David Bradwell [Bradwell - In the Frame
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For Carrie
In The Frame is the novella prequel to the Anna Burgin series of mystery thrillers, and introduces Anna and journalist Danny Churchill .
Photography student Anna Burgin didnt expect to be arrested, but shes the only suspect for a series of crimes, and the Police have found damning evidence in her room .
But Anna has no recollection of doing anything wrong. Was it a moment of madness? Or is somebody setting out to destroy her? And is the stranger in the bar really trying to help, or just part of an evil conspiracy ?
I didn't ever want to mention this again. I wanted to put it behind me, and pretend it never happened. But Danny finally persuaded me. He said it might help. Please don't judge me. I'm not a bad person, whatever anyone else may tell you. And if you can give me that at least, then maybe we can agree that this should never be discussed again .
O BVIOUSLY, having 10,000-worth of the polytechnics stolen photographic equipment hidden at the bottom of my wardrobe wasnt wise, but I didnt think the police would find it. Thats why I was happy to allow them to search my room. Maybe, in retrospect, that was an error .
I hadnt planned on spending my morning being arrested. I wasnt surprised it happened, though, especially given the overwhelming evidence against me. As the detective was keen to stress, Id been caught red- handed .
You were the only person in the photographic department last night, he said, so the only person on the planet with the opportunity .
And as for a motive? I was a student, so short of cash for drugs. Whats a little bit of robbery when you have a violent dealer to pay ?
Then, of course, there was the physical proof. I had the stolen goods in my possession .
Has anybody else had access to your room since last night? he asked .
No, I said. Definitely not .
There was no possible defence .
I was taken away for further questioning, much to the voyeuristic delight of my housemates, who seemed disproportionately beguiled by my state of discomfort. I tried to protest my innocence, of course, but even I had to admit that it was a cut-and-dried case. Bang to rights. An easy one for the jury. Throw away the key .
I pictured the headlines: Photography student Anna Burgin destroys glittering future in bungled Polytechnic heist. Not, really, my finest moment, but there was worse to come. Much worse. At the station I was informed that they knew exactly what Id been up to. The robbery had been definitively linked to similar thefts from other locations over recent months. All were likely to be added to my list of charges. Protesting was pointless .
I imagined the horrified look on my mothers face when I returned to Manchester in disgrace - assuming I could somehow avoid the extra ignominy of a prison sentence. Shed always wanted me to get a proper job, never been keen on me moving to London to pursue my passion for photography, and had warned about the dangers of the big city. She told me Id be throwing my life away when I was consumed by the capitals darker underside. I didnt know which was worse: the end of my liberty or the smug look of told-you-so when she heard the news .
But heres the thing. Ive never taken drugs. I dont have a violent dealer to pay. I didnt think the police would find the equipment because I didnt know it was in there. Id never seen it before, and despite the compelling evidence to the contrary, the robbery really wasnt me. I just didnt have the first idea how to prove it .
L IKE most young boys, Danny Churchill had always been fascinated by cars, but he never thought hed be involved in making them. He had big plans to be famous by the time he was twenty. The job at Sunderlands Nissan car plant would give him security for the next two years .
He had it all planned out. Songs written, album titles decided. Hed even designed a progression of labels that would appear on the centre of the vinyl, changing colour and theme as the bands logo evolved. Hed prepared what hed say in interviews, and envisaged every major TV appearance, from Saturday Superstore to Juke Box Jury and beyond .
The concept was simple but he knew it would work. At sixth form, hed persuaded his friend Chris to come on board. Danny would do all the music, Chris all the singing. Danny would stand looking all moody and mysterious, behind a bank of ever-more-impressive keyboards, while Chris would be the engaging front man. The bands name was Flag Day, and Danny planned to bedeck the stage with flags of various colours, adding vibrancy and movement and a clear visual identity. He was pretty sure he had it made .
The Nissan job gave him the money he needed to buy the equipment. Every new synthesiser, sequencer or drum machine would help move Flag Day ever closer to their ultimate destiny .
The summer of 1987 was filled with great optimism. Dannys girlfriend, Kate, helped to arrange gigs in pubs and live music venues throughout the north east. They played the Riverside in Newcastle on a battle of the bands night, although their synth-heavy electronica was not quite what the audience was used to. By the autumn they were rehearsing hard, and Danny booked a studio for two days to record four tracks for a demo tape. It was expensive but he was sure it would be worth it .
And thats when it all went wrong .
The studio days were long and demanding, and the band overran its allotted hours, before having the chance to make a final mixdown. Faced with the choice of a bigger bill or a demo that didnt do them justice, Danny opted for the former, even though it would mean selling one of his most valuable keyboards to fund it. It was a high price to pay, and made higher still the following day when Chris announced he was leaving to join a more conventional rock band. He took Kate with him .
It was a depressing situation, but there was no time to mope. Danny had two weeks to pay the studio, so advertised the synthesiser for sale in his local newspaper. A man called and said hed buy it, and made arrangements for collection later that day. He didnt turn up. He rang to apologise, explaining that hed been involved in a minor car crash and wouldnt now be able to proceed with the purchase .
Sorry, mate, he said, but I can do you a favour. My day job is the manager of Rock World in Newcastle. Do you know it ?
Of course. I bought a drum machine from you, said Danny .
Excellent. Well if it helps I can put the keyboard in the shop for you, and when we sell it, well give you whatever it goes for. No commission .
Grateful for the second chance, and with no other buyers on the horizon, Danny took the keyboard to the shop and was given a receipt. He called a couple of days later and was told thered been a lot of interest and he should ring back after the weekend. On the Monday, Rock World went out of business. The keyboard was nowhere to be seen. But because hed been given a shop receipt, Danny had unwittingly relinquished any claim against the manager and was instead an unsecured creditor of a failed business with masses of debt. Hed get nothing .
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