by Jack Probyn
Pemberton nodded as she listened to Jake. ‘Leave it up to me,’ she said, shuffling her feet in the gravel until her foot disappeared underneath the stones. ‘I’ll deal with it my own way.’
His hands trembled as he pulled the Nokia mobile from his back pocket. Things were rapidly beginning to take a nosedive, and he didn’t know how much more control he had over things, if any. It was supposed to be a simple run. The Crimsons – the only name he knew them by – were going to rob the jewellery store, and all he had to do was make sure nobody found out who’d done it. But they’d said nothing about murdering someone, taking a hostage and wrapping a spiked collar round their neck.
The Cabal had told him it would be simple. A morning’s work, at most.
Now look where he was: beginning to feel like soon he’d be without a paddle.
He opened the address book, found the mobile number and typed out a message.
Not going well. Struggling. Need assistance.
A cry for help – he never thought he’d have to do that. What sort of impression would that leave The Cabal with? He stood to make a lot of money from this little act of corruption, and if he couldn’t make it a success, then there was no brand-new car, no extension to the house. There was nothing.
If he was going to make it a success, then he needed to pull his finger out and play dirty.
CHAPTER 38
CONFRONTATION
Pemberton stormed round the side of the house and over to Candice, parting the sea of officers either side of her. The helpless woman now sat on a garden chair that one of the explosives officers had brought across for her. She had her arms folded on her lap, and her expression remained still. Nothing had changed in the few minutes Pemberton had been gone.
‘Is everything OK, Detective?’ Candice asked hopefully.
Pemberton paused a beat before responding. How much did she want to let on? Should she trust Jake and follow his suggestions? Or should she deal with it her own way? She had too many voices inside her head clouding her judgement.
‘No, Candice,’ she said eventually. ‘You and I both know it’s not OK.’
Candice’s head frantically darted between Pemberton and both the explosives officers beside her. ‘You’re scaring me. What’s happening?’
‘Tell me about your acting career, Candice,’ Pemberton said plainly.
Candice’s eyes widened in horror. ‘What— I… er… what do you mean?’
‘You know, your acting career. The one you had when you left school. The one when you were in your twenties.’
‘I… How did you…?’ Candice swallowed, and her throat convulsed. ‘It didn’t last long. I had a couple of auditions for plays. Had a few minor parts, nothing major. I had to leave the industry.’
‘Why?’ Pemberton asked without giving Candice an instant to carry on.
‘Because…’ Candice swallowed again, this time lowering her head onto the metal plate of the collar bomb. She sniffed hard and her chest started to heave. ‘Because the director… I was starring in this Hollywood production. It was a small thing. Nothing… nothing major. Nothing like on the big screen. But it was my big break. And then… then the director called me to his dressing room one time after we’d just finished shooting for the day. He said I’d done really well. Said I was a real talent. Had a real career in acting ahead of me.’
‘Bet that was nice to hear.’
Candice glanced up at Pemberton and scowled. ‘It was. But he took it one step too far. He raped me. And I got pregnant.’
‘What happened then?’
‘I... I kept it.’
‘And what did your husband have to say about it?’
Now the tears came, but when Pemberton gave her no sympathy, she stopped. ‘I never told him it wasn’t his.’
Pemberton thought for a second. About the conversation she’d had a few moments ago with Miriam, one of the people in the office she’d considered her closest friends, one of the people she trusted most, one of the only people in the office to know about her affair. After Miriam had called to update her on Luke Cipriano’s identity, she’d uncovered the names of his brothers, Danny and Michael, and told her how all three shared the same father. Which, in Pemberton’s mind, meant it would be impossible for what Candice was saying to be true. There was no rape, there was no pregnancy, there was no birth.
Candice was lying.
Pemberton bent down on her knees, taking care not to split her trousers in two. She placed a finger on the grass for extra balance. ‘You know what they say about actors, don’t you? They make very good liars. After all, that’s what you’re doing, isn’t it? Lying. Pretending to be someone you’re not. And getting paid to do it as well. I think the director was right – you are a good one, and you probably did have a great career in front of you.’
Pemberton let the statement hang in the air in front of Candice’s face.
‘Please,’ Candice implored. She reached out and clawed at Pemberton, who threw the woman’s arms away. ‘You have to get this thing off me. You have to find the key. You have to save me.’
‘There is no key, Candice. We know what’s going on.’
The whites of Candice’s eyes brightened, her pupils darkening and dilating into small marbles.
‘Wh-Wha-What do you mean there’s no key?’
‘Your eldest son, Danny – he told us as much.’
At the mention of Danny’s name, Candice’s face dropped. It was a picture: the colour that rushed from her cheeks, the muscles in her face that contorted into a frown, her bottom lip quivering. Never before had Pemberton seen fear strike someone so coldly; she just wished she had a camera with her so she could relive the moment again and again. She took a mental image instead.
Candice shook her head frantically. ‘No. No. No, no, no, no. I don’t understand. You don’t understand.’
‘You can stop the act now,’ Pemberton said, standing. ‘The play’s over.’
‘No – you don’t understand.’ Candice scratched her scalp with her fingers and rubbed her eyes with the other. ‘You need to find the keys. Please.’
‘I told you, there are no keys.’
‘Find the fucking keys, you bitch!’ Candice’s voice carried across to the other end of the garden, rousing the attention of the officers in the vicinity. ‘Can’t you realise I’m going to die if you don’t get this thing off me?’
‘What are you talking about?’ Pemberton asked. ‘There are no spikes in there. There’s no detonator inside. You know it.’
‘There is. There are. For Christ’s sake there are!’
Pemberton retreated slightly. ‘Explain yourself.’
‘I lied. About the rape, about the pregnancy. The-They’re my sons. All of them. The Crimsons. Danny. Micky. Lukey. I gave birth to them at a bad time in my life and I hadn’t seen them for years. But after my husband died, they made contact, and I was ready to accept them for what they were. And then we staged today. But I had no idea that Danny was going to shoot Rachel. I had no idea. Each of them were in charge of different keys. Luke did the first one, but he hid it in a different place in the house – it wasn’t where we’d agreed. Micky was responsible for the golf course and Waverley Abbey ones. Danny should have left his key on one of the Dunsfold runways. He promised he’d leave it in plain sight,’ Candice said. Something caught in her throat and tears began to well in her eyes.
‘But he hasn’t, has he?’ Pemberton asked. ‘What’s he done with it?’
‘He’s kept it. Or put it somewhere else.’
Candice choked. Her chest heaved rapidly. She grabbed the collar and began to shake the device free from her neck, alerting the explosives officers. They rushed to her side and pinned her arms behind her back.
‘What happens now, Candice? Stop resisting!’ Pemberton whistled two nearby police constables to rush to their side. They straddled Candice’s legs and placed handcuffs around her wrists behind her back. ‘What happens now, Candice? We’re trying to help you.’<
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‘Get this thing off me!’
‘Tell me about the device. What will it do?’
Panting heavily, Candice said, ‘I don’t know. Danny built it. He told me the keys would defuse it.’
‘But how do you know there’s a charge in there? Why would he build it to be live? Why would he want it to activate those spikes?’
‘I-I-I don’t know. We agreed that the keys would disarm it, but when I heard you talking about remote detonation, that was when I knew that he wanted to kill me. I should have seen it coming when we were in the jewellery store. He held that gun in my face for too long. He had the opportunity to shoot me dead there and then, but he didn’t take it.’
‘Why would he want to kill you, Candice?’
‘For the years he’s been alone. For the years they’ve all been alone. I thought this was a way for me to rebuild their trust. A way for me to come back into their lives. After my husband died, I had nothing, no one. But when they made contact with me, I thought we were going to be a family again. We were all going to leave the country and never look back.’
‘Leave the country?’ Pemberton repeated, her voice turning shrill.
‘That’s what we agreed. To get on a boat out of here.’
I don’t believe it.
‘Where?’
Candice shook her head. ‘Please. You have to get this thing off me. I’ll help you find them. I promise I will. Whatever it takes. I don’t want to die. I’ll help you – but I need you to promise me something first.’
‘What?’ Pemberton asked. Her mind wasn’t with it. She was in disbelief. Jake Tanner had been right about everything. There was no possible way he could be working against them.
‘I want you to promise that nothing will happen to Luke or Micky if they’re caught. Danny’s the one who should be done for all of this.’
‘And if we refuse that?’
‘Then I won’t tell you where they are or where they’re going to be.’
‘And you won’t be alive to see their trial.’
CHAPTER 39
DAD
Jake’s body tingled as he felt the stress and tension slowly dissipate in his shoulders the way a drop of blood spreads through water. He’d just finished explaining to Bridger what Freddy had told him – about where the Cipriano brothers were headed, and that there was an internal force opposing them – and the brief information Danika had relayed about Roger Heathcote.
‘You have to be careful believing everything you hear,’ Bridger told him, his wise words warming Jake. ‘Freddy might have been telling you that just to confuse you. He’s still a criminal, don’t forget.’
The smell of the strawberry Jelly Bean car freshener dangling from the rearview mirror reminded Jake of his own one, but it was tinged with a slight chemical smell – from somewhere in the car or outside world, the smell of bleach seeped through the fabric and reached his nostrils. Disregarding it, Jake shuffled deeper into Bridger’s leather seats and contemplated, casting his mind back to 2006, when he and Elizabeth had been planning to buy their very first car. To the trip to the bank that had been cut short by The Crimsons and their raid on the Oxford branch of HSBC. He tried to think of the experience he’d had afterwards, dealing with the police and the subsequent investigation. Whether it was possible that someone had been working to help them even then. But there was nothing. He even tried to think of the plethora of case files and notes he’d memorised from their previous three heists before Oxford, whether there were any anomalies in there.
And then it dawned on him.
The Crimsons’ first heist in Newcastle. There’d been an issue – a flawed escape, and a subsequent high-speed pursuit. But one of the police officers involved in the pursuit had cut up another police vehicle, and The Crimsons had been able to flee the city. It had been investigated but it had been put down to an accident, no serious foul play. Was that enough to convince Jake that everything Freddy had said was true?
Jake explained his theory to Bridger.
The man’s face remained the same as he listened, his eyes focused on the road ahead, silent, nodding his understanding every now and then. Eventually, after Jake had finished, he scratched the underside of his chin, tickled the top of his Adam’s apple, and said, ‘Some people just want to watch the world burn, don’t they?’ He glanced at Jake. ‘Don’t go overthinking it, but I suggest you and I be extra cautious of everyone and anyone now. I never thought I’d say this, but I think you might be right.’
‘Do you have any idea who it could be?’
Bridger shook his head. ‘Wouldn’t want to guess. I know these people – I don’t want to accuse them of anything until I know more.’
‘How do we do that?’
‘We wait and see how things progress. If anyone makes any obvious attempts to throw the investigation, then we’ll have our answer.’ Bridger paused, chewed the inside of his cheek. ‘But if I had to guess… and this is just my gut instinct…’
‘Yes?’
‘You’re not going to like it.’
‘I don’t like it either way.’
‘I think you should be careful of Danika.’
Jake felt like he’d been slapped round the face twice, on both cheeks, extra hard. Danika? No, surely not. It was unfathomable, it was—
‘Why?’
Bridger massaged the steering wheel as he prepared himself to speak. ‘Before you guys started,’ he began, ‘Pemberton sat me down and told me I’d be supervising you both. She gave me a handful of reports – your personal files – and suggested I read them. So I did. Spent the entire evening on it, truth be told. And, well… Danika’s made for interesting reading. Her and her husband, in particular. They’re both going through external counselling, and Danika’s going through personal therapy through the service.’
Bridger took a moment to pause, and Jake joined him. This was all new to him – he felt like he didn’t truly know his friend at all.
Bridger continued: ‘Anyway, after you told me about Roger Heathcote and his background, I just… well, I put two and two together. Woman seeking divorce meets wealthy family lawyer meets organised crime group meets happy ending. Danika helps them escape, Heathcote gets his five minutes of fame, they each take a share of proceedings and they’re all happy. After, Danika can pay for a divorce, or run away with the kids and, well…’
In the time that Bridger had been speaking, Jake had zoned out, only half aware of what was being said. His mind was in a brief state of shock, a blank canvas, devoid of any thought.
‘Sorry,’ Bridger said, luring Jake back to the present. ‘Sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.’
‘No.’ Jake held a hand in the air to no one. ‘You… you were right. Some people just want to watch the world burn.’
Jake lifted his head and looked out of the window. According to the satnav, they were fifteen miles away from Portsmouth, on the M27 heading south with mile upon mile of open road in front of them. As they passed over the River Hamble, Jake’s mobile rang, offering him a chance to forget about what he’d just heard.
‘Jake?’ It was Elizabeth.
‘Liz? What’s wrong? Is everything OK?’ At once all thoughts of Danika evaporated and made way for an eruption of a different kind of paranoia.
‘Can you talk?’ she asked slowly. He sensed, from the reticence in her voice, that she was hiding something.
‘Of course I can. What’s happened? Have you heard?’
‘Yes. She’s fine. She’s going to be all right.’
Jake breathed a monumental sigh of relief.
‘The doctor said she’s just got a severe cough and should be kept in bed for the next couple of days.’
‘Thank God,’ he said and meant it. ‘Where are you now?’
‘Coming home.’
‘Good. Don’t tell your mum – I don’t want her near Maisie when she’s like this. On the other hand, maybe you should invite her, that way she might get sick.’
‘Leave it,
Jake. Our daughter is more important than your issues with my mum,’ Elizabeth said as Bridger slowed behind the car in front of him. ‘When can you come home?’
She’d learnt very early not to ask when he was coming home, but when he could come home. The questions were completely different, but in most instances, the answer was always the same: late.
Jake hesitated before responding. ‘I don’t know, Nelly. I’m sorry. Something big’s come up.’
Nelly was his nickname for her. After she’d told him that her favourite animal was the narwhal, it was the first thing that had come to mind. Nelly the Narwhal.
‘Where are you?’ Elizabeth asked.
‘Portsmouth.’
‘God. Please be careful, Jake. I don’t want something to happen to both of you. Not in the same day.’
‘Everything’s going to be fine. I’d love to come back and help – it’s killing me that I can’t. But there are things I’ve got to take control of first. It’s my first day and I’m dealing with some old friends.’
‘Old friends?’
Jake paused a moment before continuing. ‘The Crimsons. They’re back. And this time they’ve killed someone and taken a hostage.’
‘Please be careful… don’t put yourself in any unnecessary danger. I want you home in one piece.’
‘I’ll be safe, I promise. I’m going to end this once and for all.’
He hung up and returned his attention to a still atmosphere, save for the sound of the engine purring beneath them. Bridger was silent, patient, pretending as though he hadn’t been listening to every word, even though his very stiff reaction said otherwise. Jake could hardly blame him; it was human nature to be inquisitive and curious.
‘Everything all right?’ Bridger asked politely.
‘Getting there. My daughter’s sick. My wife’s taking care of her.’
Bridger slipped the gear down to fourth as he overtook a car. ‘How old is she?’