Advent '23 - Chapter Eighteen - Cassie
It takes a thief
Coming a little late to the party? You can catch up from the beginning by clicking here: Chapter One
Jet had tried – and failed – to talk her out of it but there was simply no way Cassie wasn’t going to be there. She wanted to see who this person was that was slowly trying to ruin her life. And she wanted to watch them get caught! She wondered if Angie Hadlow would have to use force. A taser would be nice. Maybe she’d even let her have a go, too.
They’d agreed to meet near the entrance to the bank at 4am. She wondered if this was another attempt to put her off but agreed without quibble. Another short (not to mention restless) night had ensued, but she was determined.
She rose at three-thirty and dressed in black trousers, black jumper and sky-blue coat. It would have to do; it was the only one she had.
She met Jet at the door to the apartment building.
“Don’t you have anything darker?” asked her friend. “You’ll stick out like a Christmas tree.”
“No, I don’t!” she snapped back. “I’ll just have to stand behind you. That is if you’re not arrested on the way.”
Jet was dressed all in black and had covered most of her face in what looked like shoe polish.
“Will you be able to get that off, after?” she asked, peering into Jet’s face.
“Of course. It’s only chocolate sauce.”
When they arrived at the bank, the inspector was waiting. She took in their appearance and sighed but said nothing.
They followed her into a side street and down a ramp. The car park was empty apart from a classic Jaguar that Cassie thought was probably worth more than her and Jet’s salaries combined. Possibly Angie’s too. Probably belonged to one of the bigwigs who was taking advantage of the free, central-London parking.
“Over here,” said the inspector. “We can set up base behind this dumpster and catch them when they arrive.”
It was smelly but Cassie was pleased to see that the ground around it looked fairly clean.
“Wait,” said Jet. “There’s something there, by the lift. That’s our meeting point.”
“We can’t have missed them,” said Cassie, “It’s barely gone four; we have almost two hours yet.”
“I’ll check it out,” said Hadlow.
Cassie watched her walk across the car park and stop in front of the lift. She crouched down and took something out of her jacket pocket. Cassie couldn’t see what it was, but she used it to prod the object on the ground.
“I hope it’s not a bomb,” said Jet.
“A bomb? What on earth makes you think that?”
“My aunt used to tell me stories about buildings being evacuated because of bomb threats by the IRA.”
“But you don’t seriously–”
“Over here, ladies,” called the inspector. “It seems we’ve been outsmarted.”
The two women raced over to see what had happened. Inspector Hadlow raised to her feet as they approached.
“See for yourselves,” she said.
Cassie looked down. A cheap-looking leather holdall sat on the ground. It was open and looked to be full of twenty-pound notes.
“We’re too late,” said Jet. “But you can take it for fingerprints or something, can’t you?”
“I can. But I don’t think you want me to.”
“Why not?” said Cassie, furiously. “Don’t you want to catch him?”
“Take a closer look. There’s something in there besides money.”
Cassie bent down and peered inside the bag. Sitting on top of the cash was a small plastic card. She looked closer and her hand flew to her coat pocket. Her own face peered back at her. It was her building ID card from the bank.
Read on by clicking here: Chapter Nineteen