"Complete access it is." Alice put her commset on the counter. "How long?"
"Twenty minutes."
"Make it ten."
"Fifteen."
"I'll be back in ten."
"Then you'll have to wait five minutes when you get here, won't you?" The woman took Alice's commset and vanished out the back.
Alice left the workshop feeling pleased. She'd been trying to find someone to unlock her commset in Dismolle, but Birch was the only person she knew with the right contacts, and she knew he'd tell Harriet. The pair of them treated her like a wayward daughter sometimes, instead of a member of the team.
Whistling tunelessly, she continued to the next shop, which sold spares for robots. The display windows were full of arms and legs, chest plates and heads, all nestled on faded velvet with little price tags carefully tied to each piece. Alice walked in, and a balding man behind the counter took one look at her before fleeing out the back.
"It's not a raid!" shouted Alice. "I don't care if all your stuff is bent!"
The man came back sheepishly. "Sorry, I thought I heard the kettle boiling."
"Two men in their twenties. One blond, one with dark hair. Seen them?"
The man shook his head.
"Really?" Alice noticed beads of sweat on his forehead, and on a hunch she tried pressing him. "We've got them down the station right now, and they've just given us a list of the shops they hit. We're trying to give the cash back, but if they haven't been here I can't help you." So saying, she turned to leave.
"Wait! They were here this morning."
Alice hid a smile. "How much did you pay?"
"Two thousand a week, that's what they were after."
"That's not what I asked."
"Five hundred," said the man. "It was all I had, barring pocket change."
"Right, well when we catch them I'll make sure it's returned to you."
"Wait … you mean they're still out there?"
"Sure."
"You said they were at the station! You said they were locked up!"
"I guess your kettle drowned my voice out, eh?" Alice eyed him thoughtfully. "When are they coming back?"
"Next week," said the man shortly.
"Well, if we haven't caught them by then, my team will stake this place out. So relax, Mr …"
"Stammit."
"Relax, Mr Stammit. Leave everything to the Peace Force."
"And I thought they'd left everything to us," muttered Stammit.
Outside, Alice looked up and down the street. There was another store further up the road, and she decided to try there before meeting up with the others.
Chapter 5
"Here you are, dear. Help yourself to the biscuits, too."
Harriet took the delicate floral cup with its matching saucer, and selected one of the chocolate biscuits to go with her tea. She thought it was just as well Alice wasn't there, or the whole plateful would have been vacuumed up in seconds.
"So how's life treating you?" Birch asked Timms.
"Don't ask."
"I just did, sir."
Timms sighed. "I thought I'd set myself up as a private detective after they binned me, but …" she spread her hands. "Nothing doing."
"Nobody hiring?"
"No cases at all. Not even grubby little affairs, and I wouldn't have touched those for ten times the money." Timms banged her fist on the coffee table, making them all jump. "I am so angry about this afternoon. No, I'm furious!"
"We'll catch them," Harriet reassured her.
"That's not the point. I left poor old Rose alone with those thugs. I should have stayed and knocked their fat heads together, that's what I should have done!"
Harriet hid a smile. Timms was eighty if she was a day, and the mental image of the old woman beating up two fit young men, whilst wearing her huge black hat and overcoat, was too much. She coughed politely, and sipped the tea. Then she coughed for real.
"Oh, that must be mine," said Timms, and she swapped cups. "I put a little something in to take the chill off."
A little! thought Harriet. Her tea had been laced with enough alcohol to power Alice's new ship.
"Don't beat yourself up, sir," said Birch gently. "If you'd tackled those men, you'd be in hospital right alongside Lefty. Your job was to raise the alarm, and that's exactly what you did."
"Thanks, sergeant. That's kind of you, but it should never have happened."
"Did you get a good look at the men?" asked Harriet.
"I didn't want to stare at them, but I did get a detail or two."
Harriet's heart sank. She'd been hoping for more.
Meanwhile, Timms rummaged in her bag until she found a notebook. "Here we are. This is today's incident." So saying, she tore off the top page and handed it to Harriet.
On the page, in dense writing, was everything from the men's estimated height, build and distinguishing marks, to their eye colour, the shape of their faces, and a description of their clothes and jewellery. "A few details, you said."
"It would have been more, but I didn't have a lot of time." Timms turned to Birch. "I heard a rumour you'll be interested in. It seems an old friend may have returned to our fair city."
"Oh yes?" said Birch, his expression guarded.
"Anita Darting."
"That woman is no friend of mine," growled Birch.
Harriet eyed them both. Was Anita his ex? Then, seeing the expression on Birch's face, she decided not to ask.
"Well, it seems she's come back to her old stamping grounds," said Timms. "I thought it might be relevant to your case."
"You can't be serious!" protested Birch. "Surely she's learned her lesson by now?"
"She went away for a long time, but … well, some people are just so stubborn, aren't they?"
"If she is behind this protection racket—" began Birch.
Harriet realised this wasn't some private matter. "Who's Anita Darting?"
"A nasty piece of work." Birch eyed his cup, a frown creasing his forehead. "She had her fingers in every crooked pie in the city. Extortion, money laundering, drugs, weapons, you name it. Caused havoc for years, until …"
"Birch put her away," explained Timms.
"The lives she ruined … jail was too good for her," growled Birch.
"She certainly ruined yours," said Timms gently.
"That's ancient history,"
