Miss No One Mark Ayre (children's books read aloud TXT) 📖

"We need help," said Abbie. "Can't do it alone."

"Not what I meant."

Abbie looked at Ana then away. If the younger woman wanted to go on, she could, otherwise, whatever.

Ana went on.

"I mean, the police are all over this. Legions of people will be doing everything they can to bring Isabella home safely. What makes you think you can do better?"

"Because it's what I do," said Abbie. "If I have to get myself thrown in jail or even killed to save that child, that's what I'll do, because I believe I can help. I know I have something to offer when it comes to rescuing Isabella. So I have to try, but you don't have to stick around."

Ana looked as though she might have more to say on the subject, another rejection of the cause.

Instead, she said, "Yeah, I do."

Thirty seconds later, they pushed through a gate and took a straight path towards the block's front doors. These were locked, openable only by electronic key card. In other words, this was not a lock Abbie could pick.

Beside the door were two columns of buttons, each one labelled with a flat number. No names.

Earlier, while Abbie had been at the school, dodging bullets, being framed, saving Gary's life, Ana and Alice, her mother, had been busy. Before turning her back on crime in the lead up to her sixtieth birthday, Alice had spent most of her professional career as a gunrunner. Her life of crime had led to the accrual of many useful contacts. A lot of these people, bad people, had been cut away when Alice went legit. Many remained. One such contact had found several key addresses for Alice, who had passed them on to Ana, who had shared them with Abbie. One of these addresses had been Ndidi's. Another was flat thirteen of the block outside which the duo now stood.

"You know what to do?" Abbie asked.

Ana frowned. "I'm not a simpleton."

"That'll be a yes, will it?"

Sighing, Ana leaned forward and jabbed the button for flat thirteen. There was an electronic buzz that seemed to assault the silence, followed by quiet.

Ten seconds passed. Ana glanced to Abbie, asking the silent question.

Should I go again?

Abbie was preparing to nod her ascent when the silence was broken a second time. Rather than the electronic buzz, it was the crackle of an intercom, followed by a slightly distorted voice.

"Sorry, hello? Is someone still there?"

"Hi," said Ana. "Is that Christine Lakes?"

A pause. Long enough to suggest the homeowner was trying to decide whether to answer.

Then: "That's me. Who may I ask is speaking?"

Very polite, formal. A classic case of phone voice and speech. Abbie smiled as Ana continued.

"My name's Ariana Rayner. I'm a lawyer. We met earlier this morning at the police station, where you interviewed my client, Abagail King. Can I come up?"

A longer pause this time. Understandable.

Then: "Why?"

Ana looked at Abbie, who remained silent at Ana's side. They had been through numerous possible variations of this conversation in the car and planned responses for each. No more coaching was required.

"I take it you understand the police are currently seeking my client concerning a shooting that took place at a nearby, closed-down school?"

"You mean how they want to arrest her for the attempted murder, soon to be actual murder, of a police officer?" said Christine.

"You could put it like that," Ana said, as though Christine's version wasn't the much more succinct and accurate description of events. "Either way, regarding this shooting, there are some things I’d like to discuss with you. If you could let me in—"

"I don't think that would be wise," cut in Christine. "If you have anything to say, you can go to the station and discuss it with the duty officer there. A detective or detectives will be called in to speak with you. My advice would be to bring your client. Abbie is in a lot of trouble right now, and evading police capture will only make things worse. Now, if you'll excuse me, it's my night off."

Ana looked at Abbie, and Abbie nodded. Christine's response wasn't surprising. Ana and Abbie had predicated the rebuttal almost word for word, and Ana was prepared.

"Three men and one woman, all armed, attacked you and Abbie at Davesh's dealership last night. Three of these assailants are no longer a problem, but one remains at large."

After Ana finished speaking, there was a long pause. The longest yet, as Christine considered.

"I don't think I should speak about that," said Christine. Abbie smiled. Based on her meeting with Kilman, Abbie had suspected that Christine bottled her confession. After leaving Abbie, she had gone home rather than to the station. Her response seemed to confirm this. She wouldn’t incriminate herself.

"The man who fled the dealership," Ana continued, "went on to shoot Detective Chief Inspector Kilman and witness Gary, the former of whom now fights for his life in hospital. Before this shooting, Kilman and my client shared information. They realised they had each been lured to the school. Gary lured Abbie while an unnamed uniformed police officer fed misinformation to DCI Kilman to get him to the same location. Alone. We don't know who this uniformed officer is, and we don't know who else at the station might be working for the wrong side. Given your position," pause to let this sink in, "my client felt you were possibly the only person we could trust."

Silence. They could neither see nor hear Christine, but Abbie got the sense that if Ana's words were the line, and the young detective was the fish, she was on the hook. More than mulling over Ana's words, Christine actively fought them as they dragged her towards the surface.

As part of this fight, Christine said, "I don’t know what your client might mean about my position, but I would suggest that if she wishes to exonerate herself for the shootings of Detective Kilman and Gary, she should make an official statement, on the record, at the police station,