Judas Horse Page 22

  ‘He played you. But he didn’t play me.’ Mason immediately understood that Lee was talking about Jack. ‘He went to meet Charlotte Miles in the middle of nowhere. They’re plotting something.’ Mason opened his mouth to object but was shut down before he could say a word. ‘They could both be in De Voe’s pocket for all we know! Still think your new best mate’s the dog’s bollocks? Still trust him?’

  ‘Yes, I do.’ But Mason’s words now betrayed a tremor of doubt, fuelled by Lee’s paranoia.

  ‘Then where is he now, Colin? Here with the team, slogging his guts out to make sure every last detail is watertight? Or back in London “undercover” with De Voe? Undercover, my fucking arse!’

  Mason dried his hands. ‘Look, I know he isn’t the easiest copper in the world to get along with, but he’s not dodgy, Eamonn.’ Mason suddenly felt the need to undo his top button, as the memory of being strangled by Jack in Mulhern’s barn came flooding back. ‘He’s driven. And he’s good – you can’t deny that he’s good.’

  Lee shook his head in frustration. ‘So why was he meeting with Charlotte in the middle of a field if they had nothing to hide?’

  ‘Same reason we’re meeting in a toilet, I expect,’ Mason responded. ‘Privacy. Sometimes people just need to vent their concerns to someone they trust . . . and she picked a more pleasant place to do it than you did!’

  *

  In the squad room, a low hum filled the air as officers from Oxford and Chipping Norton nailed down the details of the plan to catch De Voe in the act. Davidson had not returned to the fold but had been left in Oxford working on the Mulhern murder. As predicted by Oaks, Davidson had not seen the light of day since being left behind and had been used as a desk-jockey, checking CCTV and cross-referencing case details on the HOLMES database. However, in a real turnup for the books, Davidson had proved to be exceptional at it. He’d developed a love of detail and was now another Bevan in the making. They were all proud of the youngest member of their team and Gifford even FaceTimed Davidson to tell him as much. Gifford wasn’t going to suddenly turn into a great leader of men, but he was now enjoying the new achievements of his team, realising at last that these weren’t new skills they were developing, but skills they’d always had that he’d never bothered to nurture before.

  ‘Right!’ Hearst got their attention at once. ‘Uniform has reported that a set of temporary traffic lights has gone up on the B4437, just south of Chilson, and another two sets have appeared on the London Road near the Ascott-under-Wychwood train station. These lights are nothing to do with the council. So, ladies and gentlemen, it seems we may have just discovered this gang’s route in and out. Emphasis on the word “may”. Let’s not take anything for granted. DI Gifford, if I divert six uniforms from the charity buffet, pop them into plain clothes and send them your way, can you get them up to speed, please? Deploy them in pairs to each traffic light location. Tell them not to approach any suspicious vehicle under any circumstances. This gang must be assumed to be armed and dangerous and I refuse to lose a single officer to them.’ She paused, and all eyes remained on her, alert to every word. No officer in the Chipping Norton team had ever known her to actually lead a briefing, but she certainly knew how to keep their attention. ‘De Voe remains under tight surveillance in London courtesy of DCI Ridley. Undercover officers have him in sight, his phone lines are tapped, and everyone who pauses for a second in his general vicinity is photographed and checked.’ She paused again. ‘We have this. We’re ready.’

  *

  Ridley leant over the back of Laura’s chair, looking at her computer screen. She could smell his faintly musky masculine scent and felt herself flushing. Ridley was reading a transcript from the last recorded phone call between Michael De Voe and Alberto Barro. Although neither man said anything in direct reference to what was about to happen in the Cotswolds, they did mention that, on completion of business, Alberto would get his usual ‘goodie bag’ with a little extra as a going away present.

  This audio would be added to the other 137 hours of recorded evidence. When the case ultimately came to court, all of this seemingly innocent material would hopefully take on new meaning and become the foundation of the prosecution. They would certainly need every piece of evidence they could gather because, so far, De Voe had still not put a foot wrong.

  Once he’d finished reading, Ridley moved to his office without looking back.

  Laura watched him, silently telling him all of the things she would never be able to say out loud. She sounded pathetic, even to herself. Since her epiphany at the courthouse, she’d made two clear decisions: that Ridley was the only man she wanted – and that she’d never tell him, knowing he would never look at her in the same way as she now looked at him. She’d never felt this level of need before, along with the certainty that it could never be satisfied. And that hurt.

  *

  Ridley looked out of his office window waiting for Jack to answer his mobile. Eventually, Maggie’s voice whispered in his ear. Her low tone told Ridley that Hannah must be sleeping close by. ‘Hi, Simon. Not sure where Jack is, but he’s left his mobile in the kitchen drawer again.’ This told Ridley exactly where Jack was – with De Voe! Ridley politely chatted to Maggie for another thirty seconds or so, before hanging up and leaving the squad room.

  *

  Jack leant casually with the palm of one hand flat on the desk, and his other hand pushed deep into the comfortable pocket of his £200 corduroy trousers. On his way to the emporium, he’d bought a £40 plain white T-shirt, as he knew he couldn’t be seen wearing the same outfit the last time. He hoped it would pass muster.

  He casually crossed his bare, fake-tanned ankles and chatted to Betina about horse breeds. He let her do most of the talking, so as not to betray his ignorance on the subject. It was all he could do to look interested. Last time they met, she’d been chatty enough; now, there was no stopping her.

  Once it was Jack’s turn to speak, he found himself starting a conversation that had no purpose other than to test his ability to lie convincingly. ‘The girlfriend has gone cold on me, Betina. She’s abroad with the family business, more than she’s with me. I’ve got the yacht this weekend but, well, with no one to share it with, I may give the whole thing a miss. Monaco; did I mention that? Parked her right next door to Philip Green’s. He’s a card. Have you met him?’

  Betina began by saying that she hadn’t had the pleasure of meeting Mr Green, although she had once seen him in a Monaco casino. ‘If you’re inviting me to your yacht, Richard, I’ll have to say no. I’m out of town this weekend.’

  ‘Anywhere nice?’ Jack asked – instantly regretting it as it made him sound like a chatty hairdresser.

  ‘Cheltenham way,’ Betina said. ‘And, from there I go straight to my family estate in Argentina for a couple of weeks. I’m due a long break.’

  Jack was now sure that Betina was an active member of their gang of burglars and would be in the Cotswolds as of tomorrow. He also knew that if they failed to arrest her she’d be in Argentina before they could catch their breath, and subsequently impossible to extradite.

  ‘Well, my loss.’ Jack was beginning to realise how incredibly bad he was at flirting. But he’d not had much practice, seeing as he and Maggie had been together since their late teens. ‘Tell Michael I’m sorry I missed him. And I’m looking forward to our day at the races.’

  By the time Jack left shop twenty-one, he was feeling very pleased with himself. As the high-pitched brass bell marked Jack’s exit, he was immediately faced down by Ridley pretending to do a little window-shopping. Ridley didn’t say a word – he simply walked away, forcing Jack to follow at a discreet distance.

  They finally came together on a bench near the Embankment Gardens.

  ‘Give me the number of your burner phone,’ Ridley said as soon as they were seated. ‘You have to tell someone, always, when you’re making contact with a suspect. You have to have that safety net of someone knowing where you are. You can’t jus
t . . . you can bend some rules, Jack, but not these. What if he’d sussed you? What if I hadn’t called Maggie and what if she hadn’t answered your regular mobile and I hadn’t known that that meant you were with him? Go home.’ Then he walked away, like a disappointed dad who was getting very close to the end of his tether.

  CHAPTER 22

  The journey back to Chipping Norton would have been an arduous one – half by train and half by bus – if Oaks hadn’t agreed to drive to Banbury train station to collect Jack. The twenty-minute car journey covering the final leg began with Oaks regaling Jack about how Gifford and Lee were working hand-in-glove, whilst Mason pined for Jack’s return; how Davidson had had a personality transplant and had become invaluable to the Jacob Mulhern murder investigation; and how Bevan was single-handedly responsible for making all of the whiteboards and case notes make sense. Oaks stopped talking when he realised that his own role had somewhat diminished and he’d fallen back into the routine of being a taxi-driver for DS Warr-from-the-Met. His blushes were saved by Jack’s mobile ringing.

  Charlotte, it seemed, was in a terrible state, as Jack listened to her anxious words. ‘Jessica Yardley has fallen off her horse and is bedridden in a back brace.’ Jack waited for Charlotte to take a breath and put this statement into some sort of context for him. ‘She’ll be at home tomorrow, DS Warr. She lives in one of the target addresses I gave to De Voe and now the whole family will be at home!’ Jack’s mind immediately went into overdrive in an endeavour to find the solution. ‘Jess has got a four-year-old brother, Anthony, then there’s the parents, David and Anne. I can’t let De Voe go to that house now!’

  Charlotte’s use of the word ‘I’, rather than ‘we’ or ‘you’, grated on Jack’s ears. It sounded like she was attempting to take control of the redemption stage of her involvement. Out of fear and desperation, she seemed to be putting her foot down. Jack took a deep breath, gave her the benefit of the doubt and decided just to deal with the immediate problem.

  ‘We’ll move them out, don’t worry. We’ll put them safely into a hotel and then their house will be empty.’

  Charlotte wasn’t mollified. ‘No, no, no, you don’t understand. He doesn’t care that it’s going to be occupied!’

  A shiver ran down Jack’s spine. She’d told him! Jesus Christ, why couldn’t she just keep her thoughts to herself? She’d told De Voe about Barrowman’s impromptu charity buffet and now she’d told him that one of the houses will be occupied.

  ‘Charlotte . . .’ Jack made a point of staying calm. ‘When did you speak to De Voe?’

  ‘I didn’t mean to say anything, I swear I didn’t. It just came out. He called me to . . . to thank me. He said it had been a pleasure working with me but after this week I’d never hear from him again. Then he said. “Goodbye, Miss Miles from Miles Farm near Little Compton,” reminding me that he knows where I live! Anyway, that’s when I said it. I said, “One of the houses has a poorly girl in it, so you can’t . . .” And he cut me off saying that he didn’t care. He said if they got hurt, it’d be my fault because I’m the one who gave him their address. He said I’m in this up to my neck. So, you have to do something, DS Warr. Not for me; for the Yardleys. Do something or I’ll tell De Voe that it’s all a trap and then he won’t come at all!’

  Jack sighed. ‘Charlotte, calm down. I’ll call you back within the hour. Don’t do anything else, are you listening? Just wait for me to call.’

  ‘One hour,’ Charlotte agreed reluctantly. Then she ended the call. Oaks didn’t know what had been said. And, seeing the frown on Jack’s face, he didn’t dare ask.

  As they crawled through the centre of Chipping Norton, up the hill past the village notice board advertising everything from evening classes to riding lessons, Jack could see how the population of this area had suddenly swelled to bursting. Cafés and pubs had spread onto pavements, buskers had come out of the woodwork, and the crowds of tourists moved as slowly as the traffic.

  And Jack’s gang of burglars could well be amongst these faces already, making their preparations. As Jack’s eyes scanned the crowd, he imagined that he saw Betina seated outside a café sipping a cappuccino. He couldn’t help but think that this gang, who’d got away with so much for so long, was mocking him. And that uncomfortable feeling prompted him to come up with an ingenious solution to the new problem Charlotte had just presented him with.

  *

  The squad room was not designed to cater for the numbers of officers currently occupying it. As Jack and Oaks pushed past the extra chairs and made their way to the front of the room, Jack could see that CCTV from in and around Wychwood train station was being fed to several large screens, and the B4437 temporary traffic lights were now also covered by hidden cameras. He remembered the wildlife survey done in Wimbledon Common, where cameras had been rigged in trees and left to watch owls and kestrels come and go from their nests. The same principle was now being used here to watch the traffic lights.

  Jack paused next to Bevan. She was hard at work, compiling a spreadsheet of figures that would no doubt make sense to everyone else once complete. The source material was scattered across her desk, comprising Betina’s bank statements and a list of passenger names, airports and flight numbers from Rio. These had to be the extra hands she’d been asked to bring in, to carry out the five burglaries in one evening. Bevan had even managed to get all of their passport images; although, in truth, after a good haircut and shave, they’d be unrecognisable.

  Once at the front of the room, Jack asked to speak with Gifford, Lee and Mason in private. Oaks was allowed to join them, as he knew about the phone call from Charlotte. This ‘summoning’ immediately got Lee’s back up; but he was determined to control his temper long enough to hear what lies Jack was going to come out with this time.

  ‘Has Bevan ever done any undercover work?’ Jack asked. The blank look shared by Gifford and Oaks said that she hadn’t. ‘The Yardley house will be occupied on the day of Barrowman’s charity buffet. De Voe knows this and has said he doesn’t care, so we can’t give him another address . . .’

  Lee couldn’t hold his tongue a moment longer.

  ‘You mean to say your snout’s been chatting to our prime suspect, without your knowledge?’

  ‘She’s not a snout and he called her,’ Jack said firmly. ‘She’s scared.’

  ‘We only have her word for anything,’ Lee shot back, ‘because she isn’t under our control. She isn’t in police custody and her phone calls aren’t being monitored.’

  Jack ignored Lee’s glare. For now, he was more concerned about sharing the solution he’d come up with. ‘I say we put the Yardleys in a hotel, and leave Oaks and Bevan in their place, posing as the occupants.’

  ‘Absolutely not.’ Gifford’s response was instantaneous. ‘They’re far too inexperienced to be put in harm’s way like that.’ Jack glanced at Oaks, suggesting that he was able to make up his own mind, but Gifford remained firm, holding Jack’s gaze. ‘The answer is no.’ Jack couldn’t believe it. What a time for Gifford to grow a backbone!

  ‘I agree,’ Lee added. ‘I say that anything coming from Charlotte Miles can’t be trusted. And I’m beginning to have my doubts about DS Warr.’

  Up to now, Jack had been trying to avoid a confrontation, but Lee had just crossed a line.

  ‘If you have something to say, DI Lee, say it! Or do you need DCI Hearst to fight your battles for you?’

  Lee ignored Jack, turning to Gifford for support. ‘He’s been meeting Charlotte Miles in secret. Did he tell you that? She calls and he goes running.’ Then to Jack: ‘There’s something going on and we demand to know what the hell it is. This isn’t just protecting an informant; this is withholding evidence. This is collusion.’

  ‘It’s control!’ Jack growled as his temper almost got away from him. ‘I have to make her put helping us above instinctively protecting the most important person in her life. And I’m doing that by making her think that I’m taking risks too. So, i
f she only wants to speak to me, that’s fine. And, if she wants to meet alone with me in the middle of a field, that’s fine too. I’ve never withheld case-relevant information . . .’

  Lee opened his mouth wide as if something had just occurred to him. ‘You fucking her, Jack?’

  Jack launched himself at Lee, landing one solid punch to his jaw that sent Lee tumbling backwards into Oaks. As Lee righted himself, Oaks held on to him long enough for Gifford to step in between and bellow, ‘Stop!’ In the heat of the moment, his Midlands accent came to the fore. ‘If this is the waaay it’s going to be, one of you is leaving my station, never to darken my door agaiiin?! You, Eamonn? Jack? ’Cos I am not having thiiis! I’d tell you to take it outside, but we haven’t got tiiime for you children to have your schoolyard scrap. We were discussing which of my officers to put in harm’s way and if that isn’t deserving of your attention, you can all fuck off!’ Gifford gave the room ten seconds of complete silence, his fierce glare daring anyone to break it. ‘DI Lee, did DS Warr tell me that he’d met Charlotte in private? No, he didn’t. DCI Hearst told me, after DCI Ridley told her. And DS Warr, put your thinking cap on and come up with an alternative to making DCs Bevan and Oaks into targets for murderers, because that, son, is not happening.’

  The conclusion to this shambles came from an unexpected source, as Mason stepped forwards. ‘De Voe’s expecting occupants at the Yardleys’ house, so that’s what we need to give him. I’ve done numerous undercover operations. Why don’t I go in with DC Bevan? I can keep her safe, Joe. You have my word.’

  Gifford softened his glare while he thought about it and Oaks now deemed it safe to let go of Lee.

  No more words were said, but Jack and Lee still stared daggers at each other. Lines had been crossed on both sides, and there was no going back. Gifford ignored them, making it clear that Mason was the only man in the room worthy of his time right now. ‘All right. Ask Bevan if she’s prepared to act as decoy inside the Yardley house. The decision has got to be hers.’ He finally turned to Jack. ‘DS Warr, send DC Bevan in. DI Mason, please stay to answer any questions she might have.’ This was the first direct instruction Gifford had ever given Jack, and he followed it without hesitation. ‘Oaks, be somewhere else, please. And close the door on your way out. And DCI Lee, I don’t need you in my office right now, either.’