*
Bennett handed Delaney a cup of tea as, behind them, a squad of SOCO and CID headed into the boat shed. Bennett shook his head, puzzled. ‘She could kill all those people. Could cut the head off her own mother, and yet couldn’t bring herself to kill the man who had been holding her captive all these years.’
‘The adult Alice couldn’t – the controlling personality.’
‘Stockholm syndrome?’
Delaney shrugged. ‘Something like it … which was why she brought Gloria here to do it for her, I guess.’
‘And she couldn’t kill Thompson either?’
‘No. And I’m glad. She’s had enough to deal with as it is.’
‘You’d have pulled the trigger?’
Delaney looked at him for a moment. ‘I take it you’re not really from Doncaster?’ he said, taking a sip of the hot, sweet tea.
‘No. Organised crime tactical unit. Right here in this fair city. CO19 before that.’
‘So. How did you find us?’
‘You were under investigation, Jack.’
‘Me?’ said Delaney, trying to keep his face neutral. A number of possibilities running through his mind about what he could have been investigated for. None of them good.
‘A guy called Alexander Zaitsev. Came here in the early 1990s. Russian Mafia. A major, major player. Drug dealing, prostitution, people trafficking. He’s been the focus of our attention for a long time and today we moved to close him down. Multitask forces from the States, Russia, France, Holland and Great Britain all coordinating.’
Delaney’s brow furrowed. ‘What the hell’s that got to do with me?’
‘Zaitsev’s London accountant.’
Delaney took another sip of his tea and the penny dropped. ‘Roger Yates,’ he said.
‘Exactly. Your brother-in-law. Up to his neck in laundering money for Zaitsev. We weren’t sure about your connection. You just bought a house in Belsize Park and paid a very large deposit in cash. Let’s just say our interest was piqued. As was Zaitsev’s: he wasn’t sure if Yates was feeding you information, apparently, so he tried to take you out.’
‘The shooter at the burger van?’
‘Yep.’
‘And the woods?’
Bennett shook his head.
‘How can you be sure?’
‘Someone like Zaitsev goes down and, believe me, there are all kinds of high-level lieutenants queuing up to do a deal.’
‘So who did it?’
‘Don’t know. But it wasn’t the Russians.’
‘But it was this Zaitsev who worked Roger over?’
Bennett nodded. ‘His people, anyway. Yates wasn’t supposed to survive.’
Delaney shrugged. ‘This is all news to me.’
‘I know, inspector. Yates agreed to give us what we needed. He’s turned Queen’s evidence. You’re in the clear on this.’
Delaney nodded, relieved: he had too many skeletons in the closet for too much close examination. ‘I still don’t understand how you came to be here.’
‘Just in the nick of time, too.’ Bennett smiled.
‘Well, yes.’ Delaney didn’t like to dwell too much on the recent memory of a deranged woman pointing a shotgun at him and pulling the trigger.
‘After the operation today I was in White City briefing your boss,’ said Bennett. ‘Kate spoke to me – she was worried about you when you dropped off the radar.’
‘And …’
Bennett grinned more widely. ‘And you didn’t drop off
Delaney finished his tea. ‘Please tell me your name’s not Tony Bennett, at least?’
Bennett held his grin. ‘Nah. It’s Tony Hamilton.’
Delaney held his hand out. ‘Nice to meet you. Thanks for the assist.’
The younger cop slapped him on the arm. ‘Well, you’re the poster boy for the Met, aren’t you? We couldn’t have your face plastered over that boathouse wall.’
Delaney grimaced again at the memory. ‘What’s going to happen to Roger?’
Tony Hamilton shrugged. ‘Don’t know. Witness-protection programme, I should imagine. You’ll probably never
