Dead at First Sight

122 Friday 12 October

Riley, deep in his hide in the rhododendron bush, heard the sound of an approaching vehicle. Immediately, the CROPS officer radioed the support team.

Moments later the van came into view.

‘Mike Whisky One, do you have visual contact?’

‘Romeo One, a Ford Transit van with Southern Water markings, heading towards target house.’

‘Southern Water?’

‘Yes yes.’

‘Hold station, we are checking.’

‘Hold station, yes yes.’

Riley watched the van drive around the bumpy driveway and pull up in front of the house.

Inside the rear of the van, Tooth, now wearing the dead man’s yellow high-viz jacket, crawled up behind the driver and chopped him hard in the back of his neck, knocking him out. He hauled him over the seat and onto the floor, where he gagged him and tied him up securely with cable from a reel and wound duct tape round his mouth.

He then climbed over the driver’s seat and, as an added precaution, pulled the keys from the ignition.

‘You don’t move, Bob. Understand?’ he said to the unconscious man. He opened the door and stepped out into near darkness.

Doug Riley’s radio crackled. ‘Romeo One to Mike Whisky One.’

‘Romeo One, this is Mike Whisky One.’

‘Mike Whisky One, we’ve just spoken to Southern Water. There is a serious leak in the Forest Row area causing localized water pressure issues. They currently have a number of vehicles out working into the night, checking the pipes and meters of properties in the area, trying to locate and isolate the problem.’

Riley checked his watch as he replied. ‘Romeo One, any idea how long they have to spend at each property?’

‘Five to ten minutes, maximum, Mike Whisky One.’

‘Roger that, Romeo One.’