She thought about leaving it. She was in a hurry, and wanted to find somewhere to dump the disguise, since it was way too risky to be driving around with all this gear in her car after what had just happened. But then she saw who the caller was, and she picked up immediately.
‘Mrs West? Are you OK?’
‘No, love,’ said Mrs West. ‘I’m afraid I’m not feeling too well. I’m in bed and I need some things. Are you at home?’
‘I’m not, but I can be back in an hour. Are the Morrises not about?’
There was a long pause.
‘Mrs West?’
‘I tried them, love, and they’re not there.’
Mrs West had been her neighbour for almost ten years now, and she’d always been good to Tina, and consequently Tina was very protective of her. ‘Don’t you worry,’ she said, ‘I’ll sort it out. What do you need?’
‘Just some milk and some sugar.’
‘OK, I’ll buy them on the way home and bring them straight over.’
There was another pause. ‘Thank you, love.’
Tina frowned. ‘Are you sure you’re OK, Mrs West? You don’t sound too good.’
But she was already speaking into a dead phone.
26
‘You missed all the drama,’ said DS Jane Tutill of Hounslow CID.
‘I know, I got stuck in traffic,’ said Bolt, looking at the caved-in door of the curry house then back at Tutill, who was probably no more than early thirties and thus a couple of decades younger than him. When the police started looking too young to be police then it was definitely time to retire, and in truth, that day couldn’t come fast enough for Bolt.
‘What happened?’ he asked.
‘Well, we responded to the NCA’s request for help, and had a surveillance team set up on this premises at …’ She consulted her notes. ‘17.24. No one came in or out until at 17.45 the team saw a male IC4 in his thirties, accompanied by a female IC4, age unknown, arrive and stop outside. The male made a call and they were let inside. Then approximately five minutes later, one of the team heard what sounded like a gunshot coming from inside the building. I was in another car and I made the decision to stage an entry in case there was threat to, or loss of, life. We got up there and found two IC4 males with superficial injuries inside a room that was being used as an office. There was also a loaded revolver on the floor which had just been fired, although it doesn’t look like anyone was hurt. We arrested three more IC4 males out the back as they were trying to escape, but there was no sign of the IC4 female.’
‘Anything else?’
‘One of the men we arrested told us that he was the one who gave the initial intelligence tip that Mason was expected this evening to get the passport and driving licence.’
‘Where’s he now?’
‘Down at Hounslow nick with the others, although I did manage to get a quick word with him before he went. He said that Mason came in there yesterday morning with a shaved head and a beard, and had his photo taken. He also told me that he was the one who produced the items for Mason, and he was told that he had to have them ready by six o’clock. Apparently, he finished them this afternoon and gave them to his boss two hours ago. The boss is one of those we arrested, but right now he’s not talking. None of them are. The thing is, though, there’s no sign of the passport or the driving licence in there, and we’ve already searched the place twice. And none of the suspects have got them either.’
‘Did the informant say why the shot was fired?’
She shook her head. ‘He didn’t even hear it. He and his colleagues were working in another room, which is soundproofed, and connected by a false wall. The first he knew anything was going on was when his boss, the female and another male came running through. They all went out the fire escape. I guess the female was the fastest, and it’s why she got away.’ She paused. ‘Do you think she was here to pick up Mason’s fake ID?’
Bolt thought about this for a minute. ‘The timing’s very coincidental if she wasn’t, and the ID would still be on the premises if she and the other guy had nothing to do with Mason. Have you got her on film?’
Tutill nodded and led him over the road to where an unmarked van was sandwiched between two patrol cars. A small, slightly bored-looking crowd were gathered nearby but since, for the moment, police activity was fairly minimal, it didn’t look they’d be hanging around for long.
Tutill pulled open the van doors and they climbed inside. A plainclothes officer sat reviewing pictures on a laptop surrounded by camera equipment, and she asked him if he had some good shots of their female suspect.
‘Well, we got shots and video,’ he said with a sigh, turning the laptop round so they could see it, ‘but I wouldn’t say they’re good. This is a woman who definitely doesn’t want to be seen. This is the best one.’ He pressed a couple of keys and an MPEG file came up on the screen with a still image of a man and a woman outside the curry house. The man had his back to the camera while the woman was looking partly towards it. She was dressed in Western clothing – jeans, trainers, a light summer jacket – but with a black hijab scarf covering her head and the bottom half of her face, and sunglasses.
The video started and the cameraman moved into close-up on the woman as she looked up and down the street, constantly moving her head and keeping it down to make it harder
