‘That’s fine,’ she replied. ‘Shout me when you’re ready.’
Heaving her camera bag onto her shoulder, she walked through to the bar area where she saw Emma, who she already knew from Beech Field. Emma was sat at one of the tables; the suspect seated on a large, brown leather sofa. The two were chatting quite affably. From where she was stood, she could tell he was a similar age to her – mid to late twenties. He was white with a muscular build; his long, toned legs were stretched out in front of him as he lounged back.
He was dressed in khaki-coloured combat shorts and a navy-blue T-shirt. He must have heard her come in as he paused mid-conversation and turned towards her. His brown, unruly hair looked endearingly flattened on one side, suggesting he had been asleep when the search teams entered. Maya was struck by his startling, electric-blue eyes which were framed by long, dark eyelashes, which would be the envy of any woman.
‘Another police officer. There’s no need – I’ll come quietly. Not like that crazy bastard,’ he quipped. Maya’s uniform of black police trousers and dark-coloured shirt with epaulettes, meant it was easy to assume she was a police officer as she was dressed so similarly to officers from the search team.
‘I’m not a police officer – I’m a SOCO – scenes-of-crime officer – or CSI if you prefer the Americanism,’ she explained.
‘Wow, really?’ Maya caught a flash of dimple as he smiled at her. ‘That must be really interesting. I bet you see all sorts doing your job. So, you’re a forensic expert then?’
‘I wouldn’t go that far, no. I prefer to think of myself as a Womble. Someone who collects other people’s rubbish; fingerprints, DNA, body parts or whatever.’
‘So,’ he said, smiling at Maya, ‘do you come here often?’
‘Do you get arrested often?’ she countered. His laugh echoed around the bar. It sounded unnaturally high, suggesting that, despite his apparent bravado, the raid had unnerved him.
‘Honestly, no. This is my first and last time. I’ve done nothing wrong. I promise you. I appear to be a victim of circumstance.’
‘Another one.’ Emma sighed cynically.
‘Innocent until proven guilty,’ he replied. ‘What do you think?’ he said, turning to Maya as he gave her a rictus grin. ‘Do I look like a guilty man to you?’
‘I wouldn’t like to say.’
‘Fair enough. Let’s talk about you instead. You haven’t even told me your name.’
‘No, I haven’t, have I.’
‘Oh, okay. So, I don’t have a name, I know what you do for a living and I guess you’re local because of your accent. What else?’
Maya had dropped onto a chair and was concentrating on her camera settings. ‘That’s on a need-to-know basis and you don’t need to,’ she retorted without even looking up.
‘Oh, you’re feisty. I like feisty. I reckon you and I would get on well. Don’t you think we make a cute couple, Emma?’
‘I’m not getting involved,’ replied the police officer sensibly.
‘Hey, how about, when Emma here realises I’m innocent and releases me from custody, you take me out for a drink and then you can get to know me better?’ He feigned a cheeky smile.
‘Thanks for the offer, but I’d rather put shit in my hands and clap. Now, how about exercising your right not to say anything?’
He clutched at his chest as he made a mock swoon. ‘You are harsh. I think I’m in love.’ Maya appraised him with a death stare that would make most people shut up. It had the opposite effect on the suspect as he attempted to talk to her again.
Suddenly, Cliff emerged into the bar area and nodded towards Emma. ‘The van’s here. The custody suite is ready to accept this one. Can you do the honours and go with them and get him booked in,’ he instructed.
‘No problem, Cliff. Come on, Romeo.’ Emma took the suspect by the elbow and helped heave him up from the couch.
‘Bye for now then. Hope to see you around again sometime.’ He grinned and tried to give her the best wave he could, despite the handcuffs. Maya couldn’t help but smile back. He was quite a character.
‘Bloody idiot!’ Maya muttered to no one in particular as she followed Cliff through the pub.
‘I’ve met worse,’ Cliff commented.
‘Oh, so have I, much worse. But not one as annoying as that for a long time.’
With a flick of her hair, she dismissed any further thoughts of the arrested man. She concentrated on the task in hand and proceeded to take a series of photographs of the property before the search teams moved in to systematically tear the place apart. Watching the police dog, an eager spaniel called Bailey, sniff around for traces of drugs, cash or firearms, Maya was filled with a renewed sense of exhilaration and a love for her job. Her satisfaction was marred by the underlying knowledge that her dream career was balancing precariously on a lie.
7
Within twenty-four hours after his arrest, Spencer James was accompanied out of Beech Field police station. The custody detention officer waved him off as he pressed the exit button to the custody suite. Spence sighed with relief as he pushed his way through the weighted door. The whole experience had left him in a state of shock.
His detention at the police station had been excruciatingly slow and stressful. He had requested a duty solicitor, even though he was quick to point out that he had done nothing wrong. He had been left to stew in a cell until the solicitor arrived. A reedy, exhausted-looking man with bad breath and stale sweat patches under his arms, seemed all that lay between Spence and his freedom. The solicitor advised Spence to provide a no-comment interview, but he had declined. He remained adamant that he had nothing to
