The tiny muscles in Jack’s lower eyelids flinched, as the horror of what Jessica must have gone through flashed through his mind.
‘That’s the reaction I wanted from Steve when I told him. But you know what he said? “Who’s Jessica Chi?” He’d already forgotten the name of the victim in the greenhouse.’ Ridley drained his glass. ‘So, he can lead on the investigation. He can have his international drugs gang and all of the kudos that goes along with that, and we’ll help him when he needs it. But we will go after the people who killed Avril Jenkins and Jessica Chi.’
Chapter 12
One and a half bottles of wine later, Ridley was still there, passing on random information as it came to him. Josh had shared intel from the national operation he’d been heading up for the past several months. Although they still had no leads on who the main players were, they had learnt about some of the methods of transportation, the latest being a small fleet of light aircraft, the closest of which they suspected flew out of Farnham. It was already under surveillance, together with the pilot and the aircraft’s owner. It had displayed no suspicious activity in over three months, but Josh insisted on remaining focussed because this level of overcautious downtime among drug gangs was common in the States.
‘Josh isn’t sure that they’ll try and come back for their stuff — the volume of drugs and weaponry we found is all relative, and Josh thinks it’s probably not worth it for them. But, regardless of that, the last order Steve gave was that a plainclothes undercover surveillance team from his squad must be in and around Avril’s home, 24/7.’
‘That team should be yours, sir.’
‘We’ve got visible uniforms there as a matter of course, doing door-to-door, searching the immediate area and woodland, checking car plates — looking the way a murder investigation should. As we thin out, Steve’s men will stay in place. And Steve’s issuing a press release tomorrow morning. It’ll mention the cannabis, but nothing about the rest of the drugs haul. The police presence will be explained as a standard response to a reported break-in, resulting in the discovery of Avril Jenkins’ body. No details of how she died will be shared and Jessica Chi will be kept out of the papers altogether.’
‘Well, if this smuggling operation goes as far and wide as Josh suggests, then I bet he’s right when he says they can afford to write Avril’s house off as a loss. I can’t see them coming back,’ Jack said.
Ridley firmly disagreed, but Jack knew that was only because he’d put all his bloody eggs in Steve’s basket, so he had to believe that Steve’s surveillance strategy would work.
‘And you’re attending the Drug Squad briefing in the morning, Jack. I need to know if they — we — have CCTV footage of Avril’s murder due to the discovery of the set-up in the cellar. In the afternoon I’m meeting Terence Jenkins off his flight from California.’
Jack wanted to ask Ridley straight up why he was really splitting him from the rest of the team, but then a floorboard creaked from upstairs making both men freeze. Jack looked at the clock on the walclass="underline" 12.15 a.m. ‘I’ll get off now,’ Ridley whispered. But it was too late. As he reached for the lounge door handle in an endeavour to sneak out, Maggie walked in, almost bumping into him. She walked straight up to Jack, took his half-full wine glass and gulped it back.
‘We were whispering.’ As soon as Jack said the words, he realised it made it sound like he was blaming Maggie for being awake.
‘Well, I’d hate to hear you shouting.’ Maggie took the empty glass into the kitchen. ‘Thank God Penny’s on the top floor.’
Ridley stood perfectly still, making no noise whatsoever, in the hope that Maggie wouldn’t even notice he was there. She returned to the lounge, eating a cold dauphinoise potato, sipping on a fresh glass of wine and smiling in Ridley’s direction. ‘You said yes, then, Simon?’ Ridley raised his eyebrows quizzically, as though he should know what Maggie was talking about. ‘To being best man. Is that not why you boys are making your way through the wine rack?’
Jack wished to God that Maggie hadn’t woken up. He wasn’t at all sure if he wanted Ridley as his best man, seeing how fragile their relationship had been of late. Not that he had a plan B; Penny was right about that. ‘I was about to ask you, sir... if you want to... no pressure.’ Ridley’s still-confused expression made Maggie ask Jack whether he’d even given Ridley his invitation. ‘We’ve been busy, Mags. I meant to... it’s in my desk, sir. I think. Or my bag. I’ll check tomorrow. The wedding’s on the twenty-seventh of this—’
‘Twenty-fifth.’ Maggie gulped more wine.
‘Twenty-fifth of this month.’ Then Jack said the words he should have said about three days ago. ‘We’d all love it if you were there as my best man.’
Ridley gracefully accepted, saying that it would be his honour to be such an integral part of their big day. He then moved towards the front door, ordering an Uber as he went.
The frustration Maggie felt at being woken quickly disappeared. ‘Just because the job is losing Ridley, doesn’t mean you are,’ she said softly.
Jack snatched up a clean glass and poured himself some wine. ‘Jesus, Maggie, you make me sound like some lovestruck fucking girl.’ He immediately regretted his words. ‘I’m sorry. He could go out on a high, you know. He’s exceptional. But instead of giving this case everything he’s got left to give, he’s handed it to the Drug Squad. Sometimes there’s a spark of the old Ridley, but it doesn’t last long.’ Jack looked like a child who’d just realised that Superman wasn’t real. ‘I don’t want to remember him like this. I want to be proud to have worked alongside him.’
Maggie rested her cheek on his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist. ‘Do you want to hear about my day instead?’
Jack kissed the top of her head and said that he’d be happy to listen to her troubles instead of thinking about his own.
In a nutshell, Maggie was exhausted. Since the pandemic, nothing had been remotely normal. They were all working back on their own wards and in their own specialities, instead of making up the numbers in ICU; but their workload was now triple what it should be due to all of the postponed operations from the years in lockdown. Hundreds of people were now so much closer to death than they should be, and every day was filled with new horrors. Just last week, Maggie had to tell one man that his tumour had grown significantly during lockdown and was now too big to remove. His lifesaving operation was no longer an option; so, she sent him home to die with his wife and three children.
Maggie slumped down on the sofa, then slid forwards so that her backside was hanging off the front of the cushion and her chin was folded into her chest. She sat her wine glass on her stomach, tipped it until the rim hit her bottom lip, then poured wine into her mouth.
Maggie’s anecdote made Jack ask about their friends Regina and Mario whose baby girl had a life-threatening illness.
‘Money’s their biggest problem — no surprise there,’ Maggie told him. ‘Regina’s nursing post at the hospital couldn’t be kept open because she was taking far too much time off with little Princess. Not her fault, but with the extra staffing pressures caused by the pandemic, it had to be filled. Mario’s still decorating and he’s taken on some odd jobs to help keep their heads above water. Princess is doing well on the new treatment from the US... all being paid for by their “mystery benefactor”.’
Since the day Maggie told Jack that she knew the £100,000 donation to Princess’s medical care had come from him — money he should have handed over as evidence, but decided to put to better use — she’d never mentioned it again. On the rare occasion that Regina’s family came up in conversation, Maggie always used the words ‘mystery benefactor’ — it seemed to make her feel more comfortable.