Ridley and Jack sat in the hidden cellar desperately trying to work out what the hell they were going to do next. If the gang were watching, what would they have seen? The fire brigade responding to a blaze beyond the range of the cameras; police and Drug Squad swarming the property, inside and out; Avril’s body being removed. They would know their operation was completely compromised, and they’d know that evidence was now being collected in connection to the drugs, a murder and another potential one.
‘But what they won’t know,’ Jack speculated, ‘is that we’ve found this cellar. And that we know about their hidden CCTV.’
‘We have to presume that these cameras are being watched,’ Ridley said. ‘Maybe even recording. So, we have to walk back into the kitchen from the main cellar like nothing’s happened. Then we gather the main players in the Drug Squad van, which we know isn’t visible on the outside cameras... and we work out our next move.’ Ridley stood. But Jack remained seated, deep in thought.
‘She told me she was in the process of updating her home security system. Why, when this place is kitted out like Fort Knox?’
‘You’re suggesting that this is something else she didn’t know was right under her nose?’
Jack groaned as he pushed himself to his feet. ‘I don’t know.’ He moved to the drawer containing all of Avril’s personal documents.
‘You can’t take anything out, Jack. If they are watching, we can’t be seen removing anything from this cellar.’ Jack looked down into the open drawer. The elusive red notebook lay on top of an old photo of Avril, looking young and happy.
Jack agreed, bending to close the drawer. When he stood upright, his hand was in his jacket pocket.
The Drug Squad van wasn’t designed for five people. Ridley, Mal and Steve Lewis sat in the only three seats. Jack perched on the desk and Josh stood in the narrow doorway blocking out most of the natural light. All of these key players were now up to speed. Steve bristled as Ridley relayed the order in which things were now going to happen, clearly feeling he should have been part of the decision making before they then both relayed orders down the ranks. But their joint crime scene had just got more complicated than anyone could have foreseen so, for now, Ridley was determined to keep control.
‘We need to find out if there’s an external feed to this CCTV before SOCO goes in, because they could be watching our every move,’ Ridley said.
Steve disagreed. ‘If they are watching, then the case is already compromised, so speed is of the essence.’
Ridley played to Steve’s need to feel superior. ‘Having seen the technical complexity of the set-up down there, let me make a suggestion, Steve. I think we should send one tech guy down there to establish who exactly has the upper hand — us or them. And the best tech guy in the Met is yours.’ Steve softened as he once again began to feel like his team were the ones in control. ‘Let’s send Moley in. Wearing unmarked overalls. No Drug Squad logos.’
Mark Sinclair looked like a teenager. It wasn’t so much his facial features, but the fact that he was very tall and slender, like he’d just gone through a growth spurt and was waiting for adulthood to broaden him out. He seemed incapable of growing facial hair and also moved like a teenager, taking long, slow strides, and with each step his lazy heels clipped the floor. All of these features and quirks had earned him the nickname of Moley, after Adrian Mole.
Ridley and Steve sat in the Drug Squad van waiting for Moley to do his stuff while Jack and Josh paced the driveway just outside. They had been waiting for almost an hour.
Steve was about to start a conversation about rank, cross-discipline working and the fact that he wasn’t told about the cellar before his team was, when Moley appeared in the doorway.
‘There’s no external feed. I mean there can be, but it’s off. I can’t tell yet if it’s capable of recording or storing but the monitors feed most of the house, even the en suite in the master bedroom. So this is definitely the central hub. Crackin’ set-up, guv. I can’t wait to start taking it apart!’ Then he wandered away, noisily kicking gravel with his heels.
Steve jumped in before Ridley could. ‘SOCO can go in first. Then it’s ours.’
Ridley ignored Steve’s bolshy tone for the sake of a smooth working relationship at this crucial moment in the case. ‘I’m sorry not to have consulted you earlier, Steve, but there was no time. We could have been compromised. Anyway, yes, the cellar’s yours. As are the outbuildings. We can assume they’re more connected to the drugs operation than the murders. I’d like Anik to stay with Moley and act as a two-way interface to keep both sides of the investigation linked throughout. And there’s one filing cabinet drawer in the cellar containing personal items belonging to Avril Jenkins. I’m going to ask SOCO to bring those directly to me.’ Ridley stood, ready for action. ‘My team will focus on the house, the woodland and the pond area.’
‘That’s fine by me, Simon.’ Steve was now content that Ridley was showing him the respect that his rank afforded. ‘The press will want to know about the homeowner and the fire. But we must keep them in the dark about the body underneath our cannabis farm.’
‘Jessica Chi.’ Jack’s pacing deliberately took him past the doorway of the van, as he wanted to be able to overhear the conversation inside. ‘The body under the cannabis farm, sir. Her name is Jessica Chi.’
Steve didn’t care what her name was. Random victims were of no interest to him; he just wanted the dealers, the distributors and the people at the top. ‘If you don’t mind giving us a bit of privacy, DS Warr. We need to get our press stories straight. We’ll let you know when we need you again.’
Jack wasn’t angered or even offended by the way he was being spoken to. The man standing next to Steve was the DCI he answered to. ‘Certainly, sir.’ Jack’s tone was light, with a hint of sarcasm. He then addressed Ridley in a noticeably more respectful way. ‘I’ll head back to the station and wait for Avril’s personal documents, sir.’
Jack left the two DCIs, said goodbye to Josh and headed down the driveway away from the house. As he walked, he could feel the red notebook in his jacket pocket. He couldn’t wait to see what secrets it held.
Chapter 11
Maggie sat at the kitchen table flanked by a stack of unwritten wedding invitations in their open envelopes on her left, and a stack of neatly addressed sealed envelopes on her right. This was one of the jobs Jack felt to be an utterly pointless waste of valuable time, pointing out that half of the people on the guest list lived within walking distance of their house or worked at the hospital, so he couldn’t for the life of him fathom why Maggie was insisting that they got their invitations by post.
But she’d explained that having a wedding invitation drop through your front door felt lovely and special, and that wasn’t something Jack was able to argue with.
Maggie’s hair was wet from her usual after-shift shower and she’d climbed straight into her pyjamas, regardless of the fact that it was only five o’clock. In front of her was an ever-expanding list, which she added to every time something popped into her busy mind. The kitchen was silent, apart from the tinny sound made by the lid on the slow cooker as it was lifted then dropped by the building steam beneath. With no Hannah, Penny or Jack, Maggie was being very productive.
As she sealed an envelope with one hand, she jotted an addition to her list with the other: 2nd dress fitting on Tue. Me, Pen & Han (ask Jack). Two minutes later, she did the same thing again: Best man? (ask Jack). Maggie gave a heavy sigh. When jobs were dependent on Jack doing something, she always worried about them getting done at all.