Ridley left his office without another word.
Jack was in shock. At first, he tried to make sense of what had just happened, then he realised that the far greater issue was how the hell they’d find their way back from the insults they’d just thrown. Jack stood in the middle of Ridley’s office for what seemed like an age and finally decided that there would be no way back for them.
He looked up to see Ridley standing in the doorway. His eyes were lowered, and they flicked around the worn grey carpet, searching for the words he needed.
‘I’m not retiring. I’ve got cancer.’
Chapter 17
Jack stood with his arms round Maggie’s waist and his head on her shoulder as she soaked the oven dishes and explained the three-course menu Penny had planned for Josh’s visit. Throughout her chatter, Jack stared out of the window in silence. ‘Chicken and beef, Yorkshire puds. A load of veg, six or seven, one must be creamed mash according to your mum. Stuffing. She’ll make two gravies from the meat juices and, what else, oh yes, bread sauce. She was thinking of doing apple pie and pecan pie, you know, the sort of puddings your new friend might like from home, but then she decided on our old-school favourites. So she’s doing jam roly-poly and treacle sponge.’ Maggie looked up from the sink and saw Jack’s reflection in the blackness of the kitchen window. ‘Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?’
Jack and Ridley stood in silence for what could only have been five seconds but during that time Jack relived the last days of his dad’s life before his cancer finally took him, quietly and unannounced in the middle of the night. Ridley finally spoke. ‘I was going to tell you, but when I didn’t suffer that many side effects from the treatment, I thought... no one needed to know. Superintendent Raeburn knows. And I’m doing OK.’ Ridley paused and Jack made no attempt to fill the silence, letting Ridley find the words. ‘My emotions are so close to the surface at the moment, Jack, that sometimes... sometimes I just need to be on my own in case... in case the anger and frustration — and the fear, if I’m honest — in case it all boils over and I say or do something I can’t take back.’ Ridley took a step forward and picked his wedding invitation up off the floor where he’d thrown it. When he stood upright again his eyes were red and glistened with the threat of tears. His voice had reduced to a whisper. ‘Can I take this back?’
Of course, Jack had said yes, and Ridley had gone home. And that was it. Jack hadn’t asked any questions and Ridley had done all the talking he was prepared to do for one day.
Now Jack kissed Maggie on the neck. ‘Bad day. The menu sounds great.’ Jack kissed Maggie again, told her that he loved her and went upstairs for a shower. Maggie knew something more was wrong. But she also knew that whatever it was, he wasn’t ready to talk about it.
Ridley led the morning briefing with his old methodical, laborious attention to detail. He was back. He was strong, encouraging, purposeful and leading from the front. He relayed the highlights of his interview with Terence Jenkins, then he handed the room to Jack so that he could relay his conversation with Hester Mancroft — finishing with the revelation that Adam Border was Avril Jenkins’ son.
‘So,’ Ridley summed up, ‘the Amsterdam connection needs following up. Who’s the blonde girl pictured with Adam? Where did his dad live? Is it anywhere near the address we have out there for Jessica Chi? Laura, ask Anik to find out what Josh knows about Amsterdam. Then, if you’re not treading on Drug Squad toes, talk to the Amsterdam police and find out if the name of Adam Border is known to them. Jack, my office, please.’
The conversation in Ridley’s office was... normal. Ridley’s moment of sharing had seemingly been enough for him, and Jack was thankful to be talking about a double murder, rather than Ridley’s health. Ridley made two coffees as he spoke. ‘Anik’s daily reports are, well... I thought I was thorough. He’s found his mojo, that’s for sure. I know it was tough for us to hand the lead to Steve, but Anik’s doing a good job at reporting back, so we’re getting what we need.’
‘You know, guv, I sometimes think that Steve and his mob are holding stuff back. I mean, when I was over there looking at the footage — which they admitted was not in chronological order — they mentioned that the same men had at some point arrived in a Range Rover. They didn’t show me that clip, just said they had traced it and it was a stolen vehicle. We should have been privy to that — just makes me wonder what else they are withholding.’
Ridley handed Jack his coffee and they both sat. Ridley made no secret of getting two bottles of pills from his jacket pocket and taking one tablet from each. ‘I will look into that. In the meantime, it’d be useful to find a list of customers for her hemp oil.’ Jack thought about the secret contents of his own jacket pocket, namely Avril’s little red notebook. ‘Painkillers and an anti-emetic. In case you were wondering. They don’t impede my ability to work.’
‘I know you wouldn’t be here if they did, sir.’ Jack took the opportunity to say the only thing he felt needed saying. ‘I’m not going to pry. But if you need anything, from me or from Maggie, you must ask. The answer will always be yes.’
Jack came out of Ridley’s office, coffee in hand, and stopped by the whiteboards. He was looking specifically at the photos they’d collated so far because, frustratingly, most of them showed people they couldn’t yet identify. Pinned up were two photographs that had recently been added. Avril Jenkins’ Range Rover and the Porsche. Beside the photographs was the updated information from the team allocated to check for fingerprints.
‘When did these come in?’ Jack asked Laura.
‘Early this morning. The Range Rover had numerous prints, mostly Avril Jenkins’, and others checked out. The vehicle had some kind of fault and had been taken in a few months back to the Range Rover dealership in Thames Ditton. The two mechanics that had worked on it were tested and matched. Avril was told that she would need to have the diesel pump changed as it was clogged, but apparently, she only drove it on short journeys and it would be quite costly to replace, so she told them to return it as she was not going to pay for the repair. They left it in her garage parked behind the Porsche.’
Jack was becoming impatient. ‘What about the silver Porsche that we know was driven by Adam Border? Any prints would be vital for us.’
‘I know that, and the forensic team were very thorough but it had been cleaned inside and out. Not one print was found. They even tested the tarpaulin on both vehicles but neither had prints.’
Jack gritted his teeth.
‘That kid...’ Laura waited for Jack to acknowledge that she was still talking to him. ‘It’s her brother. The principal from her school got back to me. David Summers. He’s twelve years younger than Avril. We’re putting a trace out. I’m making progress on Jessica Chi’s background, just a couple more ducks to line up there. But I haven’t found out who that bloke in military uniform is yet.’ Jack suggested that she run the photo by Terence Jenkins to see if he could provide them with an identification. Laura joined Jack at the whiteboards. She seemed fed up. ‘Apart from Hester’s anecdotes and dateless memories, I’ve still got nothing of substance on Adam Border. And I mean nothing, until he rocked up at Chelsea Art College. Which means...’ Laura gave Jack the honour of saying the words out loud.
‘Adam Border didn’t exist before that? We’ve been chasing a false identity.’ Jack took a snap of the unknown man in military uniform on his mobile. ‘Let’s pick up the pace. First one to identify this guy gets a three-course canteen lunch bought for them by the loser. Go!’