'And he was the last person who called her?'
'Yes. It was just now.'
Bolt looked at his watch. Five to eight. Just under an hour since the money had disappeared.
'Thank you, sir,' he said, 'you've been a great help.'
'And you. Let me know when you've got the bastard in custody.'
'Course I will,' Bolt said, ending the call.
He took a deep breath, brutally aware that he was suspended and that unless he played things right this lead counted for nothing. He had to do something, and fast. Mo or Tina – who did he call? Who did he trust?
Mo was the colleague he'd always trusted the most, but things had changed between them these past twenty-four hours, possibly irreversibly. Tina, meanwhile, was the person on the team with the best access to the phone companies, and he remembered the look she'd given him in the meeting that morning. Was it empathy? Some kind of understanding? He was stepping over a line by contacting her, he knew that. Asking her to put her own job in jeopardy as a favour to him. And she was such an enigmatic person, so difficult to read, that he had no idea whether she'd help him or not.
There was only one way to find out. He dialled her number, willing her to answer, concentrating so much on this latest development that he didn't even notice that the traffic ahead of him was moving until he heard the horns blaring. As he touched the accelerator and moved forward, her voice came on the line. Clear and businesslike as always.
'Tina Boyd.'
'Tina, it's Mike.'
He heard her sharp intake of breath.
'I didn't expect to hear from you. There's no more news. Matt's in surgery at the moment.'
His thoughts returned to Turner. Poor sod. If only he'd stayed behind at Andrea's house.
'Listen, sir, we're snowed under here. I'm going to have to go.'
'I need a favour.'
'But you're suspended.'
'I know that, but this is urgent, and it's to do with the case. I've got a mobile number for Scott Ridgers – that suspect I was talking to you about earlier who turned out to be one of Andrea's gardeners. He's just used it, literally minutes ago, to make a call. If we can get a trace on that number, it'll lead us straight to him.'
'How did you find this out?'
Bolt explained as briefly as he could.
'I can speak to Steve Evans, but I'm not sure he'll be able, or willing, to authorize it.'
'No, don't speak to him. I can tell you now, he won't authorize it. Just do it. Please.'
'I can't, sir. You're suspended. It could cost me my job.' She sighed. 'I'm sorry.'
'She's my daughter, Tina.'
'What?'
'Emma Devern. She's my daughter. Check with Mo if you don't believe me. It's why I've been so highly strung since this all began.'
'God, I . . . I don't know what to say.'
'Don't say anything. Just help me, please. If we don't act fast, Emma could die.'
'I can't believe you're putting me in this position, Mike.'
'Do you think I want to? Look, there's no way on God's earth I would ask you to do this unless I absolutely had to.' He could hear the desperation in his voice, hated it.
Tina was silent for two, maybe three seconds.
'OK, let me have the number.'
He reeled it off for her.
'I'll do what I can, but it might take some time.'
'This is my daughter. There is no time.'
'If you're lying to me,' she said evenly, 'I'll kill you.'
Forty-five
Emma awoke with a start, sitting bolt upright. It was dark in the room, and her mouth felt bone dry. She wondered how long she'd been out. Without a watch it was difficult to tell, but it was a while. Half an hour, something like that. She rubbed her eyes, swung her legs off the bed and remembered that she'd been very close to getting the chain free from the wall.
And then she heard a loud bang. It was the sound of the front door shutting.
They were back.
