Judas Horse

Chapter 21

Everyone was waiting. It was the hardest part of any sting operation.

Barrowman’s charity buffet was due to begin tomorrow at midday and would go on into the evening. The entire community would be there and, based on the new information from Charlotte, they now knew that all five burglaries would happen at some point after twelve noon and would happen simultaneously.

The five addresses, selected by Ridley, would all be under surveillance from the second they became vacant.

The targeted homeowners were unaware of what was about to happen. Hearst had decided that sharing this knowledge with them could compromise their safety and, in turn, the success of the operation: the gang had to be allowed to enter the properties and be caught in the act.

The police presence around the charity event itself was high profile. Uniformed officers mingled with thousands of locals and visitors in a show of force. Hearst wanted the gang to think that all resources were focussed in the wrong place; but the central location of Barrowman’s event meant that these officers could be dispatched as backup in the blink of an eye.

Lee perched on the edge of the sink, staring at the single closed cubicle door. The toilet flushed, the door opened, and Mason stepped out. ‘Jesus, Eamonn. You scared the life out of me.’ As Mason washed his hands, Lee talked.

‘He played you. But he didn’t play me.’ Mason immediately understood that Lee was talking about Jack. ‘He went to meet Charlotte Miles in the middle of nowhere. They’re plotting something.’ Mason opened his mouth to object but was shut down before he could say a word. ‘They could both be in De Voe’s pocket for all we know! Still think your new best mate’s the dog’s bollocks? Still trust him?’

‘Yes, I do.’ But Mason’s words now betrayed a tremor of doubt, fuelled by Lee’s paranoia.

‘Then where is he now, Colin? Here with the team, slogging his guts out to make sure every last detail is watertight? Or back in London “undercover” with De Voe? Undercover, my fucking arse!’

Mason dried his hands. ‘Look, I know he isn’t the easiest copper in the world to get along with, but he’s not dodgy, Eamonn.’ Mason suddenly felt the need to undo his top button, as the memory of being strangled by Jack in Mulhern’s barn came flooding back. ‘He’s driven. And he’s good — you can’t deny that he’s good.’

Lee shook his head in frustration. ‘So why was he meeting with Charlotte in the middle of a field if they had nothing to hide?’

‘Same reason we’re meeting in a toilet, I expect,’ Mason responded. ‘Privacy. Sometimes people just need to vent their concerns to someone they trust... and she picked a more pleasant place to do it than you did!’

In the squad room, a low hum filled the air as officers from Oxford and Chipping Norton nailed down the details of the plan to catch De Voe in the act. Davidson had not returned to the fold but had been left in Oxford working on the Mulhern murder. As predicted by Oaks, Davidson had not seen the light of day since being left behind and had been used as a desk-jockey, checking CCTV and cross-referencing case details on the HOLMES database. However, in a real turnup for the books, Davidson had proved to be exceptional at it. He’d developed a love of detail and was now another Bevan in the making. They were all proud of the youngest member of their team and Gifford even FaceTimed Davidson to tell him as much. Gifford wasn’t going to suddenly turn into a great leader of men, but he was now enjoying the new achievements of his team, realising at last that these weren’t new skills they were developing, but skills they’d always had that he’d never bothered to nurture before.

‘Right!’ Hearst got their attention at once. ‘Uniform has reported that a set of temporary traffic lights has gone up on the B4437, just south of Chilson, and another two sets have appeared on the London Road near the Ascott-under-Wychwood train station. These lights are nothing to do with the council. So, ladies and gentlemen, it seems we may have just discovered this gang’s route in and out. Emphasis on the word “may”. Let’s not take anything for granted. DI Gifford, if I divert six uniforms from the charity buffet, pop them into plain clothes and send them your way, can you get them up to speed, please? Deploy them in pairs to each traffic light location. Tell them not to approach any suspicious vehicle under any circumstances. This gang must be assumed to be armed and dangerous and I refuse to lose a single officer to them.’ She paused, and all eyes remained on her, alert to every word. No officer in the Chipping Norton team had ever known her to actually lead a briefing, but she certainly knew how to keep their attention. ‘De Voe remains under tight surveillance in London courtesy of DCI Ridley. Undercover officers have him in sight, his phone lines are tapped, and everyone who pauses for a second in his general vicinity is photographed and checked.’ She paused again. ‘We have this. We’re ready.’

Ridley leant over the back of Laura’s chair, looking at her computer screen. She could smell his faintly musky masculine scent and felt herself flushing. Ridley was reading a transcript from the last recorded phone call between Michael De Voe and Alberto Barro. Although neither man said anything in direct reference to what was about to happen in the Cotswolds, they did mention that, on completion of business, Alberto would get his usual ‘goodie bag’ with a little extra as a going away present.

This audio would be added to the other 137 hours of recorded evidence. When the case ultimately came to court, all of this seemingly innocent material would hopefully take on new meaning and become the foundation of the prosecution. They would certainly need every piece of evidence they could gather because, so far, De Voe had still not put a foot wrong.

Once he’d finished reading, Ridley moved to his office without looking back.

Laura watched him, silently telling him all of the things she would never be able to say out loud. She sounded pathetic, even to herself. Since her epiphany at the courthouse, she’d made two clear decisions: that Ridley was the only man she wanted — and that she’d never tell him, knowing he would never look at her in the same way as she now looked at him. She’d never felt this level of need before, along with the certainty that it could never be satisfied. And that hurt.

Ridley looked out of his office window waiting for Jack to answer his mobile. Eventually, Maggie’s voice whispered in his ear. Her low tone told Ridley that Hannah must be sleeping close by. ‘Hi, Simon. Not sure where Jack is, but he’s left his mobile in the kitchen drawer again.’ This told Ridley exactly where Jack was — with De Voe! Ridley politely chatted to Maggie for another thirty seconds or so, before hanging up and leaving the squad room.

Jack leant casually with the palm of one hand flat on the desk, and his other hand pushed deep into the comfortable pocket of his £200 corduroy trousers. On his way to the emporium, he’d bought a £40 plain white T-shirt, as he knew he couldn’t be seen wearing the same outfit the last time. He hoped it would pass muster.

He casually crossed his bare, fake-tanned ankles and chatted to Betina about horse breeds. He let her do most of the talking, so as not to betray his ignorance on the subject. It was all he could do to look interested. Last time they met, she’d been chatty enough; now, there was no stopping her.

Once it was Jack’s turn to speak, he found himself starting a conversation that had no purpose other than to test his ability to lie convincingly. ‘The girlfriend has gone cold on me, Betina. She’s abroad with the family business, more than she’s with me. I’ve got the yacht this weekend but, well, with no one to share it with, I may give the whole thing a miss. Monaco; did I mention that? Parked her right next door to Philip Green’s. He’s a card. Have you met him?’

Betina began by saying that she hadn’t had the pleasure of meeting Mr Green, although she had once seen him in a Monaco casino. ‘If you’re inviting me to your yacht, Richard, I’ll have to say no. I’m out of town this weekend.’

‘Anywhere nice?’ Jack asked — instantly regretting it as it made him sound like a chatty hairdresser.

‘Cheltenham way,’ Betina said. ‘And, from there I go straight to my family estate in Argentina for a couple of weeks. I’m due a long break.’

Jack was now sure that Betina was an active member of their gang of burglars and would be in the Cotswolds as of tomorrow. He also knew that if they failed to arrest her she’d be in Argentina before they could catch their breath, and subsequently impossible to extradite.

‘Well, my loss.’ Jack was beginning to realise how incredibly bad he was at flirting. But he’d not had much practice, seeing as he and Maggie had been together since their late teens. ‘Tell Michael I’m sorry I missed him. And I’m looking forward to our day at the races.’

By the time Jack left shop twenty-one, he was feeling very pleased with himself. As the high-pitched brass bell marked Jack’s exit, he was immediately faced down by Ridley pretending to do a little window-shopping. Ridley didn’t say a word — he simply walked away, forcing Jack to follow at a discreet distance.

They finally came together on a bench near the Embankment Gardens.

‘Give me the number of your burner phone,’ Ridley said as soon as they were seated. ‘You have to tell someone, always, when you’re making contact with a suspect. You have to have that safety net of someone knowing where you are. You can’t just... you can bend some rules, Jack, but not these. What if he’d sussed you? What if I hadn’t called Maggie and what if she hadn’t answered your regular mobile and I hadn’t known that that meant you were with him? Go home.’ Then he walked away, like a disappointed dad who was getting very close to the end of his tether.