power can do.”
“Girl power?”
“Ask one of your daughters, they’ll remember.”
Chapter Twenty -One
The two detectives dejectedly walked through the multi storey car park. Bentham sighed as he unlocked his car with his remote. “Can’t believe we’re going back South empty-handed.”
Norman opened the passenger door and sat inside. “Going to be a little embarrassing when we get back. The Chief isn’t going to like it.”
“Tell me about it. He’s already given me an earful over the phone.”
“Still, maybe if we crack Vladimir’s CD, then it might get the ball rolling again.”
“Nothing to report on that yet , though.”
* * * *
The motorway stretched out for miles ahead. The black tarmac carved through the rolling green of the Scottish lowlands. Red tail lights of the cars ahead were in contrast with the white light of the oncoming cars on the opposite lane. Norman noticed the speedometer was cranked a dozen miles over limit. “In a hurry?”
“No.”
“Nearly doing ninety. Last thing you need is a few points on your license.”
“Don’t worry about me, get some sleep.”
“It’s Roxy, isn’t it?”
Bentham smiled. “Maybe.”
“She might not be home, though.”
“I hope she is.” Bentham glanced in her rear-view mirror as he switched lanes. “But even if she isn’t, I can die a happy man after the other night with her.”
“Sounded pretty darn brutal to me.”
“I doubt my back will ever be the same.”
* * * *
The sun had fallen and the street was clouded in darkness. A bleep was followed by the yellow flashing indicators on the Jaguar as Bentham walked the short path to his suburban semi. He opened his front door and slammed it behind him. “Rox, how come you didn’t reply to my text this morning? Dropping his sports bag on the floor, he shouted up the stairs, “Are you around?” Walking from room to room he found nothing but his own reflection in the bathroom mirror. Sighing to himself he disrobed and threw his clothes over the towel rail. “Another fucking frozen pizza”.
The grease stained pizza box sat by his feet. A cold beer in hand and stripped to his vest and boxers, he sat slumped in front of the television. Spatters of ketchup and cheese trailed down his vest. The stress and disappointment over the course of the previous few days had taken their toll on him. Exhausted, Bentham fell asleep.
A thud from upstairs caused him to stir from his light sleep. Another thud was followed by a faint whisper from upstairs. He stood from the armchair and grabbed the pizza cutter from the box. Carefully opening the door, he crawled through before stealthily climbing the stairs. Waiting at the bedroom door, he listened in, but heard nothing. Taking a deep breath, he barged inside glancing in both directions. Standing in the darkness, Bentham failed to see the shadowy figure lurking behind the door.
“Gotcha !”
“What the..?”
A screaming banshee jumped on his back causing Bentham to scream and drop the pizza cutter. He rammed backwards, crushing his assailant against one wall and then another. Grabbing the attacker’s bony arms he pulled and flipped the stranger over his shoulders, before landing a punch in the dark.
A familiar female voice screamed in agony. “What the fuck , Dave?”
“Roxanna?”
Roxanna kicked out, striking Bentham in his thigh. “That hurt, you bastard! Right in my gut.”
“Shit, I’m really sorry, Rox.” Bentham switched on the light. He saw Roxanna curled up on the bed, holding her stomach. “Where did you come from?”
“I was hiding.”
“Why would you do that? You scared the shit out of me.”
“I wanted you to think that I’d gone … and then I’d give you a nice surprise.”
The bed creaked as Bentham sat beside her and rubbed her belly. “You nearly gave me a heart attack.”
“I just want you to miss
“Girl power?”
“Ask one of your daughters, they’ll remember.”
Chapter Twenty -One
The two detectives dejectedly walked through the multi storey car park. Bentham sighed as he unlocked his car with his remote. “Can’t believe we’re going back South empty-handed.”
Norman opened the passenger door and sat inside. “Going to be a little embarrassing when we get back. The Chief isn’t going to like it.”
“Tell me about it. He’s already given me an earful over the phone.”
“Still, maybe if we crack Vladimir’s CD, then it might get the ball rolling again.”
“Nothing to report on that yet , though.”
* * * *
The motorway stretched out for miles ahead. The black tarmac carved through the rolling green of the Scottish lowlands. Red tail lights of the cars ahead were in contrast with the white light of the oncoming cars on the opposite lane. Norman noticed the speedometer was cranked a dozen miles over limit. “In a hurry?”
“No.”
“Nearly doing ninety. Last thing you need is a few points on your license.”
“Don’t worry about me, get some sleep.”
“It’s Roxy, isn’t it?”
Bentham smiled. “Maybe.”
“She might not be home, though.”
“I hope she is.” Bentham glanced in her rear-view mirror as he switched lanes. “But even if she isn’t, I can die a happy man after the other night with her.”
“Sounded pretty darn brutal to me.”
“I doubt my back will ever be the same.”
* * * *
The sun had fallen and the street was clouded in darkness. A bleep was followed by the yellow flashing indicators on the Jaguar as Bentham walked the short path to his suburban semi. He opened his front door and slammed it behind him. “Rox, how come you didn’t reply to my text this morning? Dropping his sports bag on the floor, he shouted up the stairs, “Are you around?” Walking from room to room he found nothing but his own reflection in the bathroom mirror. Sighing to himself he disrobed and threw his clothes over the towel rail. “Another fucking frozen pizza”.
The grease stained pizza box sat by his feet. A cold beer in hand and stripped to his vest and boxers, he sat slumped in front of the television. Spatters of ketchup and cheese trailed down his vest. The stress and disappointment over the course of the previous few days had taken their toll on him. Exhausted, Bentham fell asleep.
A thud from upstairs caused him to stir from his light sleep. Another thud was followed by a faint whisper from upstairs. He stood from the armchair and grabbed the pizza cutter from the box. Carefully opening the door, he crawled through before stealthily climbing the stairs. Waiting at the bedroom door, he listened in, but heard nothing. Taking a deep breath, he barged inside glancing in both directions. Standing in the darkness, Bentham failed to see the shadowy figure lurking behind the door.
“Gotcha !”
“What the..?”
A screaming banshee jumped on his back causing Bentham to scream and drop the pizza cutter. He rammed backwards, crushing his assailant against one wall and then another. Grabbing the attacker’s bony arms he pulled and flipped the stranger over his shoulders, before landing a punch in the dark.
A familiar female voice screamed in agony. “What the fuck , Dave?”
“Roxanna?”
Roxanna kicked out, striking Bentham in his thigh. “That hurt, you bastard! Right in my gut.”
“Shit, I’m really sorry, Rox.” Bentham switched on the light. He saw Roxanna curled up on the bed, holding her stomach. “Where did you come from?”
“I was hiding.”
“Why would you do that? You scared the shit out of me.”
“I wanted you to think that I’d gone … and then I’d give you a nice surprise.”
The bed creaked as Bentham sat beside her and rubbed her belly. “You nearly gave me a heart attack.”
“I just want you to miss
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