‘You think that is what I care about?’ he snapped in my ear.
‘Ha! I know it is all you care about. Your public image is everything to you. So have the damned collar, I already said you could. But get your people moving and help me find Jane and Jan.’
He growled out his next words. ‘Do not raise your voice to me, Mr Michaels, I will not tolerate it. You sail too close to the wind all too often and seem to forget how generous I am with your misdemeanours.’
He kind of had a point. He knew I had been shooting a firearm in public yesterday and wouldn’t have too much trouble proving it if he chose to. That was the subtextual threat I heard anyway.
Nevertheless, what I said next couldn’t be printed. In the passenger seat, Hilary blushed.
Quinn was silent for a second, seething at the other end of the line. ‘Any more of that, Mr Michaels, and I shall arrest you on sight the next time we meet. My team will investigate the alleged disappearance of Constable Van Doorn. If indeed he is missing, I will require a full statement from you.’
‘I’ll be at the Blue Moon office.’ I said the words and jabbed the red button to end the call. Then I began the task of berating myself for losing my cool. I knew better than to raise my voice and use profanity. Generally, I pride myself on my ability to remain calm and unflustered when those around me are starting to panic.
There was something about Quinn that rubbed me the wrong way, I guess. He made me spit feathers more often than anyone I had ever met.
It was done now and even if I could undo it, I wasn’t going to.
I pressed harder on the accelerator and fired the sleek, white Lotus toward the dark horizon. I was keen to get back to the office.
Jane. Electricity. Friday, December 23rd 2007hrs
It took another hour, using the heel of my boot to smash away at the plaster around the door until I exposed the electrics inside. There was no handle on the inside of the cell, nothing for me to grab and pull, and the gap around the door where it fitted into the frame was no greater than a fraction of an inch.
Once my hands were free and I could move on to tackle the door, I kicked it and shoved it and barged it with my shoulder just to see what it would do. All I got for my effort was some bruises. It was after I gave up kicking and shoulder barging it that I chose to attack the wall.
I surmised that there had to be a lock keeping the door closed. Maybe it was electronic and maybe it was mechanical. Maybe I could do like Shawshank Redemption and chip right through the wall to the other side.
I doubted there would be time for that, but luck chose to give me a break because I found the cable almost straight away.
Well, actually, what I found was the plastic conduit it ran in, but its presence inside the wall made the plaster thin and when I whacked it, the conduit flexed a little and the plaster broke up.
It still took what felt like an hour and I found myself questioning how long I had been working at getting free. Was it three hours? Was it four? More than that? Where was the Sandman? Why wasn’t he trying to stop me?
These questions and more swirled endlessly around my head as powder and grit from the plaster coated my skin. I was damp with sweat and deeply uncomfortable, but the option of taking a break never occurred to me. I was fighting for my life.
With almost a two-foot section of the conduit exposed, all the way from the mid-point of the door where I expected the lock to be, and upward to the top of the door almost, I started to yank at it.
It was not my first attempt to get the cable out of the wall, but previous attempts had all failed because I had too little leverage and too much of the conduit was still trapped inside the wall.
This time, losing a fingernail in the process, I was able to get enough purchase to rip it free.
By about an inch.
A fresh shower of plaster rained down to land at my stockinged feet. Sharp pieces were already digging in. My boots were ruined, the heels battered down to almost nothing, yet they were all I had and better for running and fighting in than forty denier nylon.
I shuffled carefully to the bed to put them back on, dusting off the soles of my feet as best I could first. Taking a second to eye up my latest challenge, it was time to see if I could convince the door to open.
As I said before, I am not an electrician. I can do stuff with computers but if you think those two things are somehow linked, you could not be more wrong. I never touch the electronics inside a computer, I simply manipulate the data available.
So looking at three wires as they exited the conduit to go into a device mounted inside the wall, I really had no idea what I was looking at. I also didn’t have any tools, so stripping the wire, getting to the electricity inside and … what? Hotwiring it? Not only did I have no idea how to do that, I also wasn’t entirely sure what it meant.
I clenched my jaw, grabbed all the wires and the conduit, placed my
