Page 36 of Between the Lies

For the next few minutes, they literally watched water boil – along with the ginger inside making the liquid murky. Once the water was all but bubbling over, Nina spooned the loose-leaf tea in and let it boil for another minute. Finally, she added in milk – just a splash – then used a strainer and poured two steaming mugs.

Robert had to admit, the aroma had his mouth watering. And with his first sip, the tea stung, pulling tears from his eyes, but oh God, God… who knew tea could taste so good?

‘Sugar?’ Nina held up a porcelain jar that he assumed held sugar.

Robert shook his head. ‘It’s, er, I’m, er— It’s nice.’

They took their tea and biscuits to the living room. Nina had forgone a dining table to make space for her desk, so she perched on the sofa and he sat on a chair opposite. She took a sip of the steaming tea and moaned – a sound that beckoned, for the thousandth time, to his dick.

He gulped a large sip of hot tea and hoped the sting would inhibit his arousal.

No such luck, not with Nina staring at him from under those long, luscious eyelashes.

She bit her lip. ‘I haven’t been interviewed before, not like this. It’s generally me who does the interviewing. So why are you here?’

Robert cradled the mug in his hands, studying her. The nerves hadn’t yet left her features, and yet she was behaving like she was in charge, that she was free and confident.

‘Why is Harish Shah after you?’

Nina raised an eyebrow. ‘Is that his full name?’

Robert leaned forward. ‘Nina, listen to me carefully. The sooner you give me answers, the better it will be.’

‘Better for you.’ Nina shook her head. ‘You aren’t letting me go after you find the answers, just like Shah won’t let me go after he gets what he wants.’

She had that right. If Robert let her go, she’d be in handcuffs with police officers leading her into custody. But Dickheadson or any other detective inspector wouldn’t take Robert seriously with no evidence. He needed that evidence and, preferably, a confession from Nina.

‘What does he want from you?’ Robert prodded.

Nina laughed, the sound stark against the silence in the room. ‘That’s a good question I’d love an answer to.’

Robert set the empty mug aside and reached for his notepad. When his hand connected with cloth instead of his neon vest, he pulled his hand away.

Too late. Nina noticed. ‘How long have you been on the bench?’

Long enough. Not that Dickheadson was complaining. The man had simply sanctioned more leave, and Robert had no urgency to get behind a desk or patrol mindlessly through Glasgow… or work under Dickheadson.

He clasped his hands together. ‘Well, he wouldn’t have come after you repeatedly for nothing. When was the first time you met the man?’

‘Why should I tell you?’

‘It’s personal for me, Nina. I need to know.’

She shook her head. ‘That’s not enough. The stakes for me are higher than that.’ Nina smacked her mug down on the coffee table. ‘And, frankly, I don’t think your lot can help me.’

By his lot, she had to mean the police. Robert knew they wouldn’t help, and not because they now probably had Shah in custody again and would believe she was no longer in danger, but because Nina was one of the thousands of cases sitting on their desks.

Robert hadn’t interviewed too many high-profile criminals either – as Dickheadson had suggested – still, he loved building connections with people, even those who hated the very sight of his uniform.

He wetted his lips. This would either help or massively backfire… ‘I lost my wife in the fire that destroyed Shah’s nightclub.’

‘Shah’s nightclub?’ She whispered it, as if putting the pieces together. Then she realised where exactly he was going. ‘I’m sorry, what nightclub?’

Robert looked Nina directly in the eyes and said, ‘The nightclub that caught fire at Walls Street. I’m sure you remember that dilapidated building – it’s where we first met, after all. And I heard you were there that night… that you set the fire yourself.’

CHAPTERSEVENTEEN

‘Fi-Fire?’

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