Shiny Rocks

Copyright Gary Weston 2012

Smashwords Edition

⟩Shiny Rocks

⟩

Chapter 1

'So. You two. How's it going?''Good, Sir,' said Ducket.'Now then, young man,' said The Chief. 'We are off duty, and I'm here visiting my niece. Call me

Bernard.''Yes, Sir. Err, Bernard.''Uncle Bernie. You'll give Ferret a complex.'Poppy Mitchell set the tray of tea and biscuits down on the coffee table. She was still flustered

from dressing in a hurry when Uncle Bernie had paid a surprise visit. They were enjoying a Sunday morning lie in when the doorbell had chimed. She nodded at Ducket to tell him the zip of his jeans was undone.

'Ferret. Don't you mind being called that?'Ducket covered his open fly by leaning forwards, his forearms on his lap.'The problem with nicknames is once they catch on, it's impossible to stop. I'm cool with it.''Well, call me old fashioned, but I'll call you Fred. Only off duty, of course.''Of course, Sir...Bernard.''Uncle Bernie. You know I love you to bits, but why are you here?'The Chief sipped his tea. 'Ah! Got me. Not entirely a social call. I've received something of

disturbing communication recently.''Uncle Bernie...''Poppy. This will probably be as upsetting for you as it was for me. In fact, I know it will be. It

certainly was for me. I think...because I'm not completely sure...I had a message from your mother.'

Poppy took a sharp intake of breath. 'No!''I said I wasn't sure, Poppy.'Ducket felt the change in atmosphere as surely as if a polar wind had blasted through the room.'Sir. Bernard. Would it be best if I left the room so you and Poppy can talk?''No, Fred. As much as anything, it is your help that I seek.''I really don't unders...'Poppy said, 'Ferret. My mother died fifteen years ago.''I know. You told me.''Then how do you explain this?' said the Chief. 'Arrived Friday. That is my sisters handwriting,

without a doubt.'Poppy reached for the letter, but recoiled, unable to touch it. 'She's dead.''That was what we all thought. But we never saw the body.' The Chief's eyes glazed over. 'How

do you think I felt when I opened this letter? I was stunned. All the old hurt and pain opened up. My sister, thought dead all these years. And now, after all this time, this.'

'She's dead.''Poppy. If there's the slightest chance...'Poppy got up, still not taking the letter. 'No. She's dead. Stop this. It's horrible.' She ran to the

bedroom, slamming the door behind her.There was an uncomfortable silence when Ducket, still covering his open zip, watched the

Chief wipe away his tears.'I should go to her,' Ducket said.

'Yes. She needs you. But let me say something first. God. I've been a wreck trying to decide what to do about this. On one hand, this has opened up a lot of old pain. But on the other, if my sister is still....' He stared at Ducket. 'I need your help, Fred. I need your talent, but most of all, I need your discretion.'

'You have all three, Bernard.''Thank you. Now go to her.'

Chapter 2

'Ducket not in today?' asked Detective Sergeant Vincent Crowe.'He's in his office,' said Detective Senior Sergeant Stanley Morris. 'I saw him first thing, then he

said he had some work to be getting on with.''Like what?''I've no idea. When I asked, he said he'd rather not say what it was.''That's not like Ducket.'Morris said, 'The look on his face told me to back off and let him be. He'll tell us in his own

good time. Now. How's that security guard?''He'll live. He's in no condition to give a statement yet. The doctor told me he'll be kept in a

drug induced coma for a few days. That's a serious head wound. He may never be able to tell us what happened.'

'There'll be repercussions over this. International ones. The Empress Jewels are priceless.''The Japanese government have been notified?' Crowe asked.'That pleasure belongs to the museum, I'm glad to say. I wouldn't want to be the one making

that call.'Detective Inspector Dale Andersen entered. 'Vince. Anything from the guard?''He's in a drug induced coma for a few days. I just got back from the hospital.''Damn. I was hoping...oh, well. As soon as the Scene Of Crime team have done their thing,

we'll all go back to the museum. Where's Ducket?''In his office,' said Morris. 'He's busy on something.''Is he? On this case?''No. I'm not sure what, exactly.''I'll have a word. We need all hands to the pump on this one. We'll be needing his special

talents.' With that said, Andersen headed off to find Ducket. He was about to knock on the door, when he noticed the do not disturb sign. 'What the hell...?'

He opened the door, to find Ducket writing on his chipped and battered whiteboard. He hastily wiped everything off so the Inspector couldn't see it.

'Ducket.''Sir?''What are you up to?''Just busy on a case, Sir?''What case? It isn't the Empress Jewels. I know that much.''I can't talk about it, Sir. Sorry.'Andersen's face started to redden. He had enough to contend with, without insubordinate

constables.'I demand to know what you are up to.''I can't...''Ducket!''Sir. Would you please have a word with the Chief?''The Chief? What's he got to do with it? Okay. I'll talk to him. But this Jewel robbery is the

number one priority as far as I'm concerned.'Andersen stormed the stairs to the Chiefs office. Two civilian staff worked full-time for the

Chief. Personal Assistant Monica Nolan, and secretary Amy Jones.'Inspector Andersen. Good morning.''Monica. Good morning. Is the Chief busy at the moment?'

'He's not coming in today. He's got some family matters to attend to.''Oh. Right. Does he know about the robbery?'Nolan said, 'I told him when he called earlier. He said he knew you would take charge of the

case.''Was that it?''Yes. He said he didn't want to be disturbed unless it was an emergency.'Andersen thought about phoning him anyway, but knew the Chief too well to do that. He

turned to leave. 'I don't suppose you have any idea what Detective Ducket is up to?''Ferret? No idea.'It seemed the whole division knew Ducket as The Ferret. Frustrated, Andersen left the office.

Chapter 3

'Poppy. We need to talk.'Poppy had been reluctant to even let her Uncle Bernie step foot inside her tiny apartment. He

made it clear he wasn't going anywhere without seeing her. Finally, she gave up and let him in.'Poppy. I know how you must feel, but it isn't going away.' Without being asked, he sat down.'I'm sorry. This can't be easy for you, either. Would you like a drink? Tea, coffee?''Tea will be fine. Are you keeping busy these days?'From the minuscule kitchen, Poppy said, 'Not too bad. I'm just working on a new web page for

new small business. It won't pay much, but working from home, my overheads are minimal. Not a working day for you today?'

'It should be, especially with that robbery. You heard about that?''On the radio. Worth millions, they said.''Several millions. Ridiculous, really. All that fuss over a pile of shiny rocks. Still. Very

embarrassing for our government if the jewels aren't recovered. Inspector Andersen will be dealing with it. I was more determined to see you.'

Poppy handed him a mug of tea and sat opposite him. 'Do you have the letter?''I have a copy. Your boyfriend has the original. That and the envelope. Here.'She took the piece of paper. She paused for a moment before opening it. 'Does Ferret know

what happened all those years ago?''I told him everything. I had no choice. If he has any chance of getting to the bottom of this, he

needs to know all I can tell him.'Poppy unfolded the letter. 'Is this it?''Yes.''Bernard. I need your help. I'll contact you Saturday night. X, S.''It makes no sense. I know that,' said Bernard.'Are you sure it's from her?''Unless it's a clever forgery, yes. See how she does the letter E? More like an A. I always teased

her about that. I found a few old letters of hers from before...It's her writing.''But she never called you Saturday night?''I never left the phone for a minute. She never called.''Was it postmarked this country?''Yes. I don't know if she's been in the country all these years or not. The handwriting's bad, even

for her. It looks like she wrote it in a frantic hurry.'Poppy said, 'I'll never forgive her. What she put me and Dad through. It killed him, her doing

that.''You don't know that.''I watched him drink himself to death. He never drank like that, not before. She killed him

through a broken heart. I was seven. I lost my mother, and watched my father die slowly, day by day.'

Bernard sighed. 'I know. You're right. But you have to understand. Sandra's my sister, so I have to find out. When we find her, you can decide what to do then.' He got up to leave. 'I'm calling into work. Just for a couple of hours. I want to see Andersen and also find out if Fred has found

anything yet. Shall I call you tonight?''I'll be seeing Ferret. He'll tell me if there is anything to tell.'Bernard hugged her. 'You were more like my daughter, than my niece. It's how Joyce thought

of you when you were living with us. God, I wish she was here to support you now.''Not just me. You.'He nodded. 'She was always my rock. When the cancer took her...' He kissed Poppy on her

cheek. 'Even after five years, it doesn't get any easier.''Can I keep this letter?''Yes, of course. Like I said, though. It's only a copy.' He thought he detected a slight softening

of her attitude. 'Call me any time.''I will.'

Chapter 4

The Chief went to the headquarters in his civvies. The first port of call was to see his P A, Monica Nolan.

'Monica. I'm not stopping. Anything important?''Only the robbery, Sir. Inspector Andersen is looking after that.''Good.''Will you be in tomorrow, Sir?''More than likely. If something prevents me, I'll let you know. Bye.'He found Ferret's office locked. He knocked anyway, but got no reply. In the cafeteria, he

found The Ferret with Morris, Crowe and Andersen.'Sir. Everything okay?' asked Andersen.'Just some domestic issues I need to focus on. What's happening on the robbery?''All airports and ports have been notified not that we have any descriptions of the four men. We

have interviewed all that were present at the time, but I want a more in depth interview from the museum manager and their head of security. They've agreed to meet us there. Neither of them will have gone home, I'm sure. Still waiting for the S. O. C. team to finish. I had a call from Andy Carter that they shouldn't be much longer.'

'A messy business,' said the Chief. 'I offered to send in our experts to check that the security system was adequate before the jewels arrived. I should have insisted we went in. Any improvement on the guard?'

'No,' said Crowe. 'I called the hospital half an hour ago. No change. He's in a drug induced coma and they are only giving him a twenty percent chance of pulling through.'

'Poor chap.'Morris asked, 'Is it okay for Detective Ducket to join us, Sir?''I'd rather he didn't if you don't mind, Stanley. He's doing a little job for me. As soon as he's

finished, he's all yours.''Anything we can help with, Sir?' asked Crowe, fishing.'No, thanks. You all focus on the robbery. I will be accepting calls from you, should you need

anything. Detective Ducket. I see you have nearly finished your lunch.''Yes, Sir,' said Ducket, taking the hint. 'I'm on my way back to my office.'The Chief waited for him to leave. 'I'll be off then.'Andersen's phone chimed out. 'Andersen. Right. Thanks, Andy.' He stood up. 'S. O. C have

finished. Time to get busy.''Good luck.'As soon as they had gone, the Chief returned to Ducket's office who was already at the

computer.'I didn't want to ask in front of the others. Any progress?''Not much, Sir. Are you sure I have all the known facts of the case?There was a hesitation, but finally the Chief said, 'As I remember it. She took her little sailing

boat out to sea, and was never seen again. We found the note pinned to the mast. You have that safe?'

'Here, Sir. I'd like a handwriting expert to compare the two notes.''Okay. I've been thinking that, myself. We have one whom we call on from time to time. Tell

him nothing about my relationship with the writer.''Okay. How is Poppy?''A mess, understandably. Be gentle with her tonight. This has shook her badly.''Understood, Sir.''I haven't been entirely honest with you, Ducket. There is something else. I have a feeling it may

be pertinent to the situation. It's something I know, but not Poppy.''And that is?''Sandra worked for the the National Security Service. She was a spy.'

Chapter 5

'This is all too tidy,' said Morris.'The security system was good,' said Andersen.'Good but not great,' said Crowe. 'Why the hell didn't the boss of this place take up the Chief's

offer of an expert security check?''A question no doubt we'll be asking,' said Andersen. 'Irrelevant if the bloody thing was turned off,' said Morris, stating the obvious.'Andy,' said Andersen. 'You all done here?''All done and dusted, three times,' said Andy Carter, the little barrel in charge of the S, O. C.

team.'So, we can't pollute the scene then?' said Andersen.'Not any more than you stumbling cart horses usually do,' said a grinning Carter. His love hate

relationship with detectives was legendary throughout the area. 'Feel free to make a mess.''Your generosity knows no bounds, Carter,' said Andersen.'I try to please. I'll have a draft report on your desk in the morning. Who knows? You lot might

even catch up with my team, one day.''Only if we are running backwards,' said Andersen, used to Carter's remarks.'We'll get everything to the forensics lab right away, not that there's much. Top professionals, in

my humble opinion. No cartridge, unfortunately. They must have picked it up. The only way we'll find out the calibre of the gun is when they remove the bullet from the guards head.'

Crowe said, 'That's if they can remove it. The doctor said it was fifty fifty if they took it out or left it in, depending on which was the safest option.'

'Right. We're out of here,' said Carter. 'Good luck.''Lets go talk to the manager,' said Morris.They found Duncan Richards, the manager of the museum, in his office. He was taking pills for

his headache. With him was a uniformed man in a peaked cap. On Peter Stanton's dark blue jacket, the words Museum Security was embroidered in gold. Neither men looked happy.

Richards said, 'I've just had the Japanese ambassador on the phone. Again. Not a happy man.''I can imagine. We need another talk with you two,' said Andersen. 'I've had the verbal report

off our S. O. C. team leader and …'Richard's phone went off again. He stared at it as if it was a fresh dog turd dumped on his desk.

Reluctantly, he picked it up. 'Yes, Sir. I realise...yes. The detectives are here now, Sir....right. Yes. I...'

The caller had said all he was going to say and Richards hung up. 'Sorry. You were saying?''We need to have another...'The phone rang again. Andersen signalled to the security guard to follow them out of the room.'Perhaps Mr Richards will be less busy soon,' said Andersen. 'In the meantime, we'll talk to you.' 'There's a canteen down here. Follow me.' The canteen was small but functional with boiling

water from a small boiler. They took it in turns to get a drink, then they all sat around the tables.'Any news on your colleague?' Morris asked.'No change. He's lucky to be alive from being shot in the head.''There were seven of you on duty that night?'

'Yes. I told you everything I know.''We know that. But going it over several times more often than not brings up more details.''Sorry. I'm not as sharp as I should be. I asked for more men, just until the exhibition was over.

Naturally, Richards refused.''Naturally?' said Crowe.'Richards has cut back to the bone on everything. Sure, it makes the figures look good, but we

can see the result.''Our advice would have been free,' said Andersen. 'Our Chief specifically offered our help to

check out the security system. He could have at least done that.''What can I say? I shouldn't say this, but I never got on with the man. He's been here two years,

compared to my eighteen. You'd think my opinions would count for something, especially on things like the security.'

'The system was beefed up about a year ago, though?' said Morris.'I had to threaten to resign to get even basic updating. I wanted infra-red motion detectors at

least in the main exhibition halls. Not a chance in hell, he told me.''They wouldn't have been any help the night of the raid, anyway,' said Andersen.'I'm aware of that. I was just making a point.''We still don't know how they got in,' said Morris. 'No forced entry anywhere. They must have

had keys.''I don't see how. There are three master sets of keys. I have one set, Willows, my deputy has a

set and of course Richards. They never leave our person while we are on duty and we take our individual sets home with us.'

'Okay,' said Crowe. 'But none of the alarms went off. Why were they not turned on that night?''They were. I saw to that myself. Even with keys, entering the premises would trigger them off.''No forced entry and alarms conveniently turned off,' said Andersen, 'Is not a good look. It

suggests an inside job.' He watched Stanton's face for reaction. It wasn't a look of surprise on his face, just one of bitter disappointment.

'I'd already figured that out,' said Stanton. 'I just wasn't prepared to say it out loud until I'd heard it from you guys.'

Morris said, 'We need to have it mapped out exactly where everyone was at the time of the raid.'

'Easier to show you,' said Stanton. 'Come on.'

Chapter 6

Fred Ducket felt uncomfortable knowing something about Poppy Mitchell's mother that she didn't know herself. She was at her desk when he let himself in.

'What the hell did the human race do before computers?' he asked, rhetorically.'Lived happier lives, I expect. There. Finally finished.''That looks good.''As long as the customer likes it. I would have finished hours ago, if I could concentrate.'Ducket kissed her. 'Fancy going out, or shall I order take out?''You know what? I want to go out. Just for a bite and a couple of drinks. The Irish bar does an

okay meal, and I like the beer. I'll grab my coat.'It was raining slightly when they stepped outside, but the pub was only a block away. It was

early and the evening custom hadn't started arriving, so they found a table for two out of the way where they could talk. Ducket ordered Kilkenny's and steak and kidney pie for two. They sipped the creamy beer as they waited for their meal.

'Find anything out?' asked Poppy.'I took the letter with a known sample your uncle gave me, and the expert confirmed they're the

same.''So it's true. She's alive.''You should be pleased.''No. I'll never forgive her.'

'Perhaps if you give her the chance...'Poppy shook her head. 'Too late for any of that. How would you feel, if your mother faked her

own suicide, just to abandon me and my father like she did?''All the same....''The food's coming. I'd like to change the topic of conversation, if you don't mind.'The aroma from the Guinness flavoured pie wafted off the steaming plates.'Enjoy,' said the waiter.'Thanks.' The flaky pastry crackled as they cut into it.'Anything on that robbery?'Ducket said, 'I didn't see the team. They were still out when I clocked off. They aren't too keen

me working on your mother's case, especially as I can't tell them what it's about.''I suppose all we can do is to wait for her to contact Uncle Bernie.''I'll keep chipping away at it in case something turns up. Anyway. Putting work aside, I wanted

to suggest something.''What?''Well, and I'll understand if you say no, but I've been thinking about moving out of Mom and

Dad's place.''A good idea. I was eighteen when I left Uncle Bernard's. I'm amazed you haven't already done

that.''Convenience. Plus affording something halfway decent. Poppy. We've been together, what six,

seven months? I spend half the week around your place as it is. Why don't we find a place together?'

'Seriously? You want us to live together?''It makes sense. Between us, we could find a bigger, better place than your little flat. A spare

room you can set up a proper office, that kind of thing.''I didn't realise you felt that strongly about me...about us, our relationship.'They were interrupted by the waiter. 'Enjoy your meal?' he asked.'Perfect,' said Poppy. 'Another couple of beers will wash it down a treat.''Coming right up.'With the waiter gone, Ducket said, 'I just thought it made practical sense, that's all.''How romantic.''Not my style, I'm afraid. Anyway. It's something to think about.'

Chapter 7

'There were seven of us on duty that night. Usually, there are just four, but with the exhibition, we pulled a few double shifts, so we had seven. I stayed in here with Dobbs, whilst Smith, Friar, Hardcastle, Willows, and Pritchard, continuously patrolled to relieve the monotony. It helps keep us alert and fatigue away. Don't forget it wasn't just the exhibition stuff to keep an eye on. We have all the upper and lower floors to guard, too.'

'Right,' said Andersen. 'You wouldn't be able to say with any certainty where anyone was at the time of the raid?'

'My men are responsible guards. I've known them all for years, apart from Mike Pritchard, the one who was shot. He's only been here, oh, about eight or nine months. Nice bloke. Very reliable.'

'You did background checks on all your men before taking them on, I expect,' said Morris. 'Any of them have criminal records?'

'Dobbs. Had a drop too much to drink one night, starting a fight in a pub and he ended up hitting a man so hard he went flying through a plate glass window. Nearly died from a cut artery. Dobbs served a year for that. Never had a drink afterwards.'

'And that was before joining your crew?' said Morris.'Nearly four years before. That was about seven years ago. He was open and up front about it,

half expecting me to turn him down. I believe if a man has paid for his mistakes, he deserves another chance. He's a top man.'

'Fair enough,' said Andersen. 'Our own police records confirms all that. Moving on. You stationed yourself in here on the second floor with Dobbs. The others continued patrolling the rest of the place.'

'Correct. It takes about twenty five minutes to get round all of it, top to bottom, so there would probably be at least one on each floor at any one time.'

'Mr Richards, the manager, he stayed in his office?''Most of the time. He did have a couple of patrols by himself, though. Between you and I, I

think he was nervous. He knew he had underestimated security and was a bag of nerves. He would never normally stay over that late at night.'

'And the raid was at exactly two in the morning?' said Andersen.'Yes. I was about to go for a coffee, when I heard a right old racket. Next thing I knew, four

men, ski masks and camouflage jackets, all armed with what looked like semi automatic rifles, pushing Richards in front of them with his hands on his head.'

'Anything else you can remember about them?' Morris asked.'Oh. One more thing. They were wearing those white covers over their shoes. You know, like

your Scene Of Crime team wear.'Crowe said, 'They don't seem to have missed a trick. By this time, all the alarms and the CCTV

cameras were off?''Correct.''And the security control room is on the ground floor, next to the side entrance,' said Andersen.

'So, somebody who works here turned off the alarms and opened the door. Letting in the raiders, they ran up the stairs to Richards office and forced him at gunpoint into here.'

Stanton said, 'It looks that way, or they had a key and let themselves in. Somebody on the inside must have still turned off the alarms, though.'

'No key,' said Crowe. 'They wouldn't need one with an inside man all ready to let them in. Why did they shoot Mike Pritchard?'

'Because Mike was a bloody fool. I saw him through that open doorway, one of the raiders just inside, with his back to him. We were all penned up in that corner, and the man by the door had his gun trained on us while the others grabbed the jewels. Mike got some fool notion in his head. I gave a little shake of my head to stop him, but he made a grab at the raider and suddenly there was a wrestling match going on.'

'Mike Pritchard got shot,' said Crowe.'No. Not at that point. He did get a smack to the groin which floored him. All the jewels had

been bagged up and they dragged Mike along with them, yelling if we made a move, they would kill him. Mike was shot outside, left to die in the gutter then they drove off.'

'Right,' said Andersen. 'What then?''We waited a minute and then called the police.''And here we are. Okay. I think that covers it. You and Richards should go home and get some

rest. I don't want you saying anything about this being an inside job. Not to anybody, including Richards. We'll get everyone in the police headquarters and do formal interviews. We know somebody here that night was an accomplice.'

Chapter 8

A chill ran through the Chief's veins. It was like talking to a ghost. 'Sandra.''Bernie. I can only talk for a few seconds. I need to see you.''Where? When?''Where I cut my knee. Tomorrow at noon.''Sandra...'She had hung up on him. With his hands slightly shaking, he poured a brandy and knocked it

back in one hit. Even after all those years, her voice hadn't changed one bit. But what the hell did she mean? Where she cut her knee? One thing was certain, she was afraid of being overheard. She was in trouble and had gone to her big brother for help. Once again he turned up for work the next morning in civvies. He went to Ducket's office first.

'And you figured out what she meant?' said Ducket.'About three this morning. The memory finally broke through. When we were kids, me twelve,

Sandra eight, we were in Bloomsberry Park. I'd promised to teach her how to ride a bicycle. She had been given a new one for her eight birthday. Anyway, we found a quiet area in the playground. Up and down we went, up and down. She peddling away, me holding the saddle, keeping her upright. Then she suddenly took off. She was doing pretty good. A little unsteady, but not bad at all. Then she lost her balance and off she came. Her left knee hit the ground first. Quite a nasty gash. Lots of blood. So I sat her back on the bike and as quick as I could run with her, I got her to the hospital. Nine stitches. That's where I have to meet her at noon today.'

'Is that why you are in civvies, Sir?''Yes. She was as nervous as hell. I could sense the fear in her voice. I don't want to stand out

like the proverbial sore thumb. I'd like you there too, Ducket.''Me?''Not in any obvious way. Just keeping an eye on us, looking out for any strange characters. Will

you do it?''Of course. I know the park. Is it the playground the side of the tennis court?''Yes. It hasn't changed in decades.''I'll go in my own car,' said Ducket. 'We'd be too obvious going together.''I was about to suggest that. If you go early, you can find a place to be out of sight.''I'll go after eleven.''Thank you, Ducket.'

Chapter 9

The detectives had finally gone home for a much needed sleep. They were back in Morris's office at nine the next morning.

'We don't rule any of them out,' said Andersen. 'Not even Richards or Stanton.''Not with a share of millions on offer,' said Morris.'Right. The only one with any real form is Alistair Dobbs.'Crowe said, 'He isn't any higher up my list than any of the others.''Let's start at the top,' said Andersen. 'Richards the manager.''He bothers me,' said Morris. 'It could all have been a ploy, the men taking him at gunpoint to

the exhibition room. He could just as easily knocked off the alarms and let them in. After all, who would suspect him of robbing his own museum?'

'That thought crossed my mind, too,' said Andersen. 'Stanton, for much the same reason.''He said he was with Dobbs most of the time on the second floor,' said Crowe.'It doesn't mean he was,' said Morris. 'Not all the time, anyway.'Crowe said, 'Stanton was also carrying a grudge, at least against Richards, if not the museum in

general. Certainly no love lost there.''Any of the others have equal place on my list,' said Morris.'The only one I'm ruling out at this stage is Mike Pritchard,' said Andersen.Morris said, 'We could do with the Ferret doing some digging in cyberspace for us. He manages

to find information in the most bazaar places.''Is he still on that job for the Chief?' Andersen asked.'Your guess is mine,' said Morris. 'The Chief is certainly spending a lot of time with the lad

these days.''I'd love to be a fly on the wall,' said Crowe.'Forget Ducket for the time being,' said Andersen. 'We have all the security guards and Richards

waiting to be interviewed. I propose we three stick together and look as intimidating as we can. We leave Richards and Stanton until the end.'

'Let's get cracking then,' said Morris, fixing his face into its most intimidating expression.

Chapter 10

The Chief strolled casually along the path in Bloomsberry Park, a newspaper tucked under his

arm. He didn't need to look at his Rolex to know it was three minutes away from noon. It had been five years or more since his last visit to the park. It was after his wife Joyce had passed away of cancer. He had left the hospital with Poppy, both devastated. He couldn't get his head together enough to drive, so they had walked in silence through the park, the pair oblivious to the rich autumnal colours and the fallen leaves crunching dryly as they waked arm in arm.

In the distance, he could hear the happy sound of children playing and suddenly he was back as a gangly legged twelve year old boy, helping his kid sister to ride her new bike. As he reached the playground with the spinning red and yellow roundabout, the swings, slides and a sandpit, he could see there were only two children and their mother. Could that be Sandra? No. Too young. He sat on a bench, opened up the newspaper, taking odd glances over the top of it, trying to see Ducket. He couldn't. Five minutes later, the mother and children were heading home. Ten minutes more, there was still no sign of his sister. Had something happened to Sandra? Another five minutes and he folded up the paper again. He hadn't seen her arrive, but a woman in a long gaberdine coat was suddenly sitting on the bench.

Without looking at him, she said, 'There's a young man in a brown leather jacket behind the bandstand. One of yours?'

He chanced a quick look at the woman in sunglasses. The coat was open and he could see her legs. The scar on her knee was visible. It was her, Sandra. 'Yes. Sandra, he's...'

'Not Sandra. Sandra's dead.''But you're...'Still not looking at him, she said. 'My new name isn't important, Bernie.''This is ridiculous,' said Bernard. 'Why all this cloak and dagger nonsense?''Because people will die if we slip up.'There was a calmness in her voice that chilled his bones. That there was no doubt in his mind

she meant every word.'The grey hair suits you,' she said.'Goes with the territory. It's written into our contracts of employment. We Chiefs have to look

distinguished.''Do you trust me?''Try asking your daughter that question and see how far you get.''I deserved that. How...how is Poppy?''She was doing just fine until you returned from a watery grave.''The watery grave was the only way I could protect her. Protect all of you.''What?''I have to go. I've been here too long as it is. Will you help me?''How? What is it you expect from me? What do you want from me?''Not now. But I need to know.''Yes. Of course I'll help you.'And then she was walking away pulling the long coat around her slim body, and she was gone.

Chapter 11

It took five and a half hours of interviewing the museum manager and the guards individually. Allowing for genuine human error, they told reasonably consistent and collaborating accounts of the night of the raid. Of course not everything could be verified and cross referenced, because for some of the time, they were patrolling the museum alone. When asked directly, all vehemently denied being the insider. There was only one problem. One of them was lying. With not a lot to go on, the men were allowed home, apart from Richards and Stanton, continuing their duties at the museum which had been closed for the foreseeable future.

The report from Andrew Carter, the S. O. C. team leader, confirmed what they already knew. These thieves were the top of their profession. All the team had found were smudges off gloved hands and covered feet. Not one shred of tangible evidence had been found. Heavy rain had washed away any chance of tyre tracks on the tarmacadam surface.

'Polygraph tests?' suggested Crowe.

Morris shook his head. 'Too unreliable to be admissible in court.'Andersen was feeling the pressure. 'There must be bloody something we can...' he was saying,

as his phone chimed. 'Andersen. Shit! Oh, sorry, Sir. Please go on. Right. Okay. We'll be right over. Thank you, Sir.'

'Where are we going?' asked Morris.'The Japanese Embassy. They have just received a ransom demand for the return of the jewels.

The number starts with one with a whole load of noughts after it. Come on.'It was a hour and a half as the Crowe drives, the embassy being a purpose built building more

than a century old. The Japanese flag waved back and forth in the westerly breeze. They were greeted by a serious faced young man in a light grey suit. He scrutinised each I. D. in turn, studying each face and comparing it to the photograph.

Finally satisfied, he said, 'This way, please,' in impeccable English.The three story building was deceptively spacious inside. There was a reception desk where

visitors had to sign in which the detectives obliged. They were led up the stairs, the walls of which were lined with eminent Japanese leaders, most it seemed, unable to crack a smile. Morris had the feeling they were looking down in judgement of him, as if it had been his personal responsibility the jewels had been stolen. The place seemed to be full of incredibly busy men and women, doing incredibly important work, incredibly efficiently. The young man in the grey suit stopped before an imposing door of a golden wood. There was a button that operated a bell and that was pushed, just once. Above the door, a small green light lit up. The man opened the door into a huge office lined with the same golden wood. A man, surprisingly ancient, stood leaning on a stick of gnarled, highly polished wood, topped off with a silver handle in the shape of a dragon's head.

'Consul General Akihiro Yamagata,' said the young man with a graceful bow.Yamagata bowed also.Three detectives did likewise. From memory, the young man perfectly introduced the

detectives, then he left the office.'Please. Join me here by the window.'By a large bay window were six, red leather armchairs, angled to face each other, but providing

a view over the city. Unsure of the protocol, they waited for Yamagata to sit, which he did with some difficulty.

'Forgive me. My great age offers little kindness to my poor body. Thank you for coming here, detectives.'

'We are here to do anything we can to help the safe return of the jewels, Consul General,' said Andersen. 'Sir. If I might ask...'

Yamagata raised a bony hand. 'First thing first, Detective Inspector Andersen.'The doorbell rang but without waiting for a reply, it opened and a young woman in a simple

one piece black tunic, pushed a trolley with a tray of elaborately decorated tea bowls and a matching teapot. The woman placed the tray on the low table and bowed to Yamagata first, and then the visitors, who each responded with a nod of their heads. Kneeling on a mat at the side of the table, she used a bamboo scoop to spoon the freshly pounded green tea into the pot and poured boiling water over it. Then she used a whisk to infuse it. Finally, she poured the tea into four bowls, stood up, bowed to Yamagata then the detectives, then pushed the trolley out of the office. Following Yamagata's lead, they picked up the bowls and sipped.

'Something of a Westernised version, but it is symbolic of you being welcomed here.''Thank you,' said Andersen, itching to get down to business. 'You have a recording of the

ransom demand, I believe?''Yes. All incoming calls to this embassy are recorded. There is a button to press on my desk. If

you would be so kind, it would save me some discomfort.'Andersen pressed a single black button set into the huge desk top. Seconds later, the man in the

grey suit appeared. As if in anticipation, he was carrying a disc player and he placed it on the table. He then pressed a button.

'For the safe return of the jewels, we demand twenty million. This is to be in cash, in unmarked notes, to be delivered to a destination we will advise you on, at a time and date to be specified.'

'Is that it?' asked Morris.'In its entirety,' said Yamagata. 'A copy has been made for you.''Thank you,' said Andersen. 'And this call was received...?''Precisely twelve noon today. It was relayed to our ambassador who returned to Japan after

the ...incident.''We are all very embarrassed by the...incident,' Andersen assured him. 'If we are unsuccessful in

recovering the jewels and apprehending the thieves, is it your governments intention to pay up?''Inspector. The Empress Jewels are almost on a par with the Crown Jewels of England. Not just

in monetary value, but as an iconic symbol of our nation. They are beyond price, so yes. We would pay up. However, our government would prefer the apprehension of the villains and the safe return of the Jewels.'

'Of course, Sir.''If that is achieved, it will go no small way to address the discontent felt by my government.''We understand, Sir. Confidentially, we are certain the thieves had inside help and we are

working diligently to ascertain the individual concerned. This in turn, should lead us to the thieves.'

Yamagata smiled and said, 'I have every confidence in the abilities of your police force and have personally expressed that sentiment to the ambassador.'

'We thank you for that expression of confidence, Sir. We will now proceed with the investigation.'

With the aid of the cane, Yamagata got to his feet. Another round of bowing concluded the meeting. The man in the grey suit led them to the reception desk, handed them a copy of the disc and they were heading back to headquarters.

Chapter 12

'Are you okay, Sir?' They were back in Ducket's office.The Chief sighed. 'That was without doubt, one of the strangest and emotionally draining

situations of my entire life.''What were your impressions?''That she's in big trouble. It has to do with her former work as a spy.''Have you stopped to consider it isn't former work? Perhaps she never really stopped working

as a spy.''I suppose that's quite possible. She's scared, though, and not just for herself. She said I had to

help her, because peoples lives depended on it. She also said, or at least implied, she disappeared because her family were in danger at that time. Me included.'

'In that case, she made an incredible sacrifice to protect you all.''Yes, Ducket. I see it all in a new light. She didn't run away or abandon us. She gave up her

family, so that we could live.''You should tell Poppy, Sir.''No, Fred. Not until we nail this one down completely. Fred...''I know,' said Ducket. 'Get busy.''Thank you. I'm going to see the team and get an update. Don't mention the events of today to

Poppy.''No, Sir.'In Andersen's office, he found the three detectives listening to the recording. He listened a

couple of times with them.'I rather expected this,' said the Chief. 'Those jewels are too hot to be broken up. The value is in

their entirety as a collection and as a symbol to the Japanese people.''I'm about to get it to a sound engineer,' said Andersen, 'In the unlikely event any background

noises yield any clues.''Worth a shot,' said the Chief.Morris asked, 'Is the Ferret still tied up, Sir?''Very much so. In fact, more than ever. Sorry I can't say anything.'

'No worries,' said Morris. 'It would be good to have the lad's input''That all depends on...,' said the Chief, interrupted by Andersen's phone.'Andersen. That is great news. When will we be able to talk to him? Excellent news. Thanks for

letting me know.''A breakthrough?' Crowe asked.'Hopefully a big one. Mike Pritchard has had the bullet removed and is expected to make a full

recovery. We should be able to talk to him tomorrow morning.''That is good news,' said the Chief. 'I suggest you have him guarded twenty four seven as from

now. Once this gets out, the gang know he'll be able to identify them, possibly.''They wore masks,' said Crowe.Andersen said, 'The Chief's right. We will try to keep it out of the media, but these things have a

way of slipping out. They won't hesitate to take Pritchard out of the equation. Too much at stake.'

Morris was already on the phone, organising Pritchard's security. 'All sorted,' he said.

Chapter 13

'Have you thought any more about us getting a place together?'The smell of the stir-fry filled the tiny flat. It would linger for days in such a confined space.

Poppy dished up as he opened a bottle of red wine.'Not with this business of Mom filling my head. I promise to think it over, though.''Fair enough.'Ducket picked up on Poppy's reticence and concentrated on his meal. He had so much he

wanted to tell her, like, I saw your mom, and she's an older version of you. And, she is one gutsy woman and if you only knew the truth....But instead he held his own council, half his mind on the case, half his mind thinking about his future with Poppy and the other half thinking....! But he had to let it go.

Lives were at stake. What the hell did that mean? The Chief, Bernard, was not a man who easily succumbed to emotion. From what little he knew of the silver haired fox, he was always a man who was logical, erudite, supportive of his people, understanding of their foibles, and ruthlessly honest. Even if it hurt he would tell the truth. So his sister was a spy. What did that mean? Not the thesaurus definition, but the human definition. To Ducket, in this instance, it meant taking the higher road, putting what you believed in for your country above all else, including the love of your own family. Could he do that? He doubted it. Whatever was going on, he knew Sandra Mitchell, or whatever name she was going under these days, was, is, an exceptional lady.

'What line of work was your mom in?' he asked, with a liberal sprinkling of innocence.Poppy pushed the half eaten meal away. 'I was too young to really understand. She travelled a

lot. All over the world. Cosmetics, I think. Some kind of executive representative.' She gathered the plates and scraped the leftovers into the rubbish bin. 'Was that salty? Where did that salt come from? I didn't add it.' She started to cry.

'Hey.' He got up and held her tightly. 'Let it out. Talk to me.''Dad was never as clever as Mom. She earned the money, he stayed mostly at home, looking

after me. But he had his pride. He had to contribute. So he started a lawn mowing business. He worked hard, and did a good job. It wasn't about the money. Mom earned a good living. His business grew and suddenly he was employing people. He would take on no hoper's; give them a chance. Sure, a few screwed up, a couple even ripped him off. But the business grew and he just managed it. Within two years, he could spend most of his time at home, running the business, bringing in a good income and spend his time with me.'

Ducket thought, not one, but two remarkable parents. No wonder she's so bloody...brilliant.'He sounds like a neat bloke.''He was the best father a kid could ever have. And I tell you something else. He was the best

husband a wife could ever have. He never strayed, at least to the best of my knowledge. And I wouldn't have blamed him. Most of the time it was just me and him, Mom all over the bloody

world. And he loved her so much....the letters, the phone calls. God knows what Mom was getting up to.'

She paused, her eyes glazing over, barely keeping the tears at bay. He sat her down and poured more wine. He could tell she was in that faraway place between the here and the then. He sat quietly, not pushing anything along. Waiting for her to talk, but only if she wanted to talk.

'Somehow, we always had Christmas together. And I would have such fabulous presents from the two of them. I was the envy of the school. But I would have traded all my fancy, expensive toys for a stocking full of walnuts and oranges, just to have my Mom at home.'

Ducket sighed. 'I never had that problem. Mom works in admin for the council. Dad is a welder. I never had your issues.'

'Then you'll never understand. But, when she came home, even then she didn't spend the time she could have with us. We were close to the sea, and she had a tiny sail boat. She would take off alone, just drifting in the waves, and it was always understood, this was her special thing. Husband and Daughter not invited.'

'You resented that.''Wouldn't you?' She looked anywhere but at him. 'The day she died...the day she pretended to

die. Oh, God. I don't know, but beneath the smiles and laughter, the three of us together, like we were a real family, there was something. Maybe the extra cuddles and kisses should have been a clue. Dad helped her get the boat in the water, and made sure she was wearing her life-jacket. She kissed him. So much I had to turn away. And she kissed me. She was crying. I can still taste those salty tears. She said...she said I love you, Poppy. And off she went, into the waves.'

'So you waited on the beach?''Dad cooked a fish dinner on the barbie. All the time I was looking out for Mom. It started to

get dark. Mom always returned before dark. Not this time. Dad called search and rescue. They soon found the boat, but not Mom.'

'And they found the note.''Yes. Pinned to the mast. Dad found it. The body was never found. Every day, Dad would stand

on the beach, looking out to sea. Sometimes he would be drinking. Standing, waiting, drinking. I would be sitting in the sand, watching Dad, looking out for Mom. A week had gone by, and still no sign of a body. So, Dad said, we will push the boat out. He laughed when he said that, but he was drunk. He got a few litres of petrol, soaked the boat and set it alight. He pushed it out into the waves, and we stood together, and he held me in one hand, a bottle of booze in the other. There was a full moon that night, and we watched the boat bobbing up and down in the sea, and then it finally sank.'

'Saying farewell.''I guess. The drinking got heavier. Sometimes I would hear him in his room, crying. For a

while, I was looking after him, not the other way round. Uncle Bernie and aunt Joyce did what they could, but within the year, he'd died. Uncle Bernie took me in. I hate my mother.'

Ducket took her hands in his. 'If there was more to it than you ever realised, would you still hate her?'

There was a moment. A deep, meaningful, trust me if you dare kind of moment.'If you know something, Ferret, now is the time to tell me.'

Chapter 14

At police headquarters, Ducket's heart skipped a beat. About to unlock his office door, he was aghast to find someone had beaten him to it. With trepidation, he turned the handle opening the door a fraction, and he could see the light was on. Not having the luxury of a window, even during the daytime the light was required.

'Come in, Mr Ducket.'It was a woman's voice, a woman who shouldn't be in his office. Nobody should have been in

his office. She was sitting on his chair, the one he had “borrowed” from the cafeteria. Cautiously, he entered and closed the door behind him.

'You might wish to lock the door, Mr Ducket.'

He didn't ask who she was. He had a very good idea who she was. 'Mrs Mitchell. How did you get in here?'

'Nobody expects anyone to be illegally entering a police headquarters, so most of the internal locks are pretty basic.'

'Even so...''It doesn't matter. So. You are my daughters young man.''I have that privilege,' he said, parking his backside on the corner of the desk. 'Is that why you

are here, to see if I am good enough for her?'She smiled. She looked so much like Poppy. Her eyes seemed more intense, and to the side of

the right eye was a scar that make up only partially concealed. Perhaps slimmer than Poppy, being a mature woman hadn't diminished her looks, but instead gave her a flavour and character experience bestowed on the older women.

'I know you are well suited. Not a bad meal in that Irish pub, by the way.''You were there?''For a little while. Have you told her you love her, yet?''I really don't think that's any of....' He stopped himself. 'No. I think she knows how I feel.'She shook her head. 'Mr Ducket. Don't you know a woman needs to be told?''But what if she doesn't feel the same way about me?'She sighed. 'Do I have to spell it out? She loves you, trust me.''I have asked her to live with me in a flat together. She's thinking it over.''She'll say yes, when she's ready. You telling her the 'L' word will seal the deal. Now. What do

you know about me? I expect Bernie's told you I'm a government agent?''Still?''Very much so. Does Poppy know about that?'Ducket shook his head. 'I almost told her last night, but I held back.''Good. Maybe later, but not now. You are the one they call The Ferret.'Ducket just shrugged.'You are much too handsome to be called a Ferret.'He felt himself blushing. 'It's nothing to do with how I look, it's because...'She smiled that huge smile again. 'I'm teasing you. I know why you are called The Ferret. I

need your help, Ferret.''If you'll let me, I'll be pleased to help you.''Thank you. What do you know of my disappearance all those years ago?'You faked your own death, left a note on the mast of your sailing boat, people assumed you

had drowned yourself, even though a body was never found.'She stared at him for a moment, deciding just how much to reveal. 'My husband and Poppy

didn't know what I really did. The cosmetics representative work was merely a cover, and this allowed me to go all over the world. Tell me Ferret. Do you love your country?'

'Of course.''Good. That's as it should be. To me, what I did was more than just a job.' She rubbed the scar

on her forehead, thoughtfully. She saw him watching her do that involuntary action. 'This is one of several. I didn't always get away unscathed. My point is, to me, the money is a bonus. I am passionate about what I do, and expect to die doing it.'

'Is your life in danger?''Yes. But not just mine. Going back to my disappearance. Even in those days, terrorism was

rife. I had information. But I slipped up. They knew who I was.''Who were they?''You don't need to know. I had certain computer files of theirs. My problem was, I discovered

my immediate superior was a traitor. I killed him.''You murdered your boss?''No, Ferret. Not murder. I eliminated a traitor. In my business, that's not murder. That's doing

my patriotic duty. So then I had a dilemma. If he was a traitor, were there others in the department? Before I could hand over the information, I needed to find out whom I could trust. The trouble was, time was running out.'

'What did you do?''The terrorist cell in this country caught up with me.' Again, she rubbed the scar. 'They

threatened my family if I didn't hand over the computer files. They beat me up, until I passed out. Thinking I was close to death, they got sloppy and I escaped. Nobody threatens my family. But I was running out of options. I posted the information to the top minister of the time, responsible for National Security, along with my I. D. and a note telling him all I knew. Then I faked my death, hoping by doing so, my family would be safe.'

'Clearly that worked.''Yes. Immediately after, there was a shake up of the department, and my even my boss's boss

was arrested, charged with treason. He's still inside. It seemed most of the department was rotten. The terrorist plots I uncovered were averted and several cells were arrested.'

Ducket looked at the remarkable woman. 'But you had to sacrifice being with your family.'She fixed him with a stare. 'And I'd do it again, in a heartbeat.''I believe you. But now you are in trouble again?''Not just me, Ferret. The whole country is.''Does your brother know you are here?''No. And I don't want him to know, either. The less he knows, the less danger he'll be in.''Okay. What do you want me to do?''Something of vital importance. Go get me a coffee.'

Chapter 15

From the cafeteria, Ducket got two coffees to go. He was about to return to his office, when a familiar voice called to him.

'Ferret. Over here.'Morris, Crowe and Andersen were together at a table. As much as he didn't want to, he went

over to them.'Hi. How's it going?''Good, thanks for caring,' said Morris. 'Any danger of you helping us out, yet?''Sorry. Kinda busy. As soon as I can...' He paused. 'Where are you on the case?'Andersen said, 'We know it was an inside job. We just can't pin a tail on a donkey, yet.''One of the guards?''Yes,' said Morris. 'Or even the manager. One of those present let the thieves in and turned off

the security alarms.'Crowe added, 'I've just talked to the doctor. The guard who was shot is still recovering, but we

might be able to get something out of him in a few hours.''At least he's one we can cross off the list of suspects,' said Morris.'How so?''What? Because the gang shot him, Ferret.'Ducket shrugged. 'Maybe the gang just didn't want him to have his cut of the robbery.''Shit!' said Andersen.Ducket had never seen the three detectives move so fast, almost bowling over the Chief on

their way through the door.'What was that all about?' asked the Chief.'Dunno, Sir. It must have been something I said.'

Chapter 16

The detectives raced up the steps two at a time, running along the corridor to the one bed recovery ward. Slumped over on a chair was a uniformed officer. They crashed through into the ward, to find a man in a white coat, with a syringe in his hand, poised to inject it into Mike Pritchard. Crowe was on him first, knocking the syringe out of his hand, and smashing his fist into the man's face. The one punch was enough.

'The syringe is still full,' said Morris, picking it up.'What's going on?' Mike Pritchard opened his eyes, a confused look on his face.

Andersen said, 'You've just had a visit by an ex-colleague of yours, and I don't mean a guard.'Morris was outside, yelling for a doctor for the unconscious officer. A nurse and a doctor

appeared in seconds.'What's going on?' the doctor demanded.'This constable needs help. He may have been drugged. One of the villains was about to finish

off Pritchard.''Nurse,' said the doctor, checking the constable's pulse. 'Get this man to emergency. I'll take a

look in there'.'That was damn close,' said Crowe, handcuffing the stunned man on the floor.Andersen said, 'Thanks to the Ferret. Even when he isn't on the case, he still bloody solves it.'The Ferret had his own case to work on. But when he got back to his office, she had gone. On

his desk was a note. On it was written one word. Soon.

Chapter 17

Andersen was beaming as he took the call. 'Yes, ambassador. Our pleasure. Well, it was team effort. I'm just glad you have the jewels back and we have the gang responsible. I appreciate that, Sir. Thank you, yes. Right. You too, Sir.'

'A very happy bunny, by the sound of things,' said Morris.'He's over the moon.''Thanks to The Ferret,' Crowe reminded them. 'We should go and thank the lad.'They took off for Ducket's office, to find it locked and they didn't get a response when they

knocked on the door.'Well, it is six thirty,' said Crowe. 'I expect the lad's gone home.'Andersen said, 'It's been a long day for all of us. Come on. Let's give the Chief the good news.'In the Chief's office, the civilians had gone home, but the Chief was still there.'You three look happy about something.''The case has been resolved, Sir,' said Andersen. 'Jewels recovered, thieves banged up nice and

cosy.''Excellent news. Well done.'Morris said, 'It was Ducket who put us on the right track and just in the nick of time. Another

five minutes and we'd have had a dead constable and suspect.''Ferret never stops surprising me,' said the Chief. 'Well, I'm off home myself. Good job, team.'Fred Ducket had indeed been on his way home, but when he got to his car, he found an

envelope on the drivers seat. His car had been locked, and it still was. He unlocked it but before getting in, he picked up the envelope and looked around the empty car park. Opening it, he took a very quick look at the contents, locked the car and hurried back to his office. He was just unlocking it when the three detectives were coming down the steps from the Chief's office.

'Hey, Ferret,' said Morris. 'I thought you'd gone home.''No, Sir. Not quite. Stuff I have to do.''Fair enough. We just wanted to say you put us on the right track and the case has been solved.''Oh! Okay. Glad I could help.'Andersen said, 'We owe you one. A big one. Anyway we can help you?''Not really, Sir. I'm just off into cyberspace again.'Morris said, 'Right. But if we can help somehow, you give us a yell, mate.''No worries,' said Ducket, unlocking his office. 'Good night.'He turned on the light and then 'Old Cranky,' his computer. 'Old Cranky' might have been

temperamental, but it was way more powerful than any shop bought model. The modifications had served him well in the past, and he was going to push the beast to the limits again. Locking the door, he draped his jacket over the back of the chair, and opened the envelope. He was no stranger to hacking into other computers, all in the name of putting away the bad guys, and he was about to do it again. He cracked the knuckles of his long fingers and got to work.

Chapter 18

It was past midnight when Ducket got back in his car, setting off for home. Because of the late hour, he decided to go to his parents home, rather than Poppy's. He was too tired to have any meaningful relationships with her that night. As he pulled out of the underground car park, he turned on the radio.

'...and although details are sketchy at the moment, it is believed the Empress Jewels have been recovered and the thieves have been apprehended. A spokesman for the detectives on the case, has issued a statement praising the methodical and professional way the team tracked down the gang, adding that.....'

Ducket turned the radio off. Before leaving his office, he had made one telephone call. It was brief, lasting only seventeen seconds.

* * *

Sandra Mitchell trusted almost nobody. Trusting people, in her chosen profession, had cost her dearly. Her husband, her daughter. Even if there was the slightest chance of a reunion with her brother and daughter, which she doubted, what about those lost years? Fifteen years of not kissing her little girl, or reading her a bedtime story. Fifteen years of missing her brother, his birthdays, his promotion to chief. Not being there for him when Joyce died, that long and wasteful death. And for what? A country going down the tubes, with one pathetic government after another, going down one wrong road after another, making a nonsense of her sacrifice. If she died that night, and there was a very real chance she would, who would miss her? She knew her department, by tradition, wouldn't even acknowledge her existence, let alone send her off with a glowing eulogy. It was the way of their world. The way of the spy and the way of her life.

She sat in the dark, in the stark, converted warehouse, sitting waiting, waiting to do what she had to do. She had no weapons: needed no weapons. She was where she was because of a computer wizard who, from the snippet of information she had given him, had tracked them down. Then he had hacked into their computer, broken their passwords, intruded their software, downloaded their plans. He was probably one of only a handful of people in the country who could have done what he had done so quickly. If she failed, their plans would be carried out, many would be killed or injured and the government of the day would be decimated.

The key unlocked the door and the light was turned on. There were just the three of them, and when they saw her, sitting, waiting, guns were drawn.

'You!''Hi, boys. Surprise.'She pressed the remote button on her lap, which triggered a tiny explosive, blowing the lights,

plunging them into darkness. The guns all fire at once, the darkness lit up by the flashes from the muzzles, but they were firing at where she had been, not where she was. The guns continued to fire, but one by one they were silenced. Within twenty seven seconds, three armed terrorists lay dead.

'It's been a pleasure meeting you boys again.'She let herself out, walked casually to her car and started the engine. Through the open

window, she pointed the remote and the explosion that followed shook the ground beneath her. She smiled, an empty smile of an empty achievement, three more people laying dead in their own blood, killed by her bare hands. In the rear-view mirror as she drove away, the warehouse was a mass of flame and more explosions. The irony that she'd used their own explosives, wasn't lost on her.

But they had friends. They always had friends. And their friends wouldn't be happy. Her bags were packed in the trunk of the rental car, her passport, under yet another new name, was in her pocket with the airline ticket, booked one way.

And she thought of her daughter, such a remarkable young woman, capable, bright, good, and knew she couldn't ever dare see her again. She had to get away and hope and pray the bad guys would follow her. It was, again, the only chance she had of keeping her family safe. As she drove towards the airport, she wiped away the tears with the back of her hand.

Chapter 19

'Will you be coming here tonight?''Not sure. Probably not, Mum.'Ducket kissed his mother on the cheek and got in his car. All morning he had avoided the news.

As he started the engine, he turned the radio on.'...unsure as to what caused the explosion. Fire service crews are still damping down the

building and a full investigation as to the cause is expected to take several days....'He turned the radio off. He was going to work, for another day at the office.