Gone

48

Caffery didn’t believe in coincidences. In his book Ted Moon’s lock-up was about as concrete a lead as ever winged its way to an officer of the law. While another DC got the Moons cautioned and into the car, Caffery sat in the shabby little flat making phone calls. Within ten minutes he had two support units on their way to meet him at the lock-up. ‘No time for a warrant,’ he told Turner, as he swung into the Mondeo. ‘We’ll Section 17 it. Threat to life and limb. No need to bother the nice beak. See you up there.’

He drove as fast as he could through the morning traffic, row after row of red brakelights coming on and off in the queues, down the A432 and along the M4 behind Turner’s Sierra. They were less than four miles from the lock-up when Caffery’s phone rang. He shoved the dongle in his ear and answered. It was Nick, the Costellos’ FLO, sounding panicky: ‘I’m sorry to keep hassling you but I’m really worried now. I’ve left three messages and I do think it’s serious.’

‘I’ve been a bit tucked up here. Had the phone on silent. What’s up?’

‘I’m at the Costellos’, the new flat in—’

‘I know.’

‘I was due to turn up for an hour, just to see how they were doing, but I’m here now and I can’t get in.’

‘They’re not there?’

‘I think they are, but they’re not coming to the door.’

‘You’ve got keys, haven’t you?’

‘Yes, but I can’t open the door. They’ve got the chain on inside.’

‘Isn’t there a PC with them?’

‘No. He got stood down last night by DC Prody. But Prody must’ve forgotten he was supposed to tell the local shop when he left because no one was rostered to replace him.’

‘Call him.’

‘I have. His phone’s switched off.’

‘The Costellos, then. Have you tried them?’

‘Of course. I’ve spoken to Cory but he’s not in the flat. Says he didn’t even spend the night there. I think he and Janice had a disagreement. He’s on the way over now. He’s called Janice, too, but she’s not picking up for him either.’

‘Shit.’ Caffery tapped the steering-wheel. They were just coming up to the exit for the A46. He could either go left to Sapperton, or right to Pucklechurch, where the Costellos’ flat was. ‘Shit.’

‘I’ve got to tell you – I’m scared.’ Nick’s voice was wobbly. ‘Something’s wrong here. All the curtains are closed tight. There’s no reply at all.’

‘I’ll come over.’

‘We’ll need an entry team. These chains are solid.’

‘Will do.’

He swerved the car to the right, got on to the southbound A46 and pulled out his phone. Thumbed in Turner’s number. ‘Change of plan, mate.’

‘How so?’

‘Get the units assembled and the lock-up covered. Ring it – wide – but don’t do anything yet. Wait for me. And I want you to get another entry team over to the Costellos’ place. Something’s gone seriously Pete Tong down there.’

‘Three entry teams? Ops are going to love us.’

‘Well, tell them their reward’ll be in heaven.’