Chapter 8

 

April would have preferred to have met Tom, her parole officer at the gallery, but he’d insisted she was to come to the office and he would take her and introduce her to Ingrid Ruth the cleaning supervisor, who would be her boss for the next three months.

Although she didn’t know Tom Campbell personally, she knew enough about him from the file the police held. She was one of those lucky individuals that could retain information. If she was asked, she could recite verbatim exactly how his life had panned out from university to his current position as a highly regarded parole officer. She’d researched every single detail about everyone she was to come into contact with to bring Rider to justice.

Tom put the car into gear and moved away to the car park exit.

“How you getting along with public transport?” he asked. “You must be more used to nipping around in a Volkswagen Golf or something, rather than the local bus service?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, “but I think they might smell a rat if I turned up in a flash car for a cleaning job.”

“I’m sure you’re right,” he agreed, turning his head from left to right as he edged the car out of the car park onto the main road. “How are you feeling, nervous?”

“Nope. Keen to get started. It’s been a long time getting to this point.”

“Tell me,” he asked, “why does a beautiful young woman like you want to get involved in this? You’re not telling me it isn’t without risks.”

She didn’t answer. What business was it of his?

“Is it just the money?” he pressed.

“Mmm, something like that.” She turned to stare out of the window, hoping he’d get the message and shut up. He did for a few minutes but when he stopped at traffic lights, he asked, “Isn’t there some bloke out there wanting you at home with him?”

It’s probably easier to verbally shut him up.

She turned her face towards him as he concentrated on his driving and the road ahead.

“Tom, the less you know about me, the better. Any why, what, who or where, has nothing to do with you. I can’t stress enough that it’s absolutely necessary for you to be my parole officer, nothing more. I understand you have been chosen due to your ability to be of assistance to us, so I need you to forget who I am, just treat me as one of your ex-cons.” She widened her eyes questioningly, “I’m hoping that won’t be too difficult for you.”

She waited for him to nod he understood where she was coming from. She carried on, “And please don’t try and second guess me. I have this covered, but only if you go along with what I say. Don’t be thinking you can save me . . . I’m just a young woman . . . I need protecting. I don’t. I’m an experienced police officer, and while I’m quite sure things may unexpectedly change from the plan, I’m more than adequately prepared for that. What I don’t need is you deviating from your part. You treat me as you would anyone else released from prison.”

“Okay,” he nodded, “I’ve got it. I’m your parole officer. No slipping out of that. If that’s what you want.”

“That’s exactly what I want, and what you’re being paid to do. The last thing I need is for my cover to be blown. One mistake could mean it’s all over.”

“You can rely on me,” he reassured, “they’re paying me enough to pull this off. With a bit of luck, when this is all finished, I’ll be able to take early retirement.”

“Let’s hope it’s not going to take too long, then.”

“Well, like I already said, it could be over before it begins if you get on the wrong side of the cleaning supervisor, Ingrid Ruth. We’ve had ex-prisoners start their rehabilitation here before, but they never last long. She sees to it they don’t. I don’t profess to know the working ways of a woman’s mind, but I do know the ones that look anything like you, don’t last.” He lifted his eyebrows, “So whatever happens, don’t get on the wrong side of her.”

She knew all there was to know about Ingrid Ruth. She didn’t need advice from him.

“Thanks, I won’t.”

“Right, we’ll get you started in there, the rest is up to you. You’ve got my number in your phone, haven’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Use it if you have to. It’s perfectly legitimate for you to have problems initially which may result in you contacting me.”

“Thank you, I will.”

Shut up now for Christ’s sake.

“Can I ask you one thing?”

She widened her eyes as if to say, yes, only one more though.

“What makes you think you can pull this off? I mean, Dylan Rider’s no fool, and neither is that brother of his, Victor. They have a reputation of being a formidable pair. What makes you think you’ve got what it takes to bring them down?”

He turned into the gallery car park and pulled into one of the vacant designated staff spaces. She waited until he applied the brake and cut the engine so that she had his complete attention.

“Just stick to your part of the plan,” she emphasised, “that’s all you need to do. As for me, I have precisely what it takes, and from now on, you’re going to see a different side of me. I’ll be playing a part, you need to remember to play yours and treat me exactly the same as any other ex-con.”

She rested her hand on the door handle but didn’t open it.

With a determined look on her face, and calmness in her voice, she emphasised, “And just so you know, I will bring Dylan Rider down. Nothing’s more certain than that.”