‘We’ll find her.’
He looked over his shoulder, gave them a hard stare, feeling like a pantomime villain. ‘Make sure you do. And remember, this woman you’ve brought in – if she wakes or speaks, kill her. No loose ends.’
He watched them scrambling back into the car, falling over each other to do his bidding, and smiled.
Like rats in a trap.
* * *
The office Elizabeth Beckett had summoned them to was located beneath a building on Great George Street. Various rooms were hidden away underground. What the others were used for, Caelan had no idea, but it would be high level, top secret. She had been there a few times now, but the marble floors, ornate plasterwork and crystal chandeliers were still impressive.
So were the armed officers stationed in the underground corridors.
They had been met just inside the entrance by a man, introducing himself as Simon, who asked them to follow him. As they crossed the ornate lobby, Caelan recognised a plain wooden door, tucked away beside a marble staircase. Anyone who even noticed it would assume it was a store cupboard, which was no doubt the point. Simon tapped on the door, and it was immediately opened.
‘You mean there isn’t a secret knock?’ Caelan raised her eyebrows. ‘I’m disappointed.’
There was no reaction from Simon as he stood back and waited for them to go through.
Beyond the door was a stone passageway, the air cool, a single unshaded bulb hanging above them. Penrith coughed.
‘I always expect to emerge in a cell in the Tower of London.’
‘Don’t give Beckett ideas.’
‘Beyond our budget,’ said Beckett from behind them. Caelan fought the urge to spin around. Where had she sprung from? The Assistant Commissioner passed them, held open the door to her room. Inside, grey walls and carpet added to the general air of gloom. The place was empty apart from a table and six chairs. A jug of water and six glasses stood ready. Beckett picked up the jug and filled three glasses.
‘Not expecting anyone else?’ said Caelan. Beckett gave a terse smile as she opened the briefcase she carried and removed a laptop.
‘Not in person.’ She readied the machine, and after a few clicks, the faces of the two men from the National Crime Agency they were supposed to be working with appeared. Caelan had almost forgotten about them. What the hell were their names? She glanced at Penrith, who raised his eyebrows at her. No doubt he couldn’t remember either.
Beckett nodded towards the screen. ‘Spencer Reid and Phil Webster. You met them a few days ago, and I’ve been keeping them informed of our progress.’
Caelan looked at the screen. Webster sat with his arms folded, the beginnings of a beard darkening his jawline. Reid rubbed at his eyes, hid a yawn behind his hand. Caelan got the hint – they were tired, no doubt had been working hard. Good for them. They were both sitting in a warm conference room, safe and comfortable.
‘We heard about your colleague.’ Reid shook his head. ‘Tough break.’
Webster stared at the tabletop, but Caelan caught the hint of a smirk on his face. She tensed, ready to challenge him, but Penrith’s foot landed heavily on hers and she contented herself with a loud exhalation instead. Beckett turned and frowned at her, but Caelan knew she would have noted Webster’s expression. Little escaped Elizabeth Beckett’s notice.
‘We’re here to discuss the Marcus Crowley situation.’ Beckett pulled out a chair and settled into it, nodding at Caelan and Penrith to do the same. ‘Can you explain why Crowley wasn’t on your radar when we first sent Nicky Sturgess into Edmonton?’
Reid tried a smile. ‘Maybe she could explain why she wasn’t aware of him, after spending time in the area, supposedly familiarising herself with the local dealers.’
Beckett didn’t miss a beat. ‘No doubt she could, if we knew where she was. If her disappearance is linked to this operation, I’ll need answers.’
‘As will our gaffer,’ Webster said. He leaned forward. ‘With respect, this isn’t our cock-up.’
Beckett looked down her nose at him. ‘Detective Sturgess was working with information provided by you, and your colleagues at the NCA. If she was sent in with half the intel she should have been, questions will be asked – by my superiors as well as yours.’
‘Not our problem.’ Webster looked unabashed.
‘Had you heard of Ryan Glennister before?’ Beckett’s voice was taut, her anger held in check, but only just.
Webster raised his shoulders a fraction. ‘Only as one of the local crackheads.’
‘And Marcus Crowley?’
Reid stepped in. ‘Look, if we’d briefed you on every drug user in Edmonton, we’d have been there forever.’
Caelan couldn’t help herself. ‘And that’s why you didn’t bother?’ Penrith’s foot gave hers another nudge, but she didn’t look at him.
Webster didn’t bother to hide his leer this time. ‘I suppose you’re missing Detective Sturgess more than most?’
‘Fuck off.’ Caelan was succinct.
Beckett held up a hand. ‘Can we get back on track?’
‘Gladly,’ said Reid, shooting his colleague a frown.
Webster sat back in his chair, unconcerned. ‘I’m not sure what we’re doing here, but yeah, go for it.’
‘You requested this meeting,’ said Beckett.
Webster wagged a finger. ‘Not me. The whole situation is a joke. I’m all for us forgetting we were ever involved.’
‘How professional of you.’ There was no mistaking Beckett’s contempt.
Webster inclined his head. ‘I’ve a career to think of. And a family.’
‘Nice prioritising,’ said Caelan.
Webster bridled, thrusting out his chin, ready to snipe back at her, but Reid turned to him. ‘Can we get on with this, Phil? I’ll remind you lives could be at stake here.’
Webster forced a laugh. ‘Why not? Things are fucked up enough already; we might as well finish the job.’
Beckett folded her arms. ‘Good to see you so optimistic. Now, Caelan. Explain what Marcus Crowley said when you spoke to him on the phone.’
Caelan leaned back in her chair, wondering why Beckett was involving the two jokers from the NCA. Webster clearly didn’t give a shit, and Reid, with his tight shirt and carefully styled hair, would do nothing to endanger himself or his reputation. They were irrelevant, and Caelan could only see them hindering their plans, not helping them.
‘Ma’am, could I—’ she began.
Beckett turned to look at her, her face impassive. ‘This was a joint operation from the beginning, and I’m under instructions to keep it that way. Tell us what he said, please.’
Caelan had no choice. ‘Well, he was happy to hear from me.’ She thought back to the call, Crowley’s animated tones. ‘I allowed him to think I was panicking, possibly getting itchy feet about selling my phantom kilo of coke. I said I wanted the deal agreed tonight, or I’d be disappearing with the goods.’
‘What did he say?’ asked Reid.
Caelan smiled. ‘That he’d have to make some calls. Less than five minutes later, he was back on the phone with a time for the meet.’
Reid waited. When Caelan didn’t elaborate, he said, ‘And?’
‘I agreed to it, told him I’d see him there. Came here as instructed.’
‘Now we need to decide how to play this,’ said Beckett.
‘I’ll need a sample. To show them. They’ll want to test it.’ Caelan rubbed her eyes, a headache beginning behind them. Not what she needed. She would need to play her role to perfection, be on top of her game. The rush of adrenalin that usually accompanied the hours before such an operation was absent. The hum running through her body, the sense of being hyper-aware and hyper-alert. Perhaps it was too early. Maybe, as she approached the meeting place, she would feel the familiar sense of control, of power.
‘Did Crowley say who would be at this meeting?’ asked Reid.
‘His buyer, or more likely, a representative of his buye
r,’ Caelan said.
‘Ryan Glennister?’ Reid was already looking sceptical, and Webster seemed to be hardly listening.
‘I assume so.’ Caelan couldn’t be certain.
‘But you don’t know for sure?’ Webster snorted. ‘Wouldn’t it have been better to speak to Crowley face to face, insist on hearing his side of the conversation?’
Beckett was stern. ‘We decided against direct contact, for operational reasons.’
‘In other words, you made a mistake.’ Webster grinned. Beckett’s nostrils flared, but she said nothing.
‘Where is the meeting?’ Reid had shifted his body, turning slightly away from Webster as though attempting to distance himself from his colleague.
‘Crowley’s going to text the location to me an hour before.’ Caelan knew this was less than ideal for their preparations, but she had been given little option. ‘The arrangements were made on the buyer’s terms, take it or leave it.’
‘And you accepted that?’ Webster looked incredulous. Caelan told herself not to bite.
‘I had no choice. This meeting could be our only chance of finding Ryan Glennister, and our two missing colleagues.’
Reid was frowning. ‘Because Glennister was involved in setting up the murder of Jackson Hobbs?’
‘It’s the only lead we have,’ said Penrith. He had been silent, watching Reid and Webster, his expression inscrutable. Now he leaned forward. ‘And I’ll thank you not to question my officers, or our methods.’
Caelan glanced at him. It was unheard of for him to publicly stand up for her, but also unwelcome. She could fight her own battles, and Penrith knew it. He looked back at her, and she caught the glint of mischief. Even now, with one of his team missing, he was doing his best to annoy her. Caelan ignored him, but Webster narrowed his eyes.
‘Because they’ve done an outstanding job so far, yeah?’
Penrith sat back. ‘In the circumstances, yes.’
‘Really? Get a bonus for losing officers, do you?’ Webster blew out his cheeks. ‘Unbelievable.’
‘You gave us little information and no support.’ Penrith’s smile was serene. ‘In my opinion, my officers’ progress has been more successful than anyone could have expected.’
Webster’s eyes widened. ‘You must have fucking low standards, mate.’
‘Can we concentrate on the matter in hand?’ Beckett glared at each of them in turn. ‘We agreed to this meeting out of courtesy, but we don’t need, or even want, your cooperation.’
Reid’s lips thinned. ‘Understood. What’s the plan?’
‘Caelan goes to the meeting, wherever it is.’ Beckett glanced at Caelan, the look hard to read. Apprehension? Disappointment?
‘She’ll be alone?’ said Reid.
Beckett spread her hands. ‘She’ll appear to be. It goes without saying that she’ll be supported.’
‘By?’ Webster sat up straight, as though hoping to be asked himself. Caelan wondered why he had been so bullish. At the previous meeting he had been abrupt, but civil. Now he seemed to be out to cause offence.
‘By our own officers.’ Beckett’s eyes were cold. ‘As I said, we’re here to share our plans, not to ask for help.’
‘I’ve been involved in stings before,’ said Webster. ‘Why not let me go with her?’
Beckett stared at him. ‘With respect, this is an undercover operation, not a drugs bust. Caelan is highly skilled, experienced. Her safety is our highest priority. Anything that might compromise it—’
‘I wouldn’t,’ Webster interrupted. He held up a hand. ‘Sorry. But we’ve been involved from the start. Joint operation, remember? Come on, I’ll stay out of the way.’
Why was he so keen to be there? Caelan wondered. Bringing down a major dealer would be a boost to his career, but he had done his bit. Maybe the sense of danger appealed to him, or the subterfuge. From the outside, donning a mask, stepping into character for hours, days or even months seemed glamorous. Caelan had quickly learnt the truth. Watching Webster beg to be allowed to join in and knowing Beckett would never allow it felt like a waste of time. They had four hours until the meeting. Four hours that, for Liv Hobbs and Nicky Sturgess, could be the longest of their lives. Caelan hadn’t allowed herself to dwell on the possibility that they were being subjected to the same punishment meted out to Ben Rainey and Anthony Bryce, but now her imagination provided a slideshow of horror.
She swallowed, attempting to shut the images down. Liv was pregnant, and Nicky… Nicky she had loved. Either of them suffering like the two men had was unthinkable. Why had they been snatched in the first place? There had been no demands for money or information. Nicky was hugely experienced, even more so than Caelan was. What had she done to draw attention to herself? Or was her disappearance unconnected to the case? Had she, as Penrith had suggested, simply walked away without looking back? Caelan couldn’t believe it. She wasn’t naïve enough to think Nicky wouldn’t go without saying goodbye to her, because she had done it before. But the job was her life. Nicky had lost friends, family and Caelan herself because of it. Arguably her work was all she had left. Where the hell was she? And what was happening to her?
‘You will not be involved.’ Beckett spoke quietly but with authority. Webster looked away, pouting like a scolded child. Reid glanced at him but said nothing.
‘You’ll let us know where the meeting is, though?’ Webster asked.
Beckett gave a tiny smile. ‘After it’s taken place, yes.’
‘This is our operation.’ Webster glared at her. ‘Now you’re going to grab the credit.’
‘This isn’t about credit; it’s about finding our officers, and the people who killed two young men. If we can bring a drug dealer in at the same time, so much the better.’ Beckett checked her watch. ‘We’re wasting time. We’ll contact you again later, when—’
‘When it’s all over?’ Webster spat. ‘When the fat lady’s sung? This is bullshit. I’ll be speaking to—’
‘Speak to whoever you want.’ Beckett was calm. ‘I’m telling you what’s going to happen, not asking for your permission. Caelan will attend the meeting. At the right moment, the rest of our officers will move in. Everyone present will be arrested.’
‘Including Caelan,’ said Penrith. He smiled at her. ‘Been a while since you’ve spent the night in the cells. Can’t let Richard have all the fun, can we?’
‘You’re going to arrest her too? To preserve the cover story?’ Reid blinked. ‘Seems a lot of trouble to go to.’
‘To protect her identity, and yes, to keep the story going. At no point should anyone suspect that Caelan or any of our officers are anyone other than who they’ve been pretending to be.’ Beckett leaned forward, reached out a hand. ‘Thank you, gentlemen. We’ll speak again later.’
‘But—’ Webster began. Beckett cut the connection, the screen darkening.
‘Goodbye,’ she muttered. She turned to Caelan and Penrith. ‘A waste of time, but we have to play nicely with them.’
‘Why do you think Webster wanted to tag along?’ Penrith asked.
‘Fancies himself as an undercover cop. I’m surprised Reid didn’t ask to be there too. He’s ambitious, confident.’ Beckett raised her eyebrows. ‘And totally unsuited to our work. Neither of them would last an hour in the field. Anyway,’ another glance at her watch, ‘let’s talk about what’s going to happen.’
Caelan waited as Beckett and Penrith made their plans. Her job, meanwhile, was to prepare herself, to ready her mind for the task ahead. It wasn’t easy. There were so many unknowns, and with them came the room for error, even for disaster. She knew that however much Beckett and Penrith discussed the meeting, in truth she was going in blind.
Blind, alone and underprepared.
Again, walking away from the job while she still could, looked extremely appealing.
31
Crying quietly, Liv Hobbs tried to peer into the darkness. The door had opened again, how long ago she couldn’t have said. She thought there
had been at least two men, but as they hadn’t had torches, she couldn’t be sure. They had carried something in, grunting and cursing under its weight, the meagre light from outside allowing Liv a second to see what it was. A large, heavy shape, wrapped in blankets.
A human-sized shape.
Allowing it to slump to the floor, they had gone without even glancing at Liv. She had tried to lean forward, willing her eyes to see through the gloom.
A body.
She was certain they had left her here with a dead body. Though the traffic noise outside made it impossible to be sure, she couldn’t hear any breathing other than her own. Panic hurtled through her, and she screamed against the makeshift gag. She saw dead bodies frequently in her working life, but being locked in a room with one was a new and entirely unwelcome experience.
She forced herself to take some deep, shuddering breaths. Blinking away tears, she waited, willing whoever was there to speak, or even to breathe.
Nothing.
Liv closed her eyes. Where would this end? She knew she had only been here a matter of hours, but she was a police officer, for Christ’s sake. Why weren’t they looking for her? Where was Adam? And why the hell had she been abducted at all? What had he told her, the man who had fed her the sandwich? He’d said they were keeping her out of the way. But why? Liv frowned, working through the possibilities.
Anything to keep her mind off the prone figure in the corner.
Ben. It had to be.
She had discounted the possibility at first, unwilling to believe there could be a link. They had been so careful. But once he had told Anthony Bryce… In the end, he had signed both their death warrants. She had warned him, believing that once she had transferred away, he would forget about it all.
But clearly he hadn’t. Ben was dead, and the knowledge would cause Liv pain for the rest of her life. Who had he been talking to? And why was she sitting here, tied up, a prisoner? She knew nothing of what had happened after she had cut ties with him. She had her life with Adam – their child, their future. Ben was part of her past.
Tell No Lies Page 29