Hidden Steel E-Book

Stuart Field

• Herausgeber: Next Chapter
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

In the UK, Detective John Steel is investigating the organization who killed his family. When he comes across information that something big is going to happen on the cruise ship Neptune, Steel goes undercover. He has fourteen days to figure out what is going to happen - and to stop it.

In New York, Steel's NYPD partner, Detective Samantha McCall, is investigating a series of deaths. All seems run of the mill for the homicide detective until they find out that the deaths are somehow connected to the cruise ship Steel is on.

McCall is convinced there is a mole in the department, but can she figure out who he is - and who he's working for? Meanwhile, Steel is running out of options... and the clock is ticking.

Leseprobe

HIDDEN STEEL

BOOK 2 IN THE JOHN STEEL THRILLERS SERIES

STUART FIELD

CONTENTS

Acknowledgments

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

Chapter 60

Chapter 61

Chapter 62

Chapter 63

Chapter 64

Next in the Series

About the Author

Copyright (C) 2019 Stuart Field

Layout design and Copyright (C) 2021 by Next Chapter

Published 2021 by Next Chapter

Edited by Marilyn Wagner

Cover art by CoverMint

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the author's permission.

Dedicated to

The fine men and women of Law enforcement, the military, and emergency services.

Who do so much but receive little reward.

But are ready to pay the price with little regard for their own safety.

We thank you.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I want to thank Next Chapter for giving me this chance.

I would also like to thank my fantastic wife and my brilliant daughter for believing in me and pushing me on.

Thank you to my brother and sister for just being part of my life.

Thank you to Sarah, Dick, Candy, Tina, for your support.

PROLOGUE

A colossal blood moon hung in the midnight sky and shone as brightly as a winter’s early morning sun. Below, the ocean reflected the Luna giant causing each wave to sparkle, like the lights of a big city. There was a whoosh of spray, and a mighty steel leviathan cut through the tranquil waters. A cruise ship of immense size – a city of the ocean, cruised by, its destination set, but it ran silent and dark, no music or signs of life. Aboard, it was as still and as dark as the grave.

Below, in the bowls of the floating city, a group of passengers stood huddled together in fear in the darkened depths of the ship. Sparks flew down from broken power cables like bright orange raindrops. Intermittent flashes from bursts of electricity lit up the darkened lower sections and the faces of the scared passengers. Their wide-unblinking eyes were glued to the electronic counter as it flickered with every change of the countdown. A man knelt in front of them. Even though he was dressed all in black, his broad-shouldered back was made visible by the emergency lighting above the doorway and the internment flash of blue light from the broken power cables. The man as he used his hands to search for a way to switch off the timer, in case there was another way other to switch off the device.

“Can you stop it?” Asked a tall blonde woman. The man remained silent, lost in his task, the rest of the world was oblivious to him, as though he were the only one in the room.

“Hey, the lady asked you a question,” barked a large American, but the man knew it wasn't personal, the American was scared but acting bravely, mostly for the sake of the ladies – or himself.

“Please, Mr Black – can you stop it?” The women asked again, the man they all knew as Mr Black stood up and walked towards them. Mr Black was tall, and his rugged features seemed more handsome as the flashes of light illuminated one side of his chiselled face. He wore all black, and he wore it well.

“I need the code, but we have time” he lied – hoping it would reassure the people. He turned and looked at the timer that read 04:45:36. “I have to find the actual device and hope to stop it from there.” He turned and started to walk away but stopped. He half turned towards them and waited for a moment, as if pondering his next move. “Oh, and by the way, the name isn’t Black its Steel, Detective John Steel.” There was a large burst of sparks from the cables, making them shield their eyes. As they looked back to where Steel had stood, they saw only the empty passageway.

ONE

FOURTEEN DAYS EARLIER.

The rain came down heavy and hard, with raindrops the size of peas hammering against every surface, making dull thuds with each impact. The streets became like lakes, drains bubbled, and fountains of water spewed from the draining systems, as they were unable to cope with the watery onslaught. The sky above the Southampton port loomed with grey mountainous clouds that crackled and flashed as a storm brewed within. It had been several weeks since John Steel had arrived back home in Britain. The trip he had considered to have been most productive and fruitful in many ways. He had spent some time at the office of the company his family had founded some many years ago, to speak with the chairman of the board, to ensure everything was running smoothly, but mostly to make sure he wasn’t needed to be there. Steel wasn’t a businessman, that had been his father’s domain. Steel was a soldier – a detective, not someone who was meant for a desk job.

He stood in the departure lounge and gazed out through the waterfall that was cascading down the thick glass of the waiting lounge window. A huge plate-glass screen was as big as the wall itself. He watched the ships in the harbour as they were rocked about like toy boats in a bathtub. There was a flash of lightning that lit up the sky, followed instantly by a crack of thunder. As the light show faded, the outside grew darker once more, and John Steel caught a glimpse of his reflection. He's tall broad-shouldered frame was clad in a black suit, a black shirt and maroon tie. A pair of mask-like sunglasses hugged the contours of his rugged good looks. John Steel looked like a million bucks, though, he was going for the two million look. The joys of undercover.

As he lifted the cup to his lips, his face winced at the smell and taste of the strong brew. He smiled as thoughts of the Homicide Department back in New York came flooding back to him. A couple of weeks before, Steel was attached to the NYPD on a case. It had been a triple homicide, which had been masking a massive arms deal, set up by a criminal organisation. It was meant to be for just for one case, but he had the feeling things were not over - not yet, so he would remain there for a little while longer. Besides, he was having too much fun getting under their skin, especially the lead detective – Detective Samantha McCall.

The lounge was full of families, tour groups, and people who just had to get away from it all. He did not fit into any of those categories. They were there for relaxation; he was there for answers. As he looked around at the happy couples who were laughing, and the children were running about with excitement. Everything seemed to slow down. His mind drifted to images of his wife. The memories rolled like an old film, real into his mind: her smile, her beautiful face. The locations appeared blurred in the background, but it didn't matter. As he watched memories unfold, the image was of his wife laughing and smiling, and they were running on a beach somewhere, their time together reeling off like he was watching a home movie in his mind. The image changed, she lying in their bed and rolling over to face him, she smiled as he touched her face, his heart froze as the image distorted, and her eyes became cold and empty. Steel went to cry out her name, but a sensation stopped him, something was yanking at his leg. Reality crashed through the daymare like a brick through a windowpane. Steel looked down with a startled and confused look on his face at first, but a warming smile replaced it. A little girl, who was no more than six years old, was tugging on his trouser leg, with not much force, but enough to get Steel’s attention. The girl had a look of that tender innocence and inquisitiveness most have at that age. For some sweet and amusing, and others found it annoying after a while.

“Hey Mr, why are you so sad, are you scared of boats?” she asked, in a squeaky voice. Her rosy cheeks masked her freckled face, and her mousey-coloured hair was tied up into pigtails held together by bright pink hairbands with bobbles that looked like fat ladybirds. As Steel smiled at her, he looked up in time to see a woman rushing towards them; she knelt and grabbed her daughter, embarrassed at her daughter's intrusion.

She was tall, blonde and beautiful. A black dress hugged her body, revealing every fake curve she had – but she made both work well for her.

“I am so sorry; I hope she didn’t disturb you?” Her voice was soft, with a hint of an East London accent.

“Not at all.” Steel replied, smiling back at the woman. Steel noticed her ring finger had a white band, which indicated a divorce and, judging by the whiteness of the band, a recent one at that. Steel smiled and thought if she was on this cruise, the whole thing must have ended with her on top.

“It’s fine; really, I was just daydreaming, that’s all.” Steel said, readjusting his sunglasses. Eyewear that he had found to be perfect to look at people without them noticing him, as well as having other unique benefits. As Steel gave the woman and the rest of the room a once over, as he did, he caught her gaze. A full, wide-eyed look, like the cat who was staring at the fishbowl look. It was obvious she liked what she saw – especially the lack of jewellery on the wedding finger, or the hint that there had been any for that matter. As she stood from the kneeling position by her daughter's side, the woman straightened out her dress, ensuring to push out her chest and flicked her long blonde locks.

“Are you travelling alone Mr…?” She reached out a hand to start the formal introductions and inenviable friendly interrogation. Steel smiled and, taking her hand, laid a gentle kiss on the knuckles of her trembling hand.

“Black, Antony Black, and yes I am travelling alone, a bit of a business trip mixed with pleasure,” he smiled; as he watched the woman became flushed, “And you are…?” The woman slapped back to reality by her daughter pulling at her mother’s dress and giggling.

“What – sorry, I am Miss Wade, but you can call me Julie and this little madam is Trish.” She dug her fingers into the top of the child’s shoulders, causing her to giggle and struggle out of the tickle grip.

“Would all passengers please make their way to the promenade ready for boarding, thank you,” came a voice over the Tannoy. A tall, thin, grey-haired steward placed back the handset and stood next to his female colleague as the preparation for the mass of people began.

“I hope we run into each other again, Mr Black” Steel smiled, broadly.

“Oh, something tells me that will be inevitable,” he bowed slightly with his right hand over his chest. “Madam” Trish giggled and returned the bow, “Madam” Julie smiled, and her tanned cheeks blushed as she made for the desk, entirely dazzled by the display.

Steel stood back and watched in wonderment at the cascade of people pushing through the reception in an almost manic need to be first, and he knew it would be the same for disembarkation, the same people would be first off, and he smiled to himself and shook his head as he finished his coffee.

As John Steel made his way outside and towards one of the three gantries, he caught the full view of the massive floating city, the whole walkway had been covered by what appeared to be a long marquee to ensure the seven thousand five hundred passengers wouldn’t get wet before they started.

The massive wonder held twenty-three decks and lay 3,800 ft long; the floating colossus was a remarkable sight; its white gloss walls gave way to the glass balconies of the apartments and the yellow lifeboats housed below the living quarters. As Steel entered the vessel, he saw a long-carpeted corridor which then opened out to the main floor. Large open brass-coloured elevators with seating carried the passengers to the upper floors, as well as grand staircases that led to the next deck. There were potted plants, a fountain in the centre of the room which held a large bronze statue of the ocean god himself. Steel took the stairwell – choosing to take in the breath-taking view of the open-plan floors. Reaching the next level, he noticed it opened out into a massive auditorium. Red and gold marble tiles lined the floors while grand stone pillars held up the next floor, which gave it a grand appearance – with its maroon wallpapered walls and paintings in gold frames. Chesterfield furnishings were arranged in groups across the marble floor. Steel was impressed at its mixture of old grand and modern, bright lights and entertainment. The white marble information desk, crowned with brass fittings that curved around the sides, and a polished oak top was placed against the right-hand wall.

The ceiling rose up to around eight feet, the room itself had an abundance of touch screen information boards, large potted plants, and palm trees. Steel looked at the information pack he had received at check-in, which was more like a flight check-in than that of a cruise.

He was in one of the suites on deck seventeen; he stood for a moment to get his bearings. Steel watched the masses rush here and there, as though the whole ship was about to close in five minutes. He chuckled to himself at the fact that these people had fourteen days to explore but felt the need to see everything now.

“Can I help you, Sir?” Asked a steward in a white uniform. Steel turned and showed his key card, displaying his room number. “You’re on deck seventeen Mr – Black; elevators are just over there.” Steel thanked the man and made his way through the chaos towards the safety of the glass elevator. As Steel headed passed a brass post, he caught the reflection behind him, the steward was on his cell and watching Steel as he headed away. He thought nothing of it and just put it down to his soldier paranoia.

Standing in front of his door, he drew out the key card and slipped it into the slot, a green LED flicked on, and a click signalled he could enter. The room was large with a king-sized bed and furnishings fit for a five-star hotel, at the far end of the room, a blaze of sunshine showed the sliding glass doors to his balcony. Throwing his suitcase onto the bed, he approached the two sliding doors and pushed the blue and white curtains to the side. Outside looked cold and miserable but the warm climate inside made it feel very much snugger. He turned and crashed onto the bed; he bounced slightly, meaning it was a good mattress – for him anyway. The bed was comfortable and inviting possibly too inviting. He shot up off the bed, “No” he thought, “I got to unpack.” He opened the suitcase and blew out a large breath to wake himself, “First unpack, and then check out the ship.”

John Steel awoke with a start. There was a blast from the horn of the ship, followed by another as the ships bid its farewell to the port. Steel scowled, annoyed at the interruption to his nap.

“Cheers for that you bastards,” he yelled, as though anyone could hear him, he looked at his watch – it was half-past two in the afternoon, he’d only been asleep for half an hour, but it had been a nice half-hour. Sliding himself off the bed, he silently cursed himself for giving in to the comfort of the mattress, but as he finally unpacked, he gave a self-indulging smile.

At Herbert Walker Avenue, two large, long buildings lay next to the River Test. Their white walls housed the arrival and departures of the large cruise liners. Surrounding the buildings were a series of long-stay car parks and container storage for the large cargo ships. The clouds above gave a menacing bon voyage to the floating city with crackles, low rumbles of the electrical storm within.

With a roar of power, a blacked-out Land Rover raced into the parking lot next to the cruise terminal and, with a screech, came to a halt, the vehicle was parked side on to the water. Slowly the back window wound down, the sound of electrical gears assisting its decent. A pair of binoculars crept out and scanned the vessel, only the sound of the hum from the engine, and the raindrops impacting with the metal of the vehicle, broke the silence of the moment. As the ship pulled away down the river towards the mouth of the ocean, the car remained until it was no longer visible by naked eye or binoculars. As the massive ship became a dot on the landscape, the window wound up, and with a spit of gravel, the car sped away.

TWO

Detective Samantha McCall sat at her desk in the Homicide Department of the NYPD. Even though she was tired from a full day of investigating a homicide downtown, her youthful good looks held fast. McCall gently brushed the hair of her fringe away from her eyes as she proofread an arrest report she’d just finished typing. Her blue eyes scanned the document; satisfied the content was accurate; she filed it. Picking up her coffee mug, she sat back in her chair and took a mouthful of the dark liquid. Her eyes wandered to the empty chair next to her desk and stared at the void. Detective Joshua Tooms spotted her powerful gaze upon the chair.

“You miss him, don’t you? Go on admit it.” he said, his voice deep and gravelly, like a brown bear would sound if it could talk. McCall looked up at him, still holding the same open-eyed expression, then McCall blinked.

“No, I am trying to move the chair with my mind, jackass” McCall shot him a fake grin, which suddenly soured. “But if you ever tell him I’ll hurt you,” she said, with a friendly growl.

“Yes, of course, OBI-WAN,” Tooms said, backing off with his hands up, wearing a playful grin. McCall scowled back at him as he sat down in the chair. Tooms’s large frame hunched over the desk as he started to check his cell for messages. The phone seemed small in his large black hands. The guy had the frame of a quarterback and the haircut of a Marine.

“So, no word from our boy, huh?” Tooms asked, taking note of her gaze at the empty chair. McCall shook her head with a worried look on her face.

“Don’t fret girl, he’s probably been busy bustin' some bad guys over there and shooting everything” she smiled. “Or on a beach somewhere with some supermodels or something,” Tooms added - chancing a glance out of the corner of his eye and smiling as he saw her murderous look.

“Ok, are we done for the night? I am beat, and if I don’t make it home on time, I am a dead man walkin',” Tooms said, standing up and placing his cell away into a jacket pocket. McCall shook her head, suddenly confused for a moment, then a look of clarity shone through.

“Oh god your anniversary, go, man, go, and give her my best,” McCall said, shooing him out with a guilty smile. Picking up the file, McCall headed towards Detective Antony Marinelli, who sat at his desk, looking uncomfortable.

“Thought you would be heading out too?” She asked, somewhat confused until she saw the napkin on his desk. It was from a diner. As well as having the diner owner’s monogram; it held a phone number scribbled in blue ink and what appeared to be red lipstick in the shape of a pair of luscious lips. Smiling, McCall sat on the edge of his desk and looked down at him, looking back at her. Tony smiled and held up the napkin.

“Did you call her?” McCall asked, with a searching look. Tony looked scared but forced a smile.

“Not yet,” he replied, feeling like a school kid again. McCall laughed and picked up the receiver of the phone.

“Call her – hey what’s the worst thing that could happen, right?” Taking the receiver in his hand, he froze for a moment. McCall laughed aloud, making Tony give her a hurt look.

“My god Tony, you chase down murderers, you’ve taken on drug gangs when you were a NARC and done several tours in Iraq, but in the face of a pretty girl, you crumble. Sad, but sweet.” Tony laughed, knowing she was right.

“Call the girl, make a date, then get out of here,” McCall said, as she winked at him and left him to talk. As she sat at her desk, McCall put down her coffee mug after taking several large mouthfuls; then turned her attention to her e-mails. There was a weird silence that made McCall look up and around the room. The bullpen was nearly empty, she sat back and blew out some air from her pursed lips. Her cell vibrated to life, the blue glow from the display showed that it was Steel calling. At first, she was reluctant to answer as he had not called or written for weeks. Hesitantly, she picked it up and answered.

“Steel wow, long time, how’s it going?” McCall said, trying to cover the bitterness of her tone. Steel could make out the cover of her voice, and he felt terrible, but she would understand.

“Hi McCall, sorry I haven’t been in touch or anything…” Steel started, still feeling he had left it too late to call.

“No, it's fine, you have been busy, I get it,” her voice wobbled, and he noticed it, but he did not have time.

“Look something has come up and well….” He hated to ask, but this was important. “Can you check something for me?” She looked at the cell phone, stunned; she wanted to smash the phone to pieces, but just hearing his voice again gave her a warm feeling.

“Yeah sure, what is it?” She felt a lump in her throat swell, but she fought back the emotion. “Can you check on a company called Callan Industries,” she jotted it down on a post-it and stuck it to her monitor. McCall heard a loud horn blare in the background.

“Steel, where are you anyway?” she asked, with a curious tone ringing in her voice.

“Uhm – I’m on a cruise ship at the moment,” his voice sounded awkward and somewhat embarrassed at admitting to his location, knowing she would get the wrong idea.

“Wait – you’re on a cruise, and you want me to look something up, are you friggin' kiddin' me?” She was stunned and angry at the same time.

“McCall – Sam it’s important, I hate to ask, but you know I wouldn’t if I didn’t have too.” The line went dead, McCall had hung up or shot her phone, he couldn’t be sure. Either way, he knew she was pissed. McCall threw the cell across the desk and screamed to herself.

“Wow, that must have been Steel; how is he?” The sudden voice from behind her made McCall jump. McCall spun around slowly in her chair to see Doctor Tina Franks standing there, her arms crossed and looking like she was on the way to a party.

“No word for weeks then he calls to get me to check on something, do you believe the balls on the guy?” McCall growled through her teeth.

“I’d love too, and I really think you’d love too as well, but for now, get your jacket “WE” are going out, and “WE” are going to have some fun.” McCall gave Tina an I can’t really look. But Tina grabbed McCall’s coat and held it out for her to put on. “Come on, get your sexy ass outta that chair,” Tina ordered.

“On the menu tonight my girl is fun, fun, fun,” Tina said with a purr in her voice and a wicked smile. Reluctantly, McCall stood and put on her coat like a six-year-old going to the dentist. “Come on, Sammy, smile; it will be fun…you remember fun, don’t you?”

McCall could remember fun, and it was running around on a case with John Steel.

THREE

The cruise ship cut through the waves, it’s massive bulk unaffected by the chop of the sea. The view of the dock was long gone, and they were underway to the next port on the list. After finally unpacking his suitcase, Steel decided to take a walk and try to get acquainted with the layout of the vessel. Something was going to happen, and this ship or someone on it had something to do with it. Deck 8 was a massive expanse of shops, bars, coffee shops all lined up with white tiled floors and neon window signs. There was a central reservation with seating and palm trees and plants, which gave the whole place a feel of being in a big city, rather than being on a ship. Passengers rushed about, taking in the sights, excited at their new surroundings. Steel looked around, in awe of the ship’s interior and size. He wandered around a little longer before his mouth became dry – he needed something to drink. Steel smiled to himself. Next to a gift shop was an Irish Pub, with old-style seats and tables outside the entrance and alongside the wall and window. Steel chose a seat next to the window, he had a full range view of the area, and his back was to the wall.

After a short time, a waitress came to take his order. She was short and petite. Her long black hair was tied up into a ponytail which bounced as she walked. She had a round face that sported a large mouth with a red lipstick smile. As she spoke, she gave a broad smile, causing her to squint – hiding her beautiful large brown eyes. Steel ordered a large Balvenie and a beer – feeling the need to blend in was excuse enough to start drinking so early in the day. He watched the people and wondered how he was going to find a target in all of this, he had over seven thousand suspects – and that was just the passengers. Plus, he didn’t know what they were suspected of doing? Hell, he did not even know what he was doing there, one thing was sure, if it were nothing, Steel knew the others wouldn’t let him hear the last of it when he got back to the precinct.

Steel’s mind drifted back to the meeting with Darius Johnson at Battersea Park in London. Darius was an old friend of the family. Steel’s father had given Darius a job after he’d left the army, back in the seventies. The man was in his late fifties, an average-sized Jamaican, but he had the strength of an ox, he was strangely handsome with his short hair that had flexes of grey and a trimmed beard that made him look more like a professor. Darius often dressed in loud shirts and baggy jeans which seemed to be two sizes too big for him.

The two men sat at one of the chess tables that were set up, so the public to come and enjoy a quick game. Of course, the half-empty bottle of wine between them told many that the two men had been there awhile.

“Looks like I beat you again Jonny,” the man said, as he moved his queen into the checkmate position. He grinned with pleasure as he knocked over Steel’s King. “You must learn to concentrate my boy,” his accent was heavy with a Caribbean tone. Steel just smiled and sat back in his chair.

“Concentrate, with that shirt?” Steel laughed. Darius looked down at his shirt and pulled the bottom forwards, the multi-patterned shirt screamed with colour.

“What’s wrong with my shirt? Your problem is you have no style.” They both laughed.

“It’s good to see you again, old friend,” Steel’s voice sounded calm and refreshed, Darius returned the smile.

“So, what brings you home, last I heard you were a Detective in New York,” Darius said, with a curious wink.

“I still am, Homicide Department” Steel replied, picking up the small bottle of mineral water and taking a quick mouthful. Darius’s eyes widened and gave a carp-mouthed nod.

“Homicide, well, well. Funny, I remember you used to make the bodies, and ironically you now detect them, “Darius laughed and took a sip from the plastic wine glass. “And what about THEM?” Darius’s voice sounded bitter, and his expression was sour.

“I get to hear a lot about THEM, don’t worry,” Steel replied, as he took another hit from the bottle. Darius nodded as he reset the board.

“You always did make the strangest moves for the right reasons; I can’t believe you suck at chess,” Darius laughed.

“Too many rules, if you change the rules it confuses your opponent,” Steel shrugged with a broken smile. Darius nodded in agreement.

“Ok, so what rules are you bending now?” He could feel Steel’s eyes on him. Steel was silent at first as he moved his pawn into the middle of the board.

“Leads in New York have gone silent, so I thought I would try back here,” Steel replied. Darius’s eyes looked up without moving his head.

“Uh-huh, you know something, like I say, you don’t just do things without reason, so what or who are you after?” Steel smiled, and leant back in his chair and breathed in the fresh air.

“God, I miss this sometimes,” he looked around at the people as they went about their day to day, enjoying the morning sun.

“London, Britain or suckin' at chess?” Darius laughed. Steel just gave him the finger as he readjusted his sunglasses at the nose bridge.

“A woman named Teresa Benning,” Steel said, leaning back after moving a pawn. Darius thought for a moment, then shook his head.

“No, don’t know that one,” Darius admitted, with a shake of his head. Steel smiled, which made Darius feel very nervous, very quickly.

“What?” Darius asked, looking up from the board and sitting back in his chair. A look of mistrust covered his face.

“Don’t worry; I know roughly where she is,” Steel laughed. Darius gave Steel an uneasy look.

“Cool, where is she?” He followed Steel’s gaze to a woman playing on one of the other tables. She was pretty, with long red hair, large blue eyes, and a set of full pouting lips.

“So, what do you need me to do?” Darius asked, suddenly figuring out that him being here was no coincidence.

“Nothing much, just you know talk to her, keep her busy for a while,” Steel said, with a slight shrug of his shoulders. Darius chanced another look over his shoulder at the redhead.

“And you will be…?” Darius turned around to find an empty chair where Steel had been sitting.

“Man, I hate it when he does that,” Darius growled as he grabbed his drink and stood up.

Her apartment was a minute’s walk away from the park, the place itself was set above a small grocery store, the entrance was a red door at the side of the store, through which a staircase led upwards to the apartment above. As Steel approached the front door of the apartment, he checked for signs of cameras or alarms but only found graffiti and spiders webs. Picking the lock took seconds as the bump key found its mark, and with a click, he was inside.

Pulling the door slightly ajar, Steel took out a dentist’s mirror and scanned for an alarm. He almost seemed disappointed at how easy this was, Steel thought for a moment the information he’d acquired was false, but he had to check it out nevertheless. The flat was homely and tidy with potted plants in nearly every room. The long corridor ended with the kitchen at one end and the sitting room at the other; in the middle of the wooden-floored hallway lay the doors to the bedroom and a bathroom. The walls of the corridor had been painted terracotta, and the ceiling was white with Victorian-style edgings, the doors to each room were glossed white as were the skirting on the floor – giving the effect that the room was longer than what it was. He started in the kitchen - this had a brown marble effect vinyl floor, the surrounding pinewood cupboards, and work surfaces stood out from the white walls. Steel carefully looked through draws and paid particular attention to the photographs and postcards magnetically pinned to the refrigerator door. The cards had been sent from various locations – and all from a couple named “Stewart.” Steel took one last look then proceeded to the bathroom, the white-tiled room gave nothing up, and with a shrug, he entered the bedroom. The pink coloured walls clashed with the brass bed and the white furnishings, her clothes hung arranged in almost military fashion, Steel smiled at the thought of the phrase knowing most military people were not the tidiest of people. He started to have a bad feeling as he left the bedroom and entered the sitting room – so far, he had found nothing.

As he looked around, Steel noticed that the apartment had been correctly set out, maybe too perfect. The sitting room was long, with a large window at the opposite side of the room to the door. A fireplace with a dark wood surround was situated in the middle of the left wall – the flooring was the same as the hallway, and so was the paintwork. In the middle of the floor, facing the fireplace, was a black, cloth couch, and near the window on the right wall, there was a computer desk, proudly. Steel took his time looking at the room as he made his way to the desk; he did not want to miss anything. Sitting in the swivel chair, he turned on the computer; he knew that the computer would be password protected. Steel smiled, true enough the screen asking for the password. Steel began to search through draws at the desk for a clue to the password. Soon he found her passport – typing in her date of birth, he pressed the ENTER key, but only got a resounding “Ding” for failure. Then he remembered on the refrigerator she had put up many types of post-it as a reminder for her, regarding shopping items and who had called. He smiled.

“Could she be that obvious?” Steel thought. He tilted the keyboard, and a disappointed look came over him. There at the underside was a piece small piece of paper sellotaped with the words UNITY1. Steel frowned and typed in the code, the screen opened. Steel looked at his watch, he knew that Darius wouldn’t be able to stall her forever, he had to hurry. Her folders drew a blank, so Steel went for emails, she had several spams from weight loss companies, dating agencies the standard stuff that clogs up the inbox, but then he saw several letters from “The Stewarts,” he clicked on to the latest one, his eyes widened.

“Dear Teresa,

Hope you are well and everything is going well at work.

We have found the perfect trip. Also, Daddy says that NEPTUNE is good as gold.

Don’t forget to pick up the goods and speak to Callan reference the industrial cleaner.

All the best,

The Stewarts"

He closed down the computer and stepped back to think. Steel had an uneasy feeling.

“What the hell is Neptune?” His words faded into a whisper, he had to go and find Darius, he was a wealth of information, and his memory was almost computer-like. Darius remembered every fact he came in contact with; if anyone would know – it was him.

Darius sat outside a local pub, sipping tea. The pub was just around the corner from her apartment – meaning it was possibly her local watering hole, not that Darius was interested, his mind was on other things.

“Damn it, Jonny, where the hell are you?” Darius said, studying his watch. He had waited nearly ten minutes after she had left him at that very pub. They had played chess and talked until she noticed the time, then insisted she had to go to work. Darius had walked her this far before she kissed him on the cheek for his gallantry and left. Darius looked behind him to see if Steel was approaching from the street behind. No luck, he cursed under his breath, thinking the worst. Images of her coming home and finding him there flooded into his head, but Darius knew Steel was too slick for that. He shook the thought from his head and turned back round to take another sip of the tea.

“Jesus” he cried out at the sight of Steel sitting in the chair opposite. Darius’s yelp had caught the attention of a plump barmaid, and she made her way over. She had a cute smile, her black hair matched the colour of her skirt and waistcoat of her uniform, her white blouse straining to hold her large breasts, and her black stockings stretched over her large short legs.

“What can I get you, gents?” She asked, chewing gum as she spoke, Steel looked up at her and smiled, her face was round but pretty.

“Just a coffee, for now, thank you,” Steel replied, with a winning smile. She blushed and returned the smile.

“Man, what it is with you and women?” Darius groaned, and shook his head. Steel sat back and looked innocent.

“OK, Casanova what did you find at her place?” Darius took another sip after blowing on the fresh brew.

“Don’t know, there was something to do with NEPTUNE, I found an email from a friend named

“The Stewarts" but that was certainly a cover for something” he shrugged, and picked up the menu card.

“Have you heard of anything called NEPTUNE on your travels or someone called Callan who might be linked to the organisation?” Steel asked, as he checked out the steak and ale pie on the menu. Darius shook his head.

“Neptune, mmm,” Darius said, stroking his beard. “Other than the Roman god and several ships and spacecraft, what can I say?” Darius said, taking out a pipe from his pocket and filling it with tobacco from a pouch.

“As for Callan, that could be CALLAN Industries?” Darius, said lighting up his pipe.

“What do they do?” Steel asked, curiously.

“Mostly bio tech and shit, weapons for the government, or anyone with the right cash,” Darius laughed. Steel knew that asking him about Neptune was a long shot, but he had to try. Steel’s gaze fell on the table opposite theirs, and to a man reading the daily paper. As the man lifted it to put the pages back to their original fold, Steel caught a glimpse at the front page.

He waited until the man left, leaving the tabloid on the table, Steel shot up to grab it before anyone else had a chance. Steel held the paper up, hiding his face.

“Hey man, do you want to share with the rest of the class?” Darius barked impatiently, knowing his friend had found something. Steel folded the paper down; Darius saw the huge grin of satisfaction on Steel’s face.

“What you won the lotto, not that you need the money?” Darius smiled. Steel turned the paper round, so the front page was in full view. The new ship launched read the headlines, New flagship of the ocean travel group launched today, THE NEPTUNE is the largest passenger ship ever built at 3,800 feet long and able to hold over 7,500 passengers. Darius’s mouth fell open.

“Do you think that…?” Darius went to ask, then saw Steel nodding wildly with a childish grin.

The barmaid brought Steel his coffee; he smiled up at her and thanked her.

“Well my friend, I think I better ready for a trip,” Steel said, taking a sip from his black coffee. Darius sat back and put his cup down.

“You got a feeling about this boat?” Darius asked, with a curious look on his face. Steel nodded and sipped his coffee. “Well, I hope the fuckers have got insurance?” Darius laughed.

FOUR

Steel snapped back to reality as a Tannoy message announced they were about to enter international waters. Steel looked around – seeing what had changed since his daydreaming had interrupted his observations. To his left sat two elderly gentlemen, playing chess, Steel smiled and headed off towards one of the restaurants. Finding a spot in the corner of the room by the long glass window, he settled himself, picking up the menu card he perused its contents, but studied the outside world with more interest. There were over nine thousand people on the ship or, to be more precise, over nine thousand needles in one hell of a big haystack. Steel needed something, anything that would give a clue as to what he was doing on the ship. He didn’t have a plan as such; he never did – plans go wrong, but sometimes they help. There had been a reason this ship was so important but for why? Whatever the reason, he had to find it and fast. A smiling Asian woman came over and took his order.

“Just a coffee thanks”, Steel could feel her eyes on him. She was attractive with long black hair that had been pinned up to hold at the back; she had a slim figure and curves in the right places.

“Maybe something later then, sir?” Her voice was sultry.

“Yes, maybe later,” his reply was equally apparent as her question, as she turned and walked away. Steel smiled to himself, thinking about Darius’s remarks about him and women.

The restaurant was half-empty, except for families with screaming children - too excited to eat or take a nap, couples who looked happy to be away from their everyday life. Outside the restaurant, people moved about slowly – almost without purpose, the excitement of being on the ship had finally subsided, and they had come to realise there was no place to rush too. Steel looked over at the doorway just as a couple entered the restaurant. The woman was mid-twenties with only her man’s cash in mind. Her long legs put her at around six-foot-tall, and her long blonde hair was styled – possibly by some guy with a fake French accent who charges too much for too much hairspray and calls it the latest fashion. She wore a red and white checked dress that hugged every curve of her body – purposely leaving little to the imagination. The woman’s peach-shaped ass seemed to balance out her large breasts. Steel chuckled to himself, the man was around five foot six with thick-rimmed glasses, and a pensile moustache, his face was round and held a nervous look. As a waitress seated them not far from his table, Steel could not help but smile at the massive difference between them.

“Ah, L’amour,” Steel said, with a smile. In the far corner of the room, Steel noticed a man sitting alone at the bar, he usually would not stick out as lots of people were sitting unaccompanied, but something made Steel nervous, something about him was off. Steel watched the man as he made out he was watching the football on the large television on the wall, Steel couldn’t make out the man’s height due to the fact that he was slumped at the bar – as if he was trying to make himself smaller or not visible. He had shoulder-length brown hair which nearly hid his square-jawed face. He was in his mid-thirties and had the start of a tan which Steel thought may have been from Middle Eastern or African sun. Steel watched intently as the man scribbled in his small notebook, only looking up to take note of his surroundings. Steel broke his gaze; he emptied the contents of his coffee cup, and stood up, this trip was fourteen days long, and he needed to find why this ship's name was so essential, the problem was that Steel didn’t even know if this was the right place, all he knew was that the name NEPTUNE was important.

At the 11th precinct New York City, everything seemed like a typical day. The phones never stopped ringing, and uniforms brought in suspects for questioning, or people cued to speak to a detective or the desk sergeant. The crime rate that year had been strangely low – possibly due to the constant rain showers. Captain Brant of the Homicide Department had a theory that the warm weather made everyone nuts, so the cold, wet weather was a blessing. Unfortunately, some of the criminals didn’t share the same view and broke his law of criminality far too often. He sat in his office, going over the latest directives from 1PP – the Mount Olympus of the Police Department in New York, where the commissioner and the rest of the powerful suits sat and made decisions before a round of eighteen holes. A place he never fitted into – and would possibly never see as a workplace and that suited him just fine. Brant was a big man – broad shoulders filled out a white shirt with thin blue stripes. The first black man in his part of town to make it through college, served in the military in the Marines and after twelve years of service, joined the police department.

He had seen most of his friends end up in gangs, then later making the front page because of a gang shooting. He had decided to make something of himself. He had served in Grenade and the first gulf war. He’d seen enough death to last him a lifetime, or so he’d thought, then he got posted to Homicide.

Brant slammed down the paperwork and rocked back and forth in his chair. The government wanted to make more cutbacks and budget cuts. How were they supposed to keep order with fewer police and solve murders with fewer detectives? Overtime had gone out of the window last month, and at least ten good detectives had been asked to take early retirement. Brant had the feeling with any more cuts they might be looking at closing precincts next. Budget cuts, ha, they had plenty of cash when it comes to paying for a presidential visit. Brant stood up and looked out through his window and out onto the bullpen. He smiled as he saw McCall sitting at her desk. She was a good cop – captain material if she’d pull her finger out. She’d already done her sergeants exam and was waiting for confirmation. Probably wouldn’t get it with these cuts, shame he thought, waste of a good cop, a good detective. With her was her best friend and also the police pathologist – Tina Franks. Brant walked back to his desk and grabbed his suit jacket from the back of his chair. He was going home. No reason to stay, bad guys would still be there in the morning; besides, there was no overtime.

“Good evening doctor,” Brant said, with a smiled greeting.

“Captain,” she responded, returning the expressional greeting.

“Sammy, don’t leave it too late, remember you’ll be working for free if you do,” he joked, but his voice held a bitter tone.

“Goodnight Captain, don’t worry, I’ll be off soon, just need to finish off the paperwork for the Collins case,” she replied, pointing to the computer monitor.

“OK, see you in the morning,” he said, slipping on his jacket, and headed towards the elevator. As he stepped into the elevator, he heard his phone ring. He was tempted to go back and answer it – but he knew it would be someone from downtown asking him what he was doing about the cuts. He let the doors slide shut. As they did so, he gave a wink to McCall and put his finger to his lips. She smiled and shook her head. He was out, at a meeting or something, was the only thing she could think of if her phone rang and the people Brant was avoiding called her. Try again tomorrow, dickhead; she continued to think. She smiled and shook her head. Possibly not those exact words, she thought with a wicked smile.

McCall sat at her desk, sipping her coffee and looking out of the window at the far side of the room as the rain came down in sheets. The Cascades of water streamed down the misty panes, obscuring the view out of the window. Flashes of light clung to the rivers of rainwater and distant rumbles of thunder became lost in the melody of the New York traffic below.

Mountains of files filled the corner of her desk, but she had no lust for the hours of paperwork, the adventure with Steel had given her insight into a darker but more exciting side of the job, and she wanted that, now. She looked over to the empty chair next to her desk and smiled softly; she almost jumped out of her seat when the phone on her desk rang with the electronic bell tone.

“Detective McCall, Homicide” she listened while grabbing a pen and noting down an address on a pad of post-its that lay next to the phone. As she stood up, Tina Franks looked over towards her.

“What’s up?” Tina asked, with a disappointed look on her face.

“We got a fresh one,” McCall said, with a broken smile. “No fun tonight I’m afraid Tina, better grab your stuff,” McCall said, handing her a copy of the address. As Tina left, McCall spotted Detective Jenny Thompson coming from the coffee room “Jenny, get your coat, your riding with me.” The fresh-faced detective nodded eagerly. Jenny walked over to McCall just as she had opened her desk drawer.

“Have you heard anything from Detective Steel?” Jenny asked, with a concerned look on her face. McCall looked up and shot the young woman a look that left her cold.

“He is on vacation, on a cruise ship,” McCall said, slamming the drawer, and shoved the small notebook into her jacket. A post-it sailed gently down to the floor. As Jenny quickly turned, she knocked the piece of paper under the desk, as it flew under the words STEEL. CHECK CALLAN INDUSTRIES, disappeared from view.

FIVE

The rain poured down relentlessly onto McCall’s faded blue Mustang as they turned onto Madison and headed north. As Detective Samantha McCall drove, the wipers on her ’66 Mustang worked overtime to clear the windscreen of the pounding rain. They soon arrived at the hotel on East 56th Street; the rain had kept many of the New Yorkers off the streets. Unfortunately, the people who had stayed home on East 56th had abandoned their vehicles rather than parked them. Between the poorly parked cars and UPS vans making deliveries, parking would be a nightmare on any day of the week, let alone a day when it was full of police cars and the ME’s wagons.

Eventually, McCall found a parking spot next to a dry cleaner’s, its red and green sign seemed brighter as the rain streamed down the front window of the store. Both detectives made for the hotel. Rushing from the car, they entered the large brass front doors of the building, the lobby of the hotel was quite dark, even though the walls were a mixture of white paint and mirrors, the highly polished floor mirrored the small lights encrusted into the ceiling. Before them, stood a uniformed officer who directed them to the second floor. Not far behind them, Tooms and Tony came through the entrance, dripping on to the polished floor.

“What the hell are you guys doing here?” McCall asked, with a scowl.

“We got the call as well,” Tony said, waving his cell phone. “Besides, the date sucked, she preferred the waiter,” Tony shrugged.

“Speak for yourself, I was havin' steak tonight man, friggin' steak and they call me in,” Tooms growled. McCall shot him a confused look – not understanding where his priority’s lay, it was his anniversary, and he was worried about steak?

They took the elevator to the third floor. The small box shuddered to a halt, and the doors opened. As they stepped out, McCall noticed the hallway was full of uniform officers making door to door enquiries, to try to get some information on the victim or hopefully, the murderer. They moved up, passing officers in the hallway until they reached room 208. The room was large with a double bed that had been placed in the middle of the room against the right wall, the only light came from the bedside and a lamp on a dresser which was opposite the bed. Next to the large window, a standard lamp illuminated the corner. Two armchairs had been placed in front of the window with a small coffee table nestled between them. Thompson oozed with pride as she passed the uniforms. She had gone through the ranks quickly, some thought too quickly, but she did not care. As they stood in the doorway, they could see Tina examining what appeared to be a woman on the bed. Before entering, the detectives put on the blue plastic booties, they had found next to the door, and a pair of blue gloves.

“Ok guys, don’t touch anything, CSU hasn’t been in yet,” Insisted Tina, they all nodded in agreement. McCall was a thorough cop, a good cop; she insisted that the other detectives carry at least two things - a notebook and a camera. Some thought the camera was unnecessary, but she had learnt from her dad that sometimes, memories are not enough on a case. McCall walked up to Tina, who was noting the body temperature.

“Hey,” McCall said, greeting her friend. Tina looked around at McCall.

“Hey,” Tina said, returning the greeting with a smile. “Well we got a Caucasian female around late thirties, early forties,” Tina said, as McCall took notes. The victim was wearing a red dress which looked more evening wear than as if she were going shopping, possibly for a night out or rendezvous with someone special. The woman had been pretty once McCall had thought, noting the photographs of the woman that were on the woman’s cell phone.

“So, I guess she sat on the edge of the bed and took out the .45, put it underneath her chin and…?” McCall said, mimicking the action with her fingers. The team took note of the massive blood splatter on the ceiling and most of the back wall; there was also a blood pool on the bed where she had fallen. The woman lay there, staring upwards into nothing with her grey, lifeless eyes. In her left hand, she held a nickel-plated snub-nosed .45 revolver – her fingers wrapped loosely around the pistol grip and trigger. McCall moved in closer to get a better look, behind her the CSU had arrived and were taking photos. McCall turned to see a small woman in CSU coveralls holding the SLR camera fully laden with flashes to get the perfect shot.

“Sorry,” McCall said, moving out of the technician’s way. “Can I get copies of those as soon as possible please?” McCall asked.

“Sure, Detective,” the tech replied as she took another shot. McCall watched as another tech removed the pistol from the woman’s grip, and clicking the chamber open, he removed the cartridges one at a time, checking them and placing them inside a clear self-sealing evidence bag.

“One round fired,” he said, holding up the empty brass case, then bagging it separately. McCall leaned in and looked at her face, studying the features. Thompson stood next to her and noted the expression on McCall’s face.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, inquisitively. McCall stood up and began to take her photos of the body. McCall’s face winced as she watched Tina try to separate the woman’s blood-sodden head from the bedclothes.

“What do you see?” McCall asked Jenny. Thompson gave McCall a confused look.

“What do you mean?” Jenny asked, suddenly feeling as though McCall was picking on her. Ever since she had moved up, McCall had been hard on her, or so she thought – did McCall feel threatened by her? She couldn’t say.

“Jenny tell me what you see,” Thompson studied the scene, she felt like saying “A dead chick on the bed,” but she knew that would go down like a lead balloon.

“White female, possible suicide,” Jenny started to explain, then she paused.

“Go on,” McCall said. She smiled as she could feel the tension building in Jenny.

“I…I don’t know.” Jenny suddenly barked. “What is this? Are you testing me or something?” with that, she stormed off. Tina looked up at McCall and gave her a sympathetic look.

“Ok, Tina, have you got a T.O.D?” Tina looked at her clipboard, “Well till I get her back I can’t be sure, but you’re looking at around twelve, twelve-thirty last night.” McCall thanked her before turning, and went looking for Thompson. McCall found Jenny in the hallway, leaning on her knees, gasping for breath.

“You ok?” McCall asked – her look was unsympathetic, emotionless even. Jenny looked up and gave McCall a bad puppy look, which caused McCall to smile.

“Look, yes, I am testing you, but I am also training you. I need to know what you know and well – fill in the blanks.” McCall said, recalling her own experience as a new detective. Working the street is one thing, but McCall had soon learnt it wasn’t like the movies or books. Jenny stood up and blew out a gut full of air.

“Ok, we’re going back in, and you tell me what you see, but don’t speculate, just what you see,” McCall said, extending a hand so Jenny could pull herself up. Jenny nodded, and they went back in. The metallic tang of dried blood filled the air – along with the stench of perfume and hairspray. Jenny walked over to the body and McCall waited close by, giving the rookie detective space to observe.