‘Oh, not to worry, then,’ says Jill. ‘We’d got the go-ahead to let this shipment through customs, and to follow it every step of the way.’
‘Catch Maxwell in the act?’ says Chris.
‘Exactly,’ says Jill. ‘Follow every move, photographs, videos, the lot, and when the heroin was safely in Luca’s hands, therefore safely in my hands, we were supposed to swoop in and arrest Maxwell.’
‘Only it never reached Luca’s hands? Or your hands.’
‘My worst nightmare,’ says Jill. ‘The go-between, Sharma.’
‘Kuldesh,’ says Chris.
‘Drove off in the middle of the night, gets himself murdered, and the heroin disappears.’
‘A hundred grand’s worth of heroin out on the streets, and you with no evidence it ever even existed?’
‘Could have been washing powder in that box,’ says Jill. ‘Until we could test it, and prove it was our heroin.’
‘So they bring you all down from London,’ says Chris, ‘to investigate the murder, but really to find out where the heroin is?’
‘Well, we could have done both,’ says Jill. ‘But yes. Now Luca thought he was on the trail. He had new information, and was going to confirm it today.’
‘Until he got thrown off a car park,’ says Patrice. She is then distracted by the pianist. ‘“Careless Whisper”!’
‘So I’m facing disaster, and an enquiry,’ says Jill. ‘And I’m working in a room full of people I don’t trust, all of whom know it’s my neck on the line, and that my job is up for grabs.’
‘What a mess,’ says Chris.
‘What a mess,’ agrees Jill. ‘And it’s all mine. Which is why I’m asking you, officer to officer, can you help? Do you have the same information that Luca had?’
Chris thinks. ‘Let’s say Donna and I had been looking into it?’
‘Chris, I know you have,’ says Jill. ‘I’ve let you both do it.’
Chris raises his eyebrows. ‘I thought the NCA didn’t trust us?’
‘They don’t,’ says Jill. ‘But I don’t trust the NCA, so I took the chance.’
‘And if I help you with this?’ says Chris.
‘Then, oh, I don’t know,’ says Jill. ‘Then, off the top of my head, I never show anyone the surveillance videos of you breaking into the hangar on the day Dom Holt was murdered?’
Chris looks down at his sweet-potato fries, gives a little nod, then looks back at Jill.
‘You knew I’d broken in?’
‘I knew you’d broken in, I knew Donna had gone to the football.’ Jill starts counting things off on her fingers. ‘I know a man called Ibrahim Arif visits Connie Johnson in prison once a week. I know he also went to visit a woman called Samantha Barnes with a woman named Joyce, who, by coincidence, was outside the hangar when you found Dom Holt’s body. I know she took photos of his files while he lay dead. I also know that she was helped by a man named Ron Ritchie, father of Jason Ritchie, whom you went to visit two weeks ago.’
‘OK,’ says Chris, but Jill hasn’t finished.
‘I know Samantha Barnes, Luca Buttaci and Mitch Maxwell went to visit a retirement village ten days ago and now two of them are dead. I know Donna found Kuldesh Sharma’s phone, but I have no way of proving it, so I hope you’ve been putting it to good use. But, most of all, I knew the more you hated me, the more you would investigate, just to spite me, and I knew that you, and Donna, and this group you seem to hang about with were my best chance of saving my job.’
‘Huh,’ says Chris. ‘I did say you were a good copper.’
‘So have you found it?’ asks Jill.
‘The heroin?’ asks Chris. ‘Yes, we’ve found it.’
‘Can I have it?’ says Jill. ‘Do you think?’
‘Depends. Could you help us find out who killed Kuldesh?’ asks Chris. ‘Do you think?’
‘Huh,’ says Jill Regan. ‘Well, I can tell you a few people who definitely didn’t kill him. Would that help?’
‘It would certainly be a start,’ says Chris.
76
Jeremmy just needs to check he has heard Ibrahim correctly.
‘Heroin?’ he asks.
‘You see, we don’t know what to do with it,’ says Joyce. ‘But we thought, what luck, you seem to be a criminal, and you’re coming to see us.’
‘Where did you get it?’ Jeremmy asks.
‘We dug it up by the allotment,’ says Elizabeth. ‘Believe it or not. Heaven knows what it was doing there.’
‘So we thought,’ says Ibrahim, ‘rather than hand it in to the police …’
‘A lot of admin,’ says Joyce.
‘… perhaps we might branch out and make ourselves a bit of money,’ continues Ibrahim.
‘Pensioners don’t have a lot of cash, old son,’ says Ron.
‘So what do you say?’ says Elizabeth. ‘We give you this bag of heroin, you sell it, and we split the proceeds?’
Jeremmy has been given pause for thought. But he’s not convinced. ‘I don’t like it, I don’t know you. Just give me my five grand and I’ll be on my way.’
‘He’s playing hardball,’ says Joyce. ‘You see it all the time on Bargain Hunt. All right, Jeremmy, we’ve been on Google and looked up how much heroin costs, and it’s a lot.’
Elizabeth offers the heroin to Jeremmy, who wets his finger and dips it in.
‘We are no fools,’ says Joyce. ‘Even though we might look it, and we’ve worked out that we have about twenty-five thousand pounds’ worth of heroin here.’
Ibrahim sees Jeremmy twitch. He knows there is an awful lot more than twenty-five thousand pounds’ worth of heroin in the bag. Greed will always get you.
‘That’s worth fifteen grand, tops,’ says Jeremmy.
‘I just told you we’re not fools,’ says Joyce.
‘What do you say, son?’ says Ron. ‘Help a gang of old fogeys live a little?’
‘Say, you give us five thousand, and you can keep the other twenty for yourself?’ suggests Ibrahim.
Jeremmy takes them all in one more time. This master criminal. ‘Five grand for this bag of heroin?’
‘If you’re agreeable?’ says Ibrahim.
Jeremmy is agreeable. Ibrahim is not surprised. He came here for five grand, and he’s going to walk away with ninety-five grand in profit.
‘And, not that we don’t trust you, dear,’ says Joyce. ‘But could you send us the five thousand by bank transfer before we let you go? Just so we’re sure.’
Jeremmy is packing the hundred thousand pounds’ worth of heroin into his holdall, clearly delighted to have pulled off the scam of the century. Bob hands him an account number, and Jeremmy opens his banking app.
Joyce zips up the bag for him. ‘Can I give you some Battenberg for the train home? The buffet at the station isn’t always open.’
‘No, thanks,’ says Jeremmy, and completes his transaction.
‘Your loss.’ Joyce looks over at Bob, who is looking at his computer screen.
Ibrahim has to hand it to Joyce. She had asked Donna’s permission, of course. While the heroin was in her flat, could she put it to work? ‘I know you’ll want it eventually,’ Joyce had said, ‘but would you mind terribly if we borrowed it for a bit?’
‘All there,’ confirms Bob, shutting his laptop.
Meaning that Jeremmy has just transferred five thousand pounds, every penny he has stolen from Mervyn, straight back into Mervyn’s bank account.
‘Off you pop,’ says Ron. Jeremmy doesn’t need asking twice, and is straight out of the door with his huge stash of heroin.
Joyce picks up her phone and rings Donna. ‘He’s on his way. Yes, the whole lot is in his holdall. Hope you’re not too cold behind that bush.’