Burned at the Edge
by Rusty Nail

Chapter Two: The Other City that Never Sleeps

The city of Greater London and consecutive thirty-two boroughs is home to approximately seven point five million people in six hundred and nine square miles; speaking three hundred different languages, a melting pot of race and culture. With so many people living in such close proximity the city was never dark, not anymore, street lamps and twenty-four-hour corner stores made sure of that, these were the main reasons for the black out curtains that hung in most of the third floor bedrooms on Barnaby Street. Flats on the third floor flat were just on the right level to get the orange glare of the streetlights head on; the curtains were the kind they used in theatres.

In the darkness a woman rolled over in her sleep, tucking her arms under her pillow. On the pine bedside table, her phone called out shrilly and she reached out with numb hands to grab hold of it. She flipped it open and mumbled "Lloyd." into the receiver; after a few silent moments she sat up and shoved the duvet back, there was a practiced precision in her actions. She slapped the phone shut and crossed a few steps of beige carpet to her en-suite bathroom.

"What time is it?" a voice croaked.

The woman turned and looked over her shoulder, the nightlight in the shower room she had flicked on gave her hooded shadows below her eyes and chin and threw the bedroom beyond into harsh relief.

"It's work. I have to go in." she said dully.

The man looked at the clock on his side of the bed. It read as just after four o'clock. He rubbed his face groggily, scratching his chin though dark stubble that was on the verge of becoming a beard, "Will I see you later?"

"I don't know, it depends," she shrugged, "I'll call." She concluded, closing the shower room door.

A moment later the man, still lying in bed, half propped up on one elbow, the man heard the sound of pressurised water hitting the inside of the shower, then the door closed signalling that his girlfriend was now showering. He sighed and rolled over; it took him only a few minutes to fall asleep again.

The woman ran the water semi-cold, she needed to wake up. Her Boss wanted her in immediately, which meant no breakfast and even a shower was a luxury, it was one she needed. She had to wash the grime of the day before and more importantly the night off her skin. She emerged in a cloud of floral smelling steam five minutes later and stumbled around in the semi dark and her early morning stupor getting dressed.

At a quarter to five Detective Inspector Harriet Lloyd slammed her car into her parking space and killed the engine. London was shrouded in a cold grey mist and she was wrapped up in a black knee length business coat over a navy trouser suit and blue shirt. She wore no make up and her grey eyes still held a glazed stare, even her hair was still damp from the shower. She grabbed an orange scarf with an irritable noise from the seat to her right and opened the door.

Her partner rolled into his own spot just as she locked her doors with her electronic key fob. Harrie stood and waited as Ed Stone heaved his six foot self out of his vehicle. He was well over a head taller than Harrie, jovial and good natured he tampered out her more taciturn manners perfectly. They were the Good Cop, Bad Cop team of the Met's CID.

"Mornin', Harrie." He called, "Nice scarf."

"Don't mention the scarf. Geoff bought it." she groaned as he walked over to her, a thermos in his hand, probably poured and hand sealed by his wife, Melissa. They started to walk towards the entrance of the Metropolitan Police Station, "Boss called you too?"

"Yeah, sounded like he's got a right bee in his bonnet if you ask me." Stone nodded.

"Murder?" Harrie asked with a sarcastic smile. She already knew the answer.

Stone agreed, "Murder."

Matching each other's pace they ascended the small flight of steps and pushed open the heavy double doors at the top. They made straight for the Detective Chief Inspector's Office, on the fourth floor and when they entered they were still wearing their coats, bringing in a rush of cool air to the stagnated office building with them.

"Ah. Lloyd, Stone, you made it, perfect timing." DCI Tallentire didn't get up from his desk. He was shuffling papers around and glanced up at the man and woman before him, "Got a call this morning from Soho, a club owner complained about the smell coming from the burnt out bar next door, the one that was torched last month, said it was driving away his punters."

"Burnt out bar?" Ed scowled, tracking back through his memory.

Harrie slid her hands into her pockets, recalling. "Deviate."

"That's the one."

"You sent Uniform in?"

Tallentire nodded gravely, "They found dead bodies in the kitchen, or what was left of it."

"Bodies?" Stone's eyes widened.

"Four of them"

Harrie looked at Stone and he looked back at her, matching her furrowed brow. She turned back to Tallentire, her semi-damp blond hair swinging under the florescent lights, "All due respect sir, but Stone and I aren't on duty for another four hours, plus we already have a full case load. Aren't Blair and Trent the go to DI's right now? They finished up that domestic murder in Brixton last Monday..."

"Lloyd. We both know that Blair and Trent can barely paint by numbers let alone handle a multiple homicide. Besides, all four victims were shot; we need a ballistics specialist on this one."

"Consider us there, Boss." Harrie said, with an obviously forced smile and a salute.

"Wipe that expression off your face." Tallentire commanded, she obeyed, "The media's going to be all over this one, after the fire and the riots so keep everyone tight lipped as you can. I don't want to talk to the media about anything. Off you go."

Lloyd and Stone turned and exited the office, made their way into the stairwell and Harrie rubbed her eyes tiredly once she knew she was out of Tallentire's sight. She had nine case reports sitting on her desk; her case load was full to bursting and really didn't know if she could face another one. But Tallentire was the Boss and what the Boss said was law; if he wanted her on it that was that.

Stone shook his head, "Big black guy, pretty white woman, how much do you want to bet that's why he really handed us this mess?"

"You know I don't gamble." Harrie replied, skipping down the steps in front of Ed, "but you're right. The poster team for London CID strikes again. I'll drive."

Ed nodded, watching Harrie from behind, "What's wrong with you this morning?"

"Nothing's wrong with me. I'm just tired. We're not meant to be on until nine, remember? I was looking forward to a full six hours of sleep." She replied, a little too quickly.

"Ah." Something told Harrie that Ed didn't quite buy that explanation. It wasn't that it was a lie, she really was exhausted; it was more like a half-truth. Nevertheless Ed didn't say anything more and Harrie lowered herself into her car behind the wheel and buckled in. She drove within the speed limit, barely, and got them down to Soho in ten minutes flat.

Deviate -fashionably spelt "DV8"- was already cordoned off. Three uniformed officers stood around the entrance, behind a strip of crime scene tape. Two men in white coveralls were standing off to one side with their hoods pulled down around their necks, Tallentire had obviously told the CSUs that they weren't allowed into the scene until Lloyd and Stone had had a look around.

"Morning, Detective Inspectors," a Uniform said, "the scene's as is... no one's been in since us this morning."

"Good." Lloyd said, pushing past him and into through the doorway.

"We appreciate it," Ed smoothed over, watching his petite blonde partner don white gloves as she made her way to the kitchen, "We'll probably only need about five minutes then the CSUs can get in here."

"Alright, sir."

By the time Ed had caught up with Harrie she was in the Kitchen area, shining her torch around. Three young girls lay overlapping each other, they were gagged and had their hands bound behind their backs and two of them were face down while the third lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling dully. A man lay directly opposite them in a huge pool of his own blood; Harrie was tiptoeing around it, swinging her light to and fro.

"Jesus... that smell..."

"What; the blood, the burnt wood or the faeces?" Harrie asked grimly, making to cover her mouth and nose with the crook of her elbow.

"Try all of the above," Ed covered his nose and mouth with his handkerchief, "bloody hell..."

He knew better than to talk to much when Harrie was examining a scene, she liked it quiet, she liked to try and reconstruct what had happened, as if she could almost hear it replaying itself, her instincts were good, great even. She had the instincts and he had the rule book and that was how their dynamic worked. He was there to stop her breaking procedure as she was liable to do and she was there to pull the threads of an investigation together; a successful formula.

"Harrie?"

"Hunh?"

"The CSU wants in; you done?"

Harrie looked up; she was crouched down next to the central girl and avoiding the blood splatter behind her. She nodded thoughtfully and Ed signalled for the waiting forensic workers to come into the kitchen. She stood and crossed back over to Ed, who looked decidedly green, she started to talk but he interrupted,

"Can we talk outside?"

Harrie complied and Ed led the way back outside where he crossed over to the crime scene tape, keen to get as far away from the doorway as possible. She followed him.

"Those girls were executed," She said,

"Executed?"

"From what I could see of the middle girl, her hands were tied behind her back, she was gagged and the bullet wound was direct to the forehead, there's powder burn all around the flesh, scarring from what I could see though the blood. Suggests no remorse from the killer and a conviction to follow through; an execution." She looked back to the door.

Ed followed her gaze, he could sense a change in her, this was starting to become personal to his partner already and that meant trouble down the road if he didn't distract her. "Hey, the test-tube-brigade is going to be a while from the looks of the scene. You want breakfast?"

Harrie looked up at him with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, "Are you buying?"

"No."

"Eh, it was worth a try." She shrugged, "Let's go to Dinah's..."

To Be Continued