Jack thanked Lee for his trust and stepped forwards to address the room. Mason was glad to be on Jack’s side; he reckoned being against him was probably a dangerous place to be.
‘The annual equestrian event next week is too good a target for them to resist. We have time to get this right. Charlotte will need looking after, so she should stay in the care of myself and Bevan. Bevan has a good rapport with her and won’t take any shit from Charlotte when she falters, which she will. The only thing we don’t know, and I’m sure Charlotte doesn’t either, is when this gang is here, where do they hide? Why haven’t we noticed them?’ he turned to Bevan. ‘We still need to check out the transient communities and visitors that move around the Cotswolds unseen; bus drivers, casual labourers, road workers, lorry drivers, tourists.’
Bevan nodded eagerly. ‘Yes, sir. We can track and collate visitor parking permits, temporary council contracts and acquisitions, B&B booking systems—’
‘Do this for me as well, please,’ Jack interrupted. ‘When I first arrived here, Oaks and I stopped at temporary traffic lights – there are loads of them all over the place, but why? Are they legitimate? I didn’t see any roadworks being done. Has this gang got the balls to actually control the fucking traffic to clear their escape route? I wouldn’t put it past them.’
Lee held a hand up. ‘I get the impression, DS Warr, that you’re giving all of us orders, while having another plan for yourself.’
Jack ignored the sarcasm. ‘I know the world De Voe lives in. I suggest that I go back to London and get on the inside. From there, I can do more. Oxfordshire is your territory, DI Lee. London is mine.’
Lee was clearly finding it difficult to fault Jack’s logic, so Jack gave it one final push. ‘Ex-prime minister Cameron is opening the equestrian event. His property hasn’t been hit yet – for one thing Charlotte doesn’t work for him – but I think all bets are off now, don’t you? Everyone will be out of their homes. Everyone is a target. Sir, if you think Barrowman will be grateful when we catch these bastards, just imagine the praise that’ll come our way from someone like Cameron.’
Lee didn’t respond immediately, asking Jack to pop into Gifford’s office with him whilst they discussed a few details.
Once the door was closed, he let rip. ‘Is that how you see me, Jack? With my head halfway up the most important arse in the county? You don’t understand: I’m not in this for the fucking kudos; I’m just seeing the bigger picture. The bigwigs that you insist on ignoring are the same people who have the ear of the DCI. That matters because, whether you like it or not, we’re answerable to them. One of us has to keep that in mind.’ He gave Jack a hard stare. ‘So, you go back to London, Jack. But you report to me daily and you don’t act without my say-so. This must be coordinated, or it goes tits-up in the blink of an eye. This gang has taken the piss for three years – they hire horseboxes from right under our noses in the name of Mr Smart, for fuck’s sake! We’re different coppers, me and you, and that’s fine, but if you can’t work under my lead, now’s the time to say so.’
Jack gave him his sincerest smile. ‘I can, sir.’
Lee nodded but still looked at him suspiciously, suspecting that Jack had somehow got the better of him.
*
Before Jack headed for London, he had one final conversation with Bevan. ‘I’m going to give Charlotte my mobile number and I want you to give her yours. But Charlotte’s not the weak one; Annie is and Charlotte will do anything to protect her. She needs to feel safe, so I want her to only communicate with us in the first instance. I’ll then feed the relevant information on to everyone else. I’m also going to get a burner phone; you’ll have that number, too. But just you.’ Although Bevan was listening intently, Jack could see that she wasn’t sure about the ethics of following his instructions above those of his senior officers. ‘Bevan, you’re one of the smartest, most painstaking officers I’ve ever had the pleasure of working with. We’re so close to the end. I need you to be my patient, logical brain over here, whilst I’m in London. Please. Help me to help Charlotte get out of this in one piece.’
CHAPTER 17
Jack let himself into the house and was met by silence. He didn’t call out in case Hannah was sleeping, but as he was hanging up his coat, Hannah’s little smiley face appeared around the door frame, floating about four feet off the ground! Penny was hiding as best she could, but Hannah was heavy and so her ‘little joke’ didn’t last long. Jack rushed forwards and scooped Hannah into his arms – she beamed and gurgled and kicked her legs so hard that she pushed herself away from his body. Although Jack and Hannah saw each other on Maggie’s phone daily, he hadn’t held his daughter for days.
‘She changed, hasn’t she?’ Penny said proudly. ‘You don’t think they can change much in less than a week, but . . . I’ll put the kettle on. You two catch up.’
Jack followed Penny into the kitchen, as she nattered away. This was something Penny always did when there was a serious conversation to be had at some point in the immediate future. She had to work herself up to it. When she was ready,
Penny turned towards him. ‘Now then . . .’ Penny waited until she had Jack’s full attention. ‘Maggie is at the hospital with Regina . . . she left the car for you. Join them if you can but, if you don’t have time, she’ll need a lift back at least. Regina went into very early labour. The baby was breech to begin with . . . upside down.’ Jack nodded. ‘Now, this is no one’s fault really; well, it might have been, I don’t know, because Regina was being seen by a junior doctor and they . . .’ Penny looked annoyed with herself and pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket. ‘I can’t remember the bloody name . . . Ah, right, so, the junior doctor used forceps, and doing that, they think, has caused bilateral Erb’s palsy. That’s damage to the nerves in the shoulder. So, the poor little mite is in a bit of a state at the moment. Oh, and she might be deaf, but they won’t know for a while. She’s in an incubator for the foreseeable.’ Having finally managed to deliver the terrible news about Regina’s new baby, Penny gratefully snapped back into grandma mode. ‘Bath time! You carry her up. Then I’ll put her down and you can go to the hospital if that’s your plan. Visiting starts at six.’
It took a while for Jack to trust that the little seat in the baby bath was capable of supporting Hannah without his help – and he was even more sceptical when Penny said that he could pour the water over Hannah’s face and she wouldn’t mind. But once he relaxed and realised that both he and his daughter would be fine, he began to enjoy bath time. He waved a plastic boat in front of Hannah, then he waved a fish and made a popping sound with his lips, then finally waved an octopus and made a clicking noise.
Penny suddenly howled with laughter as a memory popped into her head. ‘That’s from your dad!’ she laughed. ‘He didn’t know what noise an octopus made either, so he clicked and thought, that’ll do. I’d forgotten all about that. He could tell you anything and you’d believe him. That’s why he never lied to you about important things.’
The phone rang just in time to save Penny from another spontaneous crying session. They were far less frequent these days; but the grief still surprised her every now and then.
From the bathroom, Jack heard her tell ‘Simon’ that Jack was busy bathing Hannah, but that he’d return the call as soon as they’d finished. Jack gently chastised his mum when she returned, saying that Ridley was his boss and had every right to ask to speak to Jack during the working day, but he couldn’t help smiling nonetheless.
*
On the way to the hospital, Jack called Ridley back. Ridley was concerned whether Jack could safely get on the inside of De Voe’s operation in the space of a couple of days. ‘I’m going to go in as a buyer, sir,’ Jack reassured him. ‘Meet De Voe and assess the situation from there. He’s clearly a smart guy who keeps a good distance from the sharp end, so I’m going to take my lead from him.’
‘Fair enough,’ Ridley conceded. ‘Oh, and well done for sticking
to your guns with Charlotte, by the way. But be careful, Jack. Stubborn self-belief can come across as insubordination with you. I can hear you smiling, but you know I’m right.’
Jack was smiling now. ‘If you’re around tomorrow morning, sir, I’d like to come in for a proper tactical briefing.’ It was quickly agreed that Jack would be in Ridley’s office by seven. Jack then disconnected the call and pulled into the hospital grounds.
*
Maggie had her professional doctor’s head firmly on as she sat by Regina’s bedside in the small, four-bay ward, talking her through the potential complications she might expect in the coming months. But when she saw Jack at the window, a lump immediately formed in her throat, forcing her to excuse herself and leave the room. Taking Jack by the wrist she dragged him out of sight of Regina and then she leant heavily against the wall, and exhaled. Jack pulled Maggie’s head forwards onto his chest, supporting her weight as she sagged against him. ‘I’ve got you. Don’t do too much, Mags. You’re no good to any of us if you’re worn out.’ Maggie leant back, so they could look at each other.
‘How are Regina and the baby? Mum mentioned Herb’s palsy or something,’ Jack said.
‘Erb’s. E-R-B-S. There could be the option to operate but, if not, then it’ll mean paralysis. And it’s bilateral, so it’s affecting both arms.’ Maggie put the palms of her hands flat against Jack’s chest. ‘She won’t be able to lift her arms.’ Maggie put her hands round Jack’s waist to hug him tight.
When Maggie and Jack went back onto the ward, Maggie was surprised that Jack wasn’t saying comforting words to Regina; he just hugged her. Perhaps he didn’t know what to say, or perhaps he thought actions spoke louder than words – either way, Regina seemed grateful for his kindness, as waves of worry ebbed through her mind. Jack then asked the one question that Maggie had forgotten to ask.
‘How’s Mario?’
Regina had spent the past few days talking non-stop with various people about herself and the baby, but this was the first time anyone had asked about Mario, and she immediately burst into tears.
‘He’s working all the hours God sends, because if the baby turns out to be as poorly as she could be, we’ll need money. Truth is, he can’t earn enough in one lifetime to pay for all of the treatments, and carers, and medicines. And when he’s not working, he’s researching. Yesterday, he was telling me about a new, ground-breaking treatment in the US, where Doctors re-train the brain to use areas that are damaged. I don’t even know if that’s what we need! Maggie, do you know?’
Maggie assured Regina that no one knew enough just yet. For now, Mum and baby would be watched and looked after, day by day. And so would Dad, she added.
On the way out to the car, Maggie took Jack past the neo-natal unit. It wasn’t usual for non-relatives to be allowed in, but as Jack was with Maggie, the charge nurse made an exception. There were four incubators in the one room and the one nearest to the observation window held Regina’s baby. She was tiny, Jack thought, so tiny that instead of feeling how cute she was, he just felt fear for her future. ‘Jeez, Mags.’ Jack’s mind flashed back to two hours ago when he was holding Hannah in his arms. The baby he was looking at now was half Hannah’s size, if that. There was so much equipment surrounding her, so many tubes and lights and sounds. It looked like chaos. But all of the tiny, doll-like babies in the unit seemed to be sleeping soundly, oblivious to how precarious their hold on life actually was. ‘Is she . . . I mean, apart from her arms and the deafness, is she OK? Will she be OK?’
Maggie linked her arm through Jack’s and rested her head on his shoulder. She didn’t have an answer.
That night, Jack just watched Hannah sleeping for over an hour. He thought about Mathew and about Regina’s new baby, and how he and Maggie were so incredibly lucky.
*
Ridley pulled into his parking space at six thirty and then spent thirty minutes getting ready for his meeting with Jack, who walked into the squad room bang on seven. Ridley put two freshly brewed cups of tea on his desk and they got down to work.
‘Michael De Voe. I can confirm “no criminal record” – and that’s all I can tell you about him. I hoped to have been able to prepare a file for you, but there’s nothing.’ Ridley handed Jack a map of the Chelsea Emporium. ‘This indoor space houses thirty-four high-end shops and eateries. De Voe’s Jewellers is on the second floor. Shop number twenty-one. His other shop was out Camden way, but has recently closed down. I don’t have a picture of De Voe for you: there’s no social media, no local-interest news pieces on him – he keeps below the radar. Not what you’d expect for a man who’s just been accused of masterminding the biggest burglary racket this side of the Pennines. Or maybe it’s exactly what we should expect? Did you know that the total insurance claims from the Cotswolds burglaries over three years is estimated to be £7.6 million?’
‘But I think a murder means they have to wrap up and get out,’ Jack said. ‘One more big score. If we miss them at the annual equestrian event, that’s it. They’ll disappear forever.’
Ridley nodded. ‘So, what’s your plan for getting on the inside of De Voe’s world?’ Ridley looked Jack up and down. He was wearing the boots he’d bought for wandering through muddy farmyards out in the Cotswolds, along with jeans and T-shirt.
Jack grinned. ‘I’ll look the part, sir, don’t worry.’
*
That afternoon, Jack sat down to a full chicken dinner, with five different vegetables, gravy and bread sauce. Even though Maggie was the one who served it up, he knew this meal was Penny’s creation, as he believed no one else on the planet still knew how to make bread sauce from scratch. Penny sat with them to eat and then took Hannah out for a walk.
‘So . . .’ Maggie knew her husband inside out. ‘. . . are you playing nicely out in the country?’
‘Well, I met the Oxford Robbery DIs. One’s arrogant, the other’s a prick and, so far, they’re both guilty of culpable manslaughter. But, apart from that, yeah, it’s going well.’ Maggie refilled Jack’s empty wine glass. She then made a gentle observation about Jack always having had problems with those above him. She reminded him of how he once described Ridley as an anally retentive jobsworth, who couldn’t exist outside of the bureaucracy of law and order. Now, he was their daughter’s godfather!
‘Ridley didn’t change, Jack. You did. You grew to respect him. And you were very lucky that he’s a patient enough man to have waited for you to do that.’ Jack loved the way Maggie could tell him off so gently. Whenever they argued about unimportant things, like dirty socks being balled up and thrown behind the washing basket instead of inside it, she could be as loud and belligerent as the next woman, but when she had something serious to say, she was quiet and calm. This made Jack listen attentively to every word she said. ‘Who do you like?’ she asked.
‘DC William Oaks; I like him. He’s honest and eager. DC Cariad Bevan is a tour de force. I’d bring them both back here in a heartbeat. And there’s a uniform, Sergeant Fiona McDermott: she knows people. I don’t mean that she knows important people; I mean she knows her community.’
Maggie knew that Jack rarely butted heads with lower-ranking officers; he was great at both teaching and learning from people who were no threat to his position. But with the higher-ups it was different. ‘It’s just egos, Jack, and I include you in that. When there are too many in one room, sparks are bound to fly.’
Jack smiled in consternation. ‘How can you be so clever one minute and, the next, you’re putting the TV remote in the dishwasher?’
Maggie mopped her gravy with a slice of bread. ‘It’s a gift.’
CHAPTER 18
Jack beat Maggie downstairs for the first time since Hannah was born. He was dressed in clothes that suggested he was about to do some gardening. In fact, he was off on a surveillance mission, to get his first look at Michael De Voe.
From Google Maps, Jack had identified a small café directly opposite the Chelsea Emporium which catered mai
nly for tradesmen on their way to and from work – hence his choice of clothes. When they first moved to London, Jack and Maggie didn’t have a garden, nor did they think they’d ever be able to afford one; so, Jack resigned himself to never owning that long yearned-for, middle-class status symbol, gardening clothes! But since Jack’s ‘lottery windfall’ all that had changed. Their garden was an eight-square-metre lawn, with beds down either side waiting for plants; and a small area of decking with loose panels that bounced as you walked across them. It was north facing, and too short to ever get the sun, but they loved it and Penny promised that come the summer, she’d plant the borders and make it into a beautiful safe space for Hannah.
Jack sat in the café, wearing a battered old baseball cap and nursing a cup of tea. He wasn’t actually drinking, because he didn’t know how long the surveillance would last and he didn’t want to have to keep going to the toilet. By eight o’clock, the emporium shop owners began filtering in to receive deliveries and stock shelves. By nine, most shops were open for business. The emporium was an impressive glass-fronted building with advertisements in the windows for all of the shops inside. The advertisement for De Voe’s Jewellers marketed him as a ‘high-end dealer and maker of new and redesigned second-hand pieces’.
There was a security guard on the main door and a second security guard stood outside the attached underground car park.
Jack had Charlotte’s description of Michael De Voe, but no photo; he’d seen several men so far who could possibly have been De Voe, but he’d only know for sure by going inside and heading for shop twenty-one.
Jack left the café with the intention of first of all wandering around the emporium to get a sense of the layout and where all of the exits were on the off-chance that something had already gone wrong and they knew he was coming. He didn’t want to be stuck inside a rat-run with no way out. He decided that, once he felt safe, he’d do a couple of passes of shop twenty-one, before actually going in. He didn’t want to look purposeful; he wanted to appear as though he was browsing and had no specific destination.
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