The Detective Jake Tanner Organised Crime Thriller Series Books 1-3 (DC Jake Tanner Crime Thriller Series Boxsets)

by Jack Probyn

  CHAPTER 42

  LIMA GOLF

  ‘As of fifteen minutes ago,’ Pemberton began, her voice coming from the loudspeaker on Bridger’s phone, ‘there were several reported sightings of Danny, Michael and Luke Cipriano on the A3. They were involved in an RTC, fired at a police officer and stole a Saab 2004, number plate LT04 6JB.’

  Jake and Bridger looked at one another in a mild state of disbelief.

  ‘Sorry, ma’am,’ Bridger said, ‘but did you say they shot a police officer?’

  ‘Yes, a constable. He was attending another call when the incident happened. When he tried to stop The Crimsons, they opened fire on him.’

  The disbelief turned into shock.

  ‘Is he going to be OK?’ Jake asked.

  ‘He’s being treated on the scene. But the A3 is backed up, traffic for miles. I’m having to find a way through the back roads.’

  ‘You’re coming to Portsmouth?’

  An engine growled, almost as if answering Jake’s question. ‘I’m bringing Candice with me. She’s quarantined in the back. If Danny Cipriano holds the final key to that device, then there simply isn’t enough time to get it back to her. She has to be wherever Danny is.’

  ‘And if he doesn’t have the key at all?’

  There was a pause. A lengthy one.

  ‘Then that doesn’t bear thinking about.’

  Bridger pulled off the M275 and brought the car to a stop beside Victoria Park, one of Portsmouth’s breathing lungs. Opposite was the majestic St John’s Cathedral. The gothic building was a clay-red construction made entirely of brick, and from the brief glance he stole, the two spires at the head of the cathedral reminded Jake of a meat fork used for barbecues. Jake wasn’t one for religion – he was a believer in natural selection and the Big Bang – but he always managed to appreciate the architectural prowess of religious buildings. The most overwhelming one he’d ever visited was St Peter’s Basilica in the Vatican, closely followed by St Paul’s in London. Other than that, he was resigned to looking at them on the internet and social media whenever they appeared in his news feed.

  While the engine continued to tick over on the side of the road, the car fell silent. Pemberton was still on loudspeaker, but nobody spoke. Jake could see from Bridger’s face that he was worried, that he had something on his mind. Jake felt the same way. He summoned the courage to voice it, licking his lips before he did so.

  ‘What about the rest of the team, guv? What’s the latest with them?’

  ‘What do you mean, Jake?’

  Another glance at Bridger.

  Burdened with knowing what he did, Jake was beginning to piece together who might be working against them, and with the unspoken support of the person sitting next to him, he asked: ‘Danika, DI Murphy, DC Jenkins – what are they all doing to aid the investigation?’ All the other names of the team he’d met this morning had vanished from his mind.

  ‘Are you suggesting they’re not pulling their weight, Jake?’

  Pemberton’s scathing response took him by surprise. It was the first time he’d posed a question to her, and she’d instantly shot him down.

  ‘That’s not… that’s not what I’m suggesting at all,’ he replied.

  ‘Then what are you suggesting, Jake?’

  Jake opened his mouth but tripped. Bridger moved his hand to the gearstick and caught Jake’s attention.

  ‘I think what Jake’s trying to say is that it’ll be good to know what the rest of the team are up to so we know who to go to for information.’

  ‘Me, Elliot. You come to me. And if I don’t know, then you go to Mark. The hierarchy’s there for a reason. I’ll see you in Portsmouth Harbour.’

  The line went dead, and Bridger and Jake were left with a tangible air of awkwardness, the same one he’d felt the first time he’d ever faced rejection – when he’d asked Mary Cunningham to be his girlfriend in Year 9. She’d just looked at him, laughed and then ran away.

  ‘Why didn’t you say anything?’ Jake asked.

  Bridger played with the steering wheel. ‘Because I think we need to be careful with who we disclose that information to. If we start telling everyone that there’s a bent copper in the team, then we’ll never find out who it is.’

  ‘But we didn’t even get an answer.’

  ‘Exactly. She cut you off as soon as you insinuated something.’

  Jake turned his attention to the outside world. A young woman with a cigarette in her hand and stroller in the other wandered past, with a small toddler lazily catching up behind.

  ‘Where to now then?’ he asked.

  Before Bridger had a chance to respond, the radio clipped onto the dashboard sounded.

  ‘Echo Bravo Four-Five, Echo Bravo Four-Five from Lima Golf, over.’

  Bridger reached for the radio and held it against his lips. ‘Lima Golf, Lima Golf, this is Echo Bravo Four-Five. Go ahead, over.’

  ‘Echo Bravo, we’ve got a positive ANPR hit on the registration for the stolen Saab. Last ping was less than three minutes ago. The car was last seen situated in the Harbour Car Park, Havant Street, postcode Papa-Oscar-One, Three-Echo-Alpha. Are you able to attend with armed support? Over,’ said the robotic-sounding individual on the other end of the line.

  ‘Lima Golf, we’re on the way. Will report back when we arrive, over.’

  ‘Echo Bravo, received, thank you, over.’

  CHAPTER 43

  SWEET TASTE

  Danika was craving another cigarette. Or a drink. Or both. Perhaps even something stronger. The sweet, delectable taste of tar and vanilla Absolut vodka on her teeth and tongue and throat. Something to help ease the stress of everything going on around her.

  Tony, her husband, the man she’d agreed to spend the rest of her life with – a decision she now regretted – had messaged her. Apparently he was taking the boys to his mum’s where they’d be spending the next couple of days. Without warning, without consultation. He was taking them away from her, and right now there was nothing she could do about it. Sometimes the answers were at the bottom of a bottle, she found – especially with the added confidence it instilled. Without the alcohol flowing through her system, controlling her entire body the same way an adolescent controls a video game, she wouldn’t have the courage to tell him what she really thought about him, what she really wanted to happen between them, what she really hoped would happen to him. Instead those thoughts would stay locked inside her head until she either snapped or found another outlet for her misery.

  She tried to force herself not to think about Tony; there were other distractions in the office. Mark Murphy was one of them, but he was too busy at the moment to pay her any sort of attention. In the past hour alone, the Incident Room had been bombarded with a barrage of information. Inquests ordered by Murphy into the possible links between Roger Heathcote and The Crimsons had come up short and had been placed on the back-burner. News of the road traffic collision had flooded into the office, and a handful of officers had been sent down to the crime scene to examine the forensics and question some of the key witnesses. So far, it seemed, The Crimsons were leaving a very messy – and long – trail of paperwork and devastation behind them.

  But the most important news that had come into the office was that the Cipriano brothers were heading towards Portsmouth Harbour, readying themselves to board a ship and skip the country. Danika and some others in the team had been tasked with speaking with the port and cruise company and locating the boat they were due to be on.

  ‘Under no circumstance,’ Murphy had said, ‘are we to cancel the boat or tell them to stay put. You’re conducting a fact-finding mission. I just need you to tell me what boat they’re due to be on, and I’ll take it from there.’

  And that was exactly what Danika had done. In record time too, it seemed, beating the others that had been put to the task. She’d always been secretly proud of her ability to find holes in information, find the necessary details, separate the good from the bad, the intellige
nce from the misinformation. Shame that ability didn’t extend to finding the right man.

  Danika pushed herself away from the desk and hurried to the kitchen, feeling as though, if she didn’t move quickly or with a renewed sense of urgency, she wasn’t doing her job properly. Like she was policing her own attitude in the workplace. In the middle of the kitchen was Miriam, the only other international individual Danika had found in the team. They’d bumped into one another in the bathroom and, as some girls were wont to do, started chatting. Born in Germany, she’d moved across to England when she was fifteen and had stayed ever since. Her hair was blonde and her accent was still thick, denser than Danika’s.

  Danika gave her a brief smile. ‘Hey,’ she said.

  Miriam depressed the kettle switch. ‘You having a coffee?’

  ‘Please.’

  ‘Let me fill her up.’ Miriam removed the kettle from the plate and added more water, dribbling some down the side. As she set it back on the plate, she took Danika’s mug and opened one of her own Nescafé sachets and decanted the contents into the cup. While they waited for the kettle to boil, Miriam glanced over her shoulders and shuffled closer towards Danika.

  ‘Can I ask you something?’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘I want your opinion. I want to release the mugshots of Danny, Michael and Luke from a few years ago, but Murphy doesn’t think it’s a good idea. What do you think?’

  Danika wasn’t too keen on getting roped into office politics so soon in her career. But a part of her was flattered Miriam felt confident in asking her.

  I think you should do as you’re told and follow the rank. It’s there for a reason.

  ‘Did he tell you why he doesn’t want to do it?’

  ‘Little to be gained. By the time it gets out, this’ll all be over.’

  Danika shrugged ambivalently. ‘It’s not my position to say. I think he knows what he’s doing, and who’s to say the instruction hasn’t come from Pemberton? For all you know she might have told him to keep it within this building.’

  To that, she had no apparent answer.

  The kettle finished its boil, Miriam made the coffee and left, leaving Danika’s cup on the surface. Danika took a sip of the coffee, realised it needed a spoon of sugar – and possibly a hint of Irish – and as she returned to her desk, all she could think about was that sweet, sweet taste in her mouth later on.

  CHAPTER 44

  X4

  The bus pulled in front of them sharply, pistons hissing, brakes shrieking. The momentum caused by the sudden halt propelled the other passengers forward in their seats like they were crash test dummies. Danny, Luke and Michael stood in a line waiting for the X4 from Portsmouth Harbour to Southampton Port via Fareham. They were at the back of the queue, allowing the elderly couples and young families to board first. The less attention they could draw to themselves in this pivotal final stage of their operation, the better. Danny didn’t like to think what a life behind bars would look like. Freddy had told him as much in the letters he’d received, which always managed to find themselves in the bin before anyone else could find them. Ever since the beginning, Danny and Freddy, as the eldest members of the group, as the figureheads, had decided that if either of them found themselves in prison, they would write and make contact using a series of aliases and prearranged addresses they’d sorted up and down the country. From the letters Danny saw the pain and hurt and suffering that Freddy had endured. But he had no sympathy for the man, no guilt; he was exactly where he deserved to be. And he never had any intention of sharing the letters with either Michael or Luke.

  It was Danny’s turn to board the bus, and as he stepped up onto the vehicle, he felt as though all eyes were on him. It suddenly made him very conscious of his surroundings, as though everyone inside the bus was an undercover police officer, and they were all just chomping at the bit to apprehend him. Danny dismissed the thought and joined his brothers on the seats towards the back of the bus, the spot designated for the cool kids. As he wandered up the aisle, his bag jostled against the sides of the chairs and other passengers’ shoulders. Panic struck him as the jingles of the diamonds and other pieces of jewellery inside the bag turned a few heads his way. But then he remembered that no one knew who they were, nobody knew their faces, nobody had seen them before. Danny rushed to the seat and sat beside Luke, with Michael on the other side of the aisle.

  As soon as the bus pulled off, Danny’s shoulders relaxed. He knew the bus timetable off by heart; as part of their preparations, he’d tested the running time of the journey: ninety minutes. Which left them with just half an hour to get their things together and board the boat before it set off. It was cutting it fine, but everything had been calculated to the final moment. They couldn’t afford any more mistakes.

  As Danny sat staring wistfully at the yellow metal pole in front of him, his thoughts turned to Candice, and how every part of him was grateful that she wasn’t there. For all he cared, she could be several thousand miles away and he wouldn’t lose any sleep over it. Or, even better, she could be six feet under… where she deserved to be.

  In the first quarter of an hour, the majority of the passengers on board disembarked before they’d left Portsmouth, and as they merged onto the wider lanes heading out of the city, as the driver began to open up the throttle, Danny felt more at ease. They were inconspicuous, just a group of lads hitching a bus ride. Nothing to look at or pay attention to.

  Except something concerned him.

  Luke.

  His brother’s attention was focused on the window and had been ever since they’d set off. His face was ashen and pensive.

  Danny nudged him earnestly.

  ‘You good?’ he whispered.

  Keeping his gaze fixed on the window, Luke replied, ‘I’m worried about her.’ His voice was so low that it was almost inaudible.

  ‘I told you she’d be fine. With any luck, mate, she’ll probably be waiting for us by the time we arrive, yeah?’

  Luke said nothing and Danny took the moment to observe his brother and marvel at how much he had grown – physically, mentally and emotionally. At how much he had become an adult within the space of a few years. And at how much he loved him. The man beside him had, in recent months, become exactly that. A man. He had matured and begun to show some independence, something he’d never been able to do when Freddy was in control of them. There were times when Danny didn’t think Luke could stand on his own two feet, but he’d proved him wrong.

  ‘You’ve done well today, Luke,’ Danny said. ‘Dad would have been proud.’

  ‘Dad?’ Luke said, his voice turning agitated. ‘What do you mean, “dad”? Dad wouldn’t have been proud even if he knew what we were up to.’

  ‘What you talking about? Whenever he was back from serving, he always put you first.’ Danny kept his voice low, lest any other passengers overhear and take it upon themselves to listen in. ‘What else has Candice been telling you about him?’

  Luke swallowed before responding. ‘She told me he was never there. Flew off to Afghanistan to be with some Arab woman.’

  Danny chuckled in disbelief. It was laughable, the lengths that Candice would go to in order to deceive Luke and win him over. ‘You’re fucking joking, right? You’ve got to be kidding me. How can you turn around and say that Michael and I have lied to you all your life?’

  ‘I’m not—’

  ‘That’s exactly what you’re saying. You’re believing the woman who claims to be your mother – the woman you’ve met fewer times than the number of fingers on your hand. She’s known you for two seconds – of course she’s going to feed you stories you want to hear. And you lapped it up, didn’t you?’ Danny turned to face Michael opposite him. ‘Are you hearing this?’

  ‘What’s that?’

  Danny scoffed. ‘This idiot believes the things that woman’s been telling him about our dad. He listens to her stories over ours. She has no clue what she’s talking about. If he was here to defend himsel
f, he’d—’

  ‘But he’s not here, is he? Do you know where he is? I don’t?’ Luke snapped. ‘He hasn’t been there all my life.’

  ‘He’s more than half the man she claims him to be though.’

  Around them, heads started to turn in their direction; he was aware they were raising their voices, but now he realised they were also raising suspicion.

  Luke reached into his pocket, produced his wallet and removed a small photo. On it was a heavily pixelated image of a dark-haired man with a thick, shaggy beard. His eyes were as dark as his hair, cavernous, never-ending.

  Danny hardly recognised the man in the photo.

  ‘What’s this?’ Danny snatched the picture from Luke and inspected it. ‘This ain’t him.’

  ‘Yes, it is. Mum gave it to me. It was the last photo she ever had of him.’

  ‘This man’s a pussy. Look at him with his stud earring. This ain’t him. Ours was a hero. A fucking hero.’ Danny clenched his hand into a fist, scrunched the photo in his grip and dropped it. Then he removed his wallet from his pocket. As he pulled it out, the fourth key tumbled out and landed on the floor by his feet. At that moment, the coach seemed to go silent, and the unmistakable sound of a metal key bouncing on the floor deafened them.

  Danny reached his arm out, but Luke beat him to it.

  ‘What is…’ Luke began as he inspected the key. ‘No…’

  ‘Luke—’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Luke, listen—’

  ‘No!’ Luke shook his head viciously, and his voice turned deep, almost demonic. ‘No! No! No!’

  Luke shoved Danny in the chest. The sudden and brute force winded him.

  ‘No!’ Luke screamed.

  By now, others in the coach had turned round and were glaring at them both.