From the moment Leo Spencer was found with a blunt threat to his dad’s life in his tiny hand, Jo’s day became turmoil. There was a time, when she first took senior command, that the oh-so-important meetings that cluttered her diary took precedence over real police work. Over the last two years, however, she had recalibrated her priorities to the degree where some accused her of actively looking for operational distractions. Gary Hedges had turned it into an art form long before she’d arrived on the division and she was happy to learn from the master.
The kidnap of any three-year-old boy in broad daylight from a crowded swimming pool always trumped strategising round a table, whether or not he was a police officer’s son. Jo had taken direct control of the hunt for the woman whom Leo had said gave him the picture, alongside managing the pandemonium the press were creating and the very real threat to DS Luke Spencer’s life. Gary had offered to take charge but she felt she owed it to Luke and his family, given the abduction and the warning were surely linked to Op Eradicate. It was after midnight before she’d got home and now, seven hours later, she was back behind her desk. 147
Glancing down the 240 unread emails hoping to spot one that might be vaguely important, she was aware of a figure lurking in her doorway. She looked up and saw Bob, shifting from foot to foot, rubbing his injured arm.
‘Well, come in if you’re going to.’
‘Thanks.’ He walked over and stood, vaguely to attention, in front of her desk.
‘Well we’re not doing the headteacher–pupil thing. Sit over there.’ She gestured to the small round conference table which filled the space between her and Gary’s desks, and walked to join him, closing the door on the way. ‘What’s up? Luke OK?’
‘Oh, yes. Well sort of. He’s taking a few days off to recover.’
Jo nodded. ‘Good. So how can I help?’
‘Well, we’ve got a bit of a problem with Eradicate.’
‘Understatement of the year,’ she muttered.
‘No seriously, I can’t find anyone to work on it.’
‘What? Well pay some overtime or something. I get that we’re busy but this is part of what we do now.’
Bob shook his head. ‘It’s not staffing levels. We can manage those, for once. No, people are refusing to work on it.’
‘What do you mean, “refusing”? When did we stop becoming a disciplined service?’
Bob avoided her gaze, then met it. ‘It’s not that straightforward. Firstly, we can’t get any replacement undercover officers. That’s not just a case of ordering someone to do it. The National Crime Agency are saying there’s no one available, but I know that’s code for they don’t feel safe.’
‘Well I’ll get the ACC to escalate it.’
‘It’s not just them. The whole CID are saying they don’t feel protected enough to work on it.’
‘Protected? This is the bloody police service. We’re the ones who do the protecting.’ 148
Fiona, her PA, appeared at the door, her raised eyebrow asking if she could come in. A terse shake of the head was all it took to send her away.
‘With respect, ma’am, you need to see it from their point of view. They’ve seen Lizzie murdered in front of two cops, me get knocked over, an undercover officer and his target shot dead and now the case officer’s little boy snatched and returned with a death threat. Why should they feel safe?’
Jo heaved a breath out and rubbed her eyes. ‘I do understand, but we can’t give in to intimidation. We all know where that would end, don’t we? At least you’re still onside, eh?’
Bob paused just a beat too long.
‘Bob?’
‘I’m getting too old for this shit. Look what I’ve been through over the last couple of years. I should be winding down for retirement. Steve and I have plans and I’ve every intention of living the good life with him, not watching over my shoulder.’
‘For God’s sake Bob. You’re supposed to be a leader. I know how people are feeling, but you need to show some steel. Get out there and reassure, inspire, bribe if you have to, but we can’t have people picking and choosing what they’ll investigate.’
Bob stood, the look of an exhausted warrior across his face, shook his head, turned and began to walk out. As he got to the door, he turned and said, ‘You’re not going to be able to dictate your way out of this. You must do something or your pet project goes down the drain.’
Jo stood, about to shout for him to come back when her mobile phone rang.
‘Jo Howe.’
‘Ah, good morning, ma’am, it’s the custody sergeant at Worthing.’
She took a breath. ‘How can I help you?’
‘Yes, it’s a bit sensitive but we have a Darren Howe here who says he’s your husband.’
‘What do you mean?’ 149
‘Is he your husband, ma’am?’
‘Well yes, of course he is, but what do you mean, “here”? In what capacity?’
Jo’s heart thumped.
‘Mr Howe has been arrested by the Met Police on suspicion of corruption, aiding and abetting misconduct in a public office and conspiracy. He’s asked that you be informed.’
Jo grabbed the desk to steady herself. ‘Is this some kind of joke?’ She regretted that outburst the second it left her lips.
‘With respect, ma’am, you know the answer to that.’
‘What’s it in connection with?’
The sergeant’s voice dropped to a whisper. ‘From what I can gather it’s an historic allegation. Something about paying the police for information about an arrest.’
Jo could barely get her ‘thank you’ out before the blood drained from her.
Years ago, Jo had returned home after a burglary, but somehow this invasion of her privacy seemed far more intrusive.
Unlike last time, this carnage was the work of a so-called specialist search team. Whether the Metropolitan Police had deliberately left the house looking like a war zone in some spit back at her being in the job or whether this was their normal modus operandi she had no idea, and frankly she didn’t care. All she was worried about was how to get the place back into some semblance of normality before her mum dropped the boys back.
Standing in the lounge, she didn’t know where to begin. Drawers were strewn all over the floor, their contents left scattered as if by an explosion. Cables hung redundantly where laptops, the Xbox and even printers had once sat. Nothing that could feasibly hold data was left. No phones, tablets, memory sticks, not even that know-all Alexa which in better times she’d have paid someone to take away. This was spiteful, plain and simple. 150
She set about numbly stuffing the debris where it might have once belonged, but her mind was fixed on what would become of Darren, her and the job now.
It took a good four hours, close to 10 p.m., before the house looked halfway respectable. She Whatsapp’d the all-clear to her mum and within fifteen minutes her car drew up outside.
Jo coughed subconsciously and straightened her back as the bell rang and the excited chatter of the lights of her life rippled through the door. She’d barely opened it when the boys burst through and latched onto a leg each. Her mum threw her a It’ll be fine look, with a wink and a smile, before she eased past Jo.
‘Mummy, we’ve had the best time. Nanny took us bowling and we had pizza and ice cream afterwards,’ said Ciaran as he ran into the lounge.
‘Tell her who won,’ shouted Liam as he chased after his brother.
‘Only ’cos you had the ramp and gutter-guards, didn’t he, Nanny?’
Jo looked at her mum, who grinned and nodded, as they followed in the boys’ wake.
‘Hey, where’s the Xbox?’ said Ciaran as he stood at the nest of wires on the TV unit.
‘And my iPad. It was here,’ said Liam, running to the empty coffee table.
It broke Jo’s heart to see the tears burst from both boys’ blue eyes.
‘Come here, come here,’ she said, her arms stretched out to receive each of her distraught darlings.
‘Drink?’ mouthed her mum. Jo nodded and waited for her to leave.
‘Listen, it’s fine. Some people have had to borrow them for a little while but they’ll bring them back soon.’
‘But why didn’t they ask?’ said Ciaran. ‘If you want to borrow something you have to ask.’
‘That’s stealing,’ said Liam, summing up where his brother was going with this. 151
‘Not really. They needed to borrow them and Mummy and Daddy said they could, but we’ll get them back.’ Jo hated the hole she was digging with these lies. How would she ever explain that Darren had been arrested for corruption and that God knows how many pairs of size ten boots had stomped through their house ripping everything apart, looking for evidence of some trumped-up allegation.
‘I hate you,’ said Ciaran with a venom she’d never seen in either of the boys before. ‘I hate you, hate you, hate you. I want Daddy.’ Jo grabbed his shoulders and twisted him to face her. ‘Ow, you’re hurting me. DADDY. DADDY!’
Jo instantly let go of him, letting him flop back on the settee. Liam stared at her in terror.
What was happening to her? This was a nightmare but to take it out on the kids?
Her mum came running back in. Jo felt like a little girl again as she spun her head round and, with a look, implored her mum to help.
As only a mother can, she instantly got it. ‘Boys, how would you like a sleepover at Nanny’s tonight? I’ll even make pancakes for breakfast.’
Jo mouthed ‘thanks’, as the boys scurried to their grandmother as if Jo were the stranger the school insisted on warning them about. ‘I’m sorry boys. Mummy’s very tired and just waiting for Daddy to come home. I’ll pick you up tomorrow and we’ll do something fun.’ Even that promise didn’t seem to cut it and both boys nestled tighter into their nanny, looking terrified of Jo.
Thirty seconds later, they were gone and Jo was inconsolable on the same settee she’d practically dropped Ciaran on moments before. Why couldn’t she stop these things happening? She felt her whole world crumbling and there was nothing she could do to stop it. All she could do for now was numb the pain, and she was relieved to find a bottle of wine chilling in the fridge. 152
Jo woke with a jolt when the key scraped in the lock. She was still on the sofa, her head pounded and her mouth was arid. ‘Hello. Who’s that?’ she said as she rubbed her eyes, conscious that she was in no state to receive visitors. She checked her watch as she heard the distinct growl of a diesel taxi engine fade outside. 3.30 a.m.? She stuffed the empty wine bottle behind a cushion and put the picture of her sister Caroline she’d found by her side back on the mantelpiece.
‘It’s me,’ said Darren, flatly.
As he stood in the doorway, she realised that compared to him she looked banquet-ready. His hair was spiked in all directions, the jacket and shirt he’d pressed that morning looked like it had been slept in and his usually proud posture wilted.
‘You OK?’
‘Jesus Christ. What the fuck have they done to the place?’
Jo struggled to her feet and moved to embrace him. ‘Thanks, this is after I’ve tidied up.’ She wrapped her arms around him but his hung limply by his side. Releasing him, she stepped back. ‘What?’
‘I’m on bail but I’m pretty certain I’m going to prison.’
Jo reached out and took his hands, this time determined not to be rebuffed. ‘Come and sit down, it’ll be fine. Tell me what happened but let me get you a beer first.’
Over the next two hours he took her through everything. The arrest, the handcuffs, the body search at custody, the solicitor – if that’s what he really was – then the interview. That was the worst bit. They made it sound like he was some kind of traitor ready to bring down the monarchy, the government and a whole way of life.
At intervals, Jo tried to reassure him that these were just the games some officers played, while mentally noting how to make their worthless lives a living hell when all this was over.
Darren topped it off with the bombshell she knew she was expecting.
‘They said they’re coming after you, Jo.’
‘Me? I’ve done nothing wrong.’ 153
‘Oh, but I have, have I?’
‘No, no, I didn’t mean that. Someone’s fitted you up, I get that, but how does that extend to me?’
Darren just looked at her. Then the penny dropped.
‘The undercover officer thing? Oh, please, how can they think I was behind that?’
‘In fairness, that’s what you’d think isn’t it?’
He was right, of course he was. It was not so much a leap, more a skip to think: if he’s taken a bung from a corrupt officer before, then why not marry one?
‘Anyway, I’m out on bail and there are conditions.’
‘There always are. What are they?’
‘Report to the police three times a week, surrender my passport, and here’s the killer.’ He paused.
‘Go on.’
‘Other than signing on or reporting a crime, I’m to have no contact with any serving police officer.’
‘Except … ?’
‘No exceptions. I can’t even be here now, but I had to tell you in person and collect some stuff. I’m allowed no contact with you, so can’t even live in my own house.’
‘YOU WHAT?’ Jo instinctively grabbed her phone and stabbed in the passcode.
Darren took her hand and eased the phone from her. ‘Leave it. I’ve got to live at my mum’s. We’ll get a proper lawyer, but for now I’ll just grab a bag and go before I get found out. The best you can do is act normal, look after the boys and keep yourself safe.’
Jo grappled with what to say, her emotions were seesawing so much. It was an obvious bail condition when she thought of it but, for the first time, she was feeling the turmoil she’d inflicted on so many over the years. She’d never given it a moment’s thought until now.
‘It should be me saying all that stuff to you, you know.’ 154
Darren smiled for the first time. ‘Yep, but I got fed up waiting. Look, I need to go. Can you book me an Uber while I get my gear?’ They both stood, looked at each other, then hugged as if it were their last day on earth.
Ten minutes later, Darren was gone and Jo had no idea how she’d carry on.