If there was one thing being the former head of the Major Crime Unit brought Jo, it was kudos. It had been a while since she had investigated a murder herself but she’d always made it her business to be across any that happened on her patch.
Her reputation and knowledge ensured she always received a warm welcome at murder briefings. DCI Claire Jackson had jumped at Jo’s offer to be there today and, while Jo gave her customary assurances that she was there to listen, not to contribute, both knew that promise was unlikely to be kept. They did agree to a pre-meet though.
Squashed between the tiny circular table and the far wall, Jo waited for Claire to finish her phone call, using the time to scan the wallpaper of association charts, maps and photographs which plastered the office.
‘Sorry, Jo,’ said Claire as she put her phone down and took the chair opposite. Jo raised a hand which said No need.
‘It’s been frenetic on the phone work overnight. Lots to wade through but we’re seeing some overlaps with a couple of the burner phones and the ANPR hits on one of our vehicles of interest.’ 192
ANPR, or Automatic Number Plate Recognition to give it its full title, was a system of fixed and mobile cameras which recorded every registration number they captured. Through it the police could pick up on vehicles of interest, such as stolen cars or those believed to be used to carry guns. More crucially though, providing a driver triggered enough of the ANPR network, you could track their movements, discover who they might have been in convoy with and, like today, link cars to phones.
‘Can you spill the beans?’ asked Jo.
Claire gave her a wan smile. ‘All in good time.’
‘I trained you too well,’ said Jo. ‘So was it the right move to link all the jobs?’
‘Yes, it seems that way. And don’t you dare give me that “I told you so” look.’
‘As if.’ It had taken some battling with Claire’s detective superintendent, but eventually they’d prevailed. Lizzie’s and DC Pete McElroy’s murders together with Luke’s son being snatched and Bob being run over all had the irresistible denominator of Op Eradicate. Despite the accusations that she was blinkered, they couldn’t ignore the common factors.
‘Before we go into the briefing, there’s something you need to know,’ said Claire.
‘OK.’
‘It might just be a reaction, but there are rumbles from a lot of the officers that they’d rather work on another enquiry.’ Jo was about to interrupt but Claire continued. ‘Don’t get me wrong. They’re as keen to catch the bastards behind this as we all are but, well, they’re scared.’
‘I understand that. We’re all feeling at risk.’ Claire gave Jo a nod of understanding. ‘But they’re murder detectives and if they aren’t going to get to the bottom of this, who is?’
‘I know, I’m just saying. Ready to go?’
Jo stood and followed Claire into the briefing room, which had far more empty seats than she’d been expecting. As Claire took to the lectern, Jo peeled off and took a chair on the back row. 193
‘Good afternoon everyone,’ said Claire. ‘Phones away and let’s have your attention. We’ve a lot to get through and not much time.’ She turned to one of the detective sergeants. ‘Is everyone here?’
‘Er, yes, this is it, ma’am. We’ve had quite a few gone sick.’ Jo was about to erupt but caught Claire’s cautionary glare, which was a hallmark of her legendary talents in managing upwards. This was her show, Jo reminded herself, so let her crack the whip.
‘Let’s chat afterwards,’ she told the sergeant. ‘I want to review the sickness.’
Jo could tell that was as much for everyone else’s benefit as it was the DS’s. Nevertheless, this further example of detectives voting with their feet did not bode well.
‘Let’s get started then. Any update from the firearms expert?’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ said the same DS. ‘Their provisional findings are that the rounds came from a .308 rifle which the National Ballistic Intelligence Service have no record of coming to light before.’
‘Do NABIS link with other countries?’
‘That’s their next step, ma’am. They believe the gun was fired from that small copse on the west side of Falmer Road. The car was travelling around fifty miles per hour when it was hit and was only on the straight stretch for about four seconds.’
‘I’ve no idea how they work all that out, but it says to me that whoever pulled the trigger has done this sort of thing before,’ said Claire. ‘Well, update me when we have more. I take it there’s no trace of the shooter in the copse.’
‘None at all. No spent cartridges, no broken branches, nothing.’
Jo pondered that. She knew this was no amateur execution but did this mean they were looking at ex-Special Forces? That worried her more than she’d ever admit.
‘Babu, can you update the meeting on what you told me earlier about the phones and ANPR?’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ said the senior intelligence analyst. ‘From the phone work 194we did in and around the George IV swimming pool when Luke’s boy was snatched, we’ve identified ten unregistered phones there or thereabouts. One of those was in the Seven Dials area – sorry I can’t be more specific than that – when Mr Heaton was run over …’
‘Not much of a burner phone then,’ came a call from the front.
Babu continued. ‘And the other was close to Bedford Square when Lizzie was killed.’
‘That’s two streets away from where it happened, isn’t it?’
‘Correct. And the interesting thing is that one moved quickly away shortly after the murder, as did a car that happened to be near Warninglid just before the lorry crash. Well, that’s what ANPR says.’
They all knew that ANPR was excellent for picking up on registration numbers but couldn’t differentiate a real car from a ‘ringer’ if someone was using false plates.
‘Why were you researching Warninglid?’ said that DS. He then turned to Claire. ‘Is there something sus about the lorry crash?’
Babu chipped in. ‘I wasn’t especially but I ran everything through the software and that’s what came up.’
Jo was itching to ask something, but held it back.
The rest of the briefing was as mundane as they all become, with those few present updating on their plans for the day and offering no more snippets. Jo was about to leave when the DS turned round.
‘Mrs Howe, as you’re here, is there anything you can say to reassure us about all these attacks on officers?’
Jo walked to the front of the room. ‘I’m not going to insult your intelligence by saying there’s nothing to worry about. We all need to be vigilant …’
‘It’s not just us though, is it? We can look after ourselves most of the time. It’s our families. They didn’t sign up for this, and whilst I love this job, if I have to choose, my husband and my kids come first.’
‘I understand that. I’ve got young children too and I worry about them every second.’ 195
‘Especially with a villain for a husband,’ a mumbled voice uttered.
‘Who said that?’ shouted Claire.
Jo put her hand on her shoulder. ‘It’s OK. Look, the sooner we catch who’s behind this, the safer we’ll all be. We can’t give up and I thank you all for your courage in being here. We will stop this, but only with your efforts.’
The DS spoke up again. ‘You’ve spotted that half of us aren’t here and I’m sure those who say they’re sick really are. All I’m saying is I’ll do what it takes to protect my family.’
‘You need to think very hard before making comments like that. You took an oath to do a job and that’s what you’re expected to do. I’ll not have people picking and choosing.’ As soon as the words had come out of her mouth, Jo regretted every syllable. She’d stood here to reassure, but now she was threatening them. ‘That’ll be all.’
She walked towards the door, nodding an apology to Claire. The last thing she heard before she was in the corridor was the same mumbling voice from before say, ‘Corrupt bitch.’
Once sleep had overcome the boys, Jo began her telephone quest for Darren. Firstly, more in hope than expectation, she tried his mobile. When that went straight to voicemail, she rang around the Metropolitan custody centres. Each answered with the robotic ‘We can neither confirm nor deny that. No one of that name has given us permission to reveal whether or not they are here.’ It was like a bloody script.
Infuriating as these responses were, they were only doing their job if Darren had said he didn’t want her told where he was. But why wouldn’t he though?
Once she’d exhausted everywhere he was likely to be held, she toyed with trying surrounding forces or even going back through her Met list again once there had been a shift change.
She must have dozed off, as when she checked the clock above the fireplace it read 5 a.m. At least two hours before new staff would be on 196duty. She heaved herself off the settee and padded towards the kitchen when suddenly her phone burst into life. She ran back and hit ‘accept’, briefly registering the display. Unknown Caller.
‘Jo Howe.’
‘Mrs Howe, it’s Croydon Custody Centre here,’ came a Birmingham accent she’d heard a few hours ago.
‘Didn’t I speak to you earlier?’
‘I don’t know. I have your husband here. He’d like to speak to you but please be aware we are monitoring the call, so do not discuss the charges or arrange to bring him any illicit items into custody.’
‘Charges? Are you fucking joking?’ she replied. The caller didn’t reply but the next voice was very familiar.
‘Hello, darling.’ Was that a sob?
‘Babe, what’s going on?’
‘I tried to get them to tell you …’
‘Fuckers. Sorry, it’s just I’ve spent all night trying to find out what’s happening.’
‘They’ve charged me with Misbehaviour in a Public Office.’
‘Misconduct. Misconduct in a Public Office and it must be conspiracy as you’re not in a public office.’
‘Yes, whatever. Anyway, I’m going to court this morning.’
‘Court? Not bail?’
‘No. They said I was a flight risk and I might interfere with witnesses or something.’
She heard the same Birmingham voice in the background say, ‘Careful.’
‘Tell him to fuck off,’ said Jo. ‘In fact, don’t. Listen, what did your solicitor say when they charged you? Didn’t he argue to get you bail?’
‘He wasn’t here. I did ask.’
‘Jesus. Give me his name and which court you’re appearing at.’
Darren spelt out the solicitor’s name, then she heard him call out, ‘Which court am I going to?’
She heard the reply yet Darren repeated it. ‘Croydon Magistrates.’ 197
‘Listen, I’ll be there,’ she said before she had a chance to think it through.
‘Are you allowed?’ Darren said. She could hear the hope in his voice.
‘Courts are open to the public. That means me. Look, stay strong and tell your solicitor I want to talk to him before the hearing. OK?’
‘Sure. Jo, is this thing serious?’
Jo hesitated. ‘Don’t worry. Love you.’
‘Love you,’ Darren muttered just before she put the phone down.
What the hell should she do? How could this even have happened? She needed some thinking time, then to speak to the one person she could trust who’d experienced the side of the system Darren was now being plunged into.
Despite her intentions to first talk to Bob, Jo reflected and dialled Gary’s number. No time was too early for her deputy but she gave it until 7 a.m.
She held nothing back and was grateful that he patiently took it all in before offering any suggestions. They’d come a long way since she pipped him for the divisional commander’s job when Phil Cooke was removed. For the first few weeks Gary had been frosty, some might say obstinate. But now they were a formidable partnership, each flexing their different strengths as required so you couldn’t get a slither of baking paper between them.
Once she’d finished, even though she’d already decided, she said, ‘What should I do, Gary?’
He let the question hang, then came up trumps. ‘Well, if it was me, I’d be at court the second it opened, find the solicitor and make sure he makes the mother of all bail applications.’
‘That’s what I hoped you’d say.’
‘Oh and I’d take back-up. What’s Bob up to today?’
‘I’ve already checked. Nothing his chief superintendent can’t cancel.’
‘Jo, why have you even called me? You’ve already planned this haven’t you?’ 198
‘Always worth checking my thinking.’
‘I’ll remember that. Listen, to save you the humiliation in asking, yes of course I’ll take your commitments today and ask Fiona to move those I can’t?’
‘Oh, would you?’
‘And book you a rest day in lieu so there can be no conflicts?’
‘Thanks so much. I owe you big time.’
‘Stick it on my tab.’
Jo surprised herself when a snigger escaped. ‘You’re such a star.’
‘Good luck, Jo, and give him my best. I mean that.’
‘Sure, bye.’ She hung up, choked at his loyalty.