I, Spy? (Sophie Green Mysteries, No. 1) (Sophie Green Mystery)

your own,” he said. “I have steak knives if you want self defence.”
    “Thank you. Now I have something to attack you with.”
    He sauntered over and pulled me to my feet. “Sophie,” he said, stroking my face, “don’t be mad at me. This is for your own safety. As soon as I have a handle on this, I’ll let you know.”
    “I’m coming with you.”
    “Out in public without a bra?” He traced the outline of my breast. “You wouldn’t.”
    “Try me.”
    He grinned and took my hands in his. “I’ll call you if I get anything,” he said, and pretty much before I’d realised what he was doing, he’d whipped out a pair of handcuffs and locked one bracelet around my wrist, and the other around the standard lamp by the chesterfield. “Stay where you are,” he added, stepping back quickly, and I lashed out at him, the lamp swaying alarmingly.
    “You bloody, bloody bastard!”
    Luke laughed and dropped the key in his pocket. He went over to the door and tapped in a code, shielding it with his hand so I couldn’t see, and slipped out. “See you later…”
    “Wanker,” I yelled, and I could hear him laughing as he set the external alarm. “Bloody arsing bollocking fucking wanker .”
    My phone was on the kitchen counter and I stretched as far as I could, but I couldn’t reach it. I glared at the lamp. The lamp stood there, looking heavy.
    I picked it up, my aching body protesting, and carried it over to the kitchen. A modern ball and chain. I suppose he thought this was funny.
     
    It took me most of the morning to free myself. The lamp was heavy and my back was killing me by the time I located a screwdriver in the cupboard by the door. I unscrewed the top and bottom sections of the lamp and presto! I was free.
    “Stupid bloody lamp,” I glared at it, then put it back together. I didn’t want Luke to figure out how I’d got free so easily. I put the screwdriver away and made more coffee while I thought.
    So. All the windows had laser sensors on them—he hadn’t been kidding, I could see the thin red lines. Good job he didn’t have a cat. There was the keypad inside the front door, and apparently one outside it as well. I could get one of his guns and shoot the damn things, but they were all unloaded, and I’d probably set the alarm off anyway.
    I could get the phone book out, call the roofing place downstairs, and get them to break in for me. No. No broken windows. I didn’t want to leave this place vulnerable and then get chewed off for letting it get broken into.
    I could call the fire brigade or the police, but that would bring me to the same place.
    I could call Luke and beg.
    I could try to disable the locks.
    Of all my options, the last one seemed the most appealing. But I had not got a clue how to. I told you I’m anathema to computers. Just when I think I’m starting to understand them, they shut down or reboot or do something incomprehensible.
    Then I had a brain wave. I got my phone, and dialled Five.
    “Sophie Green?”
    I took a deep breath. “Macbeth. I need a favour.”
    He laughed when I told him I needed to break out of somewhere, and laughed even more when I told him where.
    “So wait a minute. He’s got you locked inside his house without no clothes—”
    “I have clothes, but they’re his.”
    “Too bad it ain’t the other way round. I’d love to see him in a dress.”
    “But can you do it?” I asked. “Can you disable those alarms?”
    “Are they just alarms, or are they really locks too?”
    I looked at the one inside. “I think this one’s just an alarm. I think the one outside is a lock, like the ones we have at the airport.”
    “Windows?”
    “Laser sensors. I don’t know if they’re triggered to an alarm or if I’ll get shutters clanging down on me.”
    “Hmm. Where are you?”
    I told him, and he said he’d be there in ten minutes.
    I washed out my coffee cup, put all my things back in my bag and looked at the bunch of keys Maria had thrown in. There was Luke’s front door key—in duplicate—much good it had done me. I needed to learn the code from his front door before I could break in now.
    Macbeth knocked on the door nine minutes later. “I think I got this one,” he said, and the door clicked open.
    “I’m impressed. What did you do?”
    He held up a little gadget. “Scanned it. You want the code?”
    “Yes, please.”
    I wrote it down in my little diary, then the inside code too. I taped Luke’s original key back inside