by M. A. Hunter
‘We’ll come to that. Can you talk me through what happened, so I can make some notes and determine how we take this forward?’
I recap everything that happened from the moment I got off the train at Weymouth. Cavendish listens intently, scribbling notes in a small pad as she goes, only interrupting to clarify points I’ve said. For all the difficulty she’s given me in the past, I can’t say she’s anything but professional and thorough with me now.
‘So Rick Underwood is involved with this group as well?’ she asks, her tone dripping with disappointment.
‘I’m afraid so. At least, that’s what he told me before one of the men he’d allowed into my flat attacked me. If you don’t believe me, phone Jack; he’ll validate everything I’ve told you about this group and what we’ve found.’
She lowers her pen and looks into my eyes. ‘I do believe you, Emma. Okay? But I also think we should get you looked over, just to be safe. We have a first aider in the station who can do a preliminary check, and if they have further concern about your health, we can request an ambulance, or take you to the hospital.’
‘That really isn’t necessary,’ I deflect, reluctant to leave the safety of the police station.
She picks up her pen again and rattles it against her teeth. ‘Three men were apprehended at your flat when the patrol car arrived. Rick Underwood had subdued two larger men and was escorted to the police station in Portland, where he’s made a full statement, which more or less corroborates what you’ve just told me. He specifically asked that we check on your whereabouts and make sure that you’re safe and well. He’s given up a burner phone that was used to make contact with his handler, and I’ll ensure the details are passed to Jack as soon as I can get hold of him.’
I’m not totally surprised to hear that Rick did remain behind, and I hate myself for it, but I do have sympathy for what his future now holds. How stupid is that? He used me and put my life in harm’s way, and yet I’m pitying him. I suppose it’s because I had considered the possibility of a future with him, and that thought sickens me now to my core.
‘The other two have refused to answer any questions,’ Cavendish continues, ‘and will probably be interviewed in the morning when their solicitor arrives from London. For now, I’d say you’re as safe as you can be. It isn’t standard protocol to allow overnight stays here, but I can probably find a free cell if you want to get your head down for the night?’’
After what happened last night, the last thing I want is to be anywhere near an enclosed cell, and I shake my head.
‘Can you keep trying to get hold of Jack, or DCS Jagtar Rawani? I’m concerned about their safety too. If the group thought to come after me, then…’
I don’t finish the sentence, as fresh fear explodes across my chest. Rick knew all about the break-in at Beauchamp’s, and how the files were copied when the alarm sounded. He knew I was there, and that Anna was with me. If they were prepared to send him and the goons to my address, what else would they do in their desperation to get the data back?
‘You need to contact the police station in Chichester,’ I shout with urgency. ‘My sister is in custody there, and I think her life might be in danger too.’
I can’t believe I didn’t consider Anna’s safety before. My first thoughts were Jack, Rawani, and Rachel, but she’s as big a pawn in this game too. What if I’m already too late?
Cavendish’s face tautens with confusion. ‘Your sister?’
‘Too long to explain. Please just phone somebody there and check that Anna is okay.’
She’s up and off her seat a moment later, heading to the front desk and switching on the computer there, searching for a number. I stand and begin to pace, my legs not allowing me to sit still.
Freddie watches on in silence, but I wish he’d offer me reassurance that everything is going to be okay, and that this anxiety peppering my mind is nothing but paranoia brought on by the shock of the attack.
Cavendish now has the phone to her ear, and is talking to whoever has answered.
This isn’t right; none of it is. Anna is just as much a victim in all of this – more so than most – and she shouldn’t be sitting in a police cell waiting for fate to roll the dice again. I’m not going to let her come to harm again.
Marching over to Cavendish, I cross my arms in muted defiance.
‘It’s okay, your sister is fine,’ she relays. ‘They’ve just tucked her in for the night. You can relax.’
‘That’s not good enough,’ I fire back. ‘Get DI Marina Oakley on the phone. I don’t care what it takes or who needs to be kicked out of bed. I want my sister out of that cell this minute.’
Chapter Forty-Five
Now
Dorchester, Dorset
Cavendish perches on the edge of one of the desks and reaches for the telephone. She’s moved us up to this dimly lit open-plan office where it’s more private and slightly warmer than the chill of the ground floor. I’m pacing because I’m too anxious to sit. I’ve stressed to her how important it is that Anna be moved to a place of safety, but the look on Cavendish’s face offers little optimism.
They came for me in my home, I can’t get hold of Jack and Rawani, and my mind is jumping to paranoid conclusions. What if it’s already too late and they’ve made simultaneous moves against the pair of them too? Together, we’re strong, but without them I’m a lone voice. Who’s going to believe the tinpot theories of a writer without corroboration? The only reason Monsters managed to secure an investigation against Francis Turgood was because Freddie, Mike, and Steve came together to share their brutal stories. I was just the stagehand pointing the spotlight on their experiences. Freddie’s claims had been ignored for years, until Mike and Steve backed him up.
I can’t do this on my own. I need Jack. I need Rawani. I need my sister.
Oakley isn’t answering her phone either. She told me Anna would be safe in Chichester, but now I can’t get hold of her. Why is nobody contactable?
Cavendish nods at me as the line connects, and my pacing halts instantly so I can listen to the conversation. She switches it to speakerphone.
‘Hi, this is Detective Inspector Zoe Cavendish from Dorset Constabulary, who am I speaking to, please?’
The line crackles with static.
‘You’ve come through to PS Nikesh Choudhury. I’m the duty sergeant. What can I do for you?’
‘Thank you, PS Choudhury. I am concerned about the wellbeing of one of your custody residents this evening. I – we – believe her life may be in danger.’
There’s a pause on the line. ‘Wait, where did you say you were calling from?’ Choudhury asks, his words tinged with cynicism.
‘I’m a DI with Dorset Constabulary, and am calling from Dorchester. I can give you my warrant card number if you want to verify it.’
‘Right,’ he says, elongating the vowel, ‘and you’re concerned about the safety of one of our occupants?’
I can only assume the slight chuckle in his tone is as a result of being the brunt of more than one practical joke in his time. I want to interrupt their conversation, to shout and yell that this isn’t a joke and that someone might be making moves on Anna already, but Cavendish’s eyes are warning me to keep quiet.
‘Her name’s Anna Hunter, and she was brought in earlier today on suspicion of burglary. I just need you to go and check on her, and confirm she’s well.’
‘Hold on,’ he says, and there’s the sound of typing nearby.
My feet have me pacing the well-worn carpet again. Freddie is sitting in a dark corner of the office, keeping out of the way, but I wish he’d grab me and tell me everything is going to be okay.
‘You said Anna Hunter?’ Choudhury’s voice comes back on the line.
‘Yes. H-U-N-T-E-R,’ Cavendish confirms.
‘There’s no record of anyone in custody with that name.’
I freeze, and my body temperature lowers as dread crawls the length of my spine.
Cavendish’s eyebrow
s arch as she glares at me. ‘There must be some kind of mistake. Can you look again please?’
‘Maybe Oakley listed her under the name Kylie Shakespeare,’ I call out to her.
‘PS Choudhury? Can you also check the name Kylie Shakespeare?’ Cavendish relays.
‘As in the playwright?’
I nod, and Cavendish is about to confirm, when the static disappears, and the line drops.
‘W-what happened?’ I stammer hurrying over.
Cavendish lifts the handset and stabs the receiver. ‘I-I don’t know,’ she replies. ‘The line is fine at this end.’ She redials the number for Sussex Police HQ, but it fails to connect.
The icy dread reaches my toes.
Cavendish tries again, but there’s no connection. ‘It could be nothing,’ she says unconvincingly.
My head snaps around to Freddie. ‘What if…?’
He races to my side and throws his arms around my shoulders. ‘Here, listen to me. Your sister will be just fine. They’ve probably just had a powercut or something. There’s no reason to assume that something’s happened. I mean, these people would have to be pretty stupid to make a move on someone inside a police station.’
‘Or desperate,’ I counter.
Cavendish hops from the desk and holds her mobile up to indicate she has a call, and heads away from the two of us as she answers it.
I grab the phone Rachel got for me and try Jack’s number again, but it’s still switched off, so I leave him yet another message, begging him to call me ASAP. Given how late it now is, I can’t believe he’s still with the anti-corruption unit, and it’s unlike him to leave his phone off. I’m trying to ignore the voices in my head, but they’re screaming so loud that I wish I was back on Weymouth seafront, running through the sand, and yelling at the world.
I picture Jack in that hospital bed after he was driven off the road. What if the same people have come back and finished the job? What if my meddling has stolen Mila’s dad from her?
Cavendish returns, but her face is ashen. ‘That was Gold Command,’ she says quickly. ‘Apparently, there’s been an attack on the police station in Chichester. An explosion of some kind apparently. All on-duty commanders are being contacted and warned to stay vigilant, in case it’s terror-related.’
My knees give way and I crash to the floor. No, not Anna. I’ve only just found her.
‘Are we safe here?’ Freddie asks Cavendish, coming to my aid and taking my hand, but allowing me to stay crumpled on the threadbare carpet.
‘Ordinarily, I would have said yes, but given what you’ve told me tonight… I don’t know. I think it’s in everyone’s best interests to get you to safety, Emma. Let me figure out where we can go, and then I’ll be back.’
She disappears out of the room, but I can’t speak as I look at Freddie. I know in my heart that this explosion isn’t terror-related, and now I need to get myself to Chichester ASAP. We’re hours away, but I need to see for myself.
I’ve never been this scared in all my life.
The Dorchester office has been a hive of activity since Cavendish received the call from Gold Command. She’s moved Freddie and me to one of the soft interview suites downstairs until she can arrange transport for us. My phone has no signal down here, so I have no way of knowing if Jack, Rawani, or Oakley have returned any of my calls. I don’t want to just sit tight and wait, but I also can’t be certain there isn’t a gang of armed conspirators waiting for me just beyond these walls.
I kicked the hornets’ nest and angered them. I’ve put us all in danger.
I can’t stop my mind replaying everything that’s happened these last few months. We kept pushing and probing, trying to expose those in the ring of paedophiles and traffickers so they could face the justice they deserved, but maybe I did underestimate the lengths to which they would go to keep their identities hidden. They’ve attacked each of us as individuals, but still I continued. We’re so close to unpicking the whole thing, and I’ve forced them to play their final card. Without Anna, we lose Daisy Beauchamp. Without Jack, we lose the NCA’s investigation.
I don’t know who’s left I can trust. I’m taking a huge chance in hoping that Cavendish is on the level, but what if she’s holding us here until someone arrives to finish us off? I trusted Oakley, but what if she was the one who told them where Anna was being held? I know my brain is leaping to irrational conclusions, but I had no inkling about Rick, and I’m not prepared to repeat the mistake.
But I swear now: as long as there is breath in my lungs, I will never stop fighting to expose every last one of them. I won’t allow their victims to continue suffering in silence.
I stand and move to the door.
‘W-where are you going?’ Freddie asks.
‘We’re getting out of here, Freddie,’ I reply, with more bravado than I’m feeling. ‘We need to get off the grid and plan our next move. I know somewhere we can go where they’ll never find us, but we need to move now. Are you game?’
He stands without hesitation. ‘You lead, and I promise I’ll do whatever I can to keep you safe.’
My eyes fill, but I don’t have time for emotion, and so I give him a firm nod and reach for the handle.
But it slips from my grasp as someone from the other side depresses it, and the opening door slams into my foot. I start and scuttle back across the room, my mind already picturing a masked assassin coming for us, but just as I’m searching for anything I can use as a weapon, I see Jack’s face in the gap, and I can’t stop myself rushing over to him and throwing my arms around him.
‘Oh, thank God you’re safe,’ I hear him whisper, his breath warm against my ear.
I can’t keep the tears at bay, and they blot between my cheek and his shoulder. ‘I thought…’ I begin to say, but I can’t finish the sentence, as he moves forwards and shuffles me out of the doorway.
‘We kept our phones off so they wouldn’t be able to track us,’ he adds, and peels me away to watch as Oakley enters the room, with Anna cuffed behind her.
My bubble of anxiety explodes, and I silently thank all the angels who have brought them to me safely. I break free of Jack and embrace Anna, the tears now flowing freely.
Anna keeps her shoulders tight, not yet ready to let emotion show. ‘So, is this guy your boyfriend then or what?’ she asks, nodding towards Jack.
Our cheeks flush, but neither of us speaks. I guess it’s too late for formal introductions.
Oakley clears her throat. ‘Jack called me and said he didn’t think Anna would be safe in custody, and then convinced me that we should move her. Just as well we did, based on what I just heard on the news. But I don’t think we can stay here either. We need to get you all to safety for a debrief and to plan next steps. Who’ve you been dealing with here?’
‘DI Zoe Cavendish,’ I just about manage to say.
‘And you trust her?’
I look at Jack, and we both nod.
‘Okay, I’ll go and find her, and then we’ll get moving. Something tells me there’s a lot you need to fill me in on.’
‘I know somewhere,’ I say, glancing at Anna. ‘Mum’s best friend Hayley still lives in Weymouth. She won’t bat an eyelid, and will be over the moon to hear that Anna is back.’
Jack lifts his phone. ‘I’ll let Rawani know to come and meet us.’
Oakley leaves the room, and I try to convince myself that everything will be okay now that we’re back together, but I still don’t know what the next step looks like. If the people we’ve been chasing were prepared to go on the offensive, I dread to think what else they have in store. And for the first time, I’m doubting the strength of the evidence we have. Will it be enough to convince Oakley and Cavendish to pursue an investigation or charges against Beauchamp and his cohorts? All I know is that I need to get things straight in my head before they’ll consider options. These next twenty-four hours are going to be critical.
Chapter Forty-Six
Now
Chichester, Wes
t Sussex
30 hours later
It’s cold enough out here that every breath emerges from our mouths in elongated clouds of white. I wouldn’t have it any other way though. Jack’s mouth is chattering away beside me, as excited as I’ve ever seen him, I think. Dressed in thick Kevlar, he’s busy telling me how privileged I am to be so close to the action of this unfolding scene. Up ahead I can see DCS Jagtar Rawani deep in conversation with the head of the armed response unit and, like Chess Grandmasters, they are hovered over a board, carefully placing their pawns ahead of this enormous game, while the head of the unit relays their instructions courtesy of a headpiece and microphone. From where Jack and I observe, we can hear those messages being received, and then carried out with discreet rustling.
I glance at my watch and see it’s nearly five in the morning. The sun is starting to peek through the clouds behind the large house in the distance, but if anyone inside happened to glance out, they wouldn’t see anything beyond the large screen that has been carefully erected around the estate to covertly hide the volume of activities underway beyond it. This morning’s endeavours have been carefully planned for the greatest impact, and most of those this side of the enormous curtain have been awake every minute of the planning.
Today marks the first chapter of Operation Cicada, and with Rick’s testimony hot off the press, Rawani’s plan is to cut off the snake’s head. Although he hasn’t admitted as much, I can see from the excitement in his eyes that he’s relieved his proposed retirement has been postponed. From our first meeting in his office all those months ago, I never would have thought that he would end up leading the charge. I wouldn’t trust anyone else to handle the reins.
Rick has accepted responsibility for his small part in trying to derail my own investigation, and whilst he can’t directly tie Beauchamp to the conspiracy, he has confirmed that the conspiracy exists, and has named a handful of others, which has helped identify the hierarchy. Like a house of cards, it will tumble. I hope one day I’ll find it in me to forgive Rick’s betrayal. Grudges are for those who don’t want to find closure.