Deadly Vengeance: A gripping crime thriller full of twists and turns (Detective Jane Phillips Book 3)
Page 19
Phillips nodded, but remained silent as she held her breath.
Saxby checked his watch theatrically. ‘Right. Well, as the chief constable is expecting me, I’d better be getting back.’ With a broad smile, he turned and marched towards his car.
Phillips watched him walk away and shook her head. ‘Prick,’ she muttered under her breath, then jumped into her car.
37
Phillips sat, with Jones and Entwistle, waiting for Saxby in his temporary office. He finally arrived, fifteen minutes late for his own meeting. She was in no doubt it was deliberate, a power play to show who was in charge.
‘Sorry. The chief constable kept me talking,’ he said as he strode into his office with the air of a strutting peacock. He took a seat behind his desk. ‘Right. Let’s talk about tonight’s drop, shall we?’
Phillips had called Entwistle as soon as she left the Hawkins’s home, and in the last hour, he had used Google Earth to download detailed satellite images of the area. He passed the copies around now.
Saxby pursed his lips as he inspected his.
‘Looks surprisingly open, sir,’ said Jones, looking at the terrain. ‘I have to say, it does seem an unnecessarily risky location the gang has chosen.’
‘My thoughts exactly,’ said Phillips.
Saxby laid the printout on the desk and reclined in his chair. ‘Like I said to Sir Richard, they’re military men, trained to operate in this exact terrain.’
‘Yes, of course,’ said Phillips, ‘but only when the operation dictates it. Surely no unit would knowingly expose themselves in this way. Not if they were in control of the location. Not if they didn’t have to.’
Saxby folded his arms across his chest. ‘I’m sorry, Phillips. Are you basing that on your vast military experience?’
Phillips sat forwards in her chair and slapped the back of her hand on the printout. ‘You don’t have to be military trained to realise that a drop location, with limited roads in and out – and surrounded by woodland – is not a good place to pick up heavy bags of money. Even though they’ve explicitly said not to, the gang will know that Hawkins will bring us in. Which means they are expecting armed police. And where better to hide a sniper than in the forest? It just doesn’t make sense. It’s almost as if they’re deliberately making it hard for themselves.’
‘Nonsense, Phillips,’ Saxby scoffed. 'They are doing what they’re trained to do. The cover of woodland works both ways. Depending on their level of training and experience, they could easily use it to their own advantage.’
‘I’m sorry sir, but I have to agree with DCI Phillips. It doesn’t make sense to me either,’ said Jones.
‘Well you’re hardly going to disagree with your boss, are you?’ spat Saxby.
‘Yes, he bloody well would,’ said Phillips, ‘because that’s how we work in MCU. If one of us thinks something is wrong, we say it. We don’t stand on ceremony. It’s all about getting the right result.’
Saxby waved away her protest. ‘Well, I can assure you, that’s exactly what we’re going to get tonight – the right result.’
Phillips felt her blood begin to boil. She was tempted to continue the argument for the hell of it, but knew it would be in vain. People like Saxby never listened to reason. This operation was just part of a game to him, a way to make a name for himself; to further his reputation in the Met. For a moment, she contemplated leaving him to hang himself with his own incompetence. But that could prove fatal for Hollie, and there was no way she could let that happen.
‘I’d like Jones and I to be included in the surveillance team,’ she said.
‘That won’t be necessary. I’m bringing in my specialist team from London. They’re en route as we speak,’ said Saxby.
Knowing how much he thought of himself and his buddies in the Met, Phillips had anticipated such a move and was ready with a counter-argument. ‘Specialists or not, if they don’t know the local area, they’ll be at a serious disadvantage. That’s where Jones and I can help. Having two coppers from Manchester on the team will improve your chances of this operation being the big success you want it to be,’ she said, deliberately playing to his ego.
‘So how exactly will having two locals on the team help?’ said Saxby.
‘Have you ever been to the High Peak?’ asked Phillips.
‘No.’
‘Well, let’s just say, it’s pretty unforgiving terrain. Jones and I know it well, and we can help your boys navigate it.’
‘That’s why we have satellite navigation,’ said Saxby.
Phillips chortled. ‘You really haven’t been up there, have you?’
‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’ Saxby appeared affronted by the remark.
‘It means that Sat Navs rarely work up in those hills. And at this time of the year, when the weather can change in a heartbeat, all it takes is one wrong turn and you could end up in the middle of nowhere. The bottom line is, you need people who know their way around, or your operation could easily go tits up.’
Saxby took a long moment to respond, then finally nodded. He sat forwards again. ‘Very well. You’re in my team, but you follow my orders to the letter. Are we clear?’
Phillips nodded. ‘Yes, we’re clear.’
‘In that case,’ said Saxby, ‘here’s how it’s going to play out…’
Fifteen minutes later, after hearing Saxby’s plan for the operation, Phillips, Jones and Entwistle left his office on the fifth floor and made their way back to the incident room on the third floor. When they got back, they shut themselves away in Phillips’s office.
‘This guy’s gonna get Hollie killed,’ Jones muttered as soon as the door was closed.
‘That’s why I wanted us involved in the surveillance operation. I mean, what use is a bunch of guys from central London in an area like the High Peak?’
‘Good call, Guv. I’m glad you did that.’
‘Yeah. But I can’t say that I’m very impressed with his plan for the op. His confidence that everything will go absolutely according to plan worries me.’
Jones nodded. ‘Me too.’
‘So while you’re on the op, what can I do, Guv?’ asked Entwistle.
Phillips sat down at her desk and took a moment to crystallise her thoughts. ‘I’ve been starting to consider that we may be too focussed on the fact the team have military training. Is that blinding our judgement? I mean, there was a time when we suspected Bahmani was somehow involved.’
‘Do you think he still is?’ asked Entwistle.
‘I really don’t know, but it can’t hurt to keep an eye on him.’ Phillips looked at her watch. It was 12.30 p.m. ‘Entwistle, you’ve got the whole afternoon to find out which of his lairs he’s hiding out in today. Once you locate him, stay on him. If he’s involved in this, I can guarantee he won’t be able to stay away from four million quid for very long, and that may just lead us to Hollie.
38
For the purposes of the surveillance operation, Phillips and Jones borrowed a pool car from the fleet team. They had chosen a standard edition Volkswagen Golf, the best-selling and most common car on UK roads – the idea being to try and blend in as much as possible.
As the time approached 9.35 p.m., they waited on the long tree-lined street, approximately three hundred meters away from the Hawkins home. A motorcycle was stationed a few miles down the route, along with another car, both of which were manned by Saxby’s team from London. It had started to rain heavily, and fog was forecast for later that evening.
Saxby, who was using the callsign ‘Team Leader’, was in a control vehicle near the drop site, and had been barking orders over the radio for the last half hour. Phillips had turned down their monitor for the moment. Nothing he had said so far had been of any value, and she was tired of hearing his voice.
‘Any further updates on Bov?’ she asked.
‘Izzie says there’s no change just yet, that the next forty-eight hours will be critical,’ said Jones. ‘They still can’t get th
e swelling on his brain to go down. Until they can, the doctors want to keep him in an induced coma.’
‘Jesus. I still can’t believe it,’ said Phillips. ‘Especially not Bov. He always seemed indestructible.’
‘Yeah, he did.’
At that moment, her mobile rang. It was Entwistle. As she answered it, she switched it to speaker so Jones could listen in.
‘How are things at your end, Entwistle?’ said Phillips.
‘Quiet as a mouse, Guv.’
‘Are you still outside the snooker hall?’
‘Yep. He’s been in there for three hours. From where I’m parked, I can see the front and back of the building. A few cars have come and gone, but nothing out of the ordinary.’
‘Ok. Well, we’re about to set off with Sandra in the next few minutes. If anything changes, call me immediately.’
‘Will do, Guv,’ said Entwistle, then ended the call.
Phillips and Jones sat in silence as they waited for Sandra Hawkins’s car to emerge from the automatic gates.
‘I still don’t like this drop location, Jonesy,’ said Phillips.
‘Me neither. But what can we do? Saxby’s acting as if he’s bloody Montgomery chasing down Rommel in the desert.’
Phillips folded her arms across her chest. ‘That’s what I don’t understand. Surely the fact that he’s ex-military should mean he can see something’s not right with this picture.’
‘Not necessarily. He’s an ex-officer, isn’t he?’ said Jones.
‘What do you mean by that?’
‘Well. A couple of my cousins were in the Army, and according to them, not all officers were made equal. Some were amazing soldiers with incredible leadership skills. Men you’d run through walls for. But then again, some, and I quote, “…were just a bunch of twats from university who liked getting dressed up for dinner.”’
Phillips laughed out loud. ‘Well, I think that just about sums up Major Harry Saxby, don’t you?’
Jones chuckled along. ‘Yeah.’
‘Seriously though, I have a really bad feeling about this op. The kidnappers must know we’re involved after what happened to Bov. I’m sure they’re playing with us. We wait seven days for the details of the drop, then they send us out to the middle of nowhere. I’m not buying it. We’re being led to that location for some reason – and it’s not to find Hollie.’
‘But that’s where the money’s going, so that must be the drop point.’
Phillips stared out of the window for a moment, then started scrolling through the contacts in her phone ‘Screw it. We need some proper military expertise on this.’
Jones raised his eyebrows. ‘Who are you calling?’
‘Robbins.’
‘Shit, Guv, that could get you in a lot of trouble. We still don’t know for sure that he’s not involved.’
‘He isn’t, Jonesy.’
‘But how can you be sure?’
‘Call it instinct. He’s not the type,’ said Phillips.
‘Even if he’s not, Guv, sharing confidential information with a member of the public? That’s a career-ender.’
‘Only if it gets out. And you and I aren’t going to say anything, are we?’ Phillips hit dial.
Once again she switched it to speaker to enable Jones to hear what was being said, but the phone eventually rang out and went to voicemail. She tried again, but got the same result. On the third attempt, she left a message. ‘John, it’s DCI Phillips. I need to speak to you urgently. Can you call me the moment you get this? Thanks.’ She ended the call. ‘I wonder where he is?’
‘Well, let’s hope he’s not on his way to the High Peak,’ Jones said with a wry grin.
‘Piss off!’ Phillips playfully punched his arm.
Just then, the gates to the Hawkins house began to open slowly. Jones activated the windscreen wipers just as the large Range Rover edged out and stopped for a moment at the curb before pulling out onto the street. It headed off towards the M56, and the road to the ransom drop.
Jones pulled the car out and set off as Phillips reached over and turned up the volume on the radio. She grabbed the handset. ‘Team Leader, this is Zero Four. We have eyes on the target. She is heading westbound on Netheredge Lane. We’re following.’
‘Roger that, Zero Four,’ said Saxby over the radio.
39
For the next forty-five minutes, Phillips and Jones continued to take their turn at the head of the surveillance team, rotating with the second car and the motorbike, keeping Sandra Hawkins’s car in sight – despite the heavy surface water on the roads. Throughout their journey, they had maintained constant contact with Saxby, plus the other team members, and there had been nothing to cause concern. Things were going according to plan. Still, Phillips could not let go of the foreboding in her gut, the sense that this drop was all wrong.
As the motorways turned to B roads, it became harder to tell if they were being followed, but as they moved through the small suburb of Brookfield, each operative reported a clear route and no issues. They edged closer to the market town of Glossop, at the base of the High Peak. Saxby had agreed that once the convoy reached that point, Phillips and Jones, with their knowledge of the terrain, would be responsible for following Sandra Hawkins for the final leg of the trip up Snake Pass.
‘I’m still not happy about this,’ said Phillips.
‘All good so far, though, Guv.’
Phillips’s phone began to ring. It was John Robbins. She answered it, and switched it to speaker. They had only a matter of minutes to spare before they took point, at which time she would need to narrate every step of their journey to the rest of the team. There was no time to waste.
‘John, did you get my voicemail?’
‘Yes. Sorry about that. I left my phone in the car. I’ve just been to get it and—’
‘Are you near a computer?’ said Phillips, cutting him off.
‘Yes, I’m at my desk.’
‘Right. I want you to key in some OS coordinates. Can you do that?’
‘Sure. Go ahead.’
‘They are, Sierra Kilo 1-4-2 9-0-1.’
Robbins repeated them back to her as he typed, then pressed return. ‘Got it. They take you to a field in the High Peak.’
‘Yeah. We know. It’s the location for the ransom drop. We’re heading there now.’
‘Seems an odd place to choose.’
‘Why do you day that?’
‘Well, I can’t speak for them, but I wouldn’t choose a location like that. It’s way too exposed, and there’s very few ways in or out – unless they plan to yomp over the hills once they get the money, that is.’
‘Would you want to yomp ten miles with 50 kilos of cash on your back?’
Robbins chortled. ‘Not a chance. That’s a young soldier’s game. Those days are long gone for me. Plus, in this weather, even the most experienced soldier could suffer exposure at that elevation.’
‘So why would an ex-military team send us up there?’
Robbins was silent for a moment, but Phillips could hear him rubbing his stubble close to the mouthpiece. ‘The only thing I can think of is it’s a decoy. That they have something else in play. Or – maybe they’re not actually veterans, and they don’t know what they’re doing, after all.’
Phillips glanced at Jones as they approached the crossroads in the centre of Glossop. Ahead of them, Sandra Hawkins had stopped at a red light. Jones’s forehead was wrinkled with uncertainty. They would take point from the crossroads as they ascended into the hills.
‘Thanks, John. Look, I’ve got to go,’ said Phillips, and ended the call. ‘So what do we do now then, Jonesy?’
As their car came to a stop, Jones feverishly checked each of his mirrors for anything untoward. Heavy rain battled with the windscreen wipers, which moved back and forth at full speed. ‘Like he said, could be a decoy, could be a cock-up on the gang’s part. Or…we may have to consider that he could still be involved, Guv.’
‘But if he is,
then why tell us it’s a potential decoy?’
‘I haven’t the foggiest. In truth, my head’s all over the place with all this.’
Acting on pure gut instinct, Phillips picked up the radio. ‘Team Leader, this is Zero Four. We have new intel that this could be a bad drop. I repeat. We have new intel that this could be a bad drop. I’m requesting we stand down and return to base.’
Saxby responded in a flash. ‘Zero Four. This is Team Leader. What bloody intel?’
Phillips knew she couldn’t admit to sharing the details of the operation with Robbins without suffering serious consequences. ‘The source wishes to remain confidential, Team Leader. But it is good intel. I believe we’re heading into a trap. Sandra Hawkins could be in danger. I request that we stand down.’
‘Zero Four. This is Team Leader,’ said Saxby, his voice laced with anger. ‘You will maintain your course, and you will not stand down. I repeat, maintain your course and do not stand down.’
Phillips closed the radio link and blew out her lips in frustration, just as the lights ahead turned to green, and Sandra Hawkins began to pull away.
‘Looks like we’re going into the hills, Guv,’ said Jones as he moved in front of the other surveillance car, and into the lead.
As they left the junction and headed along Sheffield Road, the road began to narrow, although it remained relatively well populated with shops, takeaways and houses. But once they’d navigated the final small junction and approached the start of what locals referred to as the Snake Pass, the road began to climb steeply. A thick fog was moving into the valley, and in a matter of seconds, visibility was severely reduced.
As they approached Hurst Road – the last turnoff for the next ten miles – Sandra Hawkins’s brake lights flashed on unexpectedly and the big SUV came to a complete halt.
Phillips grabbed the radio as Jones accelerated up the hill. ‘Team Leader, this is Zero Four. The target has stopped without warning—’
Before she could finish, the VW Golf hit something on the road. There was an almighty crash, Jones lost control of the car, and they skidded into a lamppost.