Dark Service Read online

Chapter Twenty

  His perfectly timed repetitive morning routine complete for the day, Griffin left his flat and walked the short distance to the train station. He’d slept well and blamed his slightly lighter feeling on rest as he walked briskly to his usual spot on the platform. Elvis in his ears, he found himself looking around, searching the others who were waiting for the train, but Vee wasn’t one of them. Pity. If she was going to catch this one, she’d better be quick, but as the familiar clicking of the tracks sounded, signalling an approaching train, she was nowhere to be seen. The engine pulled up ahead; his usual carriage stopped directly in front of him and he waited for the doors to ping open. One last glance back up the platform before he boarded told him she wasn’t going to be on this train.

  His train.

  Sitting in one of his three usual seats – his choice depended on who else was on board – he resigned himself to the fact his ear buds would be his entertainment for the remainder of the journey in to work.

  That evening was a different matter.

  At 5.30 pm on the dot, Griffin left the office and headed to Victoria station, buds in his ears, Guns N’ Roses playing for his return journey.

  He felt her before he saw her. Glancing to his left, he could see that Vee was just about by his side, her petite face with its thick glasses smiling up at him. While she wasn’t particularly small, Griffin was nearly a foot taller at six foot four.

  “Hey,” was all he could muster, though he knew he wanted to say more. But what exactly?

  “Hey back. I wondered if I might see you on the way home.” Her smile turned out to be infectious. Well, just a little. He smiled down at her through barely open lips, although his smile was nowhere near as blazing as hers.

  “Good day at work?” It felt a safe subject, less awkward perhaps. There was always the weather.

  “Yes. You?”

  “It was okay. Nothing special. Deadline was yesterday so there’s always a bit of a breather the following one. Not much goes on.” Thinking, he asked, “What is it you do in IT? It’s a big subject.” They carried on walking towards the station up ahead.

  “I’m in cyber security, actually. I work for a private firm. They do a lot of computer forensics for businesses. You know, like when someone leaves a company and tries to take a copy of the database with them. Or trying to defraud the company through dodgy accounting – that sort of thing.”

  “That sounds interesting. A bit more so than sports reporter.” They had almost reached the platform while they talked; Griffin felt a little more relaxed with each step and her easy conversation. And her easy manner.

  “It can have its moments. It’s mainly dull digging, until you find a clue, that is. Of course, I’m not much higher up than a gopher at the moment, but I’m working on it.”

  The train was waiting at the platform and Griffin guided them both to ‘his’ carriage before sitting down. She sat next to him. It felt pleasant.

  “I enjoy it,” she continued, “though I’d like to get a bit more involved with cases than I am at the moment, but I’m learning. And learning to be patient. And of course, I can do some of my own research in my own time. You know, in the dark web as well as the surface web.”

  “You spend a bit of time in there, do you? The dark web?” Griffin’s interest was piqued a little more. The dark web wasn’t something people openly talked about much, though a lot of what a person could find there was perfectly legitimate.

  “I do at the moment. Have you ever been inside?”

  With her perfectly innocent face looking up at him, he hesitated before replying. Tell the truth or avoid it?

  “Just a little.” Each night. . . There – that wasn’t completely a lie.

  “Cool! So if you know about it and have been there, you’ll know what I’m talking about.”

  Oh, yes. I know, indeed.

  She went on. “What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever stumbled across while you’ve been surfing?”

  “I’ve not stumbled across anything weird, actually. It’s a bit hard to ‘stumble,’ as you put it, but I’ve checked into some of the drug chat rooms, for article research, you know – doping in sports, that sort of thing. Why? What have you stumbled on?”

  The train jolted forward with a clank as they finally set off in the direction of home, the carriage full of tired commuters headed back with them. Vee lowered her voice in the crowded carriage and semi-whispered in his ear. The warmth of her breath on his skin as she spoke felt good. Very good. He hoped he wasn’t blushing. He hadn’t been so close to a female in a long time.

  “Nothing really weird or anything like that. But I have figured out a couple of places I’d like to peek into. I’m a bit scared, though, of what I’ll find there, so I haven’t bothered.” Hurriedly she added, “Nothing freaky – just a bit different. I shall say no more.” She gave a sort of half-nod to the surrounding people in the carriage, some with flapping ears no doubt, clearly not wanting to risk being overheard. Having a fair idea of the types of things she might have found access into, he merely nodded to her in reply and said nothing.

  And of course, he didn’t mention what he had been looking into while he surfed, either. That had to remain private for a good while yet. He hardly knew her; even though he found himself liking her, he had no idea what her reaction would be. No. It was way too soon.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Taylor awoke with sore eyes and turned towards her alarm clock, which sat on the night-table not far from her pillow. After spending a sleepless night filled with questions and tears, she’d finally dozed off. The clock read a little after 8 am; the last time she’d checked, it had read 5 am. Three fretful hours was all she’d managed. And now she felt like shit. Her head pounded like a madman trying to kick his way out of his cell, and she knew without looking in a mirror how red-rimmed her eyes would be. She could almost feel the crimson glow of them as she lay there. There was no rush of yesterday’s nightmare returning, because it had never left her in the first place. No rush needed. She felt numb, lifeless even, and certainly not in the mood to celebrate her homecoming at her parents’ place, with all their neighbours and friends tagging along. No. Her most immediate problem was how was she going to get out of going today and avoid explaining what had happened. And tidy her hair up in a rush. What was left of it, that is. She reached for her phone and dialled her mother.

  “Hello, darling! You’re an early bird.” Always a happy singsong in her voice; Taylor wished she could match it.

  “Morning, Mum. I hope I didn’t wake you.”

  “Not at all. I’m just drinking tea sat up in bed, thinking about your father’s and my next trip. I fancy Florence but I don’t think your dad’s that keen. Says he’d like to go a bit further east and see some of the eastern European countryside for a change. God only knows what for.”

  “He’s always liked the less touristy places, Mum. It’s you that dislikes them.” Her voice sounded flat and mono in comparison to her mother’s bright pitch. Her mother picked up on it in an instant.

  “What’s wrong, darling? You sound unwell.”

  Thanks, Mum. That’s because I’ve been violated.

  “Well, that’s why I’m ringing, actually. I’ve been up all night and I look and feel terrible. I think I should stay put today. I don’t want to wreck your get-together.” There really was no lie there; it was God’s honest truth.

  “Oh, dear. That really is unfortunate. Everyone wants to see you. But if you’re unwell … then I guess you’d better stay where you are. It’s probably something from the plane journey home. Your father generally catches something when he travels.” That was the truth, too.

  “Sorry, Mum. Maybe I’ll be a bit better later on; we’ll see. And I love your roasts too, so I must be bad if I’m going to miss one.” Another truth.

  “Well, you stay where you are, dear, and look after yourself. I’ll call you later. Try and get back to sleep if you can. The rest will do you good. I’ll handle the rest of th
e family and we’ll see you when you’re feeling better. Okay?”

  “Okay. Thanks, Mum. Love you.” Taylor forced a smile as she hung up, imagining her mother sat propped up in bed with pillows, a mug of tea in one hand and the phone in the other. It’s what she did on mornings they were both at home together and not rushing off anywhere. Dad made her tea and delivered it every morning. He treated her like royalty.

  Taylor pulled the duvet up under her chin, lay perfectly still and closed her sore eyes for a moment. The conversation had been easier than she’d anticipated, but all she’d really done was stall the inevitable. Buying some time wouldn’t get rid of the problem, only delay it, but she hoped by the time she had to confront it, she’d be in a stronger state. At the moment, she doubted she had the strength to knock the skin off a rice pudding. With fond thoughts of her father dutifully following her mother around the sights and shops of Florence, sleep crept up on her and carried her on until lunchtime.

  For the rest of the day, or what was left of it, Taylor busied herself in her small flat. Being away for so long meant dust had gathered in unseen corners and was a welcome distraction as she vacuumed and scrubbed and generally re-arranged things. By the time 6 pm had come, the place looked like a magazine shoot. A knock on the door startled her. No one knew she was back yet and, remembering the vacuum cleaner’s noise, she figured it was probably a neighbour. Without thinking, she opened the door. The look on her mother’s face reminded her instantly of the events her spring clean had pushed to one side of her head for a while. Her mother’s mouth was wide open in an oval. A small toy train could have driven through the entrance.

  Exclaiming and covering her mouth at the same time, she said, “My goodness – your hair! What have you done to it?”

  Taylor felt herself go numb. She stared emptily at her mother’s horrified expression; vaguely, she felt tears forming of their own free will and trickling down her face. Her mother ventured forward and wrapped her arms around her daughter’s shoulders, as a strangled howl burst from her chest. Taylor flung her arms around her mother and pulled her tight, her chin resting on her shoulder as violent sobs wracked her body.

  Her mother’s shock gave way to concern for her daughter, and she stroked the top of Taylor’s head just as Taylor’s father appeared in the doorway carrying a wicker basket. Knowing immediately that something was wrong, he silently entered the room, closed the door behind him, and joined in with his arms around them both as best he could.

  Finally, Taylor’s sobs subsided. She pulled slowly out of her parents’ embrace and looked at each of them in turn. Leonard and Judy Palmer stared back at her, dumbfounded. They couldn’t even begin to imagine what had actually happened.

  Taylor swiped a hand across her eyes. “I’d better tell you both what has happened, then we can decide what to do about it. Though I suspect it might be too late to do anything.”

  Her parents took Taylor’s cue and sat down with her in the small sitting room area. When she’d gathered the energy, she told them both what had happened.

  As best she could remember.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  It’s a common reaction for the mothers of most species: protect their young from harm at all costs. Judy Palmer was like a tiger keeping her cub safe after an intruder had been in the vicinity. She was on edge now, alert, and pacing the room. Leonard had hardly said a word; his wife had done enough talking for the both of them.

  Taylor, on the other hand, had calmed right down after she had finished telling her story and almost fallen asleep with sheer exhaustion after too little sleep and too many tears. Through heavy lids, she glanced at her father for encouragement. While she loved her mother dearly, it was her father whom she took after the most in terms of her emotions and mannerisms. They had the same shade of green eyes, though his hair was fair rather than red. And she accentuated the colour at the salon to make it even richer. She absentmindedly reached back now to find a few strands to play with, and then realized there was nothing there. How could you miss your hair so much? Her father brought her back to the present by finally speaking.

  “If Taylor doesn’t want to report it, then I think we have to honour her wishes, Jude. She’s not a child anymore, and if she feels unsure about the threat, as I would, I don’t blame her. We don’t know quite what she may have been mixed up in.” His calming overtones seemed to make the room sag a little and relax from the recent tension.

  “And I don’t agree at all,” his wife shouted from where she was stood looking down at the street below. The sky was autumn grey, and she watched as people below scurried on their way before the threatening rain started in earnest. She turned back into the room.

  “Goodness only knows what could have happened in that room – drugged, for heaven’s sake! That’s serious cause for concern, Leonard.”

  “I agree, Jude, but apart from her hair, nothing else has been stolen. She hasn’t been harmed, thankfully. Maybe we should let it rest and help her get over it. Reporting it will only make her relive it and drag the whole thing out for heaven knows how long. Maybe it’s best to start the healing process now rather than in a week or two.”

  Taylor listened as her parents bantered back and forth like a badminton match. The shuttlecock was now in her mother’s court. She picked it up and whacked it hard across the net.

  “Trust you to be the one for an easy route, Leonard Palmer. No balls –that’s you.”

  “There’s no need for swiping, Mum. Calm down. We can only cope with one person ready to chop heads off, and that’s you. Dad is just balancing the situation with calmness like he does when you get so excited.”

  “I’m not excited, I’m livid!” Judy Palmer screamed at them both and they jumped slightly.

  “Mum. Please, try and calm down a bit, will you? It’s not getting us anywhere. I’ve no idea what they meant by ‘it wouldn’t be wise,’ but I sure as hell don’t want to find out, either. Let it go, would you?”

  Taylor’s energy was severely depleted and her nerves were vibrating like banjo strings. Her mother’s anger was making matters worse, not better. Taylor moved over to her father and sat on the floor between his legs for comfort. Instinctively he stroked the top of her head, something he’d done all her life when she’d been upset and needed calming. It didn’t bother her that, even at 25 years old, she still found it a comfort. Judy relented.

  “And what’s that about the debt being repaid? What’s all that about?”

  “I’ve really no clue, Mum, I’ve not thought of much else since I got home last night. Nothing makes any sense. You’re about as wise to the answers as I am. But I’m not reporting it, Mum. Really, I’m not. And that’s the end of it.”

  “Well, if you’ve made up your mind, I’ll support your decision. I might not agree with it, but there you go.” She sounded almost petulant but at least she’d stopped yelling. “I could do with a drink. Leonard, open that bottle we brought in the basket, would you, dear?” Turning to Taylor, she added, “We brought you a plated roast dinner from earlier, in case you felt like it later. Now I understand why you didn’t want to come round.” Her deep sigh could be heard in each corner of the room, the sound of frustration tinged with disappointment.

  “I’ll put the plate in the oven to warm through. Then it’ll be ready for when you want it,” her dad said as he walked to the kitchen for glasses. A moment later, he was pouring three goblets of red, one for each of them.

  “Look, I appreciate your concern, really I do, and the roast dinner. But I’m a bit scared of any repercussions and I want to move on and put it behind me. You can understand that, can’t you, Mum?” The room stayed silent for a few seconds; not an awkward silence, but the silence of relenting.

  “Of course, my darling, of course. But let me do something for you.” Finally, she was speaking calmly to her daughter. Normality was resuming.

  “What, Mum?”

  “Let me see if Jeremy could make a house call and wave his magic wand on the hair
you have left. You’d feel better, I’m sure, if you didn’t have the constant reminder each time you see your reflection. I’m sure he’d do me a favour and pay a visit. I’ve been going to his salon for long enough.” Taylor knew what her mum was saying was right. She would feel better if her hair was styled nicely rather than the jagged look she currently sported. And if it kept the peace and calmed her mum down, then she could oblige her that.

  “I’ll call him now and see when he can do it. The sooner the better, I think.”

  At least now that a semi-unanimous decision had been made not to report the incident, Taylor could get on with the business of forgetting. And having her hair sorted.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “I can’t believe how soon the date has come around, hun. It doesn’t feel like five minutes since you told me.” Jeremy was trimming Amanda’s already short hair as he chatted.

  “I know. Time passes so quickly these days. I’ve no idea where it goes, but I certainly seem to miss it when it passes through. But yes, six whole weeks and we will be bride and bride.” The smile on Amanda’s face said it all. When Ruth had proposed some months ago, they hadn’t seen any reason to wait like many engaged couples did. What was the point? And even now, it was only because the venue they wanted was fully booked that they’d decided to wait. If it had been Amanda’s decision only, they’d be doing it in the back garden and having takeaway afterwards, but it wasn’t just her decision. And if Ruth wanted a bigger affair, then she’d give it to her. Amanda was just pleased to be making their relationship official in the company of their family and friends.

  “I’m so pleased for you, hun. I wish I was the one settling down, to tell you the truth. But alas, still too much of a playboy, I think.” He gave Amanda a flirtatious wink. “While I’m still young, that is.”

  With mock annoyance, she retorted, “Cheeky sod! I’m not old. But I know what you mean.”