Little Boy Blue

72

Charlie hammered on the door, but still there was no response. She had followed Samantha up to the fourth floor, calling out her name. But she appeared not to hear and in any event she was too slow to stop her entering flat 15, slamming the door behind. By the time she made it there, the music had already started up. Deafening techno shook the walls of the building and no amount of knocking could raise its inhabitant. What was she doing there?

Charlie walked across to the landing window and looked down on to the street below. Having spent a good five minutes wearing the skin off her knuckles, she’d given up knocking and descended to the entrance once more. Just inside the main door, next to the fire regulations, was a number for the caretaker. He was clearly more used to dealing with leaking roofs and blocked toilets, but once Charlie impressed upon him the urgency of the situation, he had been happy to comply. So why was he taking so long to get here?

This was a calculated risk and Charlie knew it. Technically she should have waited for a warrant, but as long as her entry was not illegal, she would probably be fine. Samantha was only a tenant and the caretaker had the authority to open her door. Furthermore, she had failed to stop when requested to do so by a police officer… Charlie knew she was scrabbling a bit, but she would need to have her story off pat, should the need arise. Helen would see through it, but might let her off if the arrest proved decisive and something told Charlie she needed to get into that flat as fast as possible. Samantha could be doing anything in there. Destroying evidence, preparing to flee, perhaps even making an attempt on her life? What was the reason for the deafening music? What was she trying to hide?

The squeal of brakes snapped Charlie out of her thoughts. Moments later, she heard the front door open. Shaking hands with the agitated caretaker, she ushered him upstairs until they were once more outside flat 15. The caretaker seemed to hesitate – as if tacitly asking Charlie if she was sure she wanted to do this – but Charlie wasn’t in a mood to be put off.

‘Open it, please.’

He turned the key in the lock and the door slid open.

‘Do you want me to stay?’ he asked half hopefully.

‘You can wait outside. I’ll call you if I need you.’

Grumbling, he complied. As he traipsed down the steps, Charlie didn’t hesitate. Pulling her mobile from her pocket, she called base to request backup, then stepped confidently into the gloomy flat.