Tuesday, 14 March 2017

The White Astra Part 1

For audio click here 

Lacey clocked the white Astra straight away. Two people passing the time by sitting in a car on the road outside his flat; nothing suspicious in that at all. Lacey was tempted to give them a wave but why ruin the fun? He got his keys out and went into the flat, picked up two days’ worth of post from the floor then put the letters and the pint of milk on the kitchen counter. A good cup of tea would go down a treat. 
“You’re so vain,” Lacey sang, “I bet you think this stake out's about you.” He wondered if they could hear him. Had they been in the flat whilst he was in custody. He knew his phone was bugged but had they wired the flat too? He looked around for evidence that someone had been in but these guys were good and Lacey was so messy that he couldn't tell if it was his mess or theirs. He dropped the tea bag in the bin and wandered over to the window, cupping the mug in his hands and watching his watchers. A man passed a cardboard tray of Starbucks coffee cups through the car window and then climbed into the back seat to join his two colleagues. 
“Starbucks is a long way away. They'll be cold by now.” Lacey said, slurping his own hot drink and smacking his lips.  He saw the three figures look up at him; that answered that question then. He moved away from the window and sat on the sofa. He could still smell the stench of a holding cell on his clothes and hear the voice of the inspector getting more and more frustrated. He closed his eyes.
They had nothing, but they had everything. 
They knew who he was, what he thought and who he associated with, but so far, they hadn’t found anything that they could arrest him for because no matter how much it was discouraged, thinking wasn't a crime. 
Lacey yawned, he’d have loved a little snooze but two days in a police cell didn't help with deadlines. He drained his tea and moved over to the typewriter. He started plucking at the keys and then stopped and tipped his head backward. He stood up. He’d had a thought, was there a camera in her as well?  Where do you hide a camera? Lacey checked the ceiling and looked around the walls. He looked behind the clock, in the lamp, at the doorknob. There was nothing. This constant paranoia was making him paranoid. He went back to the typewriter and composed himself. 
Clack, clack, clack, his fingers were still not used to the stiff keys, but there was something nice about using the old beast. Clack, clack, clack, it slowed him down, gave him time to think. Clack clack, ping. 
He finished his article and wound it out of the typewriter and then wound a shopping list in in its place. He carefully slid the finished piece between the third and fourth floorboard, where it would stay until the meeting. The knock on the door made him jump. 
“Open the door, Lacey!” He recognised the inspector’s voice. “We’ve got you this time,” the inspector said, barging into the flat. One of the watchers cuffed Lacey while the inspector set about prising the third floorboard loose. “Bingo,” he said.
Lacey’s face didn’t move. He waited while the inspector read the note, a frown appearing on the policeman’s face as he did so. 
“Damn you, Lacey. Let him go,” the policeman said, crumpling up the paper and stomping out of the apartment. 
For part two click here

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