The Price of Failure (20 page)

‘You're conducting a telephonic questionnaire to discover what is the most popular oil used in car engines.'

‘Come on, it's too late in the day for joking.'

‘No joke.'

‘Since when have we carried out market research?'

‘I'll be listening on the second phone to see if I can identify the voice.'

She spoke slowly. ‘Mike, I have a feeling that this is something very big.'

‘Then keep the feeling to yourself.'

‘That makes a difference! Most of you randy bastards want me to hang 'em out in full view.'

She was intelligent, smart, and when not trying to prove herself to be macho, projected a warm personality. Despite the time and the nature of her call, she aroused cooperation rather than resentment. She learned that almost all drivers had no idea what oil was in their cars.

At eight, she said: ‘Mike, it really is time to call a halt. I'm hungry, thirsty, my voice is beginning to croak, and I've learned to hate engine oil.'

‘Keep going a bit longer.'

She studied him. ‘It's that important?'

He nodded.

‘Something to do with the kidnapping?'

‘Nothing.'

‘I reckon you're lying. So I'll keep on until I either lose my voice or faint from hunger.'

She did not have to go to such lengths. At a quarter past eight, the man who answered the call said: ‘Yes?'

‘Mr Trent?'

‘Well?'

‘I'm conducting a survey on the oil you use in your car and I'd be most grateful for your help.'

‘Do you know what the time is?'

Carr, his excitement all the stronger because he had begun to give up hope, recognized the voice.

‘Indeed, and I must apologize for disturbing your evening. But, as you will know, husbands are at work during the day…' The line had gone dead. She replaced the receiver. ‘Sorry about that, Mike.' Then she saw his expression. ‘Jack the lad?'

He nodded.

‘Thank God!'

Three minutes later, he stood in front of the DI's desk. ‘You can tell BT we don't need those numbers after all. We've identified him.'

‘How certain are you?'

‘A hundred and one per cent.'

‘What's the address?'

‘Kingsley House, West Barton.'

Hoskin stood and crossed the room to study the large-scale map of the county which hung on the wall and which in addition to all normal features, showed the divisional boundaries. ‘G division … D'you know the area?'

‘Only very vaguely.'

He returned to the desk, leaned across to pick up the outside phone, dialled. ‘Mrs Jameson, Hoskin speaking. Could I have a word with your husband … Yes, I know, but it is very important.' He put his hand over the mouthpiece. ‘He must think he's the only man who arrives home shagged out.'

It was, Carr knew, a measure of the other's excitement that he had made that comment; normally, he would never have criticized a senior in front of a junior.

After a couple of minutes, Jameson demanded to know what was so important that his evening was interrupted.

‘I think we may have a definite lead in the Lumley case, sir,' Hoskin said.

*   *   *

Jameson was a large man who recently had put on considerable weight. He had a round head, seemingly made rounder by growing baldness, and a heavily featured face which correctly suggested a quick temper.

Dressed in an old sweater and baggy corduroys, sheepskin-lined slippers on his feet, he stood in front of the fireplace in the sitting room of his home in north Rickstone. ‘You should have informed me immediately the DC reported to you,' he said angrily.

‘I thought…'

‘The story headlined, every force in the country on red alert, Buckingham Palace asking to be kept informed, and you decide to play it solo. Bloody hell, your brains must shake around like loose marbles.'

‘I considered the matter very carefully, sir, and came to the conclusion that since the evidence suggested the mob might have a lead through to someone in the force, all information needed to be kept as restricted as possible.'

Jameson's voice rose. ‘And you reckoned I might be the grasser?'

‘Hardly, sir. But by the very nature of your position, and the action you would be bound to be seen to take, a number of people would realize what was up. Having kept dead quiet until now, I can be certain that only DC Carr and I are aware of the facts.'

Jameson took time to consider the position. If the operation ended in failure, Hoskin would have to pay the penalty of his failure to observe the rules; but since it might well end in success, it had to be reasonable to let the problem slide for the moment.

*   *   *

Because of the identity of the victim, general cooperation was assured without any of the usual bureaucratic manoeuvring for position and even in technical breach of certain of the rules governing the surveillance of suspects. The land phone at Kingsley House was tapped and a scanner was set up to intercept any transmission from a mobile phone; experts, capable – with the aid of computer power – of decoding a message sent digitally, were put on stand-by. As soon as possible next morning, detectives visited local shops and pubs and very carefully, very discreetly, learned what they could about the occupants of the house. Because the land was flat and virtually without cover, watchers had to be set too far back to keep close watch on the house, but at least they were able to note all traffic moving, now that lanes were free enough of snow to be passable.

The RAF were called in. They overflew the house in a reconnaissance plane equipped with surveillance cameras, high enough for any uninformed watcher to believe it to be one more civilian airliner, low enough for the photographic resolution to be good. The photographs were developed and examined by expert analysts. In none of them was there anything visible that could confirm or deny that Angelique Lumley was being held in the house.

*   *   *

By dusk on Thursday, the police were in the position of knowing a little more than when they begun, but not nearly as much as they'd hoped. The house had been rented by Trent several months before from the owner who had had to let it following severe losses at Lloyds. He did not mix with the local inhabitants, although those who had briefly met him reported him to be pleasant and friendly. He seldom entertained and it had been noted that when he did, his guests were all male. He employed no indoor staff and only one part-time gardener. The gardener, treated to several drinks, gave it as his opinion that Mr Trent was nice enough, but not quality. And no, he'd not seen any ladies around the place recently – or in the past, for that much, but as far as he was concerned, a man's pleasures were his own business.

During the day, no phone call was either made or received.

It was clear that further action was necessary, yet this could not be so direct as to alert the occupants of the house to the fact that they were under suspicion. It was decided to take advantage of the dark. People often became careless then, believing themselves to be hidden. The Metropolitan police were asked for the loan of their helicopter which had recently been equipped with a Canadian designed and built night-time surveillance system. Two passes over the house were to be made so that all four sides could be viewed from a low angle, as opposed to the very high angle from the plane. If these flights were spaced as far apart in time as possible, it was hoped that the occupants of the house, if they noted them, would fail to find them significant. One was made just after eleven, the other at five in the morning.

At first viewing, the video recordings, seen as if shot through a ghostly green light, seemed to show nothing of any consequence. But on the third viewing, an eagle-eyed woman noticed something. The third and top floor was marked by small dormer windows, set back in the roof, and therefore back from the vertical line of the outside walls, which served the warren of rooms once used by servants. On the south-facing side, the windows were blank, but the fourth one looked as if curtains had been drawn across it. Computer enhancing technique was used to sharpen the images and it became clear that the curtains were in fact a crude form of boarding.

*   *   *

The ACC (Crime), chairman of the small committee, said: ‘It could, of course, merely be a temporary repair and not there to blank out the window so that the person inside can't see out. Against that possibility, the boarding is on the inside, the experts are convinced the glazing is intact, and there are no signs of any damage which might call for temporary repairs. So now we have to decide on the answers to certain questions. Do we accept that the dormer window is boarded up because Miss Lumley is held captive in the room? If we can't be certain, do we take the risk of assuming that that is so? Do we then make a rescue attempt right away, or do we play it cautiously and try to gain more information, one way or another, remembering that it is virtually certain that the moment a ransom demand is made, events will move very, very quickly, perhaps too quickly for us to be able to respond with precision?'

They were silent; some sat still, some fidgeted. They had to make the decision, yet knew that if they got it wrong it would haunt them for a long time if she were not there, but was being held somewhere else … There was not at the moment the incriminating evidence necessary to warrant the arrest of Trent or, for that much, any of the others. So unless this could be found in the house – and if she were not being held captive there, and never had been, what was the likelihood of that? – they must remain free. In which case, Angelique would almost certainly be murdered in order to make certain that she could never incriminate them (however carefully her captors had concealed their identities from her, there had to be the possibility that while what she had learned could never imperil them when the police had no knowledge of who they were, it most certainly could once they were singled out).

‘I think we have to go in as soon as possible,' the ACC finally said.

One by one, they agreed.

28

Wyatt walked into Hoskin's room at eight-fifteen. ‘They say the girl's been found?'

‘We hope so, but can't be certain until the house has been searched.'

‘And you provided the vital information?'

‘Mike turned it up, I passed it on.'

‘So I was right – he was working with them?'

‘Yes.'

‘Until I became suspicious, I'd have bet my life that whatever the pressures, he'd never have gone bent. I know things were tough, but, Christ, after Victoria Arkwright … What happens now?'

‘There's a suggestion that an SAS team is being called in.'

‘That's not what I meant. Has Mike been arrested?'

‘No.'

‘But … Surely you've already told the DCS?'

‘Of course.'

‘Then … What did he say?'

‘He was annoyed because according to him I'd sidestepped God knows how many rules and regulations, but since things have worked out, he couldn't get too hot under the collar. It wasn't all that difficult to cool him down.'

‘You're saying he knows Mike was working for the bastards, but hasn't slapped the cuffs on him?'

Hoskin sat back in his chair. ‘Why should he do that?'

‘For God's sake, Guv, who's gone round the twist, you or me?'

‘I can only speak for myself … I explained how things have been. That Mike reported to me the moment they tried to put the black on him and I decided it would be worth making it seem he'd given in to them in the hopes that he'd learn something that would finger them.'

‘But … but that's wrong. Until I told you, you'd no idea Mike had turned crook.'

‘I knew when you spoke that he hadn't turned crook. But I had to conceal that fact because it was vital that only he and I knew what was going on. Now that things are out in the open, though, I can say that the fact I didn't take you into my confidence doesn't mean I didn't and don't have the fullest faith in you.'

Wyatt respected rank to a far greater degree than most and so normally accepted what his seniors said or did simply because they were his seniors. But there was a stubborn, puritanical streak in him that occasionally surfaced. ‘I'm not a fool.'

‘You would not be my sergeant if you were.'

‘When I told you I suspected Mike was working with the kidnapping mob, you wouldn't accept the possibility to begin with. So what's happened? Has Mike admitted everything on condition that you help him and you've agreed to that because the news of a copper in E division who's so bent he's worked with the kidnapping bastards would mean the end of any chance of promotion for you?'

‘Are you calling me a liar?'

‘I'm saying…' He became silent.

‘You're accusing me of being so intent on promotion that in pursuit of it I'm willing to pervert the course of justice.' He paused, then said: ‘Years ago, I knew a PC who accused his inspector of taking small bribes. When he failed to prove his allegation, he was dismissed from the force. It is obviously my duty to report to Detective Chief Superintendent Jameson the allegation you have just made. It is, of course, a far more serious allegation than that of taking small bribes and if you cannot provide the proof to sustain it, you'll obviously find yourself in very serious trouble … I like to think that I judge every man in the round, not the part. Therefore, provided I hear no more about it, I am willing to remember the quality of your past work and to put this ridiculous allegation down to the stress under which we've all been working.'

After a while, Wyatt left.

*   *   *

The assistant chief constable was officially in charge of operations, but everyone knew that it was the SAS lieutenant, an expert in hostage situations, who was responsible for planning. H-hour was to be dawn when the rescuers could see what they were doing and the men in the house would probably still be either asleep or in a state of drowsiness. The police, in six cars, would approach from two directions; those coming in from the south would have to cross a ten-acre field and then the garden, those from the north could drive up to the front door, so they would be synchronizing their movements to make certain they arrived at the house at exactly the same moment. The SAS team would be dropping in.