Tiger Bait

  S J Richards

  TIGER BAIT

  Published worldwide by Apple Loft Press

  This edition published in 2025

  Copyright © 2025 by S J Richards

  S J Richards has asserted his right to be identified as the author of this work in accordance with the Copyright, Design and Patents Act 1988.

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author, except for quotes or short extracts for the purpose of reviews.

  www.sjrichardsauthor.com

  For Kirstie and Lily

  The Luke Sackville Crime Thriller Series

  Taken to the Hills

  Black Money

  Fog of Silence

  The Corruption Code

  Lethal Odds

  Sow the Wind

  Beacon of Blight

  Tiger Bait

  Mr Killjoy

  Chapter 1

  Diana sat back on the bar stool and surveyed her all-white kitchen. It was the stuff of dreams with its hand-crafted cabinets, Corian worktops and top-of-the-range Wolf appliances.

  She smiled as she recalled returning from the Costa del Sol, a holiday paid for by her dad as a present for her fortieth, to find him waiting at the front door with a bunch of flowers.

  “I’ve got another surprise for you,” he’d said with a twinkle in his eye.

  “They’re lovely,” she’d said, taking the bouquet from him and assuming the roses were what he meant.

  He’d laughed. “Not those. Close your eyes.”

  She’d closed her eyes and he’d grabbed her hand and led her into the kitchen, while her then-partner Pierre had followed meekly behind.

  “Now open them.”

  She’d cried when she’d seen the transformation to her kitchen.

  “Wow, Dad. It’s lovely.”

  He’d smiled and kissed her on the cheek.

  “Nothing’s too good for my precious.”

  Little did either of them know that the cancer had already taken hold of his body. Three months later, he’d been diagnosed with leukaemia, and soon afterwards the oncologist revealed that there were cancerous cells in his spleen and liver.

  He’d survived for almost a year, but then her dad had always been a fighter.

  She wiped beneath her eyes, took a deep breath and tried to steady herself. Hardly a day went by without her thinking of him, and of the inspiration he’d been, but she needed to remain positive and reflect on how proud he would be of her plans for the family business.

  This new endeavour was risky, but it also had the potential to be the most profitable since she’d taken the reins.

  But only if her planning was meticulous.

  Diana started checking through the fifty-odd actions on her notepad, and was halfway through when she realised she’d omitted a crucial element. It wasn’t much on the face of it, a phone call to Flynn to check he was in situ, but success required that she dot all the I’s and cross all the T’s.

  It was disappointing to have missed something so obvious. If she wasn’t thorough, everything she’d been planning for weeks could come to nought. Although she had a lot of faith in the people working for her, coordinating their activities so that they functioned as a team wasn’t easy. They were strong-minded individuals, and success required excellent timing and seamless execution, but above all that they worked as one.

  And also, although she hated to admit it, it required an element of luck.

  One more run-through and she decided the plan was comprehensive. It was important to start phoning around the team, but she couldn’t do that until her son was out of the house.

  She looked up at the kitchen clock, then walked to the hall and called up the stairs.

  “Roma, are you ready yet?”

  There was no response.

  She raised her voice.

  “The match starts at eleven. You need to leave in the next five minutes.”

  A few seconds later her son’s bedroom door slammed shut, and he stomped down the stairs.

  “I haven’t had breakfast,” he moaned, as if it was her fault.

  “That’s what comes of sleeping in so late.”

  “If you gave me a lift, I wouldn’t have to rush.”

  “I’m busy all day and can’t afford the time.”

  He could be a pain, but she’d been much the same at his age, not that she’d been brave enough to challenge her dad, or at least not more than once. She’d been fourteen when he’d told her she couldn’t stay out after 10 pm, and she’d snapped that he was ‘a stupid old man’. He’d beaten her for that, beaten her badly, and she’d ended up with a black eye and two broken ribs.

  Her father had been a hard man, but you had to be tough to survive in their line of work.

  Roma grabbed his bag from the coat rack, walked to the kitchen, and extracted two bags of crisps and a cereal bar from one of the wall cupboards.

  “How come you’re busy all day?” he asked as he stuffed them into his rucksack.

  “It’s work.”

  “Anything interesting?”

  “A new venture.”

  “Can I help?”

  She laughed and would have ruffled his hair if he wasn’t now two inches taller than her. At five foot ten, she wasn’t exactly diminutive herself.

  He was broad too, almost indecently so, and it was no wonder he was the powerhouse of the St Paul’s Under-16s football team.

  “You’re only fifteen, Roma, much too young to be involved in my side of the business. Your Uncle Jay’s got you running errands for him and you should look upon that as an apprenticeship.”

  “Yeah, it’s all right, I suppose.”

  “I don't hear you complaining about the money.”

  He smiled then. She loved it when he smiled.

  “So, who are you playing today?”

  “Kingswood Wanderers.”

  “Is that the lot that beat you 3-0?”

  “Yeah. Not going to happen this time though.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  Roma grinned. “Cos I’m gonna flatten their centre-forward in the first five minutes. Put him out of the game.”

  “Be careful. Make sure the ref’s not watching.”

  “I’m not stupid, Mum.”

  He turned to leave.

  “Hey, aren’t you forgetting something?”

  His smile returned and he bent down to kiss her on the cheek.

  “Love you, Mum.”

  “Love you, Roma.”

  Diana shut the front door and reflected on what a wonderful son he was. She’d been careful not to spoil him, conscious that he was fatherless and an only child, and was proud of his development. He could be impulsive, especially when he was angry, but she was confident he’d learn how to control himself as he matured.

  Physically, Roma was more than capable of holding his own, but what she most admired was his independent character. He wasn’t frightened to speak his mind and would be an excellent addition to the business once he was old enough.

  Seventeen, she thought. Once he was seventeen he’d be ready, she was sure of it.

  That was less than eighteen months away, which seemed soon, but she’d start him off lightly, perhaps supporting Flynn. If he did that well, she’d give him progressively more challenging roles until she could test him out as a manager and give him his own patch to control.

  She returned to her notepad, spent a couple of minutes considering who to call first, then decided to start with Apollo, not because he was her brother, but because this was the first time the two of them had cooperated like this since their dad had died. Apollo was doing well, and delivering decent profits, but what she was asking him to do today was new to him and she had to be sure he was ready.

  Plus he lacked a sense of urgency, and she was worried he might mistime things.

  He answered after several rings, which was frustrating in itself.

  “Hi, Sis.”

  “How’s it going?”

  “Fine. Everything’s in control.”

  “The van’s ready then?”

  “Not quite.”

  “What do you mean, not quite?”

  Apollo laughed. “Stop fretting, Sis. Milo and I are on it now.”

  “Milo! I can’t believe you’ve involved that pea-brained yokel. A bag of rocks has a higher IQ than Milo.”

  “He’s okay. What he’s doing isn’t mentally taxing. I don’t see the problem.”

  She sighed. “You’re clear on the timing?”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll be there at noon on the dot.”

  “What do you mean noon?”

  Apollo laughed again. “You’re too easy to wind up, Di. 11:15, 52 Penrose Avenue. You can count on me.”

  Diana felt like giving him an earful. This was a big day, and his supposed sense of humour was more than she could cope with.

  What was the point though? Apollo wasn’t one to take it on the chin, and she didn't have time for an argument. Plus, if she wound him up, he might deliberately do something to skewer the operation.

  She hung up without saying anything else and moved to the second person on her list.

  Half an hour later,
she finished her last call and sat back on the chair, confident that everything was coming together. A part of her wanted to ring Apollo back and emphasise the importance of his role, but she resisted the urge.

  She headed upstairs, changed into her black trousers and jumper then retrieved the balaclava from the bottom drawer of her dressing table.

  She pulled the balaclava on, looked at herself in the mirror and shivered at the scary reflection that stared back at her.

  Come on, Diana. You can do it, and think how proud Dad would be.

  Chapter 2

  Barbara had a difficult decision to make.

  Pilates or yoga?

  She’d pre-paid for pilates, and it was at 11:30, but Maureen would probably be there, and she couldn’t bear another hour of her bleating about her arthritis. The woman was seventy-eight for heaven’s sake. What did she expect? We all have aches and pains at that age. Her own shoulders hurt occasionally, but did she complain all the time?

  No, she didn’t!

  And if Maureen didn’t turn up, there was Libby to contend with. Barbara shook her head as she recalled how rude Libby had been the previous week, stopping her halfway through her story like that. She’d said she’d told her before, and then had the cheek to ask why it took ten minutes to get to the point.

  What utter nonsense! The birthday card had been marked as £1.99 and had come up as £2.99 on the till. That was a pound, a whole pound! And you couldn't relate the story without describing the journey there, and why she was buying the card in the first place.

  Some people!

  Yes, yoga was more tempting. She’d put on the DVD her son bought her for Christmas and work her way through the second session. It meant she could stay indoors too, which was a bonus given it was forecast to stay below five degrees all day.

  So much for March being the first month of Spring.

  She flicked the TV on and had just inserted the DVD when the doorbell went.

  To her surprise, it was her next-door neighbour.

  “Is everything okay, Jim? Nothing’s happened to Gail, has it?”

  He smiled. “We’re fine, Barbara, but we’re going out and I completely forgot I’ve got a delivery coming. Would you mind taking it in for me?”

  “Of course not. Are you going anywhere exciting?”

  “We’re having lunch in Bristol, and then going to a matinee at the Hippodrome.”

  “How lovely. I’ll be in all day, so pop around when you’re back.”

  “Will do. Thanks.”

  “I went to Bristol myself last Thursday and you wouldn't believe what happened on the way back.”

  “Really. Ah…”

  “On the way there it was fine. The bus was a couple of minutes late leaving Bath bus station, but that’s to be expected, isn't it?” She laughed. “I mean they can’t keep exactly to schedule. That would be impossible. And anyway, I wasn't on a deadline. The shops are open late on a Thursday, so I had as long as I needed. I went to John Lewis first because they had a sale in the…”

  “Barbara?”

  “Yes, Jim.”

  “I’m going to have to go. Perhaps you can tell me some other time.”

  “Yes, I’ll do that. Although what happened was most peculiar. I should have suspected something when the bus driver looked at me like that, but I didn’t dream…”

  “Sorry, Barbara. I really must be off. Thanks for saying you’ll take the parcel.”

  He turned and headed back to his house, which was a shame because he’d brought back the memory of the time a delivery driver had dumped a skirt she’d ordered in one of her flower pots. It was doubly interesting because of the tattoo he’d had on his arm, and she was sure Jim would be interested to hear all about it.

  Not to worry, she’d tell him when he came to pick his parcel up.

  She closed the door, returned to the lounge and watched as the instructor started to describe the first movement of the session.

  Barbara sat on the floor ready to copy her lead, and the bell went again.

  She paused the DVD, climbed to her feet and returned to the front door, smiling to herself as she did so. It was probably the delivery driver, but might well be Jim wanting to hear the end of her story.

  She opened the door wide and immediately put her hand to her mouth. The man in front of her was big, but it wasn’t his size that shocked her. He was wearing headgear that left only his eyes and mouth visible.

  “What’s your name?” he demanded, his voice low and gravelly.

  “Why? Who are you? I…”

  She started to close the door, but he blocked it with his foot and then stepped through.

  Barbara opened her mouth to scream, but he smothered it with a gloved hand, bent down and hissed, “Don’t even think of crying out for help. Understand?.”

  She nodded, and he took his hand away.

  “What do you want? I haven’t got much money, just some…”

  “You’re going to make a video.”

  All sorts of scenarios went through Barbara’s head, none of them pleasant.

  “A video of what?”

  “Your neighbours. They’re going out soon, and I want you to film them and give a running commentary.”

  “What? Why?”

  “You didn’t answer my question. What’s your name?”

  “Barbara.” She gulped. “Barbara Wadding.”

  He nodded, retrieved an iPhone from his pocket and passed it to her.

  “Open the camera, Barbara, and put it in video mode.”

  “I don’t know how to.”

  He shook his head in irritation, took off his gloves, retrieved the phone, clicked a couple of times and then held it so that she could see the screen.

  “Press this red button to begin, and press it again to stop. Understand?”

  “Yes.”

  “First, I want you to introduce yourself, and say what’s happened today.”

  “From when I got up?”

  He sighed. “No. From when I rang the bell.”

  “Okay.”

  She looked down at the phone, clicked on the red button and held the phone out in front of her.

  “My name is Barbara Wadding, and I was about to start a yoga session when my doorbell rang. I had considered going to Pilates, but Maureen will probably be there and even if she’s not Libby might be. Besides, my son gave me a DVD for…”

  “Stop.”

  She looked over at him. “What?”

  “Press the red button.”

  She pressed it.

  “Give it here.”

  She passed it over.

  He clicked play, watched the first few seconds and then deleted the video.

  “You took a video of the floor.”

  “How did that happen? I was looking at the screen.”

  “You need to switch to the front-facing camera.”

  “The what?”

  “Don't worry. I’ll do it.” He clicked to change cameras and passed it back. “And this time don’t waste time with that shit about Pilates and Maureen and your son. Go straight into me arriving.”

  Barbara nodded and was about to click the red button again when the phone rang, startling her so much that she almost dropped it.

  He held his hand out.

  “Give it here.”

  She passed it back and he accepted the call.

  “I’m inside.” He paused for a few seconds, his piercing blue eyes fixed on Barbara, before adding, “She’s hard work. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  He hung up and passed the phone back.

  “Right, let’s start again.”

  She swallowed, looked at the screen and pressed the red button.

  “Hi. Uh…”

  She looked up at him and he gestured for her to get on with it.

  “My name is Barbara Wadding, and I answered the door to a man in a balaclava who asked me to make a video of my neighbours. I’m not very good with phones though, and I used the wrong camera. Apparently, it has a front-facing…”

  He snatched the phone back and hit the red button.

  “Was that okay?”

  He replayed it then grunted.

  “It’ll have to do.”

  He clicked twice and passed it back.

  “I’ve put it back to the main camera. As soon as we leave the house, I want you to start recording.”