The Detective Jake Tanner Organised Crime Thriller Series Books 1-3 (DC Jake Tanner Crime Thriller Series Boxsets)

by Jack Probyn

  ‘I just hope you’re not lying to him,’ Michael said. ‘Whatever you do. It’ll only make things worse.’

  Danny tutted, sighed and then shifted his attention to the cars pulling in and out of the petrol station. Michael knew his brother better than anyone, and he knew when Danny was hiding something from them. The only problem was working out what it was.

  Out the corner of his eye, he watched Danny rub his forearm and squeeze the skin through his overalls, alleviating an uncomfortable sensation. Danny didn’t even realise he was doing it, but Michael knew what it meant. He’d seen the signs before.

  ‘Oi,’ he said, slapping Danny on the leg with the back of his hand. As Danny’s gaze shot towards him, he pointed at his brother’s arm. ‘You all right?’

  ‘Yeah.’ Danny slid the sleeve further over his hand and placed his hands in his lap.

  ‘Don’t lie to me either, Dan.’

  ‘It’s nothing.’

  ‘Did L—’

  At that moment, the rear passenger door burst open, and Luke fumbled in, a relieved smile beaming across his face.

  CHAPTER 20

  HIJACK

  ‘What took you so long?’ Danny jibed as he entered the car.

  ‘I told you – I really needed that piss.’ And he had. He had stood there for what felt like an eternity, waiting for the tanks in his body to empty. But now that it was out of him, he felt as though he could run a mile.

  ‘Come on. Get your gear back on,’ Danny ordered. ‘This Audi’s been sat here for a while. Ain’t seen anyone coming anywhere near it.’

  Luke slipped back into his overalls, zipped the top up to his neck and pulled the hood over his head.

  ‘Masks?’ Michael asked from the front.

  Luke reached across the seat and grabbed their red devil masks. Despite his misgivings about this life, he couldn’t deny he felt powerful every time he wore one. He could be anyone he wanted beneath it. He could don a new persona, a new way of life, a new outlook on everything. Luke pulled the strap tightly over the back of his head, tucked small tufts of hair in the sides of the mask and grabbed the gym bag next to him.

  ‘Guns?’ Luke asked, turning round to search the boot of the car.

  ‘With me,’ Michael said, before reaching into the footwell and producing Luke’s Mini-Uzi.

  Luke took it from his brother and bounced the weight of the weapon in his hands. It felt as light as a tennis ball, and as he tightened his grip around the handle, adrenaline surged through his body again. All notion of what had taken place in the past two hours flew out of his mind. They were too far gone now. It was time for a blank slate. As a result, his breathing quickened and he clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth together. It made him feel alive.

  ‘Ready?’ Danny asked. ‘Is that everything? Luke – give Micky the bag. You’re gonna need your hands free if you’re gonna break into this car.’

  ‘Does that mean I’m driving?’

  Danny hesitated for a moment. He looked at Michael, back to Luke, then Michael and back to Luke again. He shrugged. ‘So long as you don’t kill us.’

  ‘Are you sure this is a good idea, Dan? It looks too open to me,’ Michael asked, placing a hand on Danny’s back. ‘Freddy always said to never—’

  ‘Shut it. He’s not here. The bigger the risks we take, the bigger the reward, trust me. Now get on with it – somebody’s coming.’

  In the distance, a stocky man wearing a light blue Ralph Lauren jumper, pink shorts and brown boat shoes started towards them. Luke didn’t know him, but he already thought the guy was a flash prick. Audi, Ralph Lauren, boat shoes – he fitted the stereotype well.

  Wasting no time at all, Luke hopped out of the car, hurried to the driver’s-side of the Audi and yanked the handle. Locked. Surprise. He reached inside his overalls and produced a long, thin piece of metal similar in shape and size to a ruler. As he slid the slim jim between the window and the door, Danny and Micky raced towards the Audi’s passenger doors.

  ‘Fuck it!’ Luke grabbed for his gun, gripped it in his hands and smashed the butt against the car window. The glass shattered and scattered inside the car and over Luke’s feet, but he didn’t care. The adrenaline had clouded his mind. He reached for the inside handle and swung the door open. Then he threw himself into the car and kicked open the plastic housing beneath the steering wheel.

  Time was running out, and to make matters worse, the man in the ridiculous outfit started shouting at them. ‘Hey! What the fuck do you think you’re doing?’

  Before Luke was able to react, erupting from behind the back of the car came Danny, approaching the man with his arm raised. At the sight of the weapon, screams and cries erupted from around the forecourt, car doors slammed and tyres squealed as they searched for grip on the tarmac.

  ‘Give us the keys!’ Danny screamed at the man.

  There was no response.

  ‘Give us the keys!’

  Still nothing. The man froze with his arms in the air.

  Realising they couldn’t afford to waste any more time, Luke leapt out of the vehicle and rushed over to the man. As he reached for the car owner’s pockets, something inside the owner changed. Fighting instinct had come to the fore, but Luke was first to react. Determined to prove himself, he wasn’t going to let this guy best him. And he wasn’t about to have his reputation tarnished any more in Danny’s mind than it already was.

  Luke leant into the man, jabbed him in the stomach and unleashed a left hook. With one clean hit, the man fell to the ground. While he rolled on the floor, holding his face, groaning, moaning, begging not to be shot, Luke fumbled for the keys inside his shorts’ pockets. The man made a poor attempt at defending himself, but it was immediately stifled as soon as Luke flexed the Mini-Uzi. As he hurried back to the car, Luke barked at Michael to change the Audi’s number plates.

  Luke dived into the vehicle and threw the keys in the ignition, slamming his foot down on the accelerator as it sprung to life. A few seconds later, Danny leapt in, and then Michael. The plates were changed. They were all together. And they were ready to go.

  Cheers erupted and Luke slammed his hands on the wheel and dashboard as he merged back onto the A3.

  ‘Fucking excellent, Lukey Boy!’ Danny said, slapping him on the back.

  ‘Job well done, son,’ Michael echoed.

  ‘For a moment then, I didn’t think you’d pull it off,’ Danny added. ‘But you did good, kid. You did good.’

  CHAPTER 21

  SEARCH

  A row of elm trees bordered either side of the property and ran down the length of the garden, where they met with another row of cedar trees, interspersed across the grass, giving the other room to breathe and grow. Each tree was unique, vibrant, and full of history. Jake wondered what secrets they held.

  Immediately in front of the house was, as Jake suspected, a rectangular swimming pool, with a diving board attached to one end. To the left of the garden was a small wooden structure, and inside sat two lounge chairs, soaking up the summer sun. Beyond, further down the garden, running down the middle was a small path, constructed of the same stones found on the driveway, dissecting Candice’s attempt at an RHS showstopper. A soup of colours sparkled in the light – purple and white from the beardtongue, furious red from the dahlia, golden yellow from the primrose. Several butterflies and various other insects floated through the air, jumping from plant to plant, unsure what to feast on next. Finally, at the bottom of the garden, far off in the distance, was an enormous summer house that was almost the same size as the mansion. Connected to it at the front was a glass greenhouse. Jake was curious how Candice was able to keep it all in such perfect condition with a full-time job and a business. If the garden was anything to go by, then he knew that as soon as he set foot inside the mansion himself, he was in for a treat.

  ‘That’s it. Right there. Keep your arms high in the air for me, Candice. Don’t move any further.’ Pemberton gave the final command for Candice to come to a sto
p in the space between the pool and the flower arrangement, while Pemberton and the rest of the team stood on the other side of the swimming pool, separated by fifty feet of luxury. ‘My colleague, DC Tanner, is going to see if he can find the key for you. Is there anything you haven’t told us that he might need to know before he goes in?’

  Candice frantically shook her head.

  ‘Jake,’ Pemberton said to him, keeping her voice low, ‘get inside there now. I’ll stay here and send Bridger in when he gets back from whatever he seems to be doing.’

  At that, as if on cue, Bridger returned, breathless and exasperated.

  ‘Sorry, guv,’ he began, his voice raspy. ‘I couldn’t find you.’

  ‘It’s not like we disappeared off to the Isle of fucking Wight, Elliot!’ Pemberton snapped.

  If he was offended or upset by the reaction, he didn’t show it. ‘Forensics are less than five minutes away. EOD ten.’

  ‘You’d both better hurry then. The key won’t find itself.’

  Bridger elected himself to go first and hurried to Pemberton’s car at the end of the driveway. Jake followed. There, he dressed himself in his second full forensic suit of the day. The texture felt soft over his skin, but he knew that in a few minutes his body would be slick with sweat. As he pulled the overshoes over his feet, Bridger held out a set of body cams to him.

  ‘We should wear these as well,’ he said.

  Jake took one from his senior and strapped himself in. Once they were ready, they moved across the gravel carefully, keeping a wide berth from the Transit, and entered through the front door. The splendour of the mansion took Jake by surprise and forced him to stop. He’d never set foot in a house as magnificent as this. The closest he’d come was seeing photos of them online when he and Elizabeth played House Roulette, a fun game they’d created when they were bored one afternoon to see who could find the nicest house on Zoopla or Rightmove in their local area – but there was only so much that online images could convey.

  A glass chandelier dangled from the ceiling only inches from his head. To his left was a door that led into a living room; to his right, the dining room. Ahead lay the kitchen. The marble surface looked like something from a sci-fi film – even with the pile of vomit splashed across it. Great wooden beams ran up the length of the walls, and the staircase to his left spiralled to the first floor.

  Jake snapped himself back to the present. There was no time to stand and admire the property. They had a life to save.

  ‘Come on,’ Bridger called, pointing at the stairs. ‘This way!’

  Bridger leapt up the steps two at a time, rapidly increasing the gap between them. At the top, they entered a vast landing that looked out around the rest of the house. Jake counted seven doors: one behind his right shoulder, three on his right, one to his left, and two more behind his left shoulder. Fortunately, they didn’t have to look too far; the master bedroom was immediately in front of them. Jake followed Bridger inside and stopped as he crossed the threshold. It was a mess; clothes, hangers, shoe boxes filled with old photographs and footwear littered the floor. If they’d had any chance of finding the key quickly, they were now greatly hindered.

  ‘I’ll take the wardrobe, you take the bed,’ Bridger instructed.

  Jake wasted no time in his search. He moved towards the bedside table, knelt beside it, yanked the door open and rummaged inside. There he found a small notebook, a Kindle, a jewellery box containing a watch and a chequebook. Disappointed not to find the key on the first attempt, Jake moved to the drawer beneath. Empty. He then moved to the other side of the bed, running his fingers underneath the mattress and duvet, feeling for anything hard and rigid against his skin. Meanwhile, out the corner of his eye, Jake glimpsed Bridger rummaging through the walk-in wardrobe, flinging the remaining clothes and shoes onto the carpet, demonstrating a surprising lack of care towards protecting forensic evidence.

  Jake reached the other bedside table and sifted through the contents like a fox searching a rubbish bin. It was empty as well. He clenched his fist and scratched his cheek. What if the key wasn’t in the bedroom at all? The note had said where clothes hang to dry after all, and the bedroom didn’t quite fit that description. Then again, what if it was all a ruse? What if they had strapped the collar bomb to her neck knowing that she was doomed to die? What if there was no way they could save her, and they were wasting their time?

  Jake dismissed the thought and occupied his mind with something else: the en suite on his immediate right.

  He wandered through. In front of him was the bathroom sink and above it a mirror. The sight of his reflection caught him by surprise and made him jump. His body turned tense and his muscles tightened. He wasn’t sure whether he let out a little gasp, but if so, he hoped that Bridger had been unable to hear it. The less reason he gave his senior to think he wasn’t up to the task, the better.

  To the right of the sink was the toilet, and beyond that the shower. Everything sparkled and shone in the incandescent light overhead. The bathroom shower was pristine, devoid of any streak marks and limescale residue, as though it hadn’t been used in years, and the toothbrush holder looked almost brand new. There was a small cabinet hanging on the wall beside a towel rack to the left of the sink, and the faint smell of cleaning chemicals lingered in the air. Everything was clean. Too clean. The rest of the bedroom’s cleanliness didn’t match the bathroom’s. There was a disconnect, almost as if The Crimsons – or Candice – had cleaned the bathroom before leaving it.

  Jake approached the cabinet on the wall and held his fingers underneath the handle. His breath steadied, and he inhaled through his nose and out through his mouth.

  In. Out. Preparing himself for what lay behind the door. Like Alice. Except this was no wonderland.

  Jake pulled.

  The cabinet was completely empty, save for two items resting on the middle shelf. A key – the size of his thumb, darkened and rusty. And, lying beneath it, a note.

  Jake felt his entire body relax. He’d found it. And he’d done it without Bridger’s help. Jake grabbed the key, along with the note, and read silently to himself before calling out to Bridger.

  THERE ARE EIGHTEEN HOLES. EACH MORE CHALLENGING THAN THE LAST. ROLL THE DICE AND FIND WHICH ONE, OR THREE, WILL BE THE WINNER.

  Jake read through the note a second time, assimilating the information, then paused, his attention gradually pulling away from the paper. Silence echoed around the house, and through the bathroom window, he heard distant chatter coming from the garden, carried on the breeze. Then he heard softened footsteps approaching him.

  A second later, Bridger appeared at the door. At the sight of the key in Jake’s hand, he stepped into the bathroom and took it from him. ‘You found it. Well done.’ He took the note from Jake and read it.

  ‘Any ideas?’ Jake asked.

  ‘Doesn’t seem too difficult,’ Bridger said, his Adam’s apple convulsing as he swallowed deeply. ‘Can’t imagine these robbers are the brightest bunch.’

  CHAPTER 22

  CONFUSING CONVERSATIONS

  ‘Guv!’ Bridger called, bounding across the garden towards Pemberton. He slowed to a halt by her side and passed her the note.

  ‘Oh my God! You found it!’ Candice interrupted. At the sight of the key in Bridger’s hand, she rushed towards the three of them. Her breathing shook with excitement. ‘You found it. You found it. You found the first key.’

  Pemberton twisted and held her hands in the air, keeping Candice at bay. In the short time that they’d been gone, she’d put her hair in a ponytail, presumably to let the back of her neck breathe. Jake thought it made her look a few years younger.

  ‘Stay back Candice. It’s for your own safety. I don’t want to have to ask you again. We’ll give you this key, but not until the bomb disposal team arrive.’

  ‘No! You have to give it to me now! Please. We need to find the other ones.’ Candice’s voice was hoarse, the effects of screaming and vomiting finally beginning to take
their toll on her.

  ‘And that’s what we’re going to do. You just have to be patient. We’re not going to make any progress if you keep interrupting us every time we try to do something. Understood?’

  Like a chastised dog, Candice retreated a few paces.

  Pemberton swivelled on the spot and faced Bridger. ‘Get some extra uniform down here. We’re going to need all the help we can get. Especially if she gets carried away with herself.’

  ‘Yes, guv.’ Bridger nodded and then left.

  Pemberton returned her focus to Candice. ‘Candice, I promise you, we will get these keys for you. But we don’t know what condition your collar bomb is in. The instructions say it’s trip-wired – for all we know, as soon as we fit the key inside, it may detonate.’

  Candice let out a whimper. It was so visceral and raw it made the hairs on the back of Jake’s neck stand on end as he lingered on the outskirts of the conversation. He hated this. What this woman was going through. The nightmare she was facing. And now that Pemberton had just landed a truth bomb on her, he sensed it wouldn’t be the last. If she survived, the horrors of the day would follow her everywhere she went, lingering, looming, waiting to pounce on her when she least expected it: when she slept, when she was sitting in front of the television, when she was driving towards work or the supermarket. The mind was a puppetmaster with the power to flick a finger and incite chaos. Jake knew all too well about how it needed to be tamed.

  ‘Where are the explosive experts? We’ve been waiting ages!’ As she spoke, tears streamed down her face, and Candice’s poorly administered make-up made her look like a budget version of the Joker. Obviously she hadn’t learnt anything from the make-up artists she’d worked with as an actress, Jake thought.