line of work it was a necessary requirement to be unflappable and unshockable, or at the very least to present that image to the public; but she was definitely not what hed been expecting. She was far too young for a start, didnҒt look old enough to be Mrs Anybody and she didnt sound like the voice on the tape. The voice had been muffled admittedly, but had sounded older and certainly not British. Either she hadnҒt made the call or the voice had been deliberately disguised. He narrowed his eyes, the first of his inner alarm bells had just gone off.

He followed her into the room. If she wasnt what heҒd expected, then the room certainly was. It was typical of a thousand more in this neighbourhood. Close your eyes, stick a pin in a map and you couldnt fail to come up with a place like this. Short term, low rent housing; where absentee landlords turned a blind eye and made a killing on the backs of the poor. Shabby without the chic, it comprised a bedsit with bathroom off. The furniture was old, the carpet threadbare, and the two ring cooker shouldҒve been condemned. There was a musty damp smell overlaid by a thin veil of perfume. He knew nothing about this girl, yet he knew that she didnt fit here.
 
He held out his hand, left it hanging in mid air for a matter of seconds and withdrew it with a shrug when she shifted her gaze, avoiding his eyes and his shake. She was nervous and he wondered why. He wasnҒt a scary guy, though there were plenty in his squad that were. He made allowances for the fact that nobody liked to have cops at the door, she didnt sound like a local and sheҒd just witnessed a death.

 I was expecting someone older,Ӕ he said.

 Oh.Ӕ
 
No explanation. Just oh,Ӕ as if that was all that was needed. She was waiting for him to continue and he recognised the type. Reserved, polite, intelligent, and apparently, not much of a talker. Especially to the police. Hed initiated this visit and it was obvious she intended to let him do all the work. He wondered why sheҒd called it in, if she didnt want to get involved.

ғYou made a 911 call about a hit and run, Im just here to take some more details.Ҕ
He tried a smile, the infamous Connell charm offensive. It seemed to work as she smiled back at him nervously. It was you who made the call?Ӕ he added uncertainly.

Yes it was. How did you find me?Ӕ she asked, I didnӒt leave my address.
 
ԓWe traced your call; you rang from the lobby downstairs. It wasnt difficult.Ҕ
 
The janitor had been very helpful, particularly when offered ten bucks, Sure there was a Mrs Jones, third floor apartment 13a. He smiled again, really wanted to ask why shed no cell phone, why sheҒd chosen to leave no contact details, why she didnt really want to be found, but decided to leave all that for later.

ғPlease have a seat, she said, good manners reinstated. As there was only one, piled with books, he sat on the edge of the bed to the accompaniment of creaking iron springs. ԓWould you like some tea, she asked with forced brightness. ԓOr perhaps youd prefer coffee. I have both.Ҕ
 
Glancing at the stack of free sample sachets on the counter top, he wondered if shed filled her pockets at the local diner. ғTea is fine Maam, if itҒs no trouble. His date was undoubtedly blown out of the water by now, he had no reason to hurry and his curiosity was piqued. There was something about her manner that was odd and Connell found anything odd, intriguing.

Connell scanned the room as she filled the kettle and turned on the gas beneath the aged hotplate, wincing as the gas ignited, thankful that it didnԒt explode. Shed only one cup that he could see, and apart from the freebie tea and coffee he could see no food. So she ate out a lot, that wasnҒt a crime, but again it was odd. In this neighbourhood folk tended to stay indoors after dark.
 
There were three books on the chair and a small travel bag under the bed that he could feel with his foot. No TV, no radio, not even a clock. He glanced through the open door at the ancient bathroom, a lone toothbrush stood propped on the cracked porcelain sink. Her coat hung on the back of the door, but other than that, there was nothing personal at all and certainly nothing to suggest a long stay or a Mr Jones. 
He took out his notebook again, hed found that most folks were happier talking to the cops if you made it look official.

ғMrs Jones, Elizabeth. Can I call you Elizabeth?

ԓLizzie is fine, she replied. Her small delicate hands shook slightly as she handed him his tea. ԓIm sorry I donҒt have any milk or biscuits either. She flushed, seemed embarrassed to be so ill prepared for visitors. Obviously didnԒt get many.
 
She didnt have another cup either; so she did without and moved the books from the single chair and sat cross legged upon it. Her feet tucked in somehow, in some weird yoga position, the books in her lap. He reckoned he was a pretty fit guy, light on his feet, no stranger to the gym, but he knew he could never tangle himself up like that. Respect to her agility he would have fallen off the chair.

He liked her voice, the softness made a welcome change from the nasal New York accent he was used to, he decided it was time he heard some more of it.

ғSo what brings you to New York, Lizzie, he asked. It was one of those ice breakers. He couldԒve chosen the weather; if the weather had been remarkable in any way. Or the football results if a major team had played recently, anything to put the witness at ease. Hed chosen the fact she was obviously a visitor because he thought it would give them a safe topic of conversation, where maybe she would tell him she was on a gap year and was travelling the world, and he would admit it was something he wished heҒd done. In the process he would size her up and get a handle on who she was and whether she was a credible witness.
 
But the look on her face when he asked the question, told him far more than hed hoped. She hesitated, just for a moment but it was enough to set off his second alarm.

ғYou said you needed more details about the hit and run, she said ignoring his question. ԓTheres really not much more to tell. A man got knocked down and I called 911. ThatҒs it really. She pulled at her hair, stretching and twirling at the curls nervously.
 
He made a note in his book to check with immigration and then he raised his head and looked at her; wrong answer. But if that was the way she wanted to play it, he could cut the small talk and get straight down to business. Only he kinda liked small talk and she was kinda cute.
 
ԓHow long have you been in the country? he asked directly.

ԓFive days, she replied and he shot her a glance. Only five days, he hadnԒt expected that.

So you witnessed the incident on the day you arrived? Quite a welcome, Huh?Ӕ

Mm, these things happen I suppose.Ӕ She shrugged delicately and he watched as she began to chew at her bottom lip. He was glad he wasnt in a hurry anymore. This was going to take some time. He loosened his tie and undid the top button of his shirt.

ғWhy did you call it in?
 
She looked a little surprised at his question. ԓBecause it was the right thing to do...wasnt it?Ҕ
 
Good answer, honest answer he hoped it was the first of many. Sure it was,Ӕ he replied, But not everyone is so public spirited, most folks would just turn the other way and keep on walking.Ӕ

Oh.Ӕ Again with the, Oh. But this time he translated it as Wish Id thought of that.

ғI see that you like to read.

ԓSorry?

HeԒd thrown her by his change of direction, and hed continue to do so until she told him what he wanted to know. He gestured to her lap. ғWhat are you reading? He could see that one was an A to Z of New York. God, that would put anyone to sleep, but necessary to find your way around a strange city. Actually, strike that! If he needed to find his way around a strange city heԒd just pick up a cab.

Oh, nothing special.Ӕ She patted the paperbacks gently with her hand and gave another little shrug. TheyӒre just what I picked up for the journey to while away the time.

All three books were well thumbed, including the A to Z. Three books in five days. That was pretty good going. ԓSo you havent done much sightseeing yet?Ҕ
 
Um, no not really,Ӕ she replied.
 
She kept glancing toward the door. She either wanted out of it or she was expecting someone to come through it, he wasnt sure which. But her nervousness was catching and he found himself tensing slightly in case it was the latter. He paused, let her sit a moment and took his time drinking his tea.
 
ғHave you been anywhere since you got here? he asked.

ԓUm, no not really, she replied again and he could hear the reluctant admittance in her voice. She found his questions disconcerting but good manners prevented her from saying so. Why she would find questions about her visit uncomfortable interested him. Why sheԒd stayed in her room for five whole days interested him more.

Okay, so you flew in five days ago from where?Ӕ

London.Ӕ

London Heathrow?Ӕ he asked and she nodded. You got any I.D?Ӕ

I.D?Ӕ

He wondered if she was being deliberately vague or maybe she was a little slow. Identity details, drivers licence, passport?Ӕ He tried another smile You know how it works. I show you mine and you show me yours.Ӕ She missed the pun entirely... British humour!
 
Oh, yes sorry.Ӕ She unfolded her legs and with visible reluctance got down from the chair. He moved his feet as she slipped her bag from under the bed. The bag wasnt huge. She rummaged for less than a moment, before pulling out the passport. He noticed the soft inhalation of a held breath as she handed the document to him.
 
Connell flicked through it, noted that the passport was new, that she hadnҒt travelled anywhere prior to arriving in the US and although her photo didnt do her justice, the likeness was pretty good. Better than his anyway. He did a quick calculation with her date of birth and decided she looked younger than thirty, way younger. He flicked his gaze between the girl and her photo; good genes maybe. Turning the passport over in his hands, he felt the material it was made from, flicked through the empty pages again, noted the travel documents stuffed in the back, had absolutely no reason to doubt its validity, but...
 
ғIll hang on to this if you donҒt mind, he said as he slipped it into his jacket and took note as her breath quickened, with poorly masked alarm.

ԓIs that allowed? she asked casually as she resumed her seat. He cocked his head trying to memorise the sequence in which she tangled her knees and feet, but she did it so quickly that he didnԒt quite get it.

Sure itӒs allowed, he replied with a smile, ԓIf youd booked into a hotel youҒd have had to leave it at the desk anyway. He wondered fleetingly whether that was why she hadnԒt used a hotel. YouӒll get it back, dont worry.Ҕ

What do you need it for?Ӕ she asked. 

She was a little too anxious, he thought. Just procedure,Ӕ he answered vaguely.

Okay,Ӕ she replied, and he was sure she wasnt okay but was too polite to refuse. ғBut what if someone asks to see it in the meantime?

ԓYou planning on going somewhere in the meantime? He was interested in where that might be, considering her apparent reluctance to leave her room. She shook her head. No, he didnԒt think so.

So, you came straight from the airport to this neighbourhood and on the way here you witnessed a hit and run.Ӕ

Um, Yes.Ӕ

Were you travelling alone Mrs Jones...Lizzie?Ӕ He could easily check but he wanted to ask, he was interested in her reactions and was rewarded by further hesitation. Strike three on his alarm register.

Yes I was.Ӕ

No Mr Jones?Ӕ 

No.Ӕ

Why here? Why, this neighbourhood?Ӕ

Why not?Ӕ

ItӒs a pretty rough round here; we dont see many tourists. Why not choose a hotel?Ҕ

She looked into space for a moment and he could tell she was asking herself the same question, and was finding difficulty with the answer. I just ended up here...IӒm not really sure how. Does that sound odd? She looked back at him then and blinked slowly. She had the longest eyelashes heԒd ever seen, but she could quit with the fluttering, he wasnt that green.

Of course it sounded odd, but he almost swallowed it. There was a strange naivety about her that made him think, yeah, that could have happened. She could have just wandered all the way from the airport and just happened to stroll through one of the roughest areas in the city, seen a man get killed and booked herself into the nearest apartment block. Yeah sure! Those pigs were flying again.

ғNot at all; did you get a cab from the airport? Again it was easy to check.

ԓYes.

ԓAnd where did you get dropped off?

She began to fiddle with the uppermost book on her lap, folding down the corner of the first page and then unfolding it again. ԓI cant really remember; is it relevant?Ҕ she asked and Connell smiled again and shook his head. He could check that as well.

No, not really IӒm just trying to understand what brought you to the spot where you witnessed what you saw. Just building a picture in my mind, thats all.Ҕ

Oh.Ӕ Again that single word, which came out as almost a sigh, relief maybe? Just what was she relieved about.
 
Time to get down to business, Tell me what you saw.Ӕ

She took a breath. I was waiting to cross the road; it was very busy and noisy. IӒm not used to so much traffic, it was a little scary. 

ԓIs London not busy? he asked. HeԒd never been to the UK himself but hed read about congestion charges.

ғI flew from London, but Im not from London, I donҒt live there.

ԓWhere are you from, he asked. She had walked in to that one without realising.

ԓI live out in the sticks, she smiled wistfully ԓWe dont even have a bus service.Ҕ

She had a sweet smile, he decided, with little dimples in her cheeks. So what brought you here?Ӕ Back to his first question, it had taken some time but he had her.

This and that,Ӕ she replied and the smile vanished along with the dimples. Okay, so he didnt have her yet. 

ғSo you were waiting at the lights.

ԓYes, and everyone surged across. People were pushing and shoving rather rudely and I hesitated, the cars were still coming.

He knew what she meant. You literally took your life in your hands crossing streets in this town. Usually it was easier to go with the flow. The trick was to make sure you were in the middle out of harmԒs way and if someone pushed, then you pushed them back even harder. It wasnt rude; it was survival though he couldnҒt imagine her pushing anyone. And then what?Ӕ

He was on the other side coming toward me, and he hesitated too.Ӕ She gazed into space and Connell watched her carefully, recognised the look of someone who was choosing their words thoughtfully, treading a narrow line with extreme care. It distracted him. She distracted him. Then suddenly he stepped out and a car hit him...Ӕ She faltered and he noted how her eyes widened as she relived the moment. He was flung into the air and landed on the bonnet.Ӕ
 
That bit was real, he decided. Even if everything else shed said was a pile of crap, she couldnҒt have faked that look in her eyes. Hed seen it before, many times; Shock, disbelief, and a touch of fear.

ғSo you saw him before he was hit? Out of all of those people waiting on the opposite kerb she had zeroed in on him. That was quite a coincidence.

She hesitated ԓWell yes...

ԓHow did he look?

She shrugged. ԓI dont know what you mean, he just looked normal, a man waiting to cross the road.Ҕ Her pale cheeks coloured slightly and she dipped her head as if aware of the change and anxious that he shouldnt notice.

Oh yeah, she was definitely stringing him along now. He just couldnҒt work out why.
Did he look distracted, happy or scared? Did he chat to anyone waiting with him at the kerb? Did he look like he was about to throw himself under a car?Ӕ Why him?

Like I said, he hesitated and so did I, so he sort of caught my eye. I didnӒt notice anything else about him.

He considered her reply for a moment, decided to let it go. There was more than one way to get to the truth. He was adept at most of them.
 
ԓOkay; what type of car?

ԓIve no idea. IҒm not good with cars. She arched one eyebrow ԓA big, American car.

ԓWhat colour?

ԓBlack,

ԓA big black car, he confirmed. ԓCould it have been a limousine? He knew that it was, he had other witnesses whoԒd given the exact make and model, but he wanted to know what shed seen and why she was the only one whoҒd called it a hit and run. Everyone else had simply seen an accident.

Possibly,Ӕ

Did you get a look at the driver?Ӕ Another hesitation and he was up to alarm number four. Normally folk were hauled in, or shot by the time they got to four, he wasnt known for his patience, but as seven was his lucky number and heҒd nothing better to do, he decided to let her continue.

No, the windows were tinted.Ӕ She shifted her gaze, looked at her feet, the books in her lap, anywhere but at him. And he so wanted to squeeze, just a little, to see what she would do. But he gave a lazy smile instead and continued.

He didnӒt stop and get out and check if the man was okay? He knew that he had. The other witnesses had confirmed it. He even had the name of the guy whoԒd been driving; hed waited around for the ambulance and police to arrive, given a full statement.

ғNo I didnt see anything else.Ҕ

Connell looked at what hed written; there were only three words each punctuated by a question mark; Immigration? Fear? Lies? But it was enough to go on. HeҒd also doodled four alarm bells. He changed tack.

IӒd like to speak with Mr Jones.

ԓMr Jones?

ԓYes; your husband, Mr Jones.

ԓHes not here,Ҕ she replied quickly, too quickly and the corner of the page came away in her hand. She looked at the fragment held between finger and thumb as if unsure what to do next. Slotting it back inside the cover of the book she lowered her lashes and tried to avoid his gaze once more.

Well, of course he wasnt here unless he was hiding under the bed. If he was here and he was any man at all, she wouldnҒt have read three books in five days. Maybe hed just left, maybe that explained the dark circles under her eyes. Maybe that explained the fear in her eyes. HeҒd seen too much in his line of work, not to jump to the occasional conclusion.

Was he with you when you witnessed the accident?Ӕ

No, he wasnӒt, she replied, and coloured a little more. 

ԓWhere is he now? he asked. She was trying very hard not to look him in the eye, and he tried very hard to make her.

ԓHes not here.Ҕ

You said that already,Ӕ and he waited for her to say, Oh, again.

HeӒs gone.
 
Maybe not, maybe sheԒd run out of Ohs. ғOkay, when will he be back?

ԓIm not sure.Ҕ

Well, that pretty much summed it up, she wasnt sure of anything. He tried again.
 ғDo you expect him to come back?

ԓNot really, no.

Connell added two more words to his list; Mr Jones? and underlined them. He settled his gaze on her, gave her a reassuring smile and one more opportunity. ԓCan you think of anything else that you think I should know?

ԓIm not sure what it is, that you think you should know.Ҕ
 
Now that was a little too clever and evasive for a little English cutie and despite her cuteness he was getting just a little tired of her evasiveness. He sighed, folded his notebook and replaced it in his inside jacket pocket alongside her passport. As he did, his jacket brushed open to reveal his holstered gun and he saw how her eyes widened fearfully when she caught sight of it. Okay, so she was English. English cops werent ordinarily armed so he could understand her reaction, but despite making allowances for her, he decided to leave his jacket open. It did no harm for her to realise the folly of playing games with New YorkҒs finest and she was definitely playing something.
 
Okay, Lizzie letӒs lay it out in the open. He rose from the bed, shoved his hands in his trouser pockets and leaned himself casually against the back of the door. ԓI need to know why you saw a hit and run and everyone else saw an accident. Why you didnt see the driver and everyone else did and why youҒre lying to me? I really couldnt give a shit about why youҒre here in the U.S, or whether your hubby has lit out, but I do need to know what you saw and I need the real version not the one you made up when I walked in the door.

Her mouth actually dropped open with shock. HeԒd never seen a reaction like that, that wasnt a con. But it looked real to him, and for a moment he thought that heҒd got it wrong and she was telling the truth. Then she quickly snapped that sweet little mouth shut and he knew he was on the money.
 
She swallowed and glanced nervously past him at the door. He knew she was contemplating making a run for it which is exactly why he was stood there. No, he hadnt got it wrong. She looked at the window, but heҒd already written that off as a non starter. She sure was some bendy chick and might have the agility to make it through the window and down the fire escape ahead of him, but no way did she have the muscle to raise the sash. That sucker was well painted shut.

He studied her expression as she considered her options, counted the seconds in his head and got to number seven which was kinda weird, seven being his lucky number and all; and saw the exact moment when she gave it up. Relief settled in her eyes as she gave a slight, hopeless shrug.

He was white, with white blond hair and sunglasses, an albino maybe and he saw me, looked straight at me... and I ran.Ӕ It came out in a rush, as if shed been hanging onto it with some effort.

ғWho are we talking about here?

ԓThe driver.

Connell paused, took a breath and continued. ԓWhy, why did you run?

ԓBecause he saw me and I was scared that hed come after me.Ҕ

Hed knocked a guy over, big deal. It happened all the time, tragic probably avoidable but an accident nonetheless. It wasnҒt usual for drivers to jump out of their cars and set off after hapless witnesses. Why would he come after you, it was just an accident?Ӕ

No it wasnӒt, it was a hit and run and I saw what he did.

ԓDo you know what a hit and run is? Maybe it meant something else in EnglandԒs rural backwater.

She looked at him squarely then, raised an eyebrow, and he saw the tiniest glimmer of attitude sparkle in her dark eyes. IӒm English, not stupid. Of course I know what a hit and run is. Its when someone hitҒs someone else and then makes off so they dont get caught.Ҕ
 
But he didnӒt make off. He waited around for the police and ambulance.

ԓNo he didnt. He got out of the car and disappeared into the crowd, but before he did, he ran over the man twice to make sure he was dead.Ҕ
 
Connell stopped her with a raised palm. Hang on, back up. YouӒre saying this albino guy knocks our man over, reverses over him on a busy street, then calmly gets out of the car and walks away.
 
ԓNot reversed, the man... she paused as if recalling the details. ԓ...the man bounced off the bonnet and landed in front of the car. The driver stopped, looked at me, then drove over him again.

Connell tried to picture it, the guy bouncing off the hood, it seemed unlikely somehow. ԓHow did you know he was dead?

ԓSorry?

ԓYou said he ran over him twice to make sure he was dead; how did you know he was dead?

The girl blinked, uncertain, fearful almost. ԓIs he not dead?
 
ԓSure hes dead, but how did you know that?Ҕ

She visibly relaxed, which he found odd indeed when discussing the demise of a total stranger.

He...he had no face left...afterwards; just lots of blood.Ӕ

He winced, yeah, that would do it. Okay, but how come no one but you saw what the driver did?Ӕ

She shrugged again and he wished that she hadnt, he was beginning to find the casual movement distracting. ғI only know what I saw; I cant speak for your witnesses.Ҕ

Connell wondered who the other witnesses were, made a mental note to check the file when he got back. He was starting to realise that this wasnt going to be the easy wrap that heҒd been promised. Do you think this guy got a good look at you?Ӕ

Yes...he smiled at me.Ӕ
 
He smiled at you?Ӕ

Yes, but not in a nice way.Ӕ She closed her eyes briefly and winced. More of a sneer really. He had a gold tooth.Ӕ

Connell pulled his attention away from her shadowy downcast eyelids, evidence of many sleepless nights. You were so close that you could see his teeth?Ӕ

IӒd started to cross the road after the others; I stopped in the middle when it happened and he looked at me.

ԓDid he say anything, do anything else?

She hesitated a stroke, and when she replied there was a catch in her throat. ԓHe did this. She held up her right hand in the shape of a gun and the barrel of the gun shook.

No wonder sheԒd run, no wonder she was holed up here like some hermit. Do you believe that you might be in danger from him?Ӕ

There was a significant pause, before her response and Connell suppressed the smile that threatened as he read the tell tale flush sweeping her face when she finally answered.

You tell me. New York is a big place I thought perhaps he wouldnӒt be able to find me.

ԓI found you easily enough.

ԓBut youre the police.Ҕ

Connell looked away. If there was any truth at all in what shed said and the albino was involved then she was in more trouble than she imagined.
 
He knew of only one albino, Mo Paters a man with glittering teeth. Connell knew all about Mo Paters and the organisation he ran. Mo Paters was not the driver whoҒd waited for the emergency services; he knew that already. The guy whod waited was a Clifford Reay, Fifty Four years old, first day on the job and he was going to lose his licence. HeҒd been real cut up about the accident, ended up going to the ER in the back of the ambulance, but anyone could be bought with enough money including witnesses.
 
He knew that all too well.
 
He needed to look into the victim, wasnt sure whether heҒd been I.Dd yet. Why would Mo want to kill some random guy? It didnҒt make sense. But, then again, neither did Mrs Jones.

Pulling away from the door he crossed to the window, she had a wonderful view; fire escapes and garbage cans.

What are you really doing here,Ӕ he asked again.

Waiting,Ӕ she replied.
 
For what?Ӕ He looked at her when she failed to answer. She had amassed a small pile of shredded paper on her lap. Her hands were still shaking.

For someone to help me,Ӕ she whispered and she drew up her knees, wrapped her shaking hands around them and hugged them tightly.

He looked about again at the room, there was nothing here. Had she been holed up here for the last five days, with nothing to eat and no one to turn to? Shed done the right thing. SheҒd called it in, and then waited five whole days for someone to find her. He felt a twist in his gut.

Do you know anyone in New York?Ӕ

No.Ӕ

What about Mr Jones?Ӕ

HeӒs not coming back.

ԓWhy not? and she replied with that little shrug again; He decided it said far more than any words she could have uttered. She was scared and alone and a long way from home. Not a nice place to be.

ԓThen we need to get you out of here.

ԓI cant go home,Ҕ she said Not yet,Ӕ and she scrubbed at her eyes with the heel of her hand. He hadnt noticed that sheҒd been crying; the tears had rolled silently down her cheeks while hed been trying to trip her up. Probably relief, but she neednҒt have worried. No way was she going home. Not yet anyway, he had her passport.
 
More importantly, if she was telling the truth and that was one hell of an, if. She was the witness hed dreamt about for the last two years. She was the witness who was going to help him close the biggest, impossible case of his career and the worst chapter of his life.

He stepped to the door cracked it open and glanced down the hall. It was empty. He crossed the landing and looked down the stairwell. He was being paranoid there was no one there, but sheҒd just leap frogged to number ten on his alarm system, and by rights that meant that she should be dead already. Well you canӒt stay here, he added as he came back into the room. ԓGet your stuff youre coming with me.Ҕ

Where to?Ӕ

Somewhere safeӔ

Is there such a place...somewhere safe?Ӕ

Sure there is. As long as youӒre with me, youre safe.Ҕ

Two

Friday night, and the station was typically heaving, with drunks, pushers and prostitutes. Connell nodded at George the booking officer and guided the girl with a hand on her back, through the noise and the crush, the vomit and piss known as the booking hall, and up the stairs to the squad room. By comparison the room was a sea of calm, empty and quiet. The on duty guys had been called out on a bust and by rights Connell should have called it a day hours ago. But in this job you were never totally off duty.

Dropping her bag he gestured to a seat on the opposite side of his desk. She hadnt said a word on the journey in. Spent the entire time hunkered down in her seat as if she expected the albino would reach his hand in through the window and grab her. She looked scared, as if the fear had been building slowly inside for the past five days and now that sheҒd told someone, it was leeching out of her pores. He knew what that kind of fear felt like; how it could multiply like an unchecked virus if you let it.

He also knew that she wasnt telling him the whole truth.

ғCan I get you a coffee? he asked, then, remembering the empty loneliness of her room. ԓYou want something to eat? I can send out for something. She shook her head and looked at the floor. She needed to eat something, he could see that. She looked fragile, undernourished, her pale skin almost translucent. But he couldnԒt force her. He needed something to eat too. He would have been well fed and preparing for dessert by now if he hadnt stood his date up.

ғOkay, maybe later. He wasnԒt sure what to do with her later. Hed thought about protective custody; locking her in one of the cells, at least sheҒd be safe, but the look on her face as theyd come through the booking hall had knocked that idea out of his head. She was terrified. What did he expect; she was from a village with no bus for GodҒs sake. Shed probably never seen the inside of a police station and the village bobby probably rode his beat on a bicycle. He wondered how sheҒd cope on the stand if she ever got that far.

He pulled up a variety of images from his computers rogueҒs gallery and printed them out. I want you to look at some mug shots, see if you can find the driver. If you see him shout up, IӒll grab us a coffee from the machine. Itll rot the lining of your stomach, but itҒll also keep you awake. He needed her awake and alert, no matter that it was past midnight and she looked like she hadnԒt slept for the past five days.

He left her with the collection of photos spread across the desk, a motley collection of miscreants which included Mo Pater. He didnt expect this part to take long. He wasnҒt so sure about her statement though and it needed it to be word perfect or itd be pulled to shreds by PaterҒs defence.
 
The coffee machine was playing up which was hardly surprising considering the amount of abuse it took on a regular basis. It took a few well aimed kicks before it consented to behave, with a hiss of escaping steam and a grinding of its internal mechanism.
 
You still here, Connell?Ӕ 

He turned at the voice from behind and schooled his features. Musgrave didnt figure very highly on his buddy list. In fact, if heҒd a minus line on his list Musgrave would be well below it. The man was always sniffing around. Never seemed to be doing anything constructive but always seemed to know what was going on. He was up for promotion and doing everything possible to ingratiate himself with those further up the ladder. Connell didnt do ingratiation, didnҒt understand the concept, would never move up the ladder, felt it sufficient to hang on right where he was. He swallowed his distaste for the man.

Yeah, sad I know; just tying up a few loose ends before I hit the sack.Ӕ

I hear you got the old lady. You turn anything up?Ӕ

Connell glanced at the man before dropping his gaze to the coffee machine and retrieving the Styrofoam cups. What do you think? Old ladies, they imagine all kinds. She couldnӒt even remember her own name.

ԓSo whos the extra coffee for?Ҕ Musgrave eyed him slyly and Connell straightened and stepped forward causing the man to take a step back. He cocked his head and smiled at him. Not the Connell charm offensive this time, but the Connell dont fuck with me offensive, which was altogether more offense than charm.

ғIm on a promise Buddy and you know what these girls are like. She just wouldnҒt sit and wait in the car. Now, I know I can rely on your discretion, wouldnt want the whole squad to know what I get up to when theyҒve all gone home.

Musgrave licked his lips, and Connell did well to hide his revulsion.
 
ԓShe a looker, Connell?Ҕ

What do you think?Ӕ

Lucky guy; Well, IӒll leave you to it, dont stay up too late Romeo, youҒre supposed to be on earlies tomorrow.

How did Musgrave know what rota he was on? What business was it of his anyway? The guy should get himself a life. ԓIve got some time off,Ҕ replied Connell which was just as well, hed far too much going on to find the time to come to the office and fill out goddamn forms. ғI called in few favours. Ive been doing a lot of extra hours lately...chasing up crazy old ladies.Ҕ

Musgrave smiled. Well easy does it Connell.Ӕ 

Sure thing,Ӕ replied Connell, and fuck you too, he added silently as he watched the guy until he disappeared from view round the corner. He didnt know why heҒd just lied, knew it was the right thing to do, but accepted that in doing so hed crossed the line. Once Lizzie Jones got into the system, she was out of his control. He needed to keep control and he needed this particular bust to hang onto the ladder and his sanity.

With a coffee in each hand, he used his shoulder to push open the office door and schooled his features. He didnҒt want to scare her more than she already was and equally didnt want to reveal the importance of her statement. But the chance to put Mo Pater behind bars was just too immense to contemplate. He would gladly have sold his soul to the devil for such an opportunity, and now it had dropped in his lap. He couldnҒt quite believe his luck.

Hed been gone minutes, if that, and yet the chair where heҒd left her was empty. Fuck. He slammed the coffees onto the desk and swung around cursing as the hot liquid splashed the back of his hand. How had she got past him, hed been right outside in the goddamn hall. He realised she couldnҒt have. He calmed himself, scanned the room again and found her curled up asleep on the battered leather sofa behind the door. If shed put her thumb in her mouth she couldnҒt have looked more vulnerable and he experienced a moment of gut wrenching doubt, about using her. Once it was known that hed a witness, her position would become precarious to say the least.
 
One arm dangled over the edge of the sofa; in her outstretched hand was the printed image of the albino Mo Pater. The remainder of the prints were scattered on the floor. Squatting, balancing on the balls of his feet, he gathered them up into a neat pile and replaced them on the desk. He took out his notebook and the passport, then slipped off his jacket and laid it gently over her. He took back MoҒs picture. It was creased where shed held it and he smoothed it out. He looked at her again, asleep on his couch. With a sigh, he resisted the urge to reach out and smooth a stray curl back from her face. HeҒd work to do. Her statement could wait.

Connell called his contact in immigration, who just happened to be one of his very best buddies. Immigration was first on his list for a very good reason, he needed to know exactly who she was; a full background check and he needed to know why she was here. She hadnt answered his questions when heҒd asked, so hed ask the people who ought to know, the people from homeland security whose job it was to know.
HeҒd woken Marty up, forgot that it was the middle of the night and that other people actually went to bed. He answered on the seventh ring.

I need a favour Marty,Ӕ he kept his voice low so as not to wake the girl, but more importantly in the hope it reduced the chance of Martys wife being disturbed. Charlene was a force to be reckoned with and Connell knew from long experience that it didnҒt pay to get on her wrong side.
 
Marty groaned. Do you know what time it is Connell.Ӕ

Sure I do but itӒs an emergency.

ԓWhy is it always an emergency with you, and why is it always after midnight. Have you no standard cases you can work during the day?

ԓYou know how it goes Marty, lean pickings at the moment, and Ive got to go with the flow.Ҕ

Okay,Ӕ he grumbled IӒm awake now so make the most of it. What do you need?
ԓI need a full check on a girl who flew in from London Heathrow on the twenty first. I need to know everything youve got and anything you can get from your buddies in the UK.Ҕ

Why, whatӒs she done?

ԓNothing, but I need to know shes credible.Ҕ

As a witness?Ӕ

Amongst other things.Ӕ

A witness to what?Ӕ

Connell laughed. If I told you, IӒd have to kill you Marty.

ԓBetter not tell me then, answered Marty ԓBut I need some details, Im good but IҒm not that good.

ԓIve got her passport. I need you to do that thing you do with that cool machine of yours. Can I drop it off?Ҕ

Tonight?Ӕ

Sure,Ӕ He glanced at his watch, twelve forty five and counting. Rubbing wearily at gritty eyes he added. I can be there in an hour.Ӕ

I donӒt bring my cool machine home with me Connell; its kinda big and expensive. I donҒt think my boss would let me. Anyway, the passport will have gone through the checks when she came through arrivals, if there was any suspicion with her or it, theyd have flagged it up.Ҕ

Maybe not.Ӕ

How so?Ӕ

SheӒs not the type who would arouse suspicion. Who was he kidding, sheԒd certainly aroused his.

Cute?Ӕ

He glanced at her sleeping peacefully under his coat. Vulnerable.Ӕ

Marty sighed. Okay, drop it off and IӒll see what I can do first thing, but I wont have anything before midday.Ҕ

I owe you one buddy.Ӕ

You owe me more than one, Connell.Ӕ

Sure I do. Say, Marty, will Charlene be up and about when I get there?Ӕ He needed to psych himself up if she would. She was a big woman with a lethal tongue on her and it was Charlenes baby sister that heҒd just stood up.

Well that all depends on how quiet you are; she was worn out consoling her sister. You know how it goes...some jerk stood her up...again.Ӕ

Ha ha, you know that girl was never gonna be happy with me, I did her a favour by not turning up.Ӕ

Well, you keep working on that story, buddy. By the time you get here you might sound convincing enough to get past Charlene. But I can tell you, sheӒs been playing righteous mommy bear all evening and shes looking for revenge.Ҕ

Revenge.Ӕ

You know, poor girl gets shafted by arrogant swine...Ӕ

I didnӒt get anywhere near shafting her, I stood her up remember.

ԓOkay, wrong choice of words; just be ready for an ear bashing. See ya buddy.

A slow smile spread across his face as he clicked the phone down. ItԒd be fine, not even Charlene was immune to the Connell charm.

Okay, back to the list. 

Fear...

Well yeah, hed be a mite anxious if Mo Pater was after him, but he knew who Mo Pater was, knew what he was capable of, the business he was in. HeҒd been after him for long enough. So yeah, if Mo Pater pointed a make believe gun at him he might reasonably conclude that to be a threat. But Mrs Lizzie Jones from the village with no bus didnt know him, so why would she have taken his gesture as anything more than a sick joke. More importantly why would Mo Pater have considered some random face in the crowd to be of significant risk to him as to warrant his making a threat? 
There was something here that he was missing. In fact he suspected there was probably a lot that he was missing and he needed to find out what it was pretty sharpish.

A visit to Mr Pater might throw some light on the matter but it was a mite too early to go showing his hand. Alternatively a visit to the driver Mr Clifford Reay, who was presently languishing in hospital cultivating a personal injury claim; on the basis that the poor guy who got mashed by his car stepped out deliberately, might be just the ticket. But even Connell, who paid little heed to convention, wouldnҒt risk gate crashing the hospital at one in the morning. Who knows when he might need the services of the emergency room himself and it certainly didnt pay to get on their blacklist.

He checked his list again. 

Lying...

Well she had been, initially but then sheҒd thought better of it and come clean. And his investigations would no doubt reveal how clean. He doubted she was whiter than white but why lie at all? If she was as scared as she made out, why hadnt she left her details when sheҒd called in, why risk not being found at all by the police, if help was really what she was waiting for?

He finished the first coffee and started on the second, deciding he needed it more than her, and reluctant to wake her before he needed to. He had fifteen minutes tops before he needed to make tracks for Martys, but that was enough time to pull up a list of the witnesses who all swore to Clifford ReayҒs version of events. He scanned the list; no names leapt out at him, but the addresses were as he expected, all from the same neighbourhood where hed found Lizzie.
 
He ran a cross check and only Clifford came up with any form. Small time really, petty theft, benefit fraud and default on child maintenance. Connell grimaced, now that just wasnҒt right. A man should care for his kids, and a man who didnt needed some pressure applied. He printed the lists and tucked the folded pages inside his notebook.

One item left on his list.

Mr Jones.

He pondered over it for a moment, wasnҒt really sure why he had thought it significant enough to note, other than curiosity about why the guy had run off and left his cute wife. There was a story here for sure, but whether it had anything to do with his investigation was anybodys guess.
 
One fifteen and it was time to go. He smiled wryly, heҒd much rather be going home to bed. But these days, it seemed that what he wanted bore little resemblance to what he actually got. He took back his jacket and retrieved his notebook and the passport, which he slid inside an envelope before stowing in his pocket. She stirred and he leaned over and shook her the rest of the way awake.

We gotta go honey.Ӕ

She opened her eyes, looked straight at him and remembered with sudden clarity why she was there. He saw it, recognised the fear, which was quickly guarded as her eyes focused on him Go where?Ӕ she asked.

Someplace else, I got things to do, people to see. I can leave you here with the duty officer...Ӕ Thats exactly what he should do, he knew that, but he didnҒt want to, wasnt going to. He didnҒt want to let her out of his sight.

No,Ӕ she replied hurriedly and she struggled to her feet, rubbing her eyes, trying for alert, settling for awake. I only know one person in New York and thatӒs you.

ԓOkay. That suited him just fine, but if she knew no one but him, what did that say about Mr Jones? ԓBut you do exactly as I say and stick close.

He hustled her out of the office and down the hall. ԓYou need to use the bathroom before we leave? She nodded vaguely and realised they were stopped outside the ladies room. ԓGo on then Ill be right across the hall.Ҕ He hesitated before opening the door to the mens room. ғNow dont you go, believing anything you read on the walls in there Mrs Jones, those ladies have dirty minds...Ҕ He winked at her and she rewarded him with the sweetest smile.

****
Lizzie leant against the chipped counter and closed her eyes. Steadied her breathing and calmed her nerve. Now what? Everything was going wrong and she hadnt a clue how to put it right. Could it be put right? She wasnҒt alone anymore, and after five days living in fear, that had to be an improvement. Or perhaps shed simply jumped out of the frying pan into the fire. She had no way of knowing for sure.

The detective, Connell, didnҒt believe her, she knew that. She could tell by the way hed looked at her, smiled at her; humoured her. She wasnҒt a fool, although she guessed he suspected she was. But she couldnt tell him the truth. She was in too deep for that. HeҒd said shed be safe with him and he certainly looked like he could take care of himself. He had an air of self assurance and determination about him and despite his undoubted charm, it gave him an edge. But could he look after her as well? And would he still want to when he worked it all out?
 
What alternative did she have? She was alone in a strange country, with a very real fear that sheҒd started something she couldnt stop. Sure, she was under police protection, or more likely police suspicion, but it didnҒt quell the fear that curled in her belly. It would take a lot more than a policeman with a cocky smile to do that. 
She opened her eyes slowly, caught her reflection in the mirror and shook her head sadly. It wasnt good, which was hardly surprising given the last few days. She reached into her bag, dashed some colour on her lips and forced a weary smile.  You can do this, she whispered.

****

ғWhat do you do for a living, in your little village with no bus? Connell asked as he forced his way out onto the freeway with much blaring of horns and raised fingers. This time of night the roads were still busy, but a whole lot quieter than through the day and once he got across town heԒd be on empty blacktop all the way to Martys. He scrubbed a hand across his stubble, he needed a shave and he needed to stay awake. He glanced at her when she didnҒt answer, noticed shed spruced herself up a little and smiled to himself. ғHey, come on talk to me, you gotta keep me from falling asleep at the wheel.

ԓIm a student,Ҕ she yawned, covering her mouth politely with one small delicate hand.

A thirty year old student...okay maybe she wasnt so bright. ғStudying what? He guessed English Lit, solely because she was a pretty nifty reader.

ԓIm a student nurse... well, ex student actually, IҒve just finished my degree. SheԒd hesitated a little too long before answering but he gave her that one for free. Shed surprised him with her reply and he liked surprises.

ғReally? He gave her a sideways glance, ԓYou got a cute uniform?

She rolled her eyes and he caught the faintest of smiles. ԓNot with me.

ԓShame, He kept his eyes on the road and added a smile of his own. SheԒd loosened up a little. He wanted to keep it that way.
 
So, they were right what they wrote about you in the ladies room,Ӕ she replied a little coyly. As if she wasnt used to banter and was trying hard for his benefit. To entertain him or distract him? He couldnҒt decide. He reined himself in, unsure of what her real story was and unwilling to push too hard in case she really was as innocent as she was making out. He hadnt been in the ladies room, but had a good idea what might be written. Those ladies sure liked to vent. 

ғYou like your job? he asked. Better to change the subject before he backed himself into a corner, and lost the upper hand. But the trouble with imagination was that it kept on going when you wanted it to stop. He chanced another quick look and imagined.

ԓI do.

ԓSo what are you doing here, and why dont you want to go home?Ҕ He watched as the shutters come hurtling down. Okay, so she hadnt quite done with lying. And actually when he thought about it, she hadnҒt said she didnt want to go home, sheҒd said, she couldnt.
 
MartyҒs house was in darkness when they arrived apart from a low light in the kitchen. Connell took the girls arm and guided her round the back, across a mine field of discarded toys. He cursed softly when his shin caught the trainer wheels of an upturned bike and she grabbed at him, when she stumbled over an empty paddling pool. Her hand flailing wildly in the darkness inadvertently caught at his holster as she tried to stay upright. He lifted her clean off the ground with her wrist up her back, and her waist in a vice grip before she could draw breath. She squeaked with fear and he released her immediately, and took a breath of his own.

ғSorry, habit, bit touchy around the gun... you okay? She nodded wordlessly and rubbed at her wrist.

Marty stood in the kitchen in his boxers, hair on end, feet bare. ԓTommy, you didnt say you were bringing a guest along.Ҕ He yanked a wrinkled T-shirt out of the laundry basket, tugged it on and winked. CharleneӒs on her way down. You want coffee, its fresh?

ԓSure Marty thanks. He pulled out the envelope ԓAnd heres what I owe you, thanks for the loan.Ҕ

Marty looked from the plain brown passport sized envelope to the girl and nodded. No sweat Tommy, anytime; you gonna introduce us?Ӕ

This is Lizzie Jones. SheӒs had a rough night.

ԓPleased to meet you Lizzie, Im Marty, long suffering friend of Tommy boy here, and this...Ҕ He turned as the kitchen door swung open and the largest lady ever, swept in, a sleeping baby over one shoulder. ...Is my wife Charlene, and youngest son, Milo.Ӕ

Lizzie smiled tentatively and sidled close to Connell; half hid herself behind him and Connell wondered why. She had no reason to fear anyone here.
 
Hello,Ӕ she said simply I do hope we didnӒt wake you.

Charlene harrumphed loudly and zeroed in on Connell. ԓWhy you two timing low life, you been hitting on this little girl, while my poor Cynthia cries herself to sleep?

She passed the baby to her husband and Connell backed off hands in the air. ԓNow Charlene you got it all wrong, this heres Mrs Jones, sheҒs a respectable English lady and Im just doing my job.Ҕ

She turned to Lizzie. Honey I donӒt care if you are a married lady, he dont know what respectable is...my advice for what itҒs worth, stay clear.

Connell cocked his head and smiled. ԓCome on Charlene, you know the only reason I stood Cynthia up was because I knew I wasnt good enough for her, and she knows that too. Hell, sheҒs gonna end up with someone real respectable, like a doctor or a lawyer, you want that for her dont you?Ҕ Charlene sniffed. And so does she, so a few tears now will save her a future full of them...yeah?Ӕ

YouӒre a bad man, Tommy, she chuckled and enveloped him in a bear hug which he returned as best he could, but at twice the weight sheԒd the upper hand. She released him before his chest was totally crushed and he winked at Lizzie.
 
DonӒt know about bad, Charlene. But I do know that I could eat a horse, you got anything nice on the stove? Charlene shook her head.

ԓIts two in the morning Connell, the only thing I got warming on my stove is MiloҒs bottle, and I expressed that earlier, so I doubt that youll be wanting any of that.Ҕ Connell rolled his eyes and Marty chuckled. 

Too much information; CoffeeӒs fine, black if you dont mind.Ҕ If hed much more of the stuff heҒd be climbing the walls. He turned to Lizzie who shook her head. He could tell by the look on her face, the barely concealed grimace, that last thing she wanted was coffee.

Marty handed the baby to Connell while he poured the coffee, and Connell passed the baby to Lizzie while he helped him carry the mugs to the kitchen table. The baby stirred aware that he was not being held in the ample bosom of his mom, and opened his mouth to grizzle. Lizzie cuddled him in, patted his back gently and the baby settled back to sleep.

The girlӒs a natural, said Charlene as she took the bottle from the pan on the stove and tested the heat of the milk on the back of her hand, ԓYou got kids honey?

ԓUm no, replied Lizzie.
 
ԓNo of course you dont, you donҒt look old enough to have kids. Lizzie smiled tiredly. ԓHow long you been married honey?єShe added and Connell paused with the coffee mugs.

Too long,Ӕ Lizzie replied and smothered a yawn, looked for somewhere to sit and for someone to suggest that she could. The baby was a darling, warm and cuddly with olive skin and a wonderful baby talc smell, but he was also heavy and the sound of his steady breathing made Lizzie feel even more tired.

Putting down the mugs, Connell reached over, took back the baby and passed him to his mother. He gestured to the sofa in the family room adjacent to the kitchen Go sit and rest awhile Lizzie, IӒm just catching up with Marty.

Lizzie nodded and padded through the dimly lit room. Kicking off her shoes she curled up in the corner of the couch and gratefully shut her eyes.

ԓListen guys said Charlene. ԓIm gonna love you and leave you, and take this little one back to bed.Ҕ She turned to Connell. Now you both stay as long as you want, and Marty, make sure theyӒve got what they need, they want fed then you feed them, okay? She glanced at the girl on the sofa and dropped her voice. ԓAnd you Tommy, you just remember that youre meant to be a gentleman...you hear?Ҕ Then she kissed her husband, clipped the back of Connells head affectionately with her outstretched hand and left them to it.

Marty turned to Lizzie. ғMilo doesnt sleep very often...when he sleeps we all sleep, or we do without and weҒve got another five kids upstairs in bed, so it gets kinda tiring.

She didnԒt answer, she was already asleep herself.

I appreciate this Marty,Ӕ said Connell as he downed the hot liquid as quickly as he could. Look, weӒll be on our way and you can get to your bed.

ԓAnd where are you going next? asked Marty as he glanced at the sleeping girl. Connell shrugged, hadnԒt really thought. He knew where he was going when it got light. He was going to pay Clifford an early morning visit. But they were still some way off light. Stay here if you like.Ӕ Marty offered.

Connell was tempted but he shook his head, Thanks buddy, but you got kids upstairs and I donӒt know what kind of shit I may be stirring up.

ԓWell, leave the girl here, suggested Marty, and Connell shook his head again.
 
ԓSomeones a little too interested in her for me to leave her anywhere. I reckon we come as a package until I know what IҒm dealing with.

ԓAre you gonna tell me whats going on, whoҒs looking for her Tommy?

ԓI wish I knew what was going on, and I hope with your help I find out soon.

ԓWhos looking for her Tommy,Ҕ repeated Marty, Like you said I got six kids upstairs, I think I have a right to know.Ӕ

Connell looked away, thought about lying but decided that he couldnt, not to his best buddy. ғMo Pater.

Marty looked at him, felt his stomach heave and experienced an immense feeling of foreboding; hadnԒt wanted to ever hear that name again. Why?Ӕ

Connell shrugged and rubbed tiredly at his eyes, it had been a long day and it wasnt over yet. He was running on pure coffee and adrenalin and knew that he would hit the wall soon. ғShe saw something she shouldnt, she saw someone killed.Ҕ He glanced over at her; she was out for the count. And sheӒs scared, but something doesnt fit and IҒm hoping you can shed some light. Ill call you tomorrow, just do the best you can with the passport.Ҕ

Marty slipped the passport out of the envelope and flicked through it quickly I can tell you something for nothing.Ӕ

Yeah?Ӕ

No way is this her passport.Ӕ He held it up open at the photo page.

Connell put down his coffee and glanced at her, she was still sleeping. How come?Ӕ

No way is she thirty years old, come on Tommy you slipping or what, that girl is lucky if sheӒs out of her teens.

He grabbed back the passport and squinted at the photo, Marty was right, of course he was right. ԓSo shes travelling on someone elseҒs passport.

ԓLooks like.

ԓSo who the hell is she?

ԓFucked if I know Tommy?

ԓYou gonna find out for me?

ԓNo sweat Tommy, but its not wise to drag her around with you. If sheҒs a witness then you may compromise her testimony, and if shes a suspect youҒll compromise the case. Connell knew he was right but he worked by his own rules, and no way was he letting go of her.

ԓSure Marty I hear you, but I know what Im doing.Ҕ

Do you Tommy? Do you really? I know how much you want Mo Pater, but be very careful. If this girl has come in to the U.S on a false passport, then Mo wonӒt be the only one interested in her.

ԓThe Feds?Ҕ

Of course, and you donӒt want them muscling in.

Connell looked at her again through the darkened room. ԓShe knows something Marty, and Mo knows that she does.

ԓThen you need to find out what that is.

ԓDamn right I do.

ԓAnd how do you propose to do that?

Connell grinned, ԓI have my ways, Marty, as you well know.

Three

The motel was a rundown pay by the hour affair and the guy at reception didnԒt bat an eye, when Connell half carried the girl from the car to the room. Connell reckoned the jerk had seen far worse and he certainly wasnt getting paid to moralise. Connell also knew as long as he paid up front and didnҒt trash the room they could do pretty much what they liked. All he had in mind was sleep.

Connell woke Lizzie when the all night pizza arrived and she did try to eat some. But for reasons he couldnt begin to understand, pepperoni at three in the morning, didnҒt hold the same allure for her as it did for him. He wasnt about to let good food go to waste.

ғYou gonna eat that? he asked as she pushed her share aside after a few bites.

Lizzie shook her head, glancing around at the shabby room, dismay evident in her expression. Okay, so it was worse than the one that heԒd found her in. That one had been relatively clean, but this one was safe and he knew where hed rather be.

ғIm sorry, IҒm tired, she sighed ԓIm going to get ready for bed.Ҕ
 
You gotta try and eat more than that,Ӕ he pressed, but could see he was wasting his time. She was beat. Any energy she might have possessed had drained right out of her. Too little sleep and too much stress, he recognised the look. Picking up her bag she disappeared into the bathroom and he returned his attention to the pizza. He washed it down with a couple of beers and listened to the sound of running water.
 
Lizzie wasnt the only one who was tired. Connell was pretty much whacked. He settled himself in the only armchair and waited his turn in the bathroom. His eyes closed, despite his best efforts to the contrary, and when the bathroom door opened, bathing the room in harsh yellow light, he was pulled awake with a start. Just in time to see her pad across the room in her pyjamas and slide beneath the covers on the king-size bed.
 
Pyjamas; tartan pyjamas, was she for real? 

HeҒd had some like that when he was five. He dragged himself up and took his turn in the bathroom before switching off the light and returning to his chair. He placed his gun carefully on the arm next to him and closed his eyes. Hed had worse all nighters; at least there was a chair.
  
ғWhy are we here? she asked, a small voice in the darkness, and he dragged his eyes open again.

ԓYou mean in a spiritual, meaning of life way?

ԓNo.
 
ԓI thought you were tired?

ԓI am, but Im worried that something will bite me while IҒm sleeping.

Connell smiled. ԓYou got money for a five star hotel?

ԓNo.

ԓNeither have I and this place was handy. Im too whacked to be driving around.Ҕ He settled down and shut his eyes again. YouӒll be fine. They spray the rooms every week.

ԓHow do you know, do you come here often? she asked and though he couldnԒt see her smile, he heard it in her voice.

Only in the line of duty.Ӕ When hed been with vice, heҒd been a regular visitor.

Will we be safe here?Ӕ she asked, and he heard her shuffle about beneath the covers.

Sure we will, go to sleep.Ӕ

The trouble with pulling all nighters was that come the next morning, you ended up looking and feeling like shit. Hed slept in his clothes and felt as bad as his wrinkled suit. She on the other hand looked surprisingly bright eyed and bushy tailed, which didnҒt seem fair and did nothing to improve his mood.
 
He needed breakfast, protein and carbs and plenty of it, and nothing was going to get in the way of that, including Mo Pater. He drove to the nearest diner and guided her to a window seat where hed a good view of the car lot and road. Connell didnҒt expect trouble, but he liked to be prepared just in case. Until he knew what was going on he had to be prepared for anything.

You must like your food,Ӕ Lizzie remarked as the waitress delivered an overflowing plateful of cholesterol to their table, placing it in front of Connell.
 
Think of it as fuel,Ӕ he said with a smile, and it wouldnӒt do you any harm to eat a bit more. He gestured at her toast. ԓThats not gonna keep you going through a busy morning.Ҕ

Are we going to have a busy morning?Ӕ she asked while she studied him discreetly from behind her toast. 
 
He shot her a glance, realised he was being given the once over and covered his amusement by taking a mouthful of bacon and eggs. Sure we are,Ӕ he answered when hed finished chewing. ғYoure gonna tell me why you came to New York, and IҒm gonna decide whether to believe you.

ԓI thought this was about the hit and run, about what I saw?
 
ԓIt is, He cocked his head, suppressed the smile, but the twinkle in his eyes betrayed his continuing amusement. ԓBut Im a thorough guy, I like to dot all the iҒs and cross all the ts and at the moment IҒm just not getting a clear picture.

ԓIve told you everything I know.Ҕ

No you havenӒt. He took another mouthful and gave her a shrug. ԓBut thats cool, IҒm a detective...Ill just do some detecting. But you know while IҒm wasting time trying to guess whats going on, our good friend Mr Pater might just be getting the jump on us.Ҕ

She nibbled half heartedly at the corner of her toast, raised her head and gave him a blank look. WhoӒs Mr Pater? 

This time he was sure that she wasnԒt lying. She didnt know Mo. Good for her, but not so good for him. If she didnҒt know who he was, why was she so scared of him?

Your albino driver, Mo Pater.Ӕ

So you know him?Ӕ she asked, absently brushing toast crumbs from where theyd scattered across her chest.

Connell dragged his eyes away. ғYou could say that, weve met on more than one occasion, usually with a loaded gun between us. We have unresolved ...issues...Ҕ

Then why donӒt you arrest him?

Connell took a slug of coffee and cocked his head. ԓIts not as simple as that.Ҕ

If you canӒt arrest him, how can you keep me safe? Her voice rose slightly in pitch, slightly breathless, betraying her alarm. ԓMaybe I should just go home. I dont want to get mixed up with criminals. IҒll withdraw my statement and you can believe what your other witnesses have told you, that it was an accident.
 
She made to rise from her seat and he reached out and stilled her with a hand on her arm. He had no idea who she was or what her involvement in all of this was...No way was she walking away.

She looked at his hand, firm against her bare skin and glanced back at him questioningly. Her confusion evident in the way she drew her bottom lip between her teeth and chewed distractedly. She dropped her eyes when he met her gaze, and he removed his hand with a shrug.

ԓYoure already mixed up,Ҕ he answered and you canӒt go home, Ive got your passport, remember. And you havenҒt made a statement yet, thats whatҒs going to keep us busy this morning. He paused for a slow smile ԓBut first things first... are you sure you havent got your nurses uniform with you?Ҕ

Lizzie arched one eyebrow. ItӒs not something I carry around with me.

ԓPity, cause were going visiting, and I may need you to check someoneҒs pulse.

Clifford Reay had a private room and lots of flowers, which Connell found weird and Lizzie found fascinating. She gently plucked at the exotic blooms sniffing their various scents. Connell dragged his eyes away as she delicately brushed a dusting of pollen from the tip of her nose. He had an urge to reach out and catch the bit sheԒd missed but he picked up Cliffords chart instead. The bed was empty. The severely incapacitated patient had miraculously risen from it, and nipped out for a sly cigarette. Connell passed the chart to Lizzie.

ғSo, what does Nurse Jones make of that, is he for real?

Lizzie glanced at the notations and stats and gave another shrug. ԓHis vitals are normal. They suspect a whiplash injury which is quite likely...if hed actually been driving.Ҕ She handed back the chart. But he doesnӒt need to be here. As I already told you, he wasnt the driver.Ҕ

Connell smiled at the challenge in her eyes. He reckoned there might be another side to sweet little Lizzie, a side she was currently keeping under wraps. If hed had a little more time and a few less distractions heҒd have enjoyed taking his time with the unwrapping. As it was, someone wasnt telling the truth. As yet he wasnҒt quite sure who.
 
Okay, I want you to go wait outside, no sense in letting him see you.Ӕ He hoped she had the sense to stay there.

Lizzie nodded and took a seat in the corridor. Picking up a magazine she settled herself behind it and waited for Connell to do his stuff.

Clifford, you really need to wise up here,Ӕ said Connell when the man eventually returned, and after Connell had sat and been entertained by Cliffords version of events. ғWe have several witnesses who place Mo Pater at the scene, in the car, behind the wheel and were looking at first degree murder. You need to consider whether what theyҒre paying you, is enough to take that kind of wrap.

Clifford squirmed, held his whiplashed neck, protected by a surgical collar, pathetically with one hand and denied everything just like heԒd been told to do. Detective Connell, would I lie to you? Like I said, I was driving, and that poor guy; well he just leapt out in front of me, like he had a death wish. No way could I avoid him.Ӕ

He was hit twice.Ӕ

Well, you know thatӒs the weird thing, certainly was a bouncy guy. One hit wasnt enough for him, he just threw himself head first under my wheels.Ҕ He leaned toward Connell, and Connell recognised amusement in his eyes. Have you ever heard someoneӒs skull go pop? I can tell you; thats not a sound IҒll forget in a hurry. Reckon Ive got that post traumatic stress.Ҕ

Post traumatic stress! Hed give him stress. ғI know you werent driving and I know MoҒs involved in this.

Clifford smiled. ԓSorry detective but youre wrong, ask your forensic guyҒs. My dabs were all over the wheel and the bruising on my neck proves I was in the drivers seat. Always wear my seat belt...safety first and all that.Ҕ

Connell narrowed his eyes. Clifford was hell bent on taking the wrap for this and it sounded like the forensics would back him up. He stood and shook his head. YouӒre a fool Clifford, youre playing with the big boys and theyҒll hang you out to dry.

Trouble was he kinda believed him, but if he was telling the truth then Mrs Jones wasnԒt. He was beginning to lose patience. He was on dodgy ground already by not declaring her as a witness. Hed lied to Musgrave and heҒd put Marty in a difficult position. He needed the truth and one way or another hed get it. Maybe it was time for some Connell charm. It usually worked.
 
He pulled a few stems from one of CliffordҒs ample floral displays as he left. Specifically choosing the blooms that shed found so alluring earlier. He avoided the pollen, shook off the excess water and handed them to Lizzie, as he placed his arm loosely around her shoulders and walked her down the corridor away from CliffordҒs room.

What are you doing?Ӕ she demanded, and he felt her stiffen beneath his arm and sensed her discomfort. He removed his arm and stepped away. Okay, so much for charm. Maybe he wasnt her type. He wondered why. Felt a little insulted. Also felt there was more to it, to her, than that. Another bell began to tinkle gently in his head and he silenced it with frustration.

ғTrying to blend in, he replied, gesturing to the other visitors milling around the corridor. An assorted group, none of whom looked like theyԒd slept in their clothes. If any of this lot, are here to see our man Clifford, IӒd rather they thought were a couple whoҒd been shacked up all night getting up to mischief, than a cop and a witness to murder. He tried another smile. If sheԒd been anyone else he would have cut through the nonsense and got to the truth by now. But there was something about her...

So you do believe me.Ӕ

Believe you about what?Ӕ

The hit and run.Ӕ

A guy is dead, I believe that.Ӕ He was holding judgement on everything else. 
She sidled back up to him glancing about. He could see that any challenge she might have entertained had been quickly subdued, her face a picture of apprehension. She was easily scared and that intrigued Connell. Secrets and fear, she seemed to balance precariously between the two and he wondered how long it would take for her to tip in the right direction.

Do you think one of those people might be looking for me?Ӕ she asked.

He shook his head. In all honesty he doubted it, but it didnt hurt to keep her on her toes. ғI doubt it. Mo cant know youҒre with me, not yet anyway. Although, he knew it wouldnԒt take long, Just as long as it took Clifford, to make a phone call. Mo wasnt stupid he knew there was only one real witness, and he knew what that witness looked like. He cocked his head, gave her a reassuring smile and replaced his arm. 

Time for plan-B. 

ғCome on Nurse Jones, one more stop then were out of here.Ҕ

Where are we going?Ӕ she asked, quickening her step as he propelled her along. The flowers clutched against her breast, pollen staining her clothes.

He lowered his voice, couldnt resist the macabre inflection. ғThe morgue, he answered with a grin.

He wasnԒt sure what hed expected her reaction to be, so far sheҒd pretty much surprised him on most things, but when she dug in her heels and refused to budge, he was forced to stop or cause a scene in the middle of the corridor.
 
Why?Ӕ she stammered.

He tightened his arm around her, wasnt going to let her go, no matter how uncomfortable he made her feel. He ignored her discomfort despite the corresponding niggle in his gut.

ғTo see if you can identify our man.

Her skin palled. ԓHe has no face, theres no point.Ҕ 

She was right, the guy had been well and truly mashed, but he hoped that maybe the shock of seeing him would help to encourage the truth out of her. It may jar your memory.Ӕ

I donӒt want to, she whispered, her eyes brimming with sudden tears. ԓYou cant make me...can you?Ҕ 

Of course he couldnt, but she didnҒt know that, and he was sorely tempted just for the hell of it. He reckoned one little push and those tears would flow, along with the truth. Come on honey, you canӒt be squeamish; youre a nurse just take one look.Ҕ

She shook her head. No, IӒm sorry, truly I am. I want to help you, but I dont want to look at him.Ҕ She was shaking and people were starting to notice them. What was the big deal the guy was dead. Connell gave an apologetic smile to an orderly who had stopped beside them, women it said and the man smiled back.

Okay, sweetheart, you win,Ӕ he replied through gritted teeth. He couldnt do it, couldnҒt make her cry, he was meant to be one of the good guys and Charlene had told him to be a gentleman. Some folks were freaked out by the sight of a dead body, he could get that, but she was a nurse and should be well used to them. He didnt understand her reaction, didnҒt understand what was going on.

He backed her gently against the wall next to the elevator, her hands flat against his chest keeping him from getting too close, and with one palm against the wall he bent his head to hers and spoke directly against her ear. WeӒre trying to blend in, remember. 

He was counting back from ten when his phone went off and checking the display he saw it was Marty. He stepped away from Lizzie, with a measure of confused relief. He didnԒt usually have to try this hard. Most women were more than happy to have him cosy on up to them.

Hi buddy, you got something for me?Ӕ

You alone?Ӕ asked Marty.

Nope,Ӕ

Then just listen, I got a little story for you.Ӕ

IӒm all ears. The elevator arrived, the doors pinged open, and he stayed Lizzie with a hand on her arm and let the lift go by.

ԓOkay, Mrs Elizabeth Jones, Beth to her friends, is a thirty year old teacher working at a school in Northern England. Currently on maternity leave and according to my sources the happy event is due in four weeks time. The person currently travelling on Mrs Jones passport is obviously not the aforementioned, unless sheҒs hiding an eight month bump under her T-shirt.

Connell glanced at Lizzie, knew that she wasnԒt. Hed had his hands round that little waist. He wondered where this was leading.

ғI got a look at the video footage from arrivals, it made for interesting viewing. You need to see it. Your girl charmed her way through customs, had them eating out of her hands by the look of it. She sure has a sweet smile. Stopped off at the diner and made one phone call. Airport cab picked her up. The driver, a Mr Delmar Bleekwood, dropped her off one block away from the accident. She told him she was meeting someone.

Connell narrowed his eyes; he didnԒt like to be made a fool of.

Mrs Elizabeth Jones, the mommy to be, is married to Mr Carl Jones an American citizen, and again according to sources they are estranged...you getting this Connell?Ӕ

Sure I am.Ӕ

So your little cutie is using the mommy to beӒs passport. Maybe she lifted it? Ill leave you to find out why.Ҕ

IӒll get right on it.

ԓThats not all.Ҕ

Go on.Ӕ

The passport, I put it through my super cool machine and guess what? ItӒs a phoney...and its one of Gilly TaskerҒs. Connell stared at the phone, Gilly Tasker was an associate of Mo Pater. ԓTommy, are you still there?

ԓYeah sure, just wasnt expecting that.Ҕ

No well, when things look like a coincidence, theyӒre usually not. One last thing, Connell.

ԓYeah?

ԓYou might want to start by tracking down Mr Jones. Apparently hes another one whoҒs been linked with our man Mo.

ԓYoure kidding me.Ҕ

Would I kid?Ӕ

Buddy I owe you one.Ӕ

Another one Tommy and your list of IOUӒs are growing. Listen you take care, youve got quite a tangle to unravel and IҒd reckon youre maybe only a day ahead of the Feds.Ҕ

Connell pocketed the phone and considered his position. If hed any sense he would hand her over to the feds and walk away, but this was becoming less about the bust and more about his need to discover the truth. He needed to hear her side of the story. He glanced at her as she leaned against the wall. She was watching him expectantly.

ғOkay, Lizzie, time we hit the road, I reckon our man Clifford is probably on the phone to his boss as we speak.

She pulled herself away from the wall and took a hesitant step toward him. ԓWhere are we going now?
 
ԓMy place, He smiled at her. ԓI need a change of clothes. 

HeԒd made up his mind. There was no way he was gonna let Mo Pater get away with murder again. 

He was playing this one to the end.