Page 126 of We Chase Shadows

Trouble has noticed that Steve is working and has decided that it will not stand. He jumps up on to Steve’s desk, pads across the photos for a while and then curls himself up on top of them.

‘That’s helpful, is it?’ asks Steve. ‘You’re helping me catch a murderer?’

Trouble shuts his eyes, just letting Steve know that he is settling in for a while, and that, despite the abundant cat cushions, cat beds and even, a post-pub purchase this one, a luxury cat tree that are there for his exclusive use, a pile of scratchy papers on a hard wooden desk is exactly the level of comfort he was looking for.

Steve leans back and laces his hands behind his head. What has he missed? Not that it much matters now. Ernesto is talking to Brooks, and Interpol are on their way over to see him. All cases closed. Rosie, Amy and Steve had been paid, before Vern’s death, and fairly handsomely, so job done. But Steve senses it is not done. He looks down at the photos again, but doesn’t like to disturb Trouble when he knows exactly what he will see. He has Carlos’s version of the Palm Springs CCTV in an email so clicks that open instead. It’s grainier than Ernesto’s version, but it’s the same photo. Time on the wall still the same, the same familiar faces in the queue in front of and behind Connor Brooks.

But there is a difference between the photos. Steve checks and rechecks. This can’t possibly be true. Steve doesn’t want it to be true.

Because if it is …

Steve jumps to his feet and pulls out his phone.

‘Amy, where are you? Oh, he did, oh I’m so happy, no, don’t put him on … no, I don’t need to t– I’m coming to pick you up. Have you got a gun? Uh huh, uh huh. I don’t suppose you have two guns? You have Lee’s? Okay, hold tight, I’ll tell you when I get there. Love to Adam.’

Steve rushes to the door, then turns back and places a kiss on Trouble’s head.

‘Good lad,’ says Steve. ‘You’ve just solved a murder.’

66

Felicity is pointing her gun straight at Rosie.

‘Felicity, this is insane,’ says Rosie. ‘And I know insane.’

‘I know,’ says Felicity. ‘I do know. But you know what that man did. I’m going in.’

‘I can’t let you do that,’ says Rosie, moving to block the conference-room door. ‘You’ll have to get through me.’

‘So be it,’ says Felicity, advancing, gun still raised.

Rosie shows Felicity her palm, like a ‘stop’ sign. Rosie can just about believe that Felicity might shoot Connor Brooks, but she knows that Felicity won’t shoot her. This will end in moments. If she shouts, then Ernesto will surely hear, and if Ernesto comes out to Felicity brandishing a gun, then that will be very bad news for Felicity. Whatever this moment of madness might be, Rosie would rather not lose an office manager, especially such a cheap one.

‘Rosie,’ says Felicity. ‘I’m not going to shoot you, we both know that.’

‘Good,’ says Rosie. ‘That’s good. Let Ernesto deal with Brooks. That’s the best way.’

‘You really think that?’ asks Felicity. ‘With everything you know about the world? You really think Connor Brooks will find the right sort of justice?’

‘It doesn’t matter what I think,’ says Rosie. ‘It matters that I’m not going to let you in, and you’re not going to shoot me. So put the gun away.’

Felicity lowers the gun, and Rosie nods. This is actually all rather exciting. Facing a gun when you know it’s not going to be fired is something of a thrill. And you must never underestimate a thrill. She will probably have to tell Steve and Amy, won’t she? That the office manager pulled a gun on her, actually in the office. They don’t have a head of HR at We Solve Murders, but Rosie feels like if they did, then this would be something she should report. Amy won’t mind one bit, of course, she’d probably approve of the whole thing. But Steve can be a bit more conservative. Just so long as Ernesto doesn’t find out, that’s the main –

‘I’m not going to shoot you, Rosie,’ says Felicity. ‘But I am going to fight you. I’m sorry.’

‘You’re going to –’

Felicity rushes at Rosie, head down, knocks her off her feet and lands in a heap on top of her. Okay, even Amy might have a view on this. Rosie, winded, feels Felicity trying to scramble to her feet, and scythes her leg into the back of Felicity’s knee, bringing her crashing to the floor again. Rosie climbs on top of her office manager now and tries to pin down her shoulders.

‘Felicity, no more –’

Felicity brings her head forward straight on to the bridge of Rosie’s nose, and Rosie falls backwards. Rosie assumes that she should be in a great deal of pain, but, thanks to a lifetime of narcotic abuse, she long ago lost any feeling in her nose. Also it has been broken more than once by very expensive plastic surgeons, so what’s the worst that can happen here?

Felicity is now on her feet and reaching for her keys in her bag, gun still in hand. Rosie dives for her ankles and drags her to the floor again. Felicity drops her bag, and both women crawl across the floor to reach it. Rosie grabs the bag and pulls it towards her, but Felicity takes hold of the strap and pulls back. A tug-of-war for the keys inside the bag begins.

‘Stop this,’ hisses Rosie, and for a second the struggle pauses. ‘One of us will break a hip.’

‘Mine are both titanium,’ says Felicity.