Judas Horse Read online

  This single, spontaneous, ill-considered outburst from De Voe was game-changing. Out of context, it meant nothing but, put together with everything else they knew, it could mean that Alberto strangled the man in the horsebox to the point of snapping his hyoid bone, before sliding him into the lake. And, if that proved to be true, then De Voe’s recorded outburst just proved that he knew about it. This could link all of the key players to the first murder. They were miles away from this recording being of any use in a court of law but in this squad room, it was invaluable. It gave them a possible name for the man in the horsebox: Angelo. As soon as she heard the recording, Bevan jumped on this lead without being asked, driven by a need to find justice for the dead man she’d linked to their case in the first instance.

  This dramatic new angle was then almost trumped when Oaks announced he’d stumbled on another new name: Miguel Delgardo. He was an Argentinian in his late fifties who had spent time in a Brazilian prison for drug smuggling. He was a skilled criminal who had evaded capture for most of his career; and was only ever charged with a fraction of the crimes that the Brazilian criminal justice system brought against him, serving seven years of what should have been a life sentence. Delgardo was loosely connected to the Brazilian billionaire businessman, Luiz Barro, father to Betina and Alberto, but when Oaks couldn’t trace any recent communication between the two men, he decided to add Delgardo’s early-90s mugshot to a fourth ‘possible connection’ board and move on.

  Jack was immediately drawn to this 20-year-old image. He wasn’t sure why at first. He studied it until his mind made sense of what was nagging at him, then Jack moved Delgardo’s image onto the ‘prime targets’ board, alongside the image of De Voe.

  Oaks then asked the obvious question: ‘How come he’s a prime target when we don’t even know who he is?’

  ‘Look at the eyes.’ Jack’s smile worried Oaks, as it meant that there was something bloody obvious right in front of him and he had no clue what it was. The whole room was now focused on trying to see what Jack was seeing.

  Bevan got there first.

  ‘It’s him!’ She was so excited that she couldn’t help shouting it out. ‘Michael De Voe is Miguel Delgardo!’

  Jack grinned. ‘Was. Oaks, we need to know everything about Delgardo. Most importantly, how he worked, his MO, and how he was caught. Listen, everyone! Michael De Voe’s real name is Miguel Delgardo. He’s not late-40s, as his business CV states, but late-50s. And he’s an accomplished drug smuggler. He is exceptional at getting things across borders, undetected. This is excellent work from DC Oaks, because now we can learn our target. Well done, William. Bloody well done.’

  Looking on, Gifford appreciated how Jack freely praised his officers. Jack’s easy way with his subordinates had niggled Gifford at first, but now he saw its true value. If, or more likely, when Hearst got the next batch of complaints about Jack, Gifford would pull rank on him, but for now he was content to share in the warm feeling that spread around the squad room from the results of everyone’s hard work. Even Lee could find nothing to complain about, which, judging from his sour expression, mightily pissed him off. He couldn’t stand Jack’s easy-going manner, sure it concealed a far more sinister person beneath.

  ‘Bevan,’ Gifford interrupted her before she could begin trying to find out who Angelo was, ‘get four uniforms and brief them on the recording, the guy in the horsebox, the name Angelo, and whatever else is relevant. Get them to start trying to identify him. I don’t want you on the sidelines. We need you front and centre.’

  When Jack’s mobile rang, he glanced at the screen. ‘CM’. He clicked accept and Charlotte began talking before he could say hello. ‘He’s changed the plan, DS Warr. And I’m scared he knows that I’ve spoken to you. Meet me at the King’s Stone. Just you. Please. Be there in an hour.’ Then she ended the call.

  *

  The Rollright Stones, out in the direction of Long Compton, were a series of Neolithic and Bronze Age megaliths, whose mysterious origins made them as revered as Stonehenge. Popular explanations ranged from the stones once being the King and his knights, turned to stone by a witch, to the site being the King’s burial ground – all without satisfactorily identifying which ‘King’ they actually related to. Either way, the myths surrounding the stones brought tourists and film crews from miles around. The King’s Men stones stood in a circle; the Whispering Knights formed a huddled group; and The King’s Stone stood alone behind a waist-high circular fence. Jack waited in the open field, the cold wind blowing through his coat and straight into his bones. But he hardly noticed, there was so much going through his head. Mainly he was worried that his performance as Richard Delaware had not been as convincing as he’d originally thought, and now De Voe suspected the police were on to him and his gang. And he was worried that as a consequence he’d put Charlotte in danger – the one thing he swore he’d never do.

  As if on cue, Charlotte emerged from a distant treeline and started hurrying towards him. He recalled the first time they’d met on her smallholding in the heart of this beautiful part of the world that she so fondly called home . . . She commanded the space with a confidence that came from being at one with her environment. Charlotte did not appear confident now. She didn’t stride, she scurried. She didn’t command the space around her, she feared it. With one phone call from De Voe, her home had been psychologically taken from her and she was scared to the point of wanting to run away and leave it all behind.

  ‘I gave him the five addresses you told me to,’ Charlotte began. ‘But he’s not going to hit them during the annual equestrian event next week.’ Charlotte was so desperate to deliver all of the information that was muddling her head, and then leave as quickly as possible, that she hardly paused for breath. ‘On the evening before the opening ceremony, there’s going to be a launch party. It’s not usually part of the proceedings, but Barrowman’s organised it as an extra. It’s going to be this huge buffet dinner in a marquee, to raise money for St Barnabas’s in Gloucester – that’s Mathew’s old school. Everyone’s coming. After the attack on Mathew, I think guilt set in and now he’s making amends in the only way he knows how – by throwing money around. So anyway, that’s when De Voe will hit the homes. On the day before the equestrian event even starts. That’s the day after tomorrow!’

  Jack was going to ask how on earth De Voe knew about the last-minute addition of a charity buffet, but he didn’t have to; Charlotte was clearly guilt-ridden at having innocently let it slip during their phone call. This sort of rookie mistake was exactly why Jack had worked so hard to keep Charlotte out of the police station, out of Lee’s hands and away from the more important details of the case. Jack could only imagine what she would have told De Voe if Lee had brought her in and used her like he wanted to.

  ‘Have I ruined it all? You won’t be ready for him, will you? Annie and I are leaving. I can’t stay, DS Warr. I’ve told her it’s a holiday, but I can’t bring her back. I can’t be here when the lives of five more dear friends are ruined by . . . Oh God, the intrusion and the violation . . . I can’t live with myself – and, if Annie finds out, she won’t be able to live with me either. And she’s no good on her own. This will kill her. Please don’t arrest me. Please let me go now, before . . .’

  Jack placed his hands firmly on Charlotte’s shoulders and held her steady, as her body began shaking violently. She was in absolute turmoil.

  ‘Charlotte, listen to me. Are you listening?’ Jack then made her a promise that he knew was not his to make. ‘The burglary at the Fullworths’ house will disappear.’ As Jack looked into Charlotte’s shocked eyes, he knew that she believed every word he was saying. ‘I’m going to tell that to one other person, OK? I’m going to tell DCI Simon Ridley who you spoke to on the phone the other day. I trust him with my life, so I certainly trust him with yours. Don’t leave. If you leave, it’ll tip De Voe off and he’ll disappear. Remember what I said to you: this is your chance for redemption. I can protect yo
u. From De Voe, from the law. I can. Charlotte, don’t throw everything away just because you’re scared. You can’t live without redemption. I know you can’t.’ Jack then let go of Charlotte and put his hands by his sides. ‘But if you decide to run, I won’t stop you.’

  From the darkness of the treeline, Lee watched. He spat the unlit cigarette from his mouth, revealing the scowl behind it. His lips were pencil thin, pursed into a tight line that held his anger at bay. For now. He was too far away to hear anything that had been said, but the simple fact that Jack was out here, privately meeting their informant behind everyone else’s back, was enough to make his blood boil.

  Hearst’s placatory metaphor about dogs on leads popped back into his head and made him smile. She really had no idea.

  But she’d soon find out.

  *

  Because the name Regina means ‘queen’, her baby had naturally become known as Princess. Only a few days ago, the ward sister had asked Regina and Mario if they intended to name their baby, but they flatly refused – they knew full well that they were only being pushed into it so that, if things took a turn for the worse, she’d die with a name. Regina and Mario stubbornly backed their newborn daughter’s ability to beat any odds and be named when she was ready.

  Regina’s arm was inside the incubator and her finger was in Princess’s hand. She now weighed just over three pounds. She was being ventilated and various machines monitored her other organ functions. But Regina didn’t notice all the wires anymore; all she saw was Mario’s nose and chin, her own hair and, on the rare occasion that they opened, she saw her dad’s eyes. Regina saw a little person – whereas Maggie saw a medical challenge that would go on for years at least and in truth might never end. She sat quietly by Regina’s side and read Princess’s notes.

  ‘I’m ready to hear it, you know,’ Regina said without averting her besotted eyes from Princess. ‘Whatever the doctors say.’

  Maggie closed the file and said that it was too early for the medics to know anything for certain. ‘Remember that shift you did up on my ward, Maggie?’ Regina said. ‘All those old people heading for the end of their lives, losing so much along the way – continence, movement, cognition. How awful that must be, to knowingly lose all of those things that made your life worth living. Princess will be happy no matter what, because she can’t miss what she’s never had. I’m going to fill her life with such joy, Mags . . .’ As Regina continued, the tears came, but they were accompanied by the broadest, most loving of smiles. ‘. . . my touch, my voice, my kisses. As far as she’s concerned, those will be the only things she’ll ever need. She’ll think herself to be the luckiest little girl alive. She will know love like most people can’t even imagine.’ Regina wiped her face clean of tears and took on a more serious tone. ‘I understand the possibility of paralysis and brain damage, Maggie – don’t think I’m ignoring it. I’m just . . . I’m just . . . we had a three-legged dog when I was a kid and he didn’t miss his fourth leg because he never knew he was meant to have it in the first place.’

  Maggie tried not to laugh at Regina’s analogy, but then the two of them burst out laughing together, making the nurse in the corner of the room glance up from her paperwork. Regina had some awful times ahead, but she was driven by her faith that boundless love would see the whole family through.

  Princess’s file did not make happy reading. Her traumatic birth and significant hypoxia would more than likely result in kidney and liver damage, if not ultimate failure. And her consultant also suspected that the risk of her developing necrotising enterocolitis was high, although they wouldn’t know for sure until Princess was a few weeks older. He was monitoring her closely as it was his goal to avoid invasive bowel surgery on such a tiny body if at all possible.

  But physical and emotional exhaustion, plus the exertion of concealing their true fears had made Maggie and Regina slightly hysterical, hence their current laughing fit. And for a few precious moments, the two friends allowed themselves to be happy.

  *

  Jack sat at a corner table, in the bar of The Fox Hunters, nursing a pint of some local bitter with a quirky name. It had an unpleasant aftertaste, but Jack’s palate was getting more accustomed with every sip. He was on the phone to Ridley, getting him up to speed with what Charlotte had just told him. While Jack had been with Charlotte at the King’s Stone, Gifford had called Ridley to tell him about their De Voe/Delgardo discovery, so now he knew everything.

  Jack was careful to accentuate the positive: ‘With the resources you and DCI Hearst have got in place, in such a short space of time, we’re good to go when De Voe is. Him bringing things forwards won’t knock us off-track.’ But once he had Ridley placated, Jack threw in the curveball. ‘I’ve promised Charlotte leniency when it comes to it. She was acting for De Voe under extreme duress, and now she’s turned informant; I’ll speak up for her.’ Ridley pointed out that Charlotte was unquestionably guilty of the break-in at the Fullworths’ home. ‘I can get Elli not to press charges. I know that won’t get Charlotte off the hook completely, but it’ll help.’

  Ridley was in his office sipping a tumbler of single malt. ‘None of this is your call to make, Jack,’ he said with a frown. He looked out over London which, at this time of night, was a dazzling display of dancing lights. Ridley didn’t normally indulge in whisky unless he had company but, during his telephone conversation with Hearst, she’d asked him to drink with her, so he had.

  Jack had expected this by-the-book response from Ridley. ‘Maybe not. But I won’t let them go after her full throttle. All that’ll do is drive her out of her home and lose her the love of her life. She identified De Voe and now she’s going to bring him to us. We owe her – for being our Judas Horse, we owe her.’

  ‘Our what?’

  ‘It’s a horse that you trap and train to do as you ask. Then you set it free and, because it’s trusted by the other horses, it can betray them and lead them back to you. They don’t see it coming. That’s the gist of it: De Voe will follow her into our trap because he trusts her.’

  ‘So, this is why you’re keeping her close and not allowing her to report to Gifford or Lee before she reports to you? You trapped and trained her, so she’s yours.’

  ‘Yes, she is. And when all of this is over, I want to let her go,’ Jack said firmly.

  ‘Well . . .’ Ridley took a moment to empty his glass and pour himself another. ‘I can’t wait to meet this woman, Jack. She must be quite something.’

  Jack’s burner phone buzzed in his pocket. Ridley offered to hang up so that Jack could answer it, but Jack said no and let it go to voicemail.

  From inside the empty bar, Jack then played the voicemail on speaker, so that Ridley could hear it. ‘Richard. Michael De Voe here. So, I’ve secured the emeralds for the necklace you commissioned, and that’s being created as we speak. It’ll match the ring you chose in every detail. As a bit of a side issue, my assistant mentioned you were into your horses, said one of your girlfriend’s Arabians had just won something or other. Anyway, as you’re spending a good chunk of cash with me, the least I can do is stand you a day at the races. What do you say? Oh, and that bracelet you showed me. I’ve had it valued and it’ll bring the price down by £800. Call me back when you get a moment and we’ll arrange things.’

  Ridley could practically hear Jack grinning. ‘Be careful, Jack. He’s a game player. And he’s used to winning.’

  ‘Not this time, sir. This time he loses.’

  Ridley took the opportunity to impart one piece of wisdom that he knew for a fact Jack didn’t have. ‘I was an UC officer for seven years, back in the day. Don’t get too confident. Some UC officers get too comfortable and start seeing the criminal underworld as a home from home. But the dangerous truth is, the likes of De Voe can see us coming. We don’t truly fit in. We don’t know how to play their game. So, don’t be tempted to toy with De Voe; keep the relationship simple and keep your distance, because if he figures you for a copper,
he’ll kill you.’

  Jack sat at the corner table in the bar of The Fox Hunters for another hour. Ridley’s words of warning had fallen on deaf ears, as Ridley suspected they would. But . . . not because Ridley had got De Voe wrong – he’d got Jack wrong. Jack could fit into the criminal world undetected. He did know how to play that game. It was in him. He hadn’t invited it or encouraged it, but he had allowed it, because it gave him a feeling of power that was intoxicating. It’s what would allow him to control both Charlotte and De Voe, even though they were on opposite sides. Jack knew only too well that good and bad were more closely related than most people suspected.

  CHAPTER 21

  Everyone was waiting. It was the hardest part of any sting operation.

  Barrowman’s charity buffet was due to begin tomorrow at midday and would go on into the evening. The entire community would be there and, based on the new information from Charlotte, they now knew that all five burglaries would happen at some point after twelve noon and would happen simultaneously.

  The five addresses, selected by Ridley, would all be under surveillance from the second they became vacant.

  The targeted homeowners were unaware of what was about to happen. Hearst had decided that sharing this knowledge with them could compromise their safety and, in turn, the success of the operation: the gang had to be allowed to enter the properties and be caught in the act.

  The police presence around the charity event itself was high profile. Uniformed officers mingled with thousands of locals and visitors in a show of force. Hearst wanted the gang to think that all resources were focussed in the wrong place; but the central location of Barrowman’s event meant that these officers could be dispatched as backup in the blink of an eye.

  *

  Lee perched on the edge of the sink, staring at the single closed cubicle door. The toilet flushed, the door opened, and Mason stepped out. ‘Jesus, Eamonn. You scared the life out of me.’ As Mason washed his hands, Lee talked.