Chapter Text
i
Jackson Lamb had set his eyes on Charles Partner's PA Catherine Standish this time. Partner was as smug as they came, his PA an overworked ex-drunk who didn't have enough brain cells left to remember his face from the last jobs they worked together. The past few years, Partner had been nothing more than a desk jockey.
Standish, who he'd followed from work to the Co-op down the street, would be just as easy as the rest of 'em. Head in the clouds, hands full, clacking down the alley in her granny pumps. She wouldn't run. Wouldn't even scream, he bet—just whimper.
He kept his head down and his hands deep in the pockets of his worn, beige trench coat, kept his distance at first as she walked the underpass that shrouded the street in unforgiving darkness. It shielded them from the slight drizzle that had been pissing him off as he'd stood outside the Co-op, leaned against the brick wall, smoking, watching her through the shop windows. He sped up, aiming to bump into her in passing—all routine.
"Oh, bollocks! Sorry!" he exclaimed when her groceries came tumbling from her arms. Standish muttered curses under her breath as she bent over to pick them up. He came to her aid, gathered the items and in doing so, lured her towards the wall around the corner, hidden from view. He'd picked the spot earlier today, planned the whole thing.
He kept her shoulder bag for last; nice, sturdy straps he could wrap around her throat. She muttered a "thanks" and was about to be on her way when he called after her, "Oi, Miss! You forgot something." When she turned around, he was already behind her, backed her against the wall, had her there—vulnerable, helpless, cornered—and lifted his hands with the straps taut between them to her throat. Time slowed down, the adrenaline rush set in; her anxious eyes, his face so close to hers he could smell the mint on her quick breaths and yet… he couldn't go through with it. Put the bag back on her shoulder and gave it a firm pat. "There you go, have a nice one."
He left the scene and disappeared into the night, wondering what the fuck just happened. He'd never stalled. Not once. Not with his first. Not ever—until Catherine bloody Standish.