Eve sat in the armchair by the window in her sitting room, with her laptop on her knees. She had downloaded the file that had been emailed anonymously to her. She assumed that it had come from Alan Peters, but the address was from a Hotmail account, with no recognizable name. It was easier that way, as the police would want to know where it had come from and she could truthfully say that it had been sent to her anonymously. The file consisted of a voice recording dated over four weeks before, just a couple of days before Jason’s murder. The sound quality was not particularly good, with a lot of background noise. From the buzz of conversation and clink of glasses, it seemed as though it had been recorded in a bar or a pub. However, she recognized one of the voices immediately. It belonged to DS Paul Dent, Jason’s close friend and best man. What was also clear, from the conversation that followed with another, unknown man, was that they were discussing the police surveillance operation at the house in Wood Green, where Jason had been killed. The address of the house was specifically mentioned twice, along with details of the basement flat.
‘Thanks for the information,’ Paul Dent said, after a moment.
‘You’re very welcome, Mr Dent.’ It was a rich bass voice and sounded Eastern European.
‘It’s Paul.’
‘OK, Paul. It’s what you wanted, yes?’
‘It’s exactly what I wanted. How much do I owe you?’
‘Nothing this time. It’s on the house.’
‘Really? That’s very generous.’ There was a pause. The recording picked up a female voice, asking if she could clear their glasses. A minute or so later, Paul said, ‘You’re absolutely sure the operation’s still ongoing?’
‘No doubt of it. My sources tell me it’s costing an arm and a leg and the big boss is complaining as always, but they’re nearly done. Probably only another couple of weeks now, then they’ll have what they want and they’ll pull out. You better get on with whatever it is you want to do.’
‘Thanks. I really owe you. How’d you find this out?’
‘It was no trouble,’ the other man said, with a gutsy laugh. ‘You think this woman friend of yours – this policewoman …’
‘Eve.’
‘Yes. You told me her name but I forget. You think she’ll fall for your little prank?’
This time it was Paul who laughed. ‘Hook, line and fucking sinker. Miss Perfect’s got a blind spot.’
‘She trusts you?’
‘Not exactly. But I’ll feed it to a friend of mine. She’s screwing him and he’ll do absolutely anything to please her. She’ll swallow it without question, if it comes from him.’
‘OK. But tell your friend not to go there after dark.’
‘Why?’
‘You just want to get her in a bit of hot water, right?’
‘That’s right.’
‘OK. Let’s just say it’s not advisable to go there at night.’
‘Copy that.’
Rage filled her as she played the recording again several more times, making sure she hadn’t missed any detail and that it was all written down. Don’t go there after dark. Not advisable. Had Jason delayed in telling her, or had Paul wanted to up the stakes? Whichever, Paul would hang for this, at least in terms of his career. He would be finished in the Met and finished, most likely, with his friends. His petty jealousy had cost Jason his life. She wondered who the mystery man was, with the Eastern European voice. It was also not clear who had made the recording. The mic seemed too far away for it to have been him, unless it was sitting in a bag under the table. If so, it was surprising Paul had showed no sign of suspicion. Clearly he trusted the informant. The other, burning question was how Duran had got hold of it, but for the moment, it didn’t matter. The recording was enough for the disciplinary hearing and she would forward it to her solicitor in the morning.
She put down her laptop and sat for a moment, looking out at the night sky. She had been cooped up for almost the entire day, either in her car, driving, or at the police station in Grantham. She had about half an hour before Dan was due over. Before that, she needed to get out, fill her lungs with fresh air and clear her mind. She went into her bedroom and changed into her running gear. As she let herself out of the flat and went downstairs to the hall, the front door opened and her neighbour, Alison, came in, carrying a large bag of shopping and a bunch of bright pink tulips.
‘Going for a run?’ Alison asked cheerily, as the door banged shut behind her.
‘Just a very quick one. Need to clear my head.’
‘I wish I could join you, but I’ve friends coming over for supper. Did you find out who broke into your flat?’
‘No. But they didn’t take anything and they haven’t come back, so far.’
‘Well, Kelly and I will keep an eye out, don’t worry. If we see anything suspicious, we’ll call you.’
Outside, apart from the odd person on their way home from work, the street was dark and quiet, the drone of traffic on the Uxbridge Road the only distant disturbance. She stopped at a neighbouring gate and was stretching out her legs, holding onto the iron post, when she heard a car come up fast behind her. It screeched to a halt, doors opened and heavy feet thudded on the tarmac.
‘There she is,’ a man shouted.
As she turned, someone grabbed her from behind. She felt a huge hand press something over her mouth, as another hand covered her eyes, pulling her backwards off her feet. She smelt the sweet, chemical odour of chloroform. She tried to scream, fighting against a wet rag that was stuffed in her mouth, kicking and ducking, trying to shake herself free. Her foot landed a blow against something hard and she heard a yelp and a gasp.
‘Can’t you fucking hang onto her? She’s like a bloody cat.’ She recognized Damon Wade’s voice.
‘Hit her, grab her legs, or something,’ a second voice said. ‘I can’t get near her.’
‘Man up and get on with it,’ another, gruffer voice replied, right in her ear. ‘Someone’s coming.’
‘Fucking hold her arm, will you?’
Somebody grabbed her by the wrist and wrenched her arm straight. It was being pulled out of its socket and she felt a sharp sting through her sleeve.
‘Got her. That’ll do for the bitch.’
‘Quick. Get her in the car.’
‘Hey! What are you doing?’ a woman yelled, somewhere further down the street. The voice sounded familiar.
Eve tried to call out, tried to pull away from whatever held her, but her legs collapsed beneath her and everything went black.