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

by Jack Probyn

  ‘That’s the one. And lots of milk.’ Liam leant back into the chair and placed his ankle on his knee.

  Jake opened his mouth, but the words were stolen from him. He looked at Tristan as if to say, ‘I’m sorry for my colleague’s behaviour’, and then he cleared his throat. ‘As I was saying…’ He hesitated, losing his train of thought. ‘I… I have to ask you this because it’s pertinent to the circumstances surrounding his death… but did Steven – or Jessica – ever mention any particular interests they had?’

  ‘What?

  ‘Did they… ever declare any sexual fantasies they had? Did they ever open up to you about that sort of stuff?’

  Jake sucked in his breath as the shock registered on Tristan’s face and, out of awkwardness, he pressed at his phone’s home button, just to check it again. Still nothing.

  ‘Do you have children, Officer?’ Tristan asked.

  ‘Yeah,’ Jake said. ‘One.’

  ‘How old?’

  ‘Two.’

  ‘So you’ve not had to deal with them growing up yet?’

  Jake shook his head and scratched the small scar on the side of his face – the one that stopped any hair from growing around it.

  ‘Well, let me tell you something then,’ Tristan began. ‘Perhaps as a word of advice. As a parent, I cannot think of any conceivable situation where you might ask your child what they like to do in the bedroom – where they like to do it and how they like to do it. That’s between a man and his wife, and it should stay that way. No! Of course they didn’t tell us anything like that, because that’s a deeply personal thing. If you force your children to share those sorts of details with you, I don’t think you should be a father.’

  Julie returned with another mug of coffee and Jake watched her place it down on the table. He squirmed as he repeated in his head the question he’d just asked.

  ‘I… I’m sorry.’ Jake pulled his phone out again, hoping, praying that there was a notification that would pull him out of this awkwardness. But there was still nothing. ‘I think we’ve got everything we need—’

  ‘Yeah. I agree. It’s time for you to leave,’ Tristan said, almost animated, his arms communicating as loudly as his voice.

  Jake lifted himself off the sofa and pocketed his possessions. Liam downed what he could of the coffee before rising to his feet. Then he brushed himself down and led the way out. Jake apologised to both Julie and Tristan again, gave them his condolences and then left their house.

  As Liam and Jake returned to the car, Jake couldn’t help feeling terrible. And angry. Not at Julian and Tristan – no, their behaviour was completely warranted – but at Liam. He was acting almost childish, insolent.

  ‘Seriously, guv?’ Jake said, closing the door behind him.

  ‘What?’

  ‘The coffee. Really? Two cups.’

  Liam slipped the keys into the ignition and started the car up. ‘You see, Jake, there are a few things you still need to learn. The most important being that people will take you, as a police officer, for granted, so you have to take a few of their things for granted also. Case in point: people abhor us when the media or social media says we’re doing something bad, or that we’ve not been performing up to their exceptionally high expectations of us. But people will crave us and love us when they need us. When their house gets burgled. When they need us to find their missing child. Nobody thinks they’ll ever need our help – Christ, nobody purposely wants it – but they only appreciate us when they pick up that phone, dial 999 and we come running to help them. So, now and then, you have to take back what you can – you have to make the most of those few opportunities.’

  ‘Like drinking all their coffee?’

  ‘Precisely.’ Liam slipped the car into first gear. ‘I’d have taken a couple of snacks if she’d offered them to us. But you’ve got to start small, and then work your way up.’

  Jake scoffed. He’d never heard of such blatant disregard for the Code of Ethics that they, as police officers, were supposed to live by. It was unfathomable.

  ‘I… I don’t know what to say. How can you… What about the Codes?’ He paused a beat. ‘How long have you been an officer?’

  ‘Ever since you were a little boy, son.’ Something changed in Liam’s expression: his face straightened and he pointed a finger at Jake. ‘You don’t need to lecture me on the Code of Ethics. I’ve seen them and studied them for long enough to know what they are. Besides, you weren’t exactly as holy as can be either.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Jake asked, pulling out his phone to check it again.

  ‘That,’ Liam said, pointing at Jake’s mobile. ‘You were on it non-stop. Checking it every few seconds. Hardly makes the public feel confident in us, does it, if you aren’t even listening?’

  Jake looked down at the phone in his hands. The screen illuminated again, but it was just a Twitter notification.

  ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘It’s just that Elizabeth, my wife… She’s pregnant. We’re due in the next couple of weeks, and I’ve been keeping an eye on my messages in case she goes into labour and I need to be with her.’

  Liam’s face lit up and he shook Jake’s hand.

  ‘Pregnant? That’s excellent, mate. Congratulations. Well done. Good to see the old swimmers are working all right – or, in your case, young swimmers. I’m really pleased for you. Why didn’t you say anything earlier?’

  ‘I… I… There was an email about it the other month…’

  ‘Mustn’t have got it. Must have slipped through the net. Never mind. Right, well, I know where we’re headed next,’ Liam said, pulling away from the kerb.

  ‘Where?’

  ‘Pub with the boys. We’ll round them up on the way. We’ll go to one of my favourite locals. To celebrate.’

  Jake’s mouth fell open. ‘But what about Steven and Jessica Arnholt? There’s still a mountain of work to do.’

  Liam dismissed him with a wave of the hand. ‘It’ll be all right. I’m the SIO, MLO, FLO and EO, so I make the decisions, and whatever I say goes. If anything goes tits up, it’s on me. And there’s nothing we can do about it now anyway. Forensics will take a while to come in, and when they do, that’s when we’ll kick ourselves into action.’

  ‘But what about the golden—?’

  Liam moved his hand closer to Jake’s face, cutting him off. ‘Golden shmolden. You don’t need to worry about that right now. I can tell you’re a little tensed up and in need of a heavy drink. Correct me if I’m wrong?’

  Jake remained silent, more out of disbelief than choosing to answer Liam’s question.

  ‘Then it’s sorted,’ Liam continued. ‘We’ll find the killer. All in good time.’

  He stopped at a set of traffic lights. ‘You’re a good egg, Jake. We like good eggs in MIT. Not bad eggs. We don’t have any time for bad eggs. If you want to become part of the team – properly – then we need you to be a good egg. Understood?’

  Jake hesitated for a moment. This was what he’d been waiting for – a chance to feel like part of the team – and Liam was handing it to him on a plate.

  Jake nodded before he reached out and grabbed it.

  CHAPTER 8

  ROVER

  The pub was called The Head of the House. Jake had been there once before, when he was a testosterone-fuelled eighteen-year-old on a pub crawl with the rest of his university friends from the Ski and Snow social club. It had been the final stage of a journey that had seen them crawl the length of London from west to east – which had then left them all with the burden of trying to get home to the UCL campus in central London. But for Jake, the night was a blur. He had drunk far too much in a short space of time and had forced the group to cut their night short. All he could remember was that the drinks here were cheaper than anywhere else and they tasted ten times stronger. And he would always remember that morning after where he’d nursed the worst hangover of his adult life.

  Liam and Jake were waiting at the bar. Jake rested his arms on the coun
ter and then instantly lifted them off. It was sticky and damp, rings of beer and alcohol mixer soiling the surface.

  ‘What you having?’ Liam asked him as he flagged down the bartender.

  ‘No, no. It’s fine, guv. I can’t drink.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘I’m driving—’

  ‘Bullshit!’

  ‘And I’ve got Elizabeth—’

  ‘You can treat yourself to one, at least. Come on, Jake. You’ve earned it. I respect people who put themselves forward like you did today. Too many people expect things to come to them, but you went out and grabbed it. Consider this a part of the initiation on your first outing with the lads.’

  Jake hesitated for a moment. A part of him – a big part – wanted to have a drink. He was thirsty, he hadn’t had one in a while and he wanted to take the edge off a little bit. It had been a disturbing and stressful day. But he knew the dangers of drinking on the job. At first, it was just the one. Then, as the workload and stresses began to mount, one bottle was close on the heels of another. Followed by another. And another. He didn’t want that to happen; he had a family and a loving wife to care for. Not only that, but he knew Elizabeth would berate him for spending money they didn’t have fuelling an unhealthy and debilitating addiction.

  The bartender arrived in front of him and Jake snapped himself to attention.

  ‘Afternoon, Maggie,’ Liam said.

  ‘All right, Liam. Who’s this then?’

  ‘Jake. Some fresh meat for you.’

  Maggie smirked, flashing a set of brown bottom teeth. ‘I like ’em fresh. At least his face will make a welcome change to Drew and Pete’s ugly mugs.’

  Liam and Maggie chuckled to one another, but after a few seconds, the laughter died down and she focused her attention on Jake again. ‘What you having then, newbie?’

  ‘Foster’s please,’ he said, swallowing.

  ‘Two pints of piss for the fresh meat and a Guinness for the old meat, coming up.’

  ‘Two?’ Jake asked, looking at his manager, his brow creased.

  ‘Tradition. The first round is always double when it’s your first outing with us,’ Liam said, tilting his head at the freshly poured pint of Foster’s Maggie had placed in front of them.

  The liquid fizzed and small bubbles spat out at the top. Maggie placed another glass beside the first. Liam paid and then they headed to the nearest table.

  ‘When is everyone else coming?’ Jake asked.

  As they rounded the side of the bar, he got his answer.

  ‘Guv!’ somebody shouted from behind them.

  It was Drew, seated with some of the Major Investigation Team and a couple of the guys from Missing Persons. They each had a beer in their hand and, after Jake made a quick count at the empty glasses on the table, he realised they were already one drink down.

  Jake and Liam wandered to the table and sat next to one another. Beside Jake was DS Richard Clifton, a bald man – out of choice rather than anything hereditary – with a bottom lip that stuck out further than his top. He was a member of the Missing Person Team, and from what Jake had experienced of him around the building, he was a calm and respectable human being. For a start, he was the only one who seemed to make a conscious effort to talk to him in the lift or sometimes in the canteen, or – and Jake thought it odd every time he remembered this – in the bathroom.

  ‘Congratulations, fella!’ Clifton said, shaking Jake’s hand. His breath was dampened with the smell of alcohol.

  Everyone else around the table congratulated him, raising their glasses in the air.

  Drew, seated opposite, leant into the middle of the table and grabbed a full glass of stout. ‘Sorry, Liam. We didn’t realise you’d already ordered, so we got you your usual.’ He placed the glass in front of Liam, spilling some of the contents over the side, then looked to Jake and said, ‘We didn’t know what you’d like, so we got you a Stella.’

  ‘You’re going home to your wife after this, right?’ Garrison asked, holding a glass a few centimetres under his lips.

  The table erupted with laughter and Jake found himself chuckling too. It wasn’t his usual banter, but if he was going to fit in, he was aware he’d have to make a sacrifice or two. Jake took a sip of the drink, avoiding any opportunity to answer the rhetorical question. Fortunately for him, someone else responded.

  ‘You can tell McVitie’s on the drink again,’ Drew said.

  They called him Pete ‘McVitie’s’ Garrison because his favourite brand of biscuits was McVitie’s. At every opportunity, he would have a packet of digestives or hobnobs either on his desk or in his hands. From Jake’s observation, it was the only nickname any of them had for one another.

  ‘It’s easy for him to talk about wife beaters when he’s the one who’s going to die alone,’ Clifton said.

  Garrison shot Clifton the finger.

  ‘I’ll be retiring before you’ve even got your dick wet again, son,’ Garrison said.

  The group erupted.

  ‘Here we go,’ Drew said, rolling his eyes. ‘Retiring. Retiring. Retiring. You don’t fucking shut up about it. It’s re-tiring for the rest of us.’

  Garrison ignored the jibe and turned his attention to Jake.

  ‘Come on, mate,’ he said. ‘You’ve got three to finish now. You’re not leaving until you’ve downed them all.’

  ‘I’ll be here all night,’ Jake said, before taking a long swig of his first. By the time he put it back on the table, less than half the glass remained. The sudden intake of alcohol sent his head spinning.

  ‘So,’ Liam began, touching him on the back. ‘When’s the due date?’

  ‘Twenty-eighth, sir.’

  ‘Got a name?’

  Jake shook his head.

  ‘My mum was called Ellie,’ Liam began. ‘Delightful woman. Best you’ve ever met. And I mean that. Absolute trooper. She wouldn’t take anything from anyone. She had a fire inside her, but she had a soft side to her as well. Something to think about.’

  ‘I’ll think about it, guv,’ Jake said, taking another swig.

  ‘Come on, Jake. We’re off duty now. There’s no need for that sir and guv bullshit. If I like you enough, I might let you drop it completely. Perhaps I’ll even let you call me by my nickname.’

  ‘Nickname? I didn’t know you had one,’ Jake responded.

  ‘Rover,’ Drew added, taking another sip. ‘Lunar rover. Mars rover. He’s into space and all that. Aliens. Star Trek. Star Wars. Oh, and he always dreams about owning a Range.’

  ‘Thanks for that, Drew,’ Liam said, scowling at him for the outburst. ‘One day you’ll be able to call me that, Jake. Christ knows it took Richmond a long enough time.’

  ‘Gradually breaking down those barriers.’ Drew winked.

  ‘I’d aged by a few years at that point. I just decided to give in, in the end.’ Liam hesitated. ‘Is this your first child?’

  ‘Second.’

  ‘Many congratulations to you,’ Garrison said. He lifted his beer in the middle of the table and called for a cheer. Everyone gave one, and the rest of the patrons inside The Head of the House turned to face them. Jake could feel their judgemental looks slicing into him, but he didn’t care; he was enjoying the banter and camaraderie with his new-found colleagues and friends.

  Garrison downed his pint and slammed it on the table upside down. ‘Jake, do you know what I’ve just realised.’

  ‘What?’ Jake replied, suddenly feeling anxious. His mind raced and tried to think of things he’d done wrong recently… if any.

  ‘This is your first time down here with the rest of us… and Drew. Do you know what that means?’

  Jake didn’t respond.

  ‘It’s time for twenty-one questions. This way we’ll get to know the real Jake Tanner.’

  Oh, God, Jake thought, preparing himself for a barrage of embarrassing and, he assumed, deeply personal probes.

  Drew was the first to go. ‘How long have you been a police officer?’<
br />
  Almost instantly, his question was met with a cacophony of deep groans and complaints.

  ‘That’s a shit one, you tit,’ Garrison said. Jake was beginning to learn that he was the loudest – as well as the eldest – of the group. The patriarchal one. The father figure. The one who, despite the lower rank, kept everyone on the straight and narrow.

  ‘What?’ Drew replied defensively. ‘It’s important.’

  ‘Go home,’ Liam shouted. ‘You’re shit at this. Nobody let him back in please. I’ve got one: what’s your deepest darkest secret?’

  The table went silent, save for the sounds of Clifton’s heavy and wheezy breathing.

  Jake paused for dramatic effect. He knew the answer straight away, and he had no intention of telling any of them.

  ‘They call it a secret for a reason.’

  ‘Give over!’ Liam said, rolling his eyes and leaning back in his chair in disgust. ‘You’ve got to tell us something. You could lie and we wouldn’t even know. Although…’ He leant closer to Jake. ‘I’m exceptionally well trained in the art of deceit. And I can tell if someone’s lying to me. Consider this your first warning.’

  Liam’s gaze remained fixed on Jake, and Jake was unable to tear his eyes from him. He didn’t doubt for a second that Liam was telling the truth, and that his warning was entirely credible.

  ‘I’ve got one,’ Garrison said, bringing Jake’s attention back to the table. ‘What’s your biggest fear?’

  ‘Failing my family,’ he said instantly. ‘Not being able to provide for them. Everything I do is for them. Everything. They’re my world, and I won’t stop until they’re happy and provided for.’

  ‘You two been practising these questions or something?’ Garrison asked, wagging his finger in the air between Jake and Liam. ‘It’s just that your answer seems to be well prepared.’

  ‘Like fuck we have,’ Liam said, jumping to Jake’s defence. ‘The man knows what he wants in life. That’s good—’

  ‘No, no,’ Drew added. ‘That’s not what we asked. That’s a different question entirely.’ He swallowed a mouthful of beer before continuing. ‘What do you want in life, Jake?’