Their Lost Daughters (DI Jackman & DS Evans #2)(88)

Jackman was fastening his stab-proof vest. ‘Ready?’

‘Everyone is in position.’

‘You seem much more relaxed about this now, Marie’.

‘I’m fine. Sometimes you need to take extreme measures, especially when you are dealing with someone who thinks they are above the law. If Rosie and Max are up for this, then so am I.’

‘Me too.’ Jackman moved away from their vehicle and towards the ramshackle collection of huts and outbuildings that were scattered around the old grain store.

Marie came up beside him. ‘Max has produced some very tasty spyware for this operation,’ she whispered.

‘That lad has left nothing to chance. Those designer glasses have a camera embedded in one of the arms, and everything he sees is relayed to the lads in the van. They have an HD digital video recorder and everything is being backed up, along with anything we hear on Rosie’s wire.’

‘Well, we’ve sent in the bait. We just have to hope that the big fish will swim in the pool tonight.’

*

The grain store had been abandoned years before, and Rosie guessed that it had been chosen because there were no neighbours for miles around.

She smiled lasciviously at the man on the door, and whispered, ‘I said, I’d be back, didn’t I?’

He nodded and openly stared at her cleavage.

‘Hope you don’t mind, I brought my boyfriend.’ She nodded at Max, who was staring with apparent disinterest at the weird surroundings. ‘It seems to me you get more fun here if you have someone to play with.’

‘You should have come and found me, sweetie.’ He ran a finger down her bare arm. ‘We could have had some fun.’

‘You were far too busy, handsome.’ She leaned closer to the doorman and whispered, ‘Should I leave him behind next time, what do you think?’

‘I think that’s a really good idea, babe.’

‘Petra,’ she said.

‘Nice name. I’m Lenny.’

‘I’ll remember that.’ Rosie blew him a kiss, draping her arm over Max’s shoulder.

After half an hour of drinking and trance music, the partygoers were beginning to loosen up. Max had found what he decided was the optimum spot for people watching, especially the older men that were collecting in the shadows.

‘Sorry, Detective, but we need to either dance or snog, unless you want people to notice.’ Rosie put her arm around his waist and pulled him towards her. ‘You choose.’

‘No offence, flower, but dancing will give me more chance to see who’s coming and going through that back door.’

‘None taken. Groove away.’

‘Shit, was it like this last time?’ asked Max, watching a couple of kids who looked about twelve, getting busy on a wooden bench.

‘You’ve seen nothing yet, Maxie-boy,’ Rosie took a sip from her can of lager. ‘Just like I’ve seen nothing of our bloody target.’

‘Maybe he won’t show. He knows Toby Tanner is dead, and that he was linked to the parties.’

Rosie leaned over his shoulder. ‘No, he’ll be relieved that Tanner’s out of the picture. Harlan Marsh is under his thumb, and he thinks we are far too busy tidying up Windrush to worry about anything else.’

Rosie moved to the thumping beat. ‘He won’t be able to stay away from his dirty little enterprise.’

Another twenty minutes went by, and Rosie began to wonder what they could do that wouldn’t be the talk of the mess room for the next five years.

‘Jackpot.’ Max moved closer to her, turning her slightly, as if in an embrace. Two men were standing just inside the back door.

‘Cade,’ muttered Max. ‘And bang in my sights. Hope you’re seeing this, guys?’

Rosie wound herself around to Max’s side. She recognised him immediately. The greased back hair and the glasses were no disguise at all. ‘All we need now is to get something on him that he can’t wriggle out of.’

The music pulsed and the ravers gyrated around them. ‘Rosie! Watch him!’

Rosie leant down, ostensibly to pick up a can from the floor. She knelt for a moment, her eyes trained on Cade, seeing him take a roll of notes from the other man and push them into his pocket.

Rosie saw Cade beckon to a dancing teenager, talk to her for a few moments, and then gently push her towards the man beside him. The girl, with the older man’s hand on her shoulder, left through the back door.

‘Do we go now?’ asked Max edgily.

‘Hang fire.’ Rosie had seen two girls, who looked totally wrecked, approaching Cade.

‘Oh lovely! Keep it up, kids, let’s see what he does. Have you got him lined up, Max?’

‘Centre stage. This couldn’t have gone better if we’d set it up.’

As they watched, the two teenagers flirted with the older man, and to Rosie’s delight, he began to reciprocate. First, a kiss, then a hand on a buttock. The hand slid around the girl’s tight miniskirt and began to slide beneath the shiny material.

‘Gotcha, slimeball! Time to go! All units!’

Rosie and Max threw their beer cans to the ground and, side-stepping the dancers, hurried forward directly towards Cade.

‘Perhaps you’d like to come with us, sir.’

Without waiting for an answer, they bundled him backwards through the door and into the back room. ‘James Cade, I’m arresting you—’