Bolt asked him to pause it at that point. He stared at the woman’s hand as she moved the hijab. The skin didn’t seem as dark as the skin on her face, and she was wearing dark nail varnish.
Tina had been wearing exactly the same nail varnish that morning. She’d also been wearing very similar jeans. The woman looked to be about five feet seven and she was of Tina’s build.
Bolt made a noise under his breath. He’d known as soon as he’d been told about the mysterious IC4 female who’d managed to escape the scene, leaving behind a couple of injured men and a freshly fired gun, that it was probably Tina. Add to it the coincidental timing and the missing documents, and now the footage of the surveillance-aware woman in the hijab, and he was convinced of it.
His immediate emotion was anger. Tina had lied to him that morning and had clearly been helping Mason all along. Well, if this was how she wanted to play things, then she’d have to accept the consequences.
‘Does she look familiar?’ Tutill asked him when they were back outside.
‘No,’ said Bolt wearily, ‘I don’t think so. She’ll have left DNA in there, though. Have you got a SOCO team coming in?’
‘We’re waiting for one to come available. I don’t suppose the NCA have got any spare?’
This was the problem with policing nowadays. Years of government cuts had pared the police service to the bone, to the extent that it was fair to say they could no longer do their jobs properly. He shook his head. ‘No, we’re as stretched as everyone else. As soon as the team have swept the place and the gun for DNA let me know, and I’ll see if I can get a priority on the results.’
Tutill shrugged. ‘It’s your case, do what you want. It’s just a load of extra paperwork for us.’
Bolt smiled. ‘I know, and I’m sorry. At least you got a counterfeit operation out of it.’
‘There’ll be another one opening tomorrow. Maybe the same guys. You know what it’s like.’
‘I do,’ he said. ‘We’re fighting a losing battle.’
She shook her head. ‘No. I think it’s already lost.’
Sadly, Bolt shared her sentiment. It was another reason why retirement couldn’t come fast enough. He thanked Tutill for her help, told her he’d be in touch, and walked back to where he’d parked his car further down the road, contemplating his next move. If the woman in the hijab was Tina – and he was 95 per cent certain she was – then she’d clearly done everything possible to cover her tracks. That meant she probably hadn’t come here in her own car, so unless she’d left DNA it was going to be very hard to prove that she’d been here, and even that alone wasn’t going to be enough to arrest her.
But if she had hold of the fake IDs for Mason it meant she was going to have to give them to him at some point. It was time, therefore, to put her under proper surveillance.
He was just about to put in a call to DCS Trinder to get the necessary authorization when his phone rang.
It was Mo. ‘Any joy on the op, boss?’
Bolt sighed. ‘Mason didn’t turn up but I think Tina Boyd did, heavily disguised, and got away with the documents. We need to get people on her ASAP.’
‘I think we might have enough to nick her, boss. We’ve found the car Mason escaped in. It was hidden in woodland near a hamlet in Essex. He’d rubbed mud on the number plates, which was why we weren’t able to track it. The local police up there were investigating reports of shots being fired in the vicinity when they found it. And here’s the thing. It was only a mile and a half from where Tina Boyd’s car was picked up on the ANPR last night.’
Bolt felt a surge of anger. ‘There’s no way it’s a coincidence. She’s been playing us, Mo. She must have picked Mason up last night. What do we know about the gunshots?’
‘Not a lot. Police got three separate reports of shots being fired at about 11.30 p.m. They sent an ARV but didn’t find anyone with gunshot wounds, but they sent another patrol car round there this afternoon, just to take another look, and that’s when they found it. The timing looks right for Tina being there too. Her car was picked up twice on the same camera just outside Nazeing, heading towards where the shots were fired at 10.42 p.m. and then heading away in the direction of the M25 at 11.43 p.m. Do you think we missed Mason in the search of the house this morning?’
‘I don’t see how. But we could have done.’
‘What do you want to do, boss?’
Bolt swallowed hard. Tina had lied to him repeatedly. She was involved up to the hilt, just as, deep down, he’d always known she was. ‘I want her nicked right away and the house searched from top to bottom. Get onto the locals. Tell them to send ARVs in case Mason’s armed. This whole charade’s got to end.’
27
The village where Tina lived was picture-postcard, with a single main street containing a corner shop that was still run by a local couple, a twelfth-century church, and a decent pub, which she still popped into occasionally, even though no alcohol had passed her lips for more than a decade now. It was always quiet
