The safe receipt of the shipment was more important, after all.
The man was right, of course. A lot of money had already been invested, and he had four extremely powerful shareholders to answer to if the goods didn’t arrive as scheduled.
Men whose reach extended well beyond the southern county’s borders.
Men who could end his life at any given moment.
Oliver Tavender had worked tirelessly over the past three days to ensure all traces of his boss’s life had been erased, and Demiri reluctantly admitted to himself that the man wasn’t expendable.
It troubled him, to have to depend on one person so much, but he didn’t have a choice. Not if he was to survive.
He knew when the time came that he would sacrifice Tavender to ensure his own freedom, and it troubled him that the man probably realised it.
He had no-one he could trust, and it was all Detective Hunter’s fault.
He clenched his fist, resisting the urge to leave the safety of the building and hunt her down.
She would come to him, he knew it.
She wouldn’t be able to resist.
He dropped his gaze to the road outside at movement to his right, but it was only the small silver hatchback that belonged to an old woman who lived half a mile away. He checked his watch, noted that her departure fitted the exact timing that had been observed every week for the past three months, and let his shoulders relax.
He turned from the window and moved over to a moth-eaten armchair, sinking into the soft cushions before reaching out to a small side table and picking up the large mug of soup that had been delivered to him minutes before by his host.
Tavender was away, running a final late afternoon errand that would erase a final piece of the puzzle for Detective Hunter and ensure Demiri could leave behind his legacy and start afresh.
He ran his eyes over the new passport that lay on the table, its rich burgundy colour embossed with the symbols of the European Union. He consoled himself with the fact he could still escape with ease and travel anywhere on the Continent, and had spent the past three days contemplating where best to set up his new operations.
It would take time, and money, but he had both.
It was the effect that running would have on his closely guarded reputation that worried him.
He had spent years growing the business, expanding it beyond the risky drugs empire he had first coveted and then discovering a whole new demand amongst his more elite customers.
He didn’t count them as his equal, though. And they would be insulted if they thought he did.
To them, he was a supplier, nothing more.
He put down the mug of soup, steam rising from it on the cold air in the room, and picked up his notebook, tracing his thumb over the brown leather cover before slipping the band from around the pages and opening it to a page of neat handwriting.
Despite the assurances he’d always given to his clients, he kept a tally of their names, visits, and the money that passed between them. Together with the film that was kept on a server buried within the darkest reaches of the worldwide web, Demiri hoped he had enough insurance to keep them from hunting him for a while.
His thoughts returned to DS Hunter, and a pleasant shiver crossed his spine.
He’d heard, of course, that she hadn’t been seen at either of his properties that morning, and for a moment he’d felt disappointment. It had soon been tempered with the realisation that perhaps her superiors thought her too valuable to be wasted on what turned out to be a fruitless search, and he settled back into the armchair, content in the knowledge that neither she nor his colleagues knew where he was, or of his plans for her.
His instructions to Tavender had been clear.
DS Hunter was his, and his alone.
He let the hot soup scald his mouth and throat, savouring the pain it brought, and stared at the bleak landscape beyond the window.
He would have his time with Detective Hunter, and soon.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
By the time the team returned to the incident room, a grey gloom had enveloped the town and a coolness had ended the afternoon, threatening rain.
A downcast Barnes had sunk into his chair before putting his feet up on the desk and resting his chin in his hand.
Kay placed a steaming mug of tea in front of him, and then frowned.
‘Debbie? Have you seen DCI Harrison? I thought he wanted us all here for a briefing at half four?’
‘Not for the past thirty minutes, no. Disappeared with his phone glued to his ear.’
Kay swallowed.
No doubt the DCI would be receiving the Chief Superintendent’s thoughts on Demiri’s disappearance, and in turn the team could expect short shrift when he returned.
Barnes scrunched up a note that had been stuck to his computer screen by one of the administrative team members and lobbed it at the wastepaper basket, his top lip curling when it bounced off the side and fell to the floor instead.
They both looked up as Gavin opened the door, holding it open for Carys before the pair of them trudged towards their desks, their expressions downcast.
Sharp peered out from his office. ‘Piper, Miles – grab yourselves a hot drink and we’ll debrief.’
‘D’you want to wait for Harrison, guv?’ said Kay.
‘No, I do not want to wait for bloody Harrison. It was his idea to have this debrief, so he can bloody well turn up on time. We’ll start without him. Miles looks dead on her feet as it is.’
Carys gave him a wan smile and made her way over to the kettle.
Kay and Barnes wandered over to the whiteboard, quickly joined by the others.
Ten hours had already passed since the early morning briefing, and Kay was grateful Sharp had sent the junior members of the team home some time ago.
They would
