As he made his way through the luscious green farmland, he couldn’t help but wonder if he was now on a fool’s errand. He’d become obsessed with tracking this elusive man yet, if he was honest, it was based on nothing that would stand up in court.
Jack arrived at the Victoria House Hotel at 3 p.m., just in time to be allowed to check in. The concierge was shocked when she saw Jack enter carrying one small, tatty black rucksack and splattered in mud from his knees down — but the BMW M3 humming outside the main door waiting to be valet-parked allayed her fears. Once he’d signed in and left his card details, he was directed to his room. Jack looked through various leaflets for local attractions that had been left on the dresser, then FaceTimed Maggie. She was sitting in the staff room on DeBakey Ward, with her trainers off and her stockinged feet propped on top of the radiator. Jack held up a leaflet for Lough Leane in Killarney National Park so that Maggie could see the photographs.
She let out a long moan. ‘That looks amazing. I’m desperate to get away, Jack.’
‘It’s a beautiful part of the country, Mags.’ Jack held up more leaflets. ‘Ross Castle. That’s right on the edge of Lough Leane. A puffin colony? You fancy that?’ Jack grinned, expecting Maggie to mock the idea of puffins being a tourist attraction at all. But she screeched, clapped her hands and said that she’d love to sit and watch puffins pottering about on the cliffside. ‘Bloody hell, Mags. You really do need a break!’
Jack then held up a leaflet advertising the staggeringly beautiful Killarney beach and Maggie audibly gasped. Jack’s trip to Ireland had suddenly been worth every second. His eyes then moved from Maggie’s captivated gaze to the reverse side of the leaflet she was looking at: in the bottom left-hand corner was a hand-drawn picture of a hemp leaf, with a smiley face, doing a double thumbs-up.
‘Promise we’ll do it, Jack.’ Maggie’s words regained Jack’s attention. He promised he’d definitely take her on honeymoon to Ireland if that’s what she wanted. Then, with perfect timing, Maggie’s tea break was over, leaving Jack free to find out where the hemp symbol might have come from.
From the hotel bar, Jack watched the staff come and go. He was trying to identify who might be most likely to be involved in the local drug scene. Halfway through his second cappuccino, Jack saw a young porter talking to a chambermaid. He strode over, flashed his Met ID badge and showed them the cartoon hemp leaf.
‘There’s a gang operating in this area, targeting hemp farms. Have you heard of anyone losing crops to thieves?’
The porter didn’t seem to know or care too much, but the chambermaid was outraged by the audacity of it all. She ‘fucking hated thieves’ and was eager for Jack to make sure that her friend’s farm, not five miles down the road, hadn’t fallen victim. Jack got accurate directions and assured her that he’d make sure her friend was safe.
As Maggie tied the laces on her trainers and walked back out onto the main ward, she noticed four suited men standing in the reception area, one of whom she recognised as DC Lyle. He looked different to how she remembered him — authoritative and rather serious, which gave him a rather attractive air of mystery which she’d never imagined he could possess. He looked like a man not to be taken lightly. As they passed and nodded to each other, Maggie realised he reminded her of Jack two years ago.
Chapter 40
Ridley was wrapping up for the evening, after spending all afternoon preparing his team for tomorrow’s onslaught when they were expecting thirteen prisoners to be transferred from the Drug Squad to be interviewed. Some of the prisoners had already been charged with drug offences, from importation to mixing, to distribution; and some were addicts who, after giving evidence against the drugs gang, had been charged with nothing.
However, some of them had admitted to being taken to Avril Jenkins’ home at one time or another, and so needed to be interviewed by Ridley’s team. And they still had a thick file of unidentified fingerprints. He wanted to make absolutely certain that they had all the evidence possible against the two men they had in custody for Avril’s murder. He needed to work out if they were Alpha, Beta or Gamma; and he was, of course, still looking for the third member of the trio. It was going to be a long and exhausting couple of weeks.
Anik was coordinating the transfers and the logistics of detaining so many suspects. Those who’d been charged would wait in cells and those who hadn’t would be held in the canteen under police supervision until it was their turn to be interviewed. Anik was liaising with Moley and — as far as Ridley could make out — neither of them was using the time strictly for talking about the job at hand. In fact, Ridley distinctly heard Anik use the words ‘Rainbow Six Siege’ which he knew was an online multiplayer game. Ridley called Anik into his office and asked to see the interview list.
‘I’ve put me and you down to interview the higher-ups from 9 a.m. tomorrow, if that’s OK, sir. Me, because I’ve been through all the hidden security footage we had from the house so I might be able to pick out any lies. And you, because Jack’s in Ireland.’
Ridley remained motionless. His fingers tightened around Anik’s newly printed interview schedule.
‘Remind me why Jack’s in Ireland tomorrow.’
By the forced calm in Ridley’s voice, Anik instantly knew that Ridley hadn’t known about the trip. He quickly stuttered an explanation about Jack still being on leave, so he’d taken the opportunity to go to Ireland and check out honeymoon venues. He also made certain that Ridley knew this was all second-hand information from Laura. Within thirty seconds, Anik had scurried out of Ridley’s office and Laura was now the one in the firing line.
‘I think he just needed some downtime, sir. Tania Wetlock when she was alive was enough of a threat to his career, but now she’s dead he could end up being sacked or even arrested.’
‘I know all that. I’m asking why he’s in Ireland. And don’t tell me he’s checking out honeymoon venues. Ireland is one of many onward destinations for the drugs. Ireland is one of Michael Mahoney’s hideouts. We also know Ireland forms a part — no matter how small — of Avril Jenkins’ past. So, Laura, correct me if I’m wrong... but, after being told by Hammersmith CID not to leave the country, Jack is now over there attempting to track down Adam bloody Border.’
Ridley stormed back into his office as his desk phone rang. He snatched it up. It was Steve Lewis and before Ridley could speak, he launched into an angry tirade about bringing in Michael Mahoney. He had a team waiting at Heathrow but there had been flight cancellations and it was costing a fortune to retain the armed guards and transport to bring him directly to the Drug Squad. He also complained that before they had even seen him, let alone questioned him, there were calls from his legal team demanding immediate access.
‘I know he must be aware of all the arrests we’ve made, so he must be shitting himself, but I won’t allow any fucking bigwig lawyer to get their hands on him before I have him.’
Ridley let Steve continue his frustrated vent before he interrupted to say that with all the arrests the Drug Squad had passed on to his team, they were stretched to the limit. He also said that they had not yet uncovered which of the suspects in custody had murdered Avril Jenkins. ‘Which, obviously, Steve is our priority, not the transporting of Michael Mahoney — but thank you for the update.’
Ridley slammed the phone down before Steve could reply and picked up his mobile.
Jack’s mobile silently vibrated on the bar table next to him.