Disequilibrium

Aliya clutched the carrots close to her chest as she scurried around the store. It was peak time on a Saturday afternoon and incredibly busy…just as she liked it. Grasping greedily at the last loaf of bread, to the disgust of a woman who was chirping down her phone while reaching for it at the exact same time, Aliya Kyle felt a rush of triumph. Serves you right, she thought to herself, with a smile spreading across her face which she pointed directly at phone-lady. People on mobiles when they should be concentrating on the job in hand had always irritated Aliya. At the checkout, she piled her supplies into a ten-pence paper bag with too many crinkles for her liking and ventured out into the crisp, crunching snow. Aliya took a deep breath, letting the freezing air soar through her lungs, feeling like a bird gliding through the sky, as it instantly revived her. She loved the fresh relief of Winter.

Clasping the top of the paper bag loosely in her hands, Aliya began her relaxing stroll down the main street. Overwhelmingly absorbed in the joys of the pale grey sky, which promised a fresh sprinkle of snow before lunch, Aliya was so at ease she began to swing the bag gently back and forth as her footsteps fell into a gentle drumming. She loved to hear the rhythmic pattern. After a few steps, she would shuffle and change the beat, running melodies through her head to match the comforting thuds. Tap, tap, tappety, shuffle; tappety-tap, tap, shuffle. She felt a glow in her heart and a smile ease onto her face in amusement. She loved the power of changing the strides. Like the feeling a child gets when it exerts its strength on a poor, unsuspecting ant for the first time, relishing the squish under their foot and the thrill of importance that follows such a heinous act.

 Suddenly and without warning, she was drawn back into the real world by a harrowing tearing noise. All of her artfully arranged shopping tumbled chaotically to the ground, spraying splashes of melted, muddy, contaminated mush over her pristinely white winter coat. At the sight of the disorderly mess, she felt a rush of irritated rage explode within her, aimed mainly at the useless paper bag on the ground. She had every mind to storm back to the store and demand her ten pence back for sheer incompetence! Perhaps she would have too, had she not been instantly and unexpectedly distracted. Aliya Kyle had just snatched up her snow-soaked carrot-victims when she heard a screech of tyres, causing her to drop them again as a booming voice echoed across the street, ‘You’re coming with us, Miss!’

Two merciless men, towering tall like skyscrapers ordered her to stand still as they grabbed her wrists and pulled them painfully behind her arms, handcuffing them tight. One of the men, sandy-haired…flashed his silver badge in her face, long enough for her only to spot the word, “Police- Connor Carter”. Constricted and panic-stricken, Aliya opened her eyes wide and stuttered.

‘No, Sir…please…I don’t like to be touched…please,’ She whimpered helplessly as she tried to wriggle.

Connor pulled his grey, woollen coat tightly to protect himself from the darkening sky and barked, ‘You know what you did. Now let us be having you, it’s perishing out here.’

The other officer gave a tired sigh and muttered, ‘Hadn’t we better read her the rights? That new guy, Bennett is pretty tight on these things’

Aliya nodded vigorously, praying they would tell her of what she was accused, hoping desperately they would read out a different name than hers altogether and that this whole mess would end in a simple misunderstanding.

Carter shook his head viciously, ‘Nah mate, its blooding freezing and there’s a steaming cup of coffee back at the station with my name on it. Let’s just take her in already. Doubt this little mouse is going to shout up about anything, Bennett won’t know a thing. Besides, he sent us out here after her on his own tipped info. If anyone asks, we’ll say we read ‘em. That’s the advantage of hauling in criminals.’

An electric shock of incredulity seared through Aliya’s body in outrage and her mouth opened wide in anger. Mouse indeed. She hated mice in fact. Dirty, messy creatures.

 She opened her mouth and made multiple splutters of anger, but no words would form, and the Officer simply winked at her and he pushed her closer to the car, while Inspector Carter covered Aliya’s head to protect it from the roof. Aliya melted into a stunned silence and a single tear slid from her eyes. She had no idea who these men thought she was, but she instantly felt her orderly world begin to crash down around her and her body began to shake at the injustice.

As the Police Inspectors pulled the car away, Aliya looked back at her abandoned shopping and the prized loaf of bread she had so triumphantly won only half an hour before all of this nonsense. It lay crumpled on the ground, blowing in the blustering, snowy wind that furiously whipped. Disgusting, flea-ridden dogs would probably eat her beautiful bread-loaf now.

‘Bloody hate Winter,’ Inspector Carter huffed moodily through the caged-covered front seat. Aliya pursed her lips in disgust at his final insult.

 **************************

Not ten minutes later, the car screeched up to the run-down police station. It was an off-grey colour like filthy washing up water. The thick clouds had surrendered their fight with the snow that had scarcely been contained within them and when the officers tugged the door open forcefully, with another notable huff, an enthusiastic flurry of feathery flakes had begun to coat to floor rapidly.

‘Out you come Princess.’ Carter reached in and pulled Aliya from the car. Before she knew it she was checked into the station and sat alone in a clinically white interrogation room. She tapped her foot nervously on the plastic table leg, clicking her tongue in distraction, with the slightest hint of impatience, as she stared through the obvious two-way mirror window before her.

Suddenly, a new man calmly walked through the door and into the room as if he were on a pleasant summer stroll in the park. He smiled warmly at Aliya, pulled out his chair and sat silently, shuffling some papers from the pile in his hand. Aliya wanted to scream in frustration at the injustice of being held against her will and without a clue of what she was accused.

Two seconds later, Carter waltzed in with his steaming cup of coffee and dropped into a lazy slouch in the chair next to the new officer. Aliya felt her lip curl. She did not like Carter, or his laziness.

The new officer began, patiently and calmly, ‘I am DCI Oscar Bennett. Hello Aliya. May I call you Aliya, or would you prefer Ms Kyle?’

Aliya was surprised to hear the politeness in Bennett’s voice. No wonder the other two rude officers had spent the whole car ride showing their dislike and disdain for this man. He was everything they were not.

‘Aliya is fine.’ She whispered.

‘Now, Ms.Kyle. While we are not formally starting our interview with you, it would be good to get an insight into where you stand on all of this. Save us some time for when your lawyer gets here. So feel free to say nothing, but just as equally…say something.’ Bennett beamed.

‘Why’d you do it Aliya?’ Carter suddenly puffed at her, spinning his coffee cup, ‘Why’d you kill him?’

Aliya felt her blood run cold. It was worse than she possibly could have imagined. Confusion wrinkled through her forehead. She had started her day with a simple grocery stock-up and now here she was, a prisoner accused of murder.

‘It’s Ms Kyle to you and I didn’t kill nobody!’ She snarled at Carter with a frown, but felt a bead of sweat forming on her upper lip.

Carter shuffled and opened his mouth as if to respond, but Bennett lifted his hand with an untroubled smile. He took a picture from his folder and placed it gently on the table. As he pushed it toward Aliya, she saw the glowingly kind, innocent face of an elderly man. He had silvering hair and twinkling blue eyes.

‘Who is that?’ she swallowed, nervously.

‘I was hoping you could tell me that. I get that you’re going for the victim act at the moment Ms.Kyle, but I think you owe it to Dr.Greylove to tell the truth about why you did what you did to him.’ Bennett gave a sincere tilt of his head as he look pleadingly at Aliya, as if searching for a grain of good within her.

Aliya felt the tears well up in her eyes, ‘I don’t know who that man is, Sir. If I did, I’d tell you. I was just out shopping. There must’ve been some sort of mix-up. How do you even know my name? Why do you think I had anything to do with this? I couldn’t even harm a fly!’, she exploded into a thousand protestations, each more desperate than the last. She felt her heart quicken into palpitations and her hands begin to flap, still sore from the handcuff marks of her street restraint.

‘Now, calm down…I’m…’ Bennet began, but Carter slammed his hands on the table and stood up furiously.

‘Look, we got homes to go to lady. We got your prints; we know you did it. We just need a why. Do us all a favour and spill the beans. Then we can get on with our busy lives and you can get on with rotting in a jail cell! Tell us, NOW!’ He roared.

Bennett looked at him in outrage, ‘Mr Carter, kindly control yourself in my interrogation room!’

Aliya felt herself melt into sheer panic, ‘I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know. Lawyer, I need. Lawyer…. L…L…law…’

She felt her head go light and the room went black.

‘Jesus…Look what you’ve done Carter. Get out of here.’

Aliya could hear shouting, but no matter how she tried her eyes wouldn’t open. She heard the door click open, Bennett’s voice called out for a medic. Then Carter’s whine, ‘I’m not paid enough for this’.

Finally the door slammed shut and she heard a lock turn.

She opened one eye the smallest fraction. Wait…Wait for it.

5…4…3…2… She counted in her head, feeling the rush swell within her, 1.

Aliya opened her eyes wide, just as the lights in the room shut off…just as planned…and she was plunged into darkness. Time to get the job done. She felt for the table leg with her hands, hopped onto the plastic surface with ease and stretched up to the ceiling tiles.

Tap, Tap, Tappety… Tap, Tap…She knew it was hear somewhere. Then thud.  The hollow sound filled her with triumph. She pushed the tile up and slid it into the hole of the air vent. Aliya slotted her arms into the gap, relying on her instincts of touch and sound. She had about a minute before the lights would come back on. She hoisted herself up with the swinging grace of a trapeze artist. She felt around either side of her as she began to lay herself down in the constricted space. Her patient, expert fingers landed softly on the night-vision goggles that awaited her. She placed them firmly on her head and with her newfound freedom of easy sight wedged the panel back into the ceiling behind her.

Aliya began to drag herself slowly through the vent tunnel, counting carefully and breathing as slowly as she could, to preserve both her air and her hidden status. She had done this a few times in her life by now and she had never yet made a mistake on a job, but there was a first time for everything. Below, she felt the vibrating thuds of the door unlocking and opening and Carter yelling.

‘Where the hell has she gone!’ with a roar adding, ‘Bennett, we got a problem!’

Bennett’s hasty reply echoed, ‘What caused the power to cut? Get me those lights back on! I want every room searched’

Aliya slid along slowly, making sure not to give away her location in the air tunnels above him. Still she couldn’t help the joy of pulling one over on Carter. Who’s a little mousey now, rodent? She thought amusedly.

She worked her way through the tunnel, although admittedly it was exhausting work. She counted the lefts and rights carefully. One left…count to ten…then right…count to 25, then drop. Just as she had memorised. Sure enough, she pushed hard below her and dislodged the ceiling grate, almost dropping it with a crash. She let out a gasp, but just managed to cling to the cool metal with her fingers. She eased herself down, took a deep breath of fresh oxygen and spun around to the bookcase. With all her strength she pulled it gently away from the wall and slid her hand down the back, landing finally onto a small bag. With a great tug, it came free. In a heartbeat she had changed into the blonde wig and girly paisley floral dress hidden inside, a world apart from the auburn raven hair and tomboy biker boots she had been arrested with. She unwrapped the strip of gum from inside her sock, chewed it for ten seconds and stuck it over the CCTV camera in the corner. She pulled on the protective gloves and made her way to the light switch, flicking it on gently as she pulled off the goggles. Aliya stuffed her old clothes and the goggles back in the bag, wedged it firmly behind the silver bin, just as instructed and spun around to the archives. She felt in the pocket of the dress and landed upon the green contact lenses that would mask her eye colour. Expertly slipping them in, (she no longer required a mirror for such an easy task), she finished her disguise with some gold rimmed, round glasses and pulled her wig-hair up into a tight ponytail.

Now…she needed the evidence. She flicked her finger over the boxed letters of the alphabetised documents. Abbot….Burns…Carlton…Greylove.  She gave a little leap as she landed on the Doctor’s name. Lifting the box lid, she pulled out the evidence bags containing the prints, the photos and most importantly, the ocean blue tie with the light spatter of blood droplets stained deep. Got ya, she thought to herself, careful not to read any details. Knowing things didn’t do you well in her business.

She slammed the lid back down, pushed it perfectly into place, checking the corners of the box lined up with the dust stains on the shelf. By the time she was done, nobody…even the most trained officer… would know that anyone had been in the room. Precision was her game. She flicked the light off, peeled the gum from the CCTV camera off. She let out a final calming sigh, straightened her dress and pulled the evidence room door open.

She shut the door with a satisfying click and turned to the chaotic rushes of the corridor before her, where officers shouted at each other in panic.

A middle-aged officer with black hair and tired eyes spotted her. “Hey you…what were you doing in there?’

Aliya froze and opened her mouth, ‘I am from the lab. They saids I should pick up evidence for testing. I’m only intern.’ She put on her best Polish accent. 

‘Fine. Get out of here though, we’ve had an incident and we don’t need unfamiliar bodies around making it harder. Make sure you sign that out as well! Get the lab to do it from their side. Go on, off with you!’ he instructed and Aliya gave a small nod.

She hurried from the station in her best ‘distressed-but-innocent victim in the wrong place at the wrong time’ act and disappeared into the streets un-noticed by another soul.

**************

Much later, in her kitchen, Nataliya Kyle sat sipping her raspberry vodka shot with her phone and the obtained evidence on the side in front of her. She looked at the clock. Tapped her foot to the ticking beat. Any moment now. 18:58…18:59…19:00.  

Right on schedule the phone by her left hand began buzzing confidently.

‘Yes…’ she said clearly.

‘Did you get it?’ the voice questioned boldly.

‘Of course. When have I ever failed you?’ she smiled down the phone, amused at the sheer idea of failure. Nataliya Kyle did not fail. Not when taking the last loaf of bread from under the nose of a distracted, mobile-addicted commoner and certainly not when on a job to retrieve damning evidence for a client desperate to avoid jail.

‘Good. I’ll have the envelope pushed through your letterbox at 22:00 hours exactly. Do not open the door. Do not look attempt to look at the deliverer. Put the evidence in the envelope, address it to P.T. James, 39 Harcroft Court. At midnight, no earlier and no later, take it to the post box on Ainsley Avenue and post it. Do not open the evidence bag. Await your next job, tomorrow at 7:00 hours sharp. Understood?’ The voice was strong. Not threatening, but severe enough to remind Nataliya who was boss.

‘Yes. Understood,’ She responded, expecting the call to end.

‘Oh….and…Agent Nightingale?’ the voice added, almost in admiration.

‘Mmm?’ she hummed for him to continue.

‘Nice touch with the fainting. Good work.’ He chuckled.

‘Thanks, Bennett…’ She laughed as she clicked off the call and downed her vodka shot triumphantly in one. Another job done. Nataliya Kyle liked it when jobs got done.