One by one, the team moved into the downstairs rooms and, after checking them out, gave the ’all clear’. Thankfully, someone switched the TV off, bringing blessed silence and making it easier for them to communicate with each other.
With the ground floor now secured, the firearms team advanced to the first floor, where there were three doors, presumably leading into two bedrooms and a bathroom. Using the ballistic shields, these rooms were cleared in the same efficient fashion as the ground floor ones had been.
Lastly, the loft hatch was pulled down, and a very brave officer offered to pop his gun, and then his Kevlar helmeted head, over the top to check if it was empty.
To everyone’s relief, it was.
As soon as the cottage was fully under SO19’s control, and Newman was satisfied that it was empty, Jack and his team were allowed in.
“I’m getting sick of this,” Tyler growled as he walked into the living room and looked around. “Every time we think we’ve caught a lucky break, it either turns out to be a false lead or the bird has flown the nest minutes before we’ve arrived.”
“Are we sure that this is definitely the right location?” Tim Newman asked, his weapon cradled across his chest and his beetroot red face covered in sweat from having been ensconced in the Nomex balaclava for the last fifteen minutes.
“We are,” Jack said. “This address was in the van’s Sat Nav.”
George Copeland walked over carrying a wastebasket he had found in the bathroom. “Full of blood-stained bandages,” he said, holding it up for them to see. “Pound to a penny they belong to Winston.”
“So, where have the slippery fuckers disappeared to this time?” Dillon asked, scratching his head.
Tyler sighed despondently. “God knows,” he said. “All we can do now is wait for Meade to move, and pray that when Steve follows him to his boat, Winston is there waiting for him.”
◆◆◆
Jack and Susie were following Dillon and Charlie White back to their previous RVP at The Bell public house in Iden when his phone rang, shattering the heavy silence that had prevailed throughout the short journey. They had swapped drivers, so he was able to answer it himself. It was Reg Parker, and he sounded excited. “Boss, Reggie here. There are developments you need to know about.”
“What have you got?” Tyler asked, feeling pensive. He hoped it was going to be good news for a change; he could really do with some.
“Garston has recently sent a text to Dawlish’s phone. It reads: ‘No sign of your flat key. Taking Claude to the boat now. Should be setting sail just after midnight so come to Harbour and collect me ASAP. Text back to confirm you are coming. G.’ The TIU has just pinged his phone and they confirm it’s moving towards Rye Harbour.”
“That makes sense,” Jack said. “We’ve not long finished at the cottage. Although it was empty when SO19 went in, there were signs of recent occupation.”
“Is there anything more I can do at this end?” Reg asked.
Tyler considered this. “Actually, Reg, there is. On my desk, you’ll find a contact telephone number for the Coastguard. Can you speak to Carol Keating and get her to ring them regarding Meade’s intended sailing time? I think his boat’s called The Edna May but check with Dean. He’s got all thedetails of the vessel on his desk. I need Carol to ask the Coastguard if there’s any chance of them readying a boat to intercept The Edna May, just in case we don’t get there in time to prevent her from sailing? Tell her to make sure that whoever she speaks to is made fully aware that Winston’s armed and extremely dangerous, and that we can provide SFOs if they want.”
“Do they even do that sort of thing – board vessels, I mean?” Reggie asked.
“I don’t know, “Jack admitted. “But if they don’t, they’re bound to know how to scramble a naval vessel, or at least notify the French authorities that the boat’s heading their way.”
“Good point,” Reg said excitedly. “Maybe it can be tracked on radar and intercepted at sea.”
“Maybe,” Jack said. “Get Carol onto this straight away for me. In the meantime, we’re almost at the RVP at Iden. As soon as we get there, I’ll brief the team and get them redeployed to Rye.” As he spoke, his phone beeped, letting him know there was another incoming call.
“Reg, I think Steve’s ringing me. It might mean the Meade’s on the move, so I’ll have to go.” He quickly killed the call and then tried to answer the incoming one, but only succeeded in cutting Bull off.
“Bollocks,” he cursed, redialling Steve’s number. “Sorry, Steve, I accidentally pressed the wrong button,” he said as soon as they were connected. “What have you got?”
Tyler listened to Bull’s latest update in silence.
“Is Dick okay?” he asked when Bull had finished speaking.
Susie glanced sideways at that.
“He’s fine,” Bull reassured him. “I’ve told him to head for Rye and meet us there. Me and Paul are just leaving our B&B and heading down to the harbour to plot up on Meade’s boat. From what Dick said, the fisherman should be there very shortly.”
“Let me know as soon as you’ve got eyeball on the boat. I want to know the minute there’s any sighting of Winston, Garston or Meade.”
“You got it, boss,” Bull promised and hung up.
“What happened to Dick?” Susie asked.
Before he could explain, his mobile started ringing again. Tyler frowned. Why was Reg calling him back so soon? He pressed the green button and raised the phone to his ear.
“What’s up?”
“Boss, Garston has started ringing Dawlish’s phone. Three calls so far, one after the other.” In the background a ringtone became audible. “Make that four,” Reg said. “What do you want me to do?”
“Don’t do anything,” Jack said. “If
