Judas Horse Page 16

  Jack instinctively believed Charlotte’s story, and although this line of questioning had come to an unexpectedly abrupt dead end, it did serve to tell Jack what Charlotte looked and sounded like when she was telling the truth, so it wasn’t time wasted. Now he’d be able to recognise a lie when she told one.

  Jack moved on to the subject of Maisie Fullworth, watching her carefully to see if she shifted from being confident to being frightened. ‘We now know that the person who broke into Maisie Fullworth’s house was not necessarily a member of this gang of burglars, nor were they necessarily male.’

  And there it was! Charlotte’s face drained of blood and Jack imagined that her skin was now clammy to the touch. She swallowed noisily and looked down at the cold cup of tea in her hand.

  ‘This person,’ Jack continued, ‘whoever they were, was frightened away by a teenage girl. That’s the action of someone who is capable of empathy, it’s not the action of a heartless killer.’ Charlotte’s eyes flicked to Jack’s face, then down again, then to Bevan, then the mirror. She didn’t know where to look as the word ‘killer’ echoed round the room. She was clearly desperate to ask who had been killed, wondering frantically if she was responsible. As she struggled with the impossible task of hiding her feelings, the blood raced back to her face and she flushed bright red.

  ‘Do you know Jacob Mulhern, Charlotte?’

  Charlotte’s eyes stopped on a small scratch on the desk where the laminate had chipped and she seemed to become transfixed by this tiny flaw. Jack’s voice continued, slow and deliberate. ‘He owns a livery stable in Oxford, and he ordered a plant from you recently. Do you remember delivering that to him? It doesn’t matter if you can’t. We are just trying to find the last person who might have seen him alive.’

  It was at this point that Charlotte actually seemed to stop breathing.

  Her wide eyes, full of tears, looked imploringly at Jack, and he reached out and wrapped her trembling hands in his own. ‘I know your role up until this point, Charlotte, but I also know what’s coming. So, I need your help. Today.’ The tears finally rolled down her cheeks. As they did, it was as though she became free, and she started to breathe again.

  As Jack entered the observation room, Mason couldn’t hide his admiration. ‘Nice interview. She’s gagging to tell you everything she knows.’

  Jack didn’t smile. ‘She’s not a criminal, Colin. She’s just got herself into something that she can’t get out of. I’ve now given her that way out, so she was bound to jump at it.’

  Mason shrugged. ‘Well, either way, you’ve got her where you want her . . . just like calling me “Colin” is your attempt to keep me where you want me.’ Mason shifted his position, so that he stood square-on to Jack. ‘Let me tell you this, Jack . . . it might just be working on us both. The difference, of course, is that I know what you’re doing.’

  Jack gave Charlotte fifteen minutes to gather her thoughts, take a toilet break and be given a fresh cup of tea. When he went back into the interview room, he started the tape, re-introduced everyone present and reminded Charlotte that she was still under caution. He then said six more words – ‘Tell me how this all started’ – and he sat back.

  *

  Charlotte sipped her tea and began.

  ‘We were behind with the mortgage. I knew that the Fullworths’ house was . . . I thought the Fullworths’ house was empty because Mrs Fullworth plays bridge on Tuesdays.’ The next words were whispered, as Charlotte chastised herself for her carelessness. ‘I don’t know how I could have forgotten about the school’s mid-term break.’ Then she seemed to remember that she was talking to Jack. ‘I knew Mrs Fullworth paid all of her staff in cash, I knew about the diamond engagement ring and I knew that she didn’t wear it because it needed resizing.’ She fell silent as she began to relive the moment. ‘I honestly don’t know who was more frightened when I reached the top of the stairs.’

  In the observation room, Mason grinned. They had her! She was the perpetrator of the first burglary and she’d just confessed.

  ‘I waited for Annie to be working overtime at The Soho Farmhouse,’ Charlotte continued, ‘and I took the engagement ring to London to see if I could sell it. Anyone from Chipping Norton would have recognised it as belonging to Mrs Fullworth.’

  Charlotte explained how she used to work tables in a bar along the King’s Road in Chelsea and, on her way home, she’d cut through the huge antiques emporium on the corner of Lots Road. She’d fantasise about one day being able to afford the stunningly delicate earrings and gold twisted-wire anklets she saw there – her biggest fantasy-buy being an upper-arm cuff fashioned from twisted and pressed gold into the shape of ornate leaves. ‘It looked like a delicate tree, reaching out, enveloping and growing with you. Back then, it cost a week’s wages; now, you can get them for a tenner on Amazon.’

  Jack let her reminisce unhindered. He thought it was good that she was associating her past with a purity that she’d now lost – reminding her of how guilty she felt. But he also recognised that she was delaying: she was about to give Jack a name and this petrified her.

  Instead of pushing her, Jack paused to ask if she’d like a fresh cup of tea. As the words left his lips, Jack could almost hear Mason gasp in despair from the other side of the mirror. Bevan left to put the kettle on, leaving Jack and Charlotte alone.

  ‘The stupid thing is,’ Charlotte continued, ‘if I’d held on for another couple of months, Annie’s dad would have died and left us all the money we needed.’ She shook her head, laughing at her own terrible luck. But she knew there was no stopping now. ‘Michael De Voe,’ she said, almost in a whisper.

  Jack’s expression didn’t show his excitement, but on the other side of the mirror, Mason flung open the door to the observation room and grabbed Bevan, who was busy pouring one mug of tea from Canteen Barbara into two polystyrene cups. He told her as soon as she’d delivered the teas, she was to get DI Gifford back to the station and get DI Lee down from Oxford. They’d just learnt the identity of the man behind their gang.

  Charlotte held Jack’s gaze. She felt oddly relaxed in his company; which was good because she now had no option but to trust him with her life. ‘De Voe was very interested in the diamond ring. But he knew as soon as he looked at me . . . he knew it wasn’t mine. He asked for provenance knowing I wouldn’t have any. I was about to leave, thinking he wasn’t going to buy stolen goods, or that he was perhaps going to stall me and call the police – but instead he asked if I’d like to be paid in cash! I was so relieved. But I was scared too, and I just wanted to get out of there so, when he asked for ID, I handed over my driving licence without even thinking. ’Course, now he had my name and address. He told me it’d be OK. He told me he wasn’t the kind of man to judge. He could see that I was a good person, just trying my best to survive.’ She shook her head sadly. ‘I’m so stupid.’

  Charlotte’s words tailed off and she began sobbing. Bevan entered with the teas, put them both in front of Jack and then left again.

  Jack tried to be reassuring. ‘This man, De Voe . . . he trapped you. I know men like Michael De Voe, Charlotte. They prey on innocent people without a second thought. And you’re not stupid.’ Jack slid Charlotte’s cup towards her, making her look up. ‘You’re doing really well. Together, you and me can stop this gang from killing anyone else . . . and then I can give you back your life.’

  Charlotte laced her fingers around the warm comfort of the cup and found the strength to continue. ‘He went into a small back office, he said it was to get the cash from his safe. But when he came back, he was different. Hard. I suddenly felt like, I don’t know, for a second, I actually thought he was a copper and that he was going to arrest me. The look on his face was like he’d won, you know. I wish now that he had been a copper.’ Again, Charlotte bowed her head in shame and self-pity. What De Voe had actually done in his back office, she explained, was to check a list of property registered as stolen from the Chipping Norton ar
ea. As a noted, reputable jeweller, his local bobby had already visited, and asked him to look out for the ring as they knew that it was unlikely to be sold locally. De Voe had then put £1,000 on the desk in front of Charlotte, which was far more than she had expected to get. But instead of feeling buoyed up by the money, she was frightened. De Voe didn’t threaten her directly, but he did say that he would keep her secret as long as she understood that she now owed him. All she had to do was answer his phone call and do what he asked when he decided it was time to collect.

  By now, DC Bevan was standing alongside Mason in the observation room. Gifford, who had been placating Barrowman at the Wychwood Golf Club, had been called back to the station as a matter of urgency, but the Vauxhall Corsa hire car had finally given up the ghost, so he was currently stranded in the middle of nowhere waiting for a uniformed officer to go and collect him. All of which made Bevan secretly smile.

  Back in the interview room, Charlotte was getting to the crux of her involvement with the gang. ‘I told De Voe about Mr and Mrs Bright-Cullingwood’s annual boat trip. They’ve got a yacht moored in Bristol Marina and they . . . well, I don’t think they take it anywhere, actually. After Mr Bright-Cullingwood’s heart attack, I don’t think he can sail anymore. But they still go over there. They were the first house to be robbed, back in the summer of 2018.’

  Jack suddenly realised something. He tapped on the mirror and, within seconds, Bevan appeared at the door. ‘Bevan, Charlotte can give us all of the burglary victims. So the ones choosing to hide behind their insurance can now be approached.’ Bevan sat down next to Jack, pen in hand. But Charlotte had gone ashen white and she’d stopped breathing again. Suddenly she leapt to her feet and pushed her fingers into her tangled hair.

  ‘Oh my God, they’ll know. They’ll all know. I can’t . . . Annie! She won’t be able to cope. She’s ill. She has anxiety. She’ll never forgive me for this. We’ll have to move. And she won’t move. She was born here. It’s her home! That’s why I stole from Mrs Fullworth, to save Annie’s home. She needs stability. Oh, God . . . our neighbours, our friends, our families will find out that I betrayed them all! I did this! Jacob Mulhern . . . that was me! It was all me!’ Charlotte backed herself into the corner of the room and slid to the floor. Her body trembled and she gasped for breath. ‘I’m not talking anymore. I take it all back. Please! Please let me take it back!’

  Jack and Bevan calmly watched her meltdown, knowing that all of this raw emotion was better out than in. When he felt she was ready, Jack spoke. ‘There’s no going back, Charlotte.’ Jack’s voice was filled with a simple honesty. He wasn’t going to lie to her. ‘The only thing you can do now is make amends. Accept what you started – and work with me to end it.’

  Jack paused for a minute or two, allowing Charlotte to fully take in her situation.

  ‘I tried to get myself out of it,’ she said finally. ‘When he called and asked me for the second address, I said no.’ Charlotte kept her head bowed as she spoke. ‘He was so calm. He said something about having to live with the decisions we make. He called me a good person. And then he hung up. I was out of the house for six hours, doing my deliveries, and when I got home, Annie was in tears. She’d found our cat on the doorstep. Dead. He’d been caught in barbed wire, she said. And he’d walked home to die. His body was in a shoebox. As I was burying him in the orchard, I got a text message: We live with the decisions we make. . . The next day he called again and I gave him the second address.’ Charlotte glanced up from the safety of her corner. Her damp hair almost covered her eyes.

  Jack spoke softly.

  ‘When you’re ready, I want you to tell DC Bevan the name of every address you gave De Voe. I know you can remember them all, Charlotte, because they weigh heavily on you. Charlotte, I am on your side. But I will not allow you to clam up now, because there are lives at stake. So . . . and think about this very carefully before you answer . . . are you sitting there telling me that you have nothing more to say? Are you telling me that your “what will the neighbours think” fears are more important to you than another human life? Are you telling me that you’re choosing to continue to protect Michael De Voe? Or are you going to do the right thing?’

  Charlotte stared at Jack for what seemed like minutes. Bevan felt increasingly awkward, whereas Jack was more than comfortable to just stare back. Eventually, Charlotte dragged herself to her feet and retook her seat at the table. Bevan maintained the official tone of the interview: ‘For the tape, Charlotte Miles has returned to the table.’

  Jack was different now and Charlotte knew it. If she didn’t play her part, he’d see her go down for whatever he could convict her of. In his way he was just as remorseless as De Voe, and she was just as trapped.

  For the next three hours, Jack asked questions and Charlotte answered them. He was pleased to discover that she hadn’t accepted any kind of payment from De Voe for the information she fed to him, even when it was repeatedly offered. Charlotte took a while to get started but, once the floodgates opened, there was no stopping her. She explained how she had recommended livery stables and given advice on what sort of horseboxes could carry the weight of a quadbike and motorbike; how she had informed De Voe of all roads that had no CCTV and of all back routes into and out of target properties. She passed on information about residents’ holidays, day trips, nights away, empty rentals, as well as staffing levels and security systems. And she talked of how, each time a target was identified, the gang would recce the area for three full days before deciding whether or not to go ahead. Charlotte also mentioned how, when she’d once been talking to De Voe on the phone, he’d taken a second call. Because he’d kept her on the line, she could hear his side of the other conversation. He’d spoken about flights and about buying airline tickets so that ‘his people’ would be in and out of the country before the cops even knew what had happened. And she also heard him mention a second jewellery shop in Camden, although he didn’t mention the exact location. She said he had no problem at all stealing from rich, insured people. In fact, he regularly used the words ‘victimless crime’.

  As the interview came to an end, Charlotte and Bevan looked exhausted, whereas Jack still looked as fresh as a daisy and raring to go. Jack’s final question was whether Charlotte knew where the gang stayed during their regular, three-day recces. She shook her head.

  ‘What happens now?’ she asked, realising the interview was finally over. ‘I mean . . . can I see Annie, please? She’ll need to know . . . that I’m not coming home. I want to be the one who tells her.’

  Jack didn’t immediately answer her question. ‘The annual equestrian event starts next week. That’ll be something De Voe won’t be able to resist. So, he’ll be contacting you shortly in order to do his three-day prep. Bevan will see if De Voe is in the system and, if he is, we’ll need a positive ID please . . .’ Jack paused before delivering his bombshell. ‘. . . then she’ll drive you home.’

  Charlotte’s jaw nearly hit the table. As did Bevan’s, as she wondered on whose authority was he about to release their only connection to the leader of this elusive gang.

  ‘Charlotte, I need you out there, not in here, Jack continued. ‘I will keep you and Annie safe, but you must trust me. Do you trust me, Charlotte?’

  The tears once again began to flow, quietly and softly this time. Charlotte nodded.

  Jack sealed the deal with one final sentence that only he and Charlotte knew the meaning of. ‘Charlotte Miles, for three years you’ve been De Voe’s Judas Horse; now you’re mine.’

  CHAPTER 16

  Jack and Mason entered the squad room to find Lee had just arrived from Oxford and was itching for a full handover. ‘DI Mason and I will go through the details of his interview and then communicate the next course of action to the team,’ he announced.

  During his drive from Oxford to Chipping Norton, he had coordinated a series of background checks on De Voe, but it turned out he was not in any
system and did not have a criminal record. However, his name was now in capital letters right in the centre of the evidence board. Jack was horrified. ‘We can’t show our hand yet, sir.’

  Lee shrugged. ‘We’ve got no IDs, no court-reliable witnesses, no prints, no DNA . . .’

  Gifford chipped in. ‘Even the greasy fingerprint on the back of Barrowman’s office chair doesn’t belong to anyone in any system, here or internationally. They’re all clean, Eamonn.’

  ‘All we have is one scared woman who’s confessed to a burglary-gone-wrong from three years ago,’ Jack went on.

  Lee ignored Jack and was looking at Mason to see if he was going to back him up, seeing that Gifford now seemed to have gone over to the other side. But Mason simply said, ‘Just listen to him, Eamonn.’ Lee frowned. He knew nothing of the violent confrontation between Mason and Jack when they found Mulhern’s mutilated body in the stable, but he could sense that Jack now had some kind of hold over his Oxford partner.

  With Gifford and Mason providing backup, Jack continued. ‘If we go after De Voe now, we lose the gang, and we can’t allow that to happen just because we’re itching to move. I want the man who can push a letter opener into a dog’s brain, and who can beat Mathew with a crowbar over a pizza, and who can torture and murder Jacob Mulhern. I want Mr Smart. Look at how much we do know, sir. We’ve been right about everything: how they used an insider, how they move around, how they avoid CCTV, how they select their targets, the fact that they’re transient and not from around here . . . and now we know where they come in from and disappear to. We’re ahead of them.’

  Lee looked at Jack warily. ‘What do you suggest then? And remember the final decision lies with Oxford Robbery.’