Bex Wynter Box Set 2

by Elleby Harper

  * * *

  Through the glass walls that enclosed her, Bex could see the slow drip of people passing as they left the New Scotland Yard offices. The direction her desk faced meant she couldn’t see the outside windows, but she knew if she could the sky would already be darkening. She contemplated her hands, resting flat on the desk in front of her and knew they were tied. Her team could work on this case but her role as superintendent removed her from the nuts and bolts of the investigation.

  On top of that, her stomach felt cramped and her insides hollowed out by Griffin’s disappearance. It had been hard to maintain her calm in the face of Cole’s reaction to the news. No explicit blame had been expressed, but she had felt it all the same. Cole’s case had fragmented because of her decision to move Griffin from Coldmarsh to witness protection. It was her fault that Griffin was missing, either in his family’s clutches or a fugitive on the run.

  Her thoughts revisited Griffin’s prison cell. She remembered the absolute desperation in the young man’s face. Had she let emotion drive her judgment rather than logic? If she had left Griffin in Coldmarsh, would he still be safe?

  She couldn’t deny it had been the flat out hopelessness he displayed that had prompted her to do what he asked. But she hadn’t been able to control the media and that variable had thrown a curve ball into the equation. Either seeing those news reports had spooked Griffin into taking the extreme step of fleeing their protection, or the reports had informed his pursuers that the job hadn’t been completed and they had set out to finish him off.

  Releasing a pent up sigh, she knew that berating herself would not solve the problem, nor was there anything she could do until her team turned up some hard evidence.

  Her email pinged. It was an email from Cole with the link to electronic files of background details on the Loughborough associates. She pecked at the keyboard to open the files, relieved to take some action. She scanned through pages, searching for Hudson’s name, until she stumbled over a brief summary that encapsulated the information Cole had mentioned.

  Jerimiah John Hudson, still officially married to Annette, one female child, Devyn. Wife and daughter no longer living with him. No known whereabouts for Annette and Devyn Hudson. Hudson says he has not had contact with his wife and daughter since 2010.

  Bex typed Annette’s and Devyn’s details into the national database, where they were listed as missing. Annette Jane Hudson had not renewed her driver’s license or touched her bank accounts, there was no record of her passport being used to leave the country. She was a blank page.

  Next Bex checked the daughter. Devyn Remy Hudson had vanished from the official records at the same time. Her school had contacted Jerimiah and been told by Jerimiah that she had left with her mother.

  Bex felt like the breath had been ripped out of her lungs. The similarity in the names was too close to be coincidental. Remy Knight. Devyn Remy Hudson. Were they one and the same person? And if so, did that mean Remy had roots in the Loughborough criminal empire? Where did her allegiance lie, with the Loughboroughs or with the police?

  Worried by her suspicions, Bex pulled the young sergeant’s personnel records up on her computer and skimmed through the pertinent information, but nothing had changed since her interview with Remy two days ago.

  Remy had joined the police service three years ago as a direct entry detective and had served at Barking and Hounslow. She had sat her sergeant’s test last year. No other jobs were listed. She had filled her time in between high school and joining the service with philosophical studies at the University of London.

  Although Remy’s application form and interview process seemed in order, it wasn’t what Bex would consider a typical profile for a police officer. Bex’s instincts screamed that something was amiss and she made a note to contact the university to check Remy’s enrolment and study details.

  Her brooding was interrupted by a call from Roscoe Sedden, the Undercover Covert Operations Manager handling the covert taping through Jerimiah Hudson’s phone.

  “I’m just confirming that the equipment is working and we’re already recording the first conversations. I can’t spare the manpower at the moment to go through the recordings until next week at the earliest, but if you want to send someone over I can drip feed these through to you immediately.”

  “I’m free now, so consider me there!”

  Chapter 34

  Covert Operations Office, Friday, April 6

  After nearly two hours of wading through words, Bex took a break. There were some interesting snippets of intelligence in the Loughborough recording that Roscoe had provided that hinted at another drug delivery. Three voices were recorded: Jack’s, Mortimer’s and Jerimiah’s. Even when they thought themselves in private, the three men had been cagey about their words, using some sort of coded shorthand that meant the information hadn’t delivered the gold nuggets of evidence that Cole could use in his case against Jack.

  Tucked into the listening booth at Covert Operations, Bex’s long legs felt cramped, the small of her back ached from hunching over the desk and her ears hurt from where the headphones clamped tightly across her head. She stood and stretched out some of the worst of the kinks before walking down the corridor to where she had noticed a vending machine.

  When she had arrived Roscoe had provided her with a cup of instant coffee that was so awful she couldn’t bear a second one. Instead she purchased a can of cola and a ham and cheese sandwich and took her meal and drink back to the desk.

  With the headphones back in place, she wolfed down the food as she continued to listen to conversations almost in real time as Roscoe fed the recordings through.

  Bex dropped the plastic sandwich container into the trash, her attention zeroing in on a conversation that veered away from “business” to more personal topics as they finally discussed Griffin.

  JACK: Drake’s pushing to go on the next job. Says he’s more than capable of taking over from Griffin.

  JERIMIAH: You’ve got to hand it to him, he’s eager and ambitious.

  JACK: Which is more than I could ever say for Griffin. I hate to admit this about my own flesh and blood, but that boy was as big a disappointment to me as it was possible to be. Ratting us out to the scum, like that! If he’s really dead I can give Drake his chance with a clear conscience.

  MORTIMER: There you go, Jack, jumping to conclusions! There’s no confirmation the boy’s dead. Trending News reports the contrary. The bloody filth are diving and ducking like flies to avoid confirming what’s happened. As for that jackass Pomphrey, he’s not worth the freaking retainer we’re paying his stuck up company to put pressure on the scum! He said if you went on the bleeding telly the filth would fold. Like hell they did! All it’s done is bring out the freak shows like Trending News.

  JERIMIAH: The bastards hope that by keeping us in the dark they’ll break us before next week’s trial. But do you think one of the cops has leaked to Trending News?

  There were sounds of heavy footsteps as though someone was pacing the floor.

  JACK: I just want to know if Griffin’s been shot or not! The only thing we know for sure is that there was a shooting at Coldmarsh and some bloody screw’s snuffed it, but I bloody well want to know who’s behind it! Is there some rival gang poking their nose into Loughborough business?! Who has the balls to shoot at a Loughborough?!

  JERIMIAH: Take it easy, Jack. We can’t afford for you to have a heart attack now.

  JACK: Get your hands off me, Jerry! I’ll take it easy when I’m good and ready. Kaufman’s still being held in isolation, so who else have we got inside Coldmarsh who can tell us what’s happening?

  JERIMIAH: You’re working yourself up for nothing. My money’s on that other son of yours.

  JACK: You think Drake arranged the hit? Drake doesn’t have the brains to organize the closing of an umbrella! If only I could have had one decent son with Griffin’s brains and Drake’s ambition.

  MORTIMER: You should have brought them up to wor
k together. They would’ve made a good unit. Together they could have ruled this business.

  JACK: Don’t lecture me you bloody old fool! Neither of them have ever been able to stand each other! Anyway, it’s all water under the bridge now; Griffin’s never coming back into the family. But I still want to bloody know who tried to take him out. I’m going to hang them by the balls and strip the skin off their back when I find out. So look into it, Jerry. Find out who we’ve got on the inside to help, then report back to me.

  Bex listened for a few more minutes, but the conversation petered out with Jerimiah leaving to get on with other tasks.

  She eased off the headphones, rubbing at her temples as she replayed the gist of the conversation in her head. The perplexing part was that the police’s prime suspects sounded genuinely in the dark about who had organized Griffin’s shooting.

  Thoughtfully, she drummed her fingers on the desk and wondered if the conversation sounded almost too innocent. Could they have known they were being bugged? Was it possible Hudson had discovered the spyware on his phone?

  She massaged her temples, her head hurting with the effort to figure out if the recordings were genuine. Her thoughts drifted to Remy and the secrets she might be hiding. Remy was the one who had proposed bugging the Loughboroughs, claiming to want to help Griffin. But if she was really Hudson’s daughter, where did her loyalties lie? Could she have done it in order to provide the Loughboroughs with an avenue to prove their innocence? With all the evidence mounting against Drake, perhaps Jack’s comments on his son’s lack of brains was to throw them off the scent?

  The only thing Bex had no doubt about was that Remy was hiding secrets.

  Chapter 35

  Bridesmead, Saturday, April 7

  The Youth Crimes Team officers plus Cole and Bex were arranged loosely around the investigation room in various states of alertness. Remy sipped at a caffeine-boosted soda while Eli slurped from his mug. Idris’s fingers twitched repetitively with a ballpoint pen. Cole leaned his large frame against the wall, arms crossed, his lop-sided grin missing.

  A huge screen behind Quinn projected Griffin’s unsmiling custody photo. With his clear complexion and tidy hair, he looked like a model student, the exact opposite of his brother.

  “Using the combination of names given to us yesterday, we’ve narrowed the possibilities to two flights out of London. Today an Air Canada flight leaves from Heathrow to Ottawa at noon with a ticket booked in the name Hank Matteice and West Jet flies from Gatwick to Toronto at 11:50 hours with a ticket booked in the name of Griffin Benoit,” Quinn said.

  When Quinn had alerted Bex late last night about the break through, Bex had invited Cole to attend the morning’s briefing. She felt she owed it to him to keep him abreast of the search for Griffin.

  After a few seconds, Quinn continued.

  “So, our thinking is that Griffin may have booked two tickets to confuse us in case we figured out his alias. Unfortunately we haven’t tracked any bank accounts in either name. We’re looking into the possibility that any money he has may be stored in a Bitcoin wallet. The ticket transactions were purchased using privacy coins employing stealth addresses that obscure the identity of the purchaser. The fact that both tickets were purchased in the same manner is an indication they were purchased by one person. That person, we are assuming, is Griffin Loughborough.”

  “What you’re saying is this information confirms that Griffin hasn’t been kidnapped at all. That he’s actually on the run from the authorities?” Cole demanded.

  Bex fielded his angry look. She knew what he was thinking: If she had kept him in Coldmarsh, Griffin couldn’t have escaped.

  “That’s our best guess.” She kept her voice steady, devoid of the anxiety gnawing a hole in her stomach lining. “I’m in receipt of intel that confirms the theory that the Loughboroughs don’t actually know Griffin has escaped their clutches.”

  She didn’t want to say too much in front of Remy in case she gave away her doubts about the legitimacy of the taped conversations. If Remy was working covertly for the Loughboroughs it was possible she was also the source of the leak to the press. At this point Bex found she was distrusting even her own instincts.

  “Have you put an alert out to the airlines? Griffin could be checking in any time from now on. That way we’ll know which ticket he really intends to use,” Cole said.

  “Of course we’ve alerted the airlines!” Quinn barked, snapping a derogatory look at Cole. “Hank Matteice and Griffin Benoit checked in online twenty-four hours before the flight and printed off boarding passes. I’ve asked the airlines to send through passport ID when he turns up to help us verify his identity. For good measure, we also provided the airlines with Griffin’s photo to circulate to check in and security staff. But if Griffin’s hoping to confuse police, it’s unlikely he’ll show up until the last minute. We can’t count on having sufficient time to mobilize once he’s at the airport.”

  “We need to get Trojan on the job,” Eli said. “They need to send in two teams to both airports to cover all the bases.”

  “Agreed,” Bex said.

  Trojan was the proactive section of the armed response unit, responsible for securing high-risk areas and offenders. Although Bex was sure Griffin wasn’t armed or dangerous, it was possible the Loughboroughs could have tracked him down and they would definitely be armed and dangerous.

  “I know this is our priority right now, but can I just report that the times and duration of the calls recorded on both Kaufman’s and Drake’s phone lines match exactly for both dates,” Eli said. “I’ve put in a request to IT to crack the redirection so we can hopefully match the connecting phone numbers.

  “The circumstantial evidence against Drake is strong enough to bring him in for further questioning about Griffin’s shooting,” Bex said. “I want you to get straight onto that, Quinn.”

  Quinn shot her a dirty look that told her she was treading on his toes. She bit her lip to stop more orders piling out, simply because she was too used to being in charge of the team. The only way to stop herself was to leave the investigation room. A heavy step behind her alerted her to Cole’s presence.

  “You’re heading for the lifts. Are you going back to New Scotland Yard?”

  His voice stopped her. She sawed down on her lip again, knowing she couldn’t leave this investigation to run its course without her involvement.

  “You do realize that tending the office is the appropriate action for a superintendent to take, don’t you?” His voice was mocking now, and finally his crooked smile appeared. “But I can see by your face, you’re not going to sit still to await today’s outcome! If you intend to follow up at the airport then I’m coming with you!”

  “It’s not your case, Cole. I only brought you into the briefing as a courtesy.”

  “Damned if it’s not my case! If Griffin Loughborough doesn’t turn up in court on Monday my case is out on its arse and the Loughborough family will walk away from its crimes yet again. I have as much at stake in recapturing Griffin as you do. Besides, you’ll probably get lost on your way to Heathrow. You still need a guide to navigate your way around London.”

  “Who said I was going to Heathrow?”

  “It’s either Heathrow or Gatwick. Do you want to toss for the decision?”

  The door to the investigation room opened and Remy appeared, stopping short at the sight of them.

  “Has Quinn finished the briefing?” Bex asked.

  “Yes,” Remy said, still hesitating.

  “I take it the others have gone back to the office to follow up on orders?” The investigation room could be entered from the outside corridor but it also connected to the main office. No one else followed Remy outside. “What are you intending to do, DS Knight?” Bex couldn’t hide the edge of suspicion rasping through her words.

  “I’m just concerned about Griffin.”

  “You’re planning to head out to the airport, aren’t you?” Bex guessed. “So where is he
heading, Ottawa or Toronto?”

  Something rippled in the depths of those bluish-green eyes. Would the next words out of her mouth be the truth or a lie? Bex wondered.

  “Toronto’s bigger, easier to get lost in,” Remy said.

  “That’s not what I asked you. Which one will Griffin choose based on what you know?”

  She stared at Remy, still mistrustful, but searching for answers from eyes as guarded as Coldmarsh Prison.

  “Do you want to save Griffin or not?” Bex pressed.

  “I do,” Remy said. Doubt invaded her eyes. “I don’t know which one. Penny was planning on going to Calgary. She seemed to think it was full of cowboys because of the stampede and that appealed to her, I guess because it sounds a million miles away from London. So maybe whichever flight connects to Calgary?”

  Chapter 36

  Heathrow Airport, Saturday, April 7

  Like most major airports, Heathrow was humming with hordes pouring through the concourses like a river streaming into various queues. Security guards were dotted at strategic points. Bex, Cole and Remy hovered near the entrance of Terminal 4, scouring their surroundings. Bex had insisted on Remy coming with them, believing it would be a strategic advantage provided Remy genuinely wanted to help bring Griffin in. If Griffin recognized his old babysitter, he might be more amenable to giving himself up.

  “There are too many people. We’re never going to be able to find one person in these crowds,” Remy said. “And I don’t see any armed police. Where are they?”

  “Quinn texted me to say they were only able to mobilize one Trojan crew and since we were headed to Heathrow, the others have gone to Gatwick.”