Word must have spread like wildfire as, not long after 7.30 a.m., the banging on her door made Jo think the Met were coming back for another go.
After a cursory glance in the hallway mirror, she filled her lungs and opened the door. A wave of relief washed through her as she was greeted by the only two people she’d trust to be on her side.
‘Are the boys here?’ said Gary, as he stepped over the threshold.
‘Er, do come in,’ said Jo, moving to one side, allowing Bob through too. ‘No, my mum’s got them.’
‘Great, we’re going for breakfast.’
Jo looked at Bob, hoping he’d offer more explanation than her bullish deputy. He just shrugged and remained silent.
‘Don’t you two do anything without food in front of you?’ said Jo. ‘I do have some shit going on you know.’
‘No one’s forcing you to eat, although I’d recommend it. Let’s go.’
‘Why not here?’ said Jo.
Bob looked around. ‘I see you’ve had the Met Police’s finest through 156here, although their housekeeping skills could do with some work.’
‘None taken,’ said Jo, wondering why the blokes in her life couldn’t spot that she’d tidied up.
‘As I was saying, not the best place to talk.’ He touched his lips. Jo instantly twigged. As well as taking every electronic device they could find, who was to know whether they’d planted one or two? Suddenly, she remembered Darren breaking his bail conditions just a few hours ago. Christ, how could either of them have been so stupid? If this place was bugged as Bob was suggesting, she’d be in as much trouble as her husband.
Fifteen minutes later, they’d grabbed a table outside Carat’s Café behind Shoreham Harbour. They’d chosen wisely. The soulless, pencil-straight and barely used road that served the harbour’s warehouses, the beach and the café was perfect for ensuring they weren’t being followed. However, Jo did think it was slightly unnecessary to turn off her location settings before they left, but she was beyond arguing.
‘What you having?’ said Gary, making the three words sound like one.
‘The works for me,’ said Bob.
‘Bacon sandwich and a coffee please,’ said Jo.
Gary and Bob looked at each other in shock. ‘Coffee?’ said Bob. ‘Not hot water?’
‘I need a booster. Strong coffee and stick an egg in that sandwich.’
‘You’re the boss,’ said Gary as he went inside to order.
‘You OK?’ said Bob.
‘Not really. I should have expected this.’
‘Eh?’
‘Darren was being blackmailed by his editor. He had to write an article throwing me under the bus or he’d rake up stuff from the past.’
‘Are you sure?’ She glared at him. ‘OK, what sort of stuff?’
‘Crap about him buying information from the Met, but it was all down to the fucking editor himself.’
Bob fiddled with a stray plastic stirrer. ‘Why would he do that? It’s a bit close to home.’ 157
‘That’s what I’ve been thinking. He’s thick as shit so I’m convinced he’s been forced into this by someone higher up.’
‘Who?’
‘If I knew that, don’t you think I’d have gone after them? Whoever it is though, they’re not going to stop, are they?’ She massaged her temples. ‘I know you warned me yesterday but when it hits you personally, it feels kind of different.’
‘Darren’s innocent, we know that, but we’ve seen them do far worse than this to those who’ve got in their way.’
‘But why go for him? This is on me.’
‘Exactly, and what better way to attack someone than take the ones they love.’
Gary shouldered the door open, balancing three mugs on a tray. ‘Food’s coming.’ He placed it on the table, sloshing the overfilled contents as he did so. ‘Bollocks,’ he said.
Jo helped herself to a wad of napkins from the dispenser on the next table and mopped up the mess. ‘You need more practice.’ She took the nearest cup and sipped. ‘Jeez, that’s disgusting. How do you drink this tar?’
‘Working with you, I need all the chemical armour I can get.’
Jo couldn’t help but grin, but it did little to soothe the angst that was eating her up.
Once Gary had taken a seat, he cut to the chase. ‘Right, Darren’s in the shit.’
‘Thanks for that.’
‘No, listen. As I say, he’s in the shit and with everything we know it’s not of his making, but whoever is behind this knows what they’re doing and it’s not the endgame either.’
‘Really? What is then?’
‘Not sure, but given we know they are prepared to kill police officers, drugs workers and addicts to further their cause, it’s going to be more than trumping up a charge against the top dog’s husband …’
‘Charming.’ 158
‘This is only a means to an end. Bob?’
‘Thanks boss. I’m doing some digging. Trying to work out who’s not only got the most to gain by attacking those who threaten the drugs market, but also who’s got the capability. And that means money. Big money.’
‘Don’t keep me in suspense. What have you found out?’ said Jo.
‘Nothing just yet.’
‘Great.’
‘Hear me out. This is not some local tier-three dealer protecting their patch. It’s far bigger than that, and I wouldn’t mind betting it’s someone who has direct access to massive wealth but high-level influence too.’
‘Who then?’
Bob was about to continue when a cheery forty-something man in a blue and white striped apron appeared with two huge breakfasts and Jo’s bacon and egg butty.
‘Get you anything else? Sauces?’
Before either of the men could reply, Jo said, ‘No, we’re fine, thanks.’
Once he was out of earshot, Jo repeated her question.
‘No idea just yet but we need to look at all the big-money people who have anything to lose by Op Eradicate and, between us, target them.’
‘Target them? How are we going to do that with bugger all intelligence?’ said Jo, the irony not lost on her that she’d once thrown Bob into mortal danger on far less.
‘Well, I’m not going back undercover,’ said Bob, clearly thinking the same. ‘We need to provoke them. Make them do something …’
‘I know what provoke means, you don’t need to mansplain.’
‘Make them do something to show out, then we hit them.’
‘Really?’
‘Really,’ said Gary. ‘Bob’s right, and unless we do this soon, more people will die and they might be closer to home than we could imagine.’
Jo instantly lost her appetite and any residual taste for coffee. She dialled her mum, barely able to speak when she eventually picked up.