The Phantom Ritual (DCI Morgan Chester: Case One)

Chapter Twelve

The atmosphere in Canary Wharf was electrified with excitement for a late Friday morning. Men donned suits and strutted out of the tube station with briefcases in hand, and women trotted in high heels and pencil style dresses or skirts with their eyes glued to their phones. All were anticipating the exciting day ahead.

Elliott felt out of place in his smart casual attire.

After the birth of his daughter, Mauve, he contemplated leaving the SCU and working a typical desk job that would ensure he would come home safe to his family. He enjoyed meeting new people and working in a team. But his heart knew he had to stay with the SCU; they were also his family.

Elliott entered through the glass revolving doors at One Canada Square and strode towards the long marbled reception desk. The lifts behind the desk had lines of workers waiting impatiently to get to their office.

"Good morning, how can I help?" the receptionist asked as she flashed him a fake smile. Elliott could see the layers of makeup she wore and how her neck was a shade darker than her face.

"I would like to speak with Mr Frankie Collins. I understand he works on floor 12." He cooly replied.

"Do you have a meeting scheduled with Mr Collins?" she asked as she typed her acrylic nails on the keyboard. The noise made Elliott shudder.

"I do not, but I must speak with him today." He asserted.

"I am sorry, sir, but you cannot enter without a scheduled meeting. The company has not confirmed any authorisation." Her tone was snarky.

Elliott thinned his lips, pulled the badge out from his coat pocket and placed it in front of her on the desk.

"I am sure this provides enough authorisation."

Her eyes widened, and she punched a number into the office phone next to her computer. She relayed Elliott's information to the other end and nodded before she hung up.

"Mr Collins is currently in a team meeting but will be down in the next ten minutes. If you would like, you can take a seat in our waiting area, and I will point him in your direction when he arrives." She replied professionally before slipping him a visitor's pass.

She spelt his name as Elliot.

He tucked the folder under his arm and headed to the leather two-seaters placed by the floor to ceiling windows. The bustling life of Canary Wharf passed him as he waited.

Frankie Collins came out of the meeting feeling elevated. His daily goals were planned out, and he was close to hitting his monthly target. A bonus would be given to him as a reward for his hard work.

Today will be a good day, he thought.

He unbuttoned his blazer as he took a seat at his desk. Two months ago, he was promoted and got his own office that looked over the tube station. A bleak winter day played out in the window behind his desk. He turned in his chair and enjoyed watching people lingering before departing to their destinations.

The office secretary knocked sheepishly on his door.

"There is somebody downstairs in the main reception for you." She announced.

Frankie's forehead creased. He was not expecting anyone until the afternoon for a lunch meeting.

"Do you know who it is?" he asked as he started flicking through his diary. Was his client moved to an earlier time?

"It is a detective. Erika said he wants to speak with you, and it seems urgent."

He thanked her and got up from his chair, straightened his blazer and grabbed his phone with his building pass before he left the office. The lift was slow going down to the reception. He tapped his foot impatiently as the lift descended. His mind raced, and his heart skipped beats.