Balance of Power: A British Crime Thriller (A DCI Pilgrim Thriller Book 6) Read online

  BALANCE OF POWER

  A DCI PILGRIM CRIME THRILLER

  BOOK 6

  By

  A L Fraine

  The book is Copyright © to Andrew Dobell, Creative Edge Studios Ltd, 2019.

  No part of this book may be reproduced without prior permission of the copyright holder.

  All locations, events, and characters within this book are either fictitious, or have been fictionalised for the purposes of this book.

  Book List

  www.alfraineauthor.co.uk/books

  Acknowledgements

  Thank you to my wife Louise for her tireless support, my kids for being amazing, and my family for believing in me.

  Thank you to my amazing editor Crystal Wren for her critical eye and suggestions, they’re always on point.

  Thank you to my fellow authors for their continued inspiration.

  And finally, thank you to you, the readers, for reading my crazy stories.

  Table of Contents

  Book List

  Acknowledgements

  Table of Contents

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  20

  21

  22

  23

  24

  25

  26

  Author Note

  1

  Jess’s phone beeped and buzzed, making her jump. It snapped her out of the daydream she’d been lost in as she mindlessly watched another episode of Rich House, Poor House.

  It was one of those programmes she just couldn’t help but get lost in. It was like an addiction, one that could be both life-affirming and aspirational. Although, if she wasn’t in a good mood, it could send her spiralling into a grumpy stupor as she remembered her old life. The weekly struggle of not having enough money. The bare cupboards, the ever-present hunger, and the arguments. That was always the worst part. Back before her mother disappeared, when things had been really bad and they were forever getting at one another, it was like living in a warzone.

  But she was out of all that now. Away from her father’s dodgy dealings and her brother’s troublemaking, but most of all, away from their rude, disgusting comments about how she made a living.

  Jess shook her head to clear those thoughts from her mind and picked up her phone. There were a couple of alerts waiting for her, a message from a friend, and a notification from HoundPic.

  She could guess who that was.

  Opening the text from her friend, Lisa, she read it silently as the TV played to its audience of one in the background.

  “When are we hitting the town again, J?” It read. “I wanna see if I can find that guy.”

  Jess raised an eyebrow at her friend's message and tapped in her reply. “Which one, the ginger one, or the bald one?”

  A shrug emoji appeared in reply. “Either.”

  “Whore.” Jess answered and chuckled to herself.

  “I know, right?”

  “I guess I’ve not got much room to talk, though.” Jess answered, adding some laughing emojis at the end.

  While she waited for Lisa to text again, she navigated over to the HoundPic app and opened it. Her feed appeared on the screen, displaying the images from the other profiles she followed. She tapped on the icon on the top right. Her profile appeared, along with her bio and thumbnails of her images. She briefly scrolled over the recent images of herself that she’d posted, passing a critical eye over them, spotting things she’d do differently before she entered the messages section. There’d been a few new ones come in, and they seemed to be the usual comments.

  Declarations of love, compliments on her appearance, suggestions about what she should post next, and the inevitable smattering of sexual suggestions that came with the territory of doing what she did.

  She didn’t care much. They were paying subscribers, they paid to see her sexy pictures, and they paid well, which in turn paid for her house, food and bills.

  At the top was another new message from Wyndy.

  She opened it.

  “Hiya. How are you tonight? What are you doing? Not watching more Rich House, Poor House, are you?”

  For a brief moment, Jess panicked as she wondered how he knew. But, the answer was obvious. They’d talked about this before and her addiction to that particular programme. Like her, Ken ‘Wyndy’ Wyndam enjoyed the programme, especially the part when the rich family helped the poor one at the end.

  She returned her attention to the message.

  “It’ll rot your brain, you know, watching that. Trust me, I know from experience.”

  Wink emoji.

  She started typing her reply. “You’ve got a partially rotted brain? That’s probably why you pay money to see photos of my ass.” She always enjoyed needling him with sarcastic comments and seeing how far she could push him. He deserved it after that stunt he’d pulled on her a few weeks ago.

  Her chest tightened as she remembered that day. She had vivid memories of opening her front door to find one of her fans on her doorstep. It was a moment of pure terror, realising that this middle-aged man knew where she lived. She still didn’t quite know how he found her address, but she believed she handled it well.

  Hell, he’d promised never to return, which was something at least. He’d upped his subscription, buying several more sets of images and video from her in the weeks since, no doubt as a way of saying sorry.

  And frankly, as far as she was concerned, that was the very least he could do. She intended to fleece him for as much as she could get while being something of a bitch to him in the meantime.

  Screw him.

  A thud came from upstairs.

  Jess froze.

  She looked at the ceiling, her ears pricked up, straining to pick out any other sounds. Was it next door? They did bang on the wall occasionally.

  It just didn’t sound like it was… was it?

  It was probably nothing, and after a moment, the phone buzzed in her hand again.

  “I do that because you’re beautiful, you know that.”

  Jess rolled her eyes at his fawning comments and sighed, almost feeling sorry for him.

  “Thank you.” She typed, unable to bring herself to be mean or sarcastic again. “What are you doing tonight?”

  “Not a lot.”

  There was another thud.

  Jess’s heart leapt as she grabbed the remote and muted the TV.

  Half out of her seat, her body tense, she gazed at the ceiling again, as if she could somehow see through it. That had to be in the house. It had to be.

  Her phone buzzed.

  “Just thinking of you.” Wyndy’s message read.

  A shiver shot down her spine, and she closed the app. Getting to her feet, she turned to the TV and went to turn it off with the remote and then wondered if she was doing the right thing.

  If there was someone in the house, they’d know she’d heard them.

  “Shit,” she hissed to herself under her breath.

  Maybe she was imagining things? What were the chances of someone actually breaking into an upstairs window? Slim, surely, and yet there was a creeping kind of presence in the air, and she didn’t feel alone anymore.

  It was at moments like this that she wished sh
e had a dog.

  But, what should she do?

  Scenes from countless horror films flashed before her eyes. Images of the silly blonde girl who goes to investigate the strange noise alone, without any kind of weapon.

  She did not want to be that girl.

  Picking up her phone, she called Conrad. She hated when he was at work, and she was home alone. She earned enough for both of them to live on, so why did he feel the need to work as well?

  It was silly.

  But the call didn’t even connect, meaning his phone was off. She was about to hang up before the answerphone asked her to leave a message.

  She briefly considered not bothering before changing her mind.

  “Conrad. I’m err…” The house remained silent all around her. She’d not heard another creak or thud since the second one. “I’m probably being silly, but I just thought there might be someone in the house with me, and I got a little worried and… I don’t know. It’s probably nothing. I’ll see you when you’re back, okay?”

  She hung up and sighed, feeling a little calmer after leaving the message. For a moment, she briefly considered sitting back down and chalking the noises up to the neighbours, but there was still a little nagging worry that played at the corner of her mind.

  She called Lisa.

  “Hey Jess,” Lisa said, answering the phone quickly. “Sorry, I was about to reply…”

  “Lisa… I think… I think there’s someone in the house… maybe…”

  “Maybe?”

  “I heard bangs, like, thuds. I don’t know. It could be the neighbours. Maybe I’m hearing things.”

  “And maybe you’re not,” Lisa suggested, setting Jess’s heart racing again. “If you think there’s someone in there with you, then you need to get out. Don’t be silly, Jess. Don’t be an idiot.”

  “I… I know.”

  “Where are you?”

  “In my front room.”

  “Shut the door, at least. You could barricade it?”

  Jess glanced down at the sofa. “I… guess I could.”

  “So, you just heard two thuds, is that it?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And you’re sure they came from inside your house?”

  “I err… Maybe?”

  “Is there anyone you can call? Where’s Conrad?”

  “He’s at work, so his phone’s off.” Jess sighed.

  “Aaah. What about a neighbour? Can you ask one to come around?”

  “Um, yeah. If they’re in.”

  “It’s nearly midnight, Jess. They’ll be in.”

  “But, I might wake them up.”

  “And you might get killed tonight.”

  “Don’t say that.” Jess grimaced at the thought. “I bet it’s all in my imagination.”

  “And what if it isn’t, hmmm?” Lisa suggested. “I don’t want to see you on the news tomorrow.”

  Jess took a long deep breath and let it out slowly before walking towards the open lounge door. Taking a step into the hall with her phone still at her ear, she looked left, up the stairs.

  She couldn’t see or hear anything, and yet, there was something… Something was clawing at her mind.

  “Jess, what are you doing?”

  “I’m looking up the stairs.”

  “Do not go up there, you silly mare. Get out the house.”

  Jess nodded and backed towards the front door. She turned, realising she’d not looked in that direction and saw… just her front door.

  “I’m stepping out now,” she said and unlocked it, half expecting something to come shooting out of the shadows at the last moment and grab her.

  She opened the door and glanced back, with a crawling feeling up her spine.

  But the hallway was empty as she stepped out into the cold.

  The street outside was dark, lit by the bright glow of LED streetlamps. Cars passed by, the occasional pedestrian could be seen further up.

  Normal. Everything was unnervingly normal.

  “Are you outside?”

  “Yeah… It’s cold.”

  “But you’re safe.”

  “I guess.”

  “Go and knock on your neighbour's door.”

  “I can’t do that. They’ll think I’m crazy, or even more crazy than they already think I am.”

  “Who gives a shit? That doesn’t matter. What matters is making sure there’s no one in your house.”

  Jess sighed and looked back into her hallway. It was quiet and still.

  Normal.

  Warm.

  Inviting.

  She heard footsteps and turned to see a woman walk past on the street, giving her a strange look.

  Jess screwed her face up, realising she was standing outside in her jogger bottoms, vest top, and big fluffy Pokemon slippers. She looked a sight.

  “I might go back in. This is silly. It’s probably nothing.”

  “No, Jess. Don’t you dare.”

  “There’s no one in my house. It was probably just the house settling or a pipe popping.”

  “And if it’s not?”

  “I’ll get a knife, from the kitchen.”

  “Jess!”

  “I’ll call you back,” Jess said and ended the call. Turning back to her house, she paused on the threshold before steeling herself and walking back inside.

  Get a grip, Jess!

  She closed the door behind her and shivered the last of the cold air away as the warmth of the house wrapped around her, comforting her. Looking up the stairs again, she shook her head at her paranoia. There wasn’t anyone in the house, and the noises she’d heard, were most likely the neighbours or something.

  Taking a few steadying breaths, she walked into the kitchen and pulled the biggest knife she had out of the knife block on the countertop before walking back to the front room. Still, she saw nothing. She moved back into the living room and returned to her programme, with the knife on the chair arm beside her, just in case.

  Her phone buzzed repeatedly until she grabbed it, scanned through the string of messages from Lisa, and sent a quick reply to say all was fine. Her phone fell silent after that, allowing her to get comfortable and finally relax.

  Restarting the programme, she turned the volume down and watched the last twenty minutes as fatigue crept up on her.

  As the programme finished, she found herself drifting off to sleep and forced herself to get up. She wandered upstairs, only remembering the knife she’d left on the sofa once she was already half undressed.

  For a brief moment, she considered going to get it before telling herself to stop being silly and get to bed. Conrad would be back before she knew it, and all would be fine.

  Something caught her eye to her right.

  She turned, looked, and saw a figure in the darkness striding towards her bedroom. She couldn’t make out any details or see who it was in the shadows of her landing.

  Several thoughts crashed through her head in the space of a second. Was that her boyfriend? What was Conrad doing home this early? Why hadn’t she heard him come in? What was he doing? Was that Conrad? Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was someone else.

  Why was he carrying a knife?

  A moment later, she saw his face, and then the screaming started.

  2

  Sitting on the edge of his bed in the darkness of the early hours, Jon ended the call by tapping the icon on his mobile. The screen bathed him in a cool glow, making him squint before he turned his phone away.

  “We’ve been called in, right?”

  Jon sighed and turned to look over his shoulder at the woman in his bed. Kate raised her eyebrows to emphasise the question.

  “Aye, we have.”

  “Ugh, wonderful,” she said, and with a grunt, sat up. She yawned and ran her hand over her face and through her hair. “What time is it?”

  Jon checked the screen of his phone. “Four in the morning.”

  “Can’t they get anyone else?”

  “Apparently not, and this is in our
wheelhouse.”

  “Shit. It’s probably a bad one, then.”

  “I think so. A young woman’s been murdered.”

  “Fuck. It’s always women.”

  “Mmm,” Jon grunted, agreeing with her. It always was, and it was usually always men doing the killing, too. He sighed, exasperated by the familiar but grotesque pattern.

  “I’m going to jump in the shower. I’ll be out in five,” Kate said, jumping out of bed and grabbing her clothes.

  Jon gave his head a shake and focused on the job at hand. “I’ll get dressed and sort out some toast,” he called out.

  “Perfect,” she answered from the bathroom before shutting the door behind her. Seconds later, he heard the shower start.

  A selfish part of him wanted to wander in there and join her in the shower, but instead, he got up and got dressed. He was soon downstairs waiting beside the toaster as it slowly singed two slices of bread when he heard Kate exit the shower.

  Minutes later, she wandered into the kitchen, preceded by a waft of her deodorant that he briefly enjoyed while buttering the toast.

  Kate finished tying her hair up and grabbed the first slice. “Thanks.” She took a bite with a crunch.

  “Pleasure,” he replied and picked up his own as he pulled his keys out and jingled them at her. “Ready?”

  “I guess so. Let’s go fight some crime.”

  Jon laughed.

  “How Bruce Wayne stays up all night in those films, I’ll never know. I need my sleep. Clearly, he’s just weird.”

  “Yeah, it’s the sleeping during the day that makes him weird, not the dressing up as a six-foot-bat, thing.”

  She elbowed him. “Shut it, you. You can drive, by the way.”

  “Thank you so much,” Jon said as they walked out of the house.

  “You staying over certainly makes these early morning call-ins easier,” Jon remarked as they climbed into his car and pulled away.

  “Yeah, it’s nice, spending time at yours. My place is so small,” she lamented.

  “Your place is cute and very you.”

  “Thanks. I like your house better, though. Maybe I should move in?”

  “Huh?”