‘I’m back in my motor, parked up close to the Yard of Ale on Oundle Road. The pair of them have been inside for a little over twenty minutes.’
‘I know the place. I wonder if it’s a regular haunt. Teddy, you were following Watson. Did you see Moss go inside or was he already in there?’
‘Watson arrived first and hung about outside. When Moss showed up a few minutes later, they went in together.’
‘So it was a prearranged meet. Did you happen to notice how Moss got there? Did he drive or is he on Shanks’s?’
‘He walked, as far as I could tell – though I suppose he could have driven and parked out of sight around the back.’
Bliss’s mind stirred through all of the possibilities. ‘Let’s hope it’s the former, because that might mean he lives close by. Mate, I’m sorry I can’t get away. You’re on your own time, and I know your beef is with Watson. You do what you need to do.’
‘Fair enough. But what would you like me to do, Jimmy? You want me to follow Moss?’
‘I’d love to know where he’s kipping down. As much as I’ve enjoyed my little chats with Neil Watson, it’d be good to give Moss a go to test how loyal he is to his mate.’
Barr seemed pleased. ‘Consider it done. I do want to give Watson a taste of his own, but I’m not strong enough yet. I can see how it would help knowing where to find Moss, so leave it to me.’
‘You sure?’
‘Yeah, no worries.’
‘Cheers. And Teddy… take care, mate.’
Bliss took a deep breath as he ended the call. He gazed out of the stairway window; the dull and dreary day cast a pall across the entire city. He felt it creep through the glass pane to envelop him. Rain was on the way, and as he thought about the phone call a chill ripped through his body. Barr was a decent man, and probably feeling embarrassed at getting caught unawares by the likes of Watson. He sought revenge, but he also understood the longer game. Giving Watson a hiding could wait. Snapping the cuffs on and putting him where he belonged was still the ultimate goal. Bliss knew he could trust Barr to do the right thing.
As he climbed the stairs up to the second floor and rain began to tap against the window, his phone went off again – this time a text. He was intrigued to see Sara’s name pop up on the screen; he hadn’t expected to hear from her directly at all, let alone so soon.
The message contained two words, in urgent capital letters: CALL ME.
Bliss pulled up the number and dialled immediately. ‘Sara? Thank you for your message. It’s DS Bliss. Do you have something for me?’
‘Yes. I think I have something to help you.’
‘Good. Take your time and tell me everything.’
‘I hear from another WhatsApp friend. She know Abbi well. She say she has not heard from Abbi, and Abbi is not answering phone. This we knew already, yes? But when I ask about man Abbi sees often, she tell me Abbi has new boyfriend. He is first client, then boyfriend. Abbi tell her this man is kind to her. He want them to be together.’
Bliss licked his lips, felt the keen nudge of anticipation. ‘Did she mention a name, Sara? Is this the Des from before? The same man?’
‘Yes. But the reason I call is she tell friend one thing I think will help. The man has… I cannot remember word for this, but he has place that take care of dogs.’
‘You mean a vet? A veterinarian?
‘No. Not this. He take care of dogs when owners go away, yes?’
‘He runs a kennel?’
‘Yes! That is it. A kennel. She know nothing more than this. But it helps, yes?’
Bliss felt elation tug at his insides. If the man had not been lying to Abbi and either ran or worked at a kennel, the scope of their impossible search had narrowed considerably.
‘It’s a massive help, Sara,’ he said. ‘Thank you so much for letting me know.’
‘You find Abbi now, yes?’
‘We’ll do our best. Just know that what you’ve told me might be all the difference we needed.’
This time when he tucked his phone away, Bliss ran up the stairs; his muscles protested, but he didn’t care. This was the best news he’d had since first laying eyes on Majidah Rassooli’s cold, dead body on the frosty chalk pits of Cambridge.
Thirty-Four
However unconnected they might eventually prove to be, breaks in a case often came along together like a fleet of London buses. Bliss had barely finished telling his colleagues about his conversation with Sara when first Glen Ashton and then Chandler received their own rewarding updates.
The NCA investigator gave a loud cry of triumph and jumped to his feet. ‘Yes!’ he cried, slamming two balled fists on the surface of the desk he’d vacated. ‘We found the source of our dark website – and the device uploading data to it!’
All heads turned his way. His beaming face shone with excitement. Gone was the naïve posture of previous days; in its place was a man secure in the knowledge that he had earned a reward for a job well done.
‘It’s a specialist provider called Zen. Our traces bypassed every VPN and proxy and found their way to the source router. I’m about to begin the process of compelling the company to give us the details of the account owner.’
This prompted cheers, backslapping and wide grins all round. ‘Great job, Glen,’ Bishop said. ‘You too, Gul. You’ve both worked really well together, and this is terrific news.’
‘I’ve just taken an interesting call, too,’ Chandler said. ‘I think the rub
