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  Between Two Thieves Private Investigator Crime Thriller series book 3

  Solomon Carter

  Great Leap

  One

  Eva Roberts picked her way along a dark alleyway while trying her level best to remain undetected by the woman in front. Twenty yards away, the woman began to speed up, her high heeled shoes scraping and tripping over the broken concrete in the fading light. If Eva didn’t know better, she would have sworn Mrs Dennison had been drinking. But the woman hadn’t touched a drop. Mrs Dennison never drank before one of her evening walks, though she always liked to take a drink afterwards. Eva maintained a careful distance, keeping the sound of her movement to no more than a gentle padding. Together, yet apart, the two women walked along the weed-strewn back alley which ran parallel with Chalkwell’s busy London Road not far beyond. Twilight had dimmed the busy streets and within the confined alley it was darker still. Eva studied the woman’s movements and felt her nervous excitement in the air. Long ago, Eva reckoned, horses and carts might have used the alley for deliveries to the businesses on the London Road. But these days the alley was an all but forgotten relic, abandoned to those who needed such a route hidden in the heart of town – people with something to hide. The alley’s paving had been warped by age and become dangerously jagged in places. Which was why Mrs Dennison kept stumbling, her too-high heels snagging as she went along. Eva thought the woman would be lucky to end her journey with those shoes intact. Hopefully they weren’t too expensive, though everything else about Mrs Dennison told Eva they would be.

  It was daring – stupid even – for a pretty woman like Dennison to be out walking in a place like this. But nothing else about the woman suggested a lack of confidence. She was in a hurry and Eva already knew why. Eagerness. Desire. The very reasons why Eva was following the woman in the first place. Mrs Dennison was the job. A recently gained bread-and-butter job which looked set come to an early end. Good. A small case coming to a convenient close would certainly help to ease other concerns, and there had been plenty of those lately. Such as Lauren Jaeger. But at least Lauren Jaeger didn’t have any further reason to come calling. The way Eva saw it, she had fulfilled her obligations to Lauren and had put in the final bill as closure. Eva had even sent the invoice by email. Yes, the job had ended badly – but at least it was over. The objective of getting Lauren’s life back had been achieved and a permanent break from Blane seemed in the bag. But looking back, Eva knew the goalposts had been moved throughout the entire case. Step by step, Lauren had cajoled her, pushed her, begged her to cross every single red line, even dragging her towards becoming a weapon against Jamie Blane. In the heat of the moment, Eva had almost given Lauren her bloody vengeance. Only a last-second glimpse of the truth had brought Eva to her senses, saving Blane from ending up with a kitchen knife stuck in his chest. Eva would have claimed self-defence, of course. But it wouldn’t have been an easy case. Manslaughter at best. Diminished responsibility and all that. But jail time would have been a dead cert. And deep down Eva knew Lauren’s case still hadn’t gone away. The invoice hadn’t been paid and the case was in limbo. She felt a grim, morbid certainty about it all, even now walking in the alleyway behind Mrs Dennison. Eva wondered whether Lauren had ever truly been a victim in the first place. Lauren’s story had seemed sound enough but Jamie Blane’s account had contradicted almost everything Lauren had ever told her, and Blane had proof. Stop thinking about it, she told herself. Concentrate. Eva felt a headache coming on. She tried to push all thoughts of Lauren aside and continued her pursuit, but it didn’t work. It never did.

  Mrs Dennison’s heel plunged into another crack between the paving slabs. The woman stumbled forward, swore, and then righted herself, her arms flailing at her sides, little clutch bag pinched in her hand. Eva stopped in the shadows, but a moment later they both pressed on.

  All of Lauren’s evidence seemed to have been faked: yes, there were still checks and double-checks to be done, but Eva knew by now that Blane had never made any of the purchases for cleaning equipment or rubble bags. He had never made any eBay purchases, nor had Blane picked up any Screwfix order for the disposing of bodies. The Screwfix store had never even seen the man, and Eva had made a concerted effort to ask around. The closest she’d got to a identifying a culprit was when one sales assistant said he had handed the order to a woman. That was it – no proof at all. And so Jamie Blane was heading out of the dock, drifting towards a not-guilty verdict in the court of Eva’s mind. Which meant Eva knew she been manipulated. Jamie Blane was still a slimeball of the worst kind, at best half-victim, half-perpetrator in a relationship of violence and lies. But, still keen for the truth, Eva had begun dealing with Blane in secret, picking through Lauren’s evidence piece by piece. But there was no peace in dealing with either of them… and all the while she heard Lauren’s voice reminding her of every dark thing she had ever done. Worse, Eva had the feeling Lauren was on the money. Eva was beginning to see she was a villain like any other. Guilty as charged.

  Eva took a breath and brought herself back to the moment. The dark evening, the broken-down alleyway. The pursuit of a deceitful wife. The woman was rushing away from her now, hurrying as if her life depended on it.

  Thirty yards ahead, the svelte little woman stepped down from a kerb to cross one of Westcliff’s terraced side streets. She walked on without looking back, stepping up the next kerb to begin the next section of alleyway. Eva paused at a haphazard section of broken slabs and mud and had to check her footing. She stepped over the series of deep cracks. When she looked up again, Mrs Dennison was gone. She had disappeared. It shouldn’t have been possible. Eva had seen the woman entering the next part of the alley… Eva slowed to a stop. Damn it, and damn Lauren Jaeger for all her distractions. She should have been paying attention instead of getting lost in Lauren’s mess. Eva narrowed her eyes and replayed the woman’s movements. Unless the woman was a magician, she had to be somewhere dead ahead. Eva kept her footsteps quiet as she emerged onto the terraced street. She crossed. Eva felt herself being watched. She looked right to see two silent, burly men leaning close together against the garden wall of a nearby terraced house. A chill feeling stabbed at her but she ignored it. This was Westcliff. Villains and wannabes were ten around every corner. It didn’t mean a thing. Eva looked around and realised she was standing behind the brown brick walls of Westcliff Library, not far from Chalkwell Park. She shot the burly shadows a look of a warning – then walked on deep into the next alley. As soon as she was out of sight, Eva stopped and looked along the fences on the left – desperate for any sign of her quarry. No more than three buildings along, Eva noticed a gate set into in a dark wooden fence. She walked towards the gate and stilled her breath. There she heard voices… two voices, raised for just a moment, one chuckling before they both became quiet. And one of the voices sounded reassuringly familiar. Yes, it was Benita Dennison... pretty little Benita who’d told her husband she had an appointment with someone who could help their struggling second-hand business. Benita, the businesswoman who said they needed to go out and find better stock to keep the customers coming. Benita believed she had an eye for decent stock. And when Eva peered over the gate, she saw Benita Dennison wasn’t wrong about having an eye for the goods. She found the little woman standing close beside a tall man with a glossy mane of dark hair. He looked Mediterranean. They stood in a dark corner of a concrete yard, beside some trolley cages beneath a set of fire escape steps. Benita stood at least a foot shorter than her man, and he looked a much younger model too. Maybe even in his teens. She watched as Benita Dennison traced her fingers over the back of the young man’s hand, looking up into his eyes.

  “I couldn’t w
ait to see you,” he said.

  Eva wondered if he was lying. But what did that matter? When Benita stretched up for the kiss, the young man leaned down to meet her. He kissed her with the hunger only the young could muster. In fact, she thought, the guy looked like he was going to eat her alive. Eva didn’t bother with the DLSR camera. After all, these shots weren’t for Hello magazine. Instead, she raised her phone above the fence and took a few snaps of the kiss. The couple were so busy they didn’t hear the phone’s little clicks. Eva got ready to walk away. But then she realised the happy couple weren’t going anywhere. Eva stepped back behind the gate and watched the young man as he peeled off his top. Little Benita chuckled and began to follow suit.

  “My, my... like a pair of alley cats,” muttered Eva. She didn’t need anything gratuitous but she guessed the client would probably want the full story. Soon, the couple dropped down to the concrete, totally naked, skin on skin, and Eva had a hatful of images for her trouble. Money shots every single one. High spirits and fresh air soon proved too much for the couple. With a few loud grunts the passion was over almost as soon as it began. Their kisses turned to small parting pecks, and Eva heard enough to stop her beating a retreat.

  “Here. This is for you. Like I promised.”

  Eva peered over the fence and watched Benita opening her handbag. The woman handed over a small fold of paper money, and the young man took it. He glanced at the cash and slid it into his jeans without a second look. “Thank you, honey…” Eva captured the handover in two shots, then finally slipped away.

  Benita Dennison didn’t need to pay for sex. She was too pretty for that.

  Which meant poor Benita had it bad. This was love. And even as the family business was tanking, poor Benita was wasting what was left on her hot stud. The good news for Mr Dennison was that the secret black hole in his business finances was coming to an end. But so was his marriage.

  Such was the life of a private eye. Eva left the lovers to it. She slipped her phone into her handbag and walked back the way she had come. On Fleetwood Avenue she saw the two shady characters had gone, but there was no point inviting trouble. Eva abandoned the alley in favour of a jaunt along London Road. Benita Dennison liked to dance on the wild side. But Eva Roberts never played with fire unless all other options had been exhausted.

  “I’d sit down if I were you, Mr Dennison,” said Eva.

  She stood in the big airy premises of Dennison’s Second Hand Emporium, one of three such enterprises in Westcliff’s London Road. Looking around, she realised the big draughty emporium was more than half empty. Times were bad indeed. David Dennison rubbed the back of his hairy neck with a big hand. He made a face.

  “I’m not gonna like this, am I?”

  “Best sit down,” said Eva.

  “Where’s your partner? The one in leather.”

  “I didn’t need him for this one. He’s working another case.”

  Dennison nodded. He didn’t care either way about Dan’s presence. The man was just postponing the inevitable. Dennison saw the look in Eva’s eyes. He sighed and sat down, parking his big backside right next to a garish wooden carving of Daffy Duck as Hugh Heffner. The duck’s handwritten price tag said thirty-five pounds. Eva would have paid two fifty for firewood.

  “Right,” said Eva. She leaned down across the table and handed Dennison her mobile phone, photographs already on screen. The first image was safe enough. Just two people holding hands in the early evening.

  “Swipe left and keep looking until you get to the end,” said Eva.”

  “Uh. Right,” said Dennison. Eva didn’t take a seat. She watched the man’s stubbly face as he flicked through the images. He lingered on a couple of them. His brow wrinkled at one. His eyes flashed wide at another. Towards the end, he turned the phone onto its side to make sure he was seeing the image right. When he looked up at Eva, there was a gloss of tears in his eyes. But he was a big man. He wiped the tears away and pretended they hadn’t happened.

  “So…where do I go from here?”

  “I’m very sorry, Mr Dennison,” Eva glanced at the phone. “But I think you need to look at the last two images in particular.”

  “I’ve seen it all. I don’t need to—”

  “Please. Just look.”

  Dennison made a sour face but did as he was asked. Eva watched him struggle to understand what he was seeing until he zoomed in and out using his chunky thumb and finger on the screen.

  “Wait… she’s giving him money?”

  Eva nodded. “Yes. That’s what I saw. I know times have been hard lately, so I thought that little detail was worth knowing. Fixing this could help your cashflow.”

  The man’s face darkened. His eyes flashed. “That bastard is draining my entire life. He’s taking my wife. My business. He’s killing me!”

  “I wouldn’t say that necessarily,” said Eva. “He’s probably just an opportunist. And if your wife has got it bad for this guy, she might have just offered him the cash.”

  “Whatever. The bastard’s still screwing another man’s wife – and on the concrete, like she’s a dirty junkyard dog! The scum. Dirty, no good, low down piece of—"

  “I’m sorry, Mr Dennison. But you know it always takes two to party. It took your wife ten minutes to walk there. She knew exactly where she was going, and she knew what was going to happen.”

  The man’s jaw firmed and his nostrils flared.

  “What would you do, if you were me?”

  “First of all, I wouldn’t want to end up in jail. Don’t let this ruin your life. Cut your losses, stop leaking money. End things, if you have to. Fix your business.”

  The man nodded. “And what would you do about these two? About what they’re doing to me?”

  “Like I said, I wouldn’t want to go to prison—” Eva was about to continue, but Dennison cut in. He pulled a wedge of curled notes from his pocket and put it on the table in front of him.

  “I’m not going to prison for this. Here. That’s what I owe you. Eight hundred. Now, please… a word of advice. What might it cost me to have something done on my behalf? Confidential. No links to me. Something happens to the guy. It just happens, case closed.”

  “Excuse me?” said Eva.

  “Come on. There was a drive-by in town the other week. Gangs stab people in the parks. This town is full of dangerous people.”

  “To be clear, I’m not sure what you’re meaning, Mr Dennison.”

  “What about your partner? He looks like a tough guy… maybe he’d like to earn some extra cash?”

  Eva’s face paled before hardening. She stood her ground, looking down at the man inside his giant junk shop. Eva felt he was looking at her through Lauren Jaeger’s eyes. She shook her head and took a breath then picked up the money from the table, put it in her handbag and clipped the bag shut. She picked up her phone.

  “You’ve seen the images. I’ve done my job. I’ll send you a receipt and if you want, I’ll email you those photographs.”

  “Don’t bother,” said Dennison. “But please just answer my question.”

  Eva’s brow dropped over her eyes.

  “My partner isn’t a thug… and neither of us kill people. Does that answer your question, Mr Dennison?”

  “Look, you people must know someone who can do this. People like you, in your world, you’re bound to know someone who—”

  “My world? Mr Dennison, the people in my world are people like you. People who insult and degrade and repulse me by asking me to do things I would never do in a million years.”

  “I don’t believe that for a second.!”

  “Mr Dennison, please don’t ever call me again. One more thing,” said Eva, turning back from the door before she left, “If I happen to read any newspaper reports about any sudden accidents, or sudden murders involving your wife, or that young man, you can be assured that I will go to the police. And then, Mr Dennison, you will go to prison.”

  “What? You’re on their side now?!”

/>   “Hired guns, Mr Dennison. You must know how they are. Now do yourself a favour and pipe down before you say another stupid word.”

  Eva gave the man a hard look. He met her gaze for a long moment before he finally nodded in acceptance, and then Eva opened the door and walked out onto the street. As Eva closed the shop door, someone spoke at her, “Who are you?”

  She jumped and looked left, seeing a familiar face. Benita Dennison, pretty, soft faced, with long dark hair and big brown eyes. A woman in her late thirties. For some reason, the woman had plenty of colour in her cheeks.

  “Who I am?” said Eva. “Why don’t you ask your husband? I’m sure he won’t mind telling you.” Eva turned away and started walking along past the charity shops towards Southend.

  “Hey, I was talking to you!” said the woman, staring at Eva’s back. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “I’m going for a walk,” said Eva. She turned back as she walked away. “You appreciate an evening walk, don’t you, Mrs Dennison?” Eva turned away and kept on walking. Behind her, Benita Dennison folded her arms. Her heart started to race a little faster.

  By the time the shouting started, Eva was too far away to hear it.

  Two

  He was coming. Joanne’s fingers sped over the keyboard, minimising the pages open on her computer screen with the kind of speed that could only come from practice. The screen she had been working on blinked out of sight. Joanne caught sight of her reflection on screen just as a strong manly hand fell to rest on her shoulder. She felt his fingers go to work on her shoulder muscles and watched them squeeze the muscle by her neck. It felt good, and at the same time, it was unwelcome. Joanne was tense. Had Toby seen what she was working on? She really hoped not. To ensure he didn’t see anything else, Joanne laid her hand over his and turned to look up into Toby Falk’s bright blue eyes.

  “You’re tense, Jo,” said Falk. “What’s the matter?” he asked, letting his fingers tenderise her flesh a little more. The girl blushed. He was a good looking guy, and he was in charge. Which made him all the more of a problem. Falk wasn’t cool, but he was sharp dresser, had a good physique, and was fairly charismatic. As a result Joanne had let the boundaries drop a little faster than she had been intending. She knew Eva wouldn’t have made the same mistake. Eva had been born wise, Joanne was sure of it. And she doubted Dan would have made a move on a new young assistant quite as fast as Toby Falk had. But then, Dan had Eva whereas Toby Falk was a single man.. If Alice Perry had once seen fit to go with him, then at least it proved he was a catch. Perry seemed only to go for the Alpha types. There was a modicum of cold comfort to be had in that. But Joanne still squirmed. She hoped she hadn’t proved too easy a conquest, but the burning in her cheeks said that she might.