‘Nobody said being a parent was going to be easy,’ he said. He looked thoughtful when she sat down next to him on the sofa. ‘Penny for them?’ he said cuddling up to her.
She shook her head. ‘I feel like a useless parent.’
‘Look, I’ve had a thought,’ he said. ‘How about we make up a sign for Maisy to look out for? Something that I do for her so that she knows that I’m sending her a smile,’ he said.
‘Like what?’ said Jen, sitting up to look at him.
‘Well, I guess it’s got to be something that I can do that doesn’t look out of the ordinary to anyone else watching. What about if I check the knot on my tie?’ Dylan put his thought into action. ‘Like this.’ He put his hand to his neck and pretended to straight the knot in his tie, and that’s our secret smile.’
‘Do you think you’ll remember to do it? If not, she’s going to be upset. You don’t need any more pressure than you already have when you’re conducting a press conference. It’s hard enough remembering all the facts, especially since you absolutely refuse to use cue cards.’
‘And what sort of an idiot would I look like if I needed a cue card to remember the details of the job I was in charge of?’ Dylan looked perplexed.
‘Well, we can give it a go,’ said Jen. ‘If you’re sure?’
‘I’m sure,’ he said. ‘Anything is worth a try. Now, can we go to bed please and we can explain our plan to Maisy tomorrow.’
***
DI Jack Dylan’s team for operation Artichoke was all but ready to roll. He had hoped that there may have been some intelligence in respect of the mobile phone number on the hire agreement but nothing had been forthcoming.
It was a nervous time for any SIO when observations were in place and even more so when surveillance teams, combined with armed support, were active. A mobile operation such as the one on the Merton Manor enquiry utilised a vast amount of resources.
The Jaguar car, now modified, was back on the forecourt of Redchester Regal Hire Cars awaiting the pick up by the Devlin’s. This expensive operation had no guarantee of being fruitful but it was worth the risk. Nothing had moved, as expected, over the weekend so it was hoped that the Devlin’s would stick to the plan.
On Monday afternoon the target vehicle was still at the garage and Dylan was feeling the pressure. At half past three came the call that the target had moved. The observation team were unable to say which Devlin brother it was that had collected the vehicle, they looked too much alike and the distance that they had to keep between them and the Jaguar, to be sure they were not seen, didn’t assist. However, having pulled out of the garage the other brother was collected a few yards down the road outside the newsagents.
The car travelled in the direction of Yorkshire. As it arrived at the border between Lancashire and West Yorkshire it pulled into the car park of a Hotel called The Quarry Stone.
Surveillance officers pulled into the car park at the rear, and they confirmed over the radio that they had sight of both the back and the front entrance. Dylan watched the clock in his office, his eyes hanging on each movement of the minute hand. Two hours past and the men were still inside. When they left the hotel there was no doubt in Dylan’s mind that they were heading in the direction of Harrowfield. The Surveillance officers confirmed Dylan’s fears and he felt a fire running through his veins.
The officers’ commentary told him that the target had stopped on the main road, a few yards from a large period house that stood in its own grounds. Thornton House was the name in black lettering on the grand brass plaque on the pillars at its entrance.
The team were picking up no conversation between the brothers inside the vehicle, the radio was playing too loud. The car however was not to stay there. Five minutes later the Jaguar set off and travelled a further seven miles, and now they were in the countryside. They parked up next to observe a large country estate Dylan knew as Filby Hall, again they were static. This time for some eight minutes before moving off. Frighteningly, they were heading towards the Sibden Valley, and it became clear that Sibden Hall was their next stop. ‘Where are Jen and Maisy this afternoon?’ said Dylan quietly. His words unheard he picked up the phone to call home but the dialling soon went to voicemail. With a shaking hand he rang Jen’s mobile but again there was no answer. Had they gone to the park as ‘they did most afternoons’? As much as Dylan wanted to jump in his car and ensure they were okay, the job in hand meant he had to stay put, in a warm, windowless room with artificial lighting. He couldn’t leave the command room - as SIO - the man in charge, his job was not done.
The target vehicle came to a halt outside a garden flat, number eleven, The Maltings where both men got out and went inside. Dylan could feel his heart beating in his chest. Thirty minutes he waited to hear that they had emerged and were now carrying a small holdall. There was only one place near that would have the goods that might bring them huge rewards, and that was Sibden Hall, but without any intelligence or being able to hear what Declan and Damien were talking about, the surveillance team was Dylan’s only source of information. The commentary from the surveillance team continued. The Jaguar was on the road Dylan regularly travelled to and from work. His breathing was quick and shallow. Radio reception in the area was notoriously bad and they lost the surveillance team for what seemed to be the longest moments of Dylan’s life as the car pulled into Sibden Hall car park.
The surveillance team plotted up some distance away. There was only one vehicle with eyeball on the target. In the car park the two men had got out, had a look around, taken a toilet break against the walled garden of the fourteenth century house, got back into their vehicle and were out of the car park and on the move again. They were now travelling back in the direction they had come.
Returning to The Quarry Stone Hotel they went inside.
To those observing, it appeared that the two men were bedding down for the night; sitting in the bar Dylan was told, they were enjoying a meal and drinking heavily. ‘How long were they planning to stay at the hotel?’ Dylan wondered. It was Dylan’s call, should he get some covert enquiries done now, or wait until they left the premises? Was it possible while the two were otherwise engaged to take a look in their room?
There were lots of thoughts running around Dylan’s head, while the surveillance team were busy feeding him updates from strategic observation points. None of them had any idea what the holdall contained. The area where the holdall had been picked up Dylan knew well. It had been visited numerous times on the Knapton enquiry when statements had been taken from witnesses in the old peoples’ residences that Knapton had harassed. ‘I need to know who lives in number eleven, and I need to know now!’ Dylan said. Vicky had previously been to the flats at number nine, The Maltings to see an Arthur Carson on the Knapton murder investigation he was informed. ‘That’s right I remember it well, we talked about a staddlestone being in one of the neighbouring gardens to Mr Carson’s home. But, how could that be connected to the fire? Surely not, surely that distinctive staddlestone that she had seen couldn’t possibly have come from Merton Manor?’ Dylan said.
Dylan grabbed his phone. ‘Vicky, where the hell are you?’ he said as the phone went directly to answer phone.
As soon as he put his phone down, it rang. ‘You checking up on us boss,’ Vicky said with a lazy laugh. Dylan could hear Ned in the background.
‘Abort the enquiry you’re dealing with and come see me,’ said Dylan. The line went quiet and he knew she was listening. ‘A location you visited on the Knapton enquiry features in the surveillance for operation Artichoke but we don’t have the necessary intelligence.’
‘On our way boss,’ she said with a matter of urgency in her voice. The phone call was terminated immediately and in Dylan’s mind’s eye he saw her direct Ned instantly back to the station.
‘Before they went to the Maltings to collect whatever is in the holdall have the two eyeballed their next target Jon?’ Questioned Dylan.
‘Damn car radios,’ D
ylan muttered under his breath, hitting the table with a fisted hand, just as Vicky walked in the room. ‘If it wasn’t for the darn music we might have listened in on their plans.’ But without any information to aid them, there were lots of risks to assess for the public’s safety, for the owners of the properties and for the officers. Should Dylan get someone to book into the same Hotel, or should they stay away? ‘I need what intelligence we have on the houses they’ve perused Jon,’ he said. ‘Who are the occupants? Sibden Hall is a Grade 11 listed building; I know it well. It’s situated in a public park and therefore differs from the others as it opens to the public and is only part lived in on an ad-hoc basis by the family who own it. There’s also a lot of in-depth information on the internet about the thirteenth century manor house – I know because I’ve looked at it many times, the property is on our doorstep.’
‘Fucking hell,’ said Vicky. ‘The crime prevention officer - did he visit recently?’
‘I don’t know. I know North Yorkshire haven’t managed to tie him down to interview him yet.’
‘I told you, he’s a gambler. You don’t think he needs money?’
‘We can’t rule anything out, nor assume but it has to be all hands to the pump, I’m going to need you working with us on this. Don’t worry, you won’t be involved when they’re locked up, you’ve more than enough on your plate with the murder file for Knapton but can you do some of the urgent background work?’ requested Dylan.
Vicky raised her eyebrows. ‘I can work my day off?’
Dylan’s head tilted. ‘Go on then,’ he said.
‘Yes!’ she said with a little jig. ‘New handbag here I come!’
‘Do me a favour and see if you can discreetly check Charles’s appointment diary, will you? DI Hawk will be taking over from me for the night cover and I want to bring him up to speed with the developments before I leave for home. I’ll ask him if his team have done the financial background checks on Rupert Charles yet and if not, we’ll get them done immediately.’
Vicky left the office with a spring in her step. ‘Tell Andy I want to see him,’ he shouted after her.
‘For the time being I don't want Rupert Charles wandering in and out of the incident room,’ Dylan advised Andy. ‘Speak to the resident Holmes computer team in confidence so that if he enters, one of them can tackle him as to what he’s doing there and why?’
‘I will sir.’
There was a lot of work to be done. With the threat of weapons in the holdall, at the hotel, Dylan was working against the clock to secure the evidence required to put the two known criminals behind bars for good, without, in the meantime, endangering the public. It was apparent to the detectives that the Devlin brothers were planning their next job, but which one of the houses they had briefly recced was to be their target?
Dylan discussed with his counterpart the positive and negatives of kicking the door in on their hotel room and locking them up. ‘If we’re extremely lucky we might find firearms, and there again we might find nothing, and more than likely end up having to release them and then they’d know we were on their case.’
The majority of the surveillance team were now bedded down for the night, ready to react should a call come in if the targets moved.
‘I’ll speak to the firearms tactical advisor to prepare plans for armed entry to the hotel room, or for the best approach to a vehicle stop if required at any of the recced houses,’ Terry said.
The two Detective Inspectors considered a covert entry to the houses and officers changing places with the occupiers so there was a welcoming committee for the brothers. But the resources that would be required were not possible to sustain, for they had no idea when the Devlin brothers intended to strike, if at all. The detectives plan had to be fluid, which meant that they had to be ready to react to any change, at any time during the operation.
Dylan’s mind was buzzing as he headed for home. His consolation was that he wasn’t doing the night watch and would be able to warn Jen to stay away from Sibden Park. At least he was at home in his own bed, for now. The last thing he wanted to do was to leave Jen alone overnight with the threat of an operation about to take place nearby.
It was a restless night. Dylan couldn’t settle and Maisy dreaming called out for him in the night. However, when he went to comfort her she wanted Jen. ‘It occurred to me today that when a big job breaks she rarely sees you. You leave the house before she’s awake and don’t get home before she’s in bed, fast asleep. She misses you - we both miss you, but at least I’m able to understand why you’re not here,’ said Jen when they were back in bed.
The next morning Dylan was up and ready for whatever the day held for him. He was pleased Jen seemed upbeat which made it easier for him to focus on the job in hand. The last thing he wanted when armed criminals were about, was to make the wrong decision due to his mind not being on the job - once in his career was enough. He knew today when he took over from Terry Hawk that his priority, once again, was to ensure the public and police officers lives were not in danger. He would be acting on information he was hearing, not seeing, from the surveillance team and he wouldn’t hesitate to make decisions instantly as was required of him at his rank.
Maisy was eating her porridge sitting opposite Dylan. When he stood to put on his suit jacket she turned her chin upwards and gave him a toothy smile. ‘Will you be smiling today daddy?’ she asked. Her face was pale her eyes tired.
‘I’m smiling at you because you’re my girl.’ Dylan walked around the table and knelt down beside her. She put her arm around his shoulders. ‘I love you, daddy.’
‘I love you too,’ he said. ‘To the moon and back, remember?’ Dylan had a lump in his throat as he pulled away from her.
‘You should be leaving if you’re going to get to the morning briefing,’ said Jen, one eye on the kitchen clock.
Dylan lifted Maisy from her chair and sat down sitting her on his lap. With an arm around her he put his finger under her chin and she looked up at him. ‘I want to share a little secret with you,’ he said. Jen, who was washing up at the sink stopped and turned to see Maisy put her finger to her lips. ‘Okay,’ she whispered. ‘What is it?’ Her eyes were wide.
‘When you see daddy on television next I will touch my tie like this.’ Dylan put his hand to the knot on his tie and tightened it slightly. He cleared his throat. He was unsmiling. Then he ran his hand down the length of his tie and pulled his jacket together. ‘Now, when you see me do that, you know what I am doing?’
‘No,’ she said with a little giggle.
‘I’m telling you I love you and I’m sending a smile to you but I’m working and I’m not allowed to smile at work, I have to be very serious.’ Dylan deepened his voice. Jen smiled.
Maisy appeared to think about what he said. ‘You mean like when I’m pretending to play doctors and nurses with Jude,’ she said.
‘Yes, just like that.’ Dylan glanced across at Jen who nodded and smiled as she walked towards them.
‘Can we tell mummy our secret,’ she whispered.
He stood with her in his arms. ‘Yes, we have to tell mummy so she doesn’t forget to put the TV on. Look out for me won’t you?’ he said tapping his nose as he handed her over to Jen.
Dylan bent his head to kiss Jen and Maisy.
Maisy lay her head contentedly on Jen’s shoulder. ‘Phew,’ Jen sighed. ‘Fingers crossed. Don’t forget!’ she whispered.
Dylan picked up his briefcase and walked towards the front door, looking backwards and giving Maisy a little wave.
‘So, mummy,’ Maisy said. ‘We have to remember Daddy is only pretending to be a policeman when he’s on television,’ she said seriously. She shook her head in little jerky movements and put her finger to her lips. ‘Shh. Don’t tell anyone,’ she whispered. ‘It’s our secret.’
‘Don’t worry, I won’t,’ Jen said.
Dylan could sense Jen’s amusement. ‘Innocence really was bliss,’ he thought.
At the station
Dylan headed straight for the command room. Terry Hawk’s eyes looked sore from lack of sleep. The command room was very warm, mostly due to the size of it, the close proximity of the people working in it, and all the computers. The entire system was here at their fingertips, the Commanders sat with their small team of staff. It was eight a.m.
‘They haven’t moved,’ Terry said. ‘I’ve had a meeting with the manager away from the hotel. They are booked in for two nights in what he describes as an executive suite. They asked for their best room and they paid upfront with cash. They had their passports which meant there was no concern from the hotel management. It’s a first floor room at the rear which looks out onto the grounds, and is relatively secluded to afford anyone using that particular room privacy. They have opted for no room service, preferring clean towels to be left at the door and requested the local and a national newspaper. I’ve updated the tactical firearms advisor and I’ll leave you to brief the ACC I’ll get my head down for a couple of hours and I’ll be back around lunchtime.’
‘Did you manage to get any sleep?’
‘A couple of hours, it wasn’t too bad.’
Dylan could feel the anticipation of the team who were ready for a strike at any time. Things were bubbling. The intelligence was being gathered on the three houses they had been seen observing yesterday. Dylan liaised with the firearms team to discuss as to where it might be possible and safest to carry out an armed stop or challenge on the vehicle if the opportunity arose. It was about neutralising the threat, the severe threat that the two potentially armed men posed. Together, they looked at the aerial pictures of the three properties that were available to them from the police database. Of the three properties the Devlins had shown an interest in, Dylan, with the firearms tactical advisor discussed the locations. It was decided that Filby Hall was the residence to make an armed challenge to ensure the safety of the public and those involved.
When The Killing Starts: A DI Jack Dylan novel Page 29
