Simon Kernick - The Crime Trade

‘It’s off the A22 in Surrey, just south of Blindley Heath.’

‘Good. You’ll be seeing your daughter shortly.’

Stegs hung up, and called Tino to get an update on how Judy was doing. She was back under again, courtesy of several further doses of the Rohypnol, but Tino was getting worried now. Stegs told him to dose her up one more time when she showed signs of coming round, and said that he’d be there to deal with everything first thing in the morning. ‘Hopefully we can just let her go,’ he said.

Tino grunted something and Stegs hung up on him, before putting some more coins in the slot and making yet another call.

DCS Noel Flanagan leant forward in the seat and put his head in his hands, holding the position for several minutes, the pressure in his chest almost unbearable as the terror battered away at him. In all his days as a police officer, he had never felt as helpless as he did at that moment. Suddenly he had absolutely no control over events, events that could indelibly shape his future and that of his family.

His daughter, his beloved daughter, was in grievous danger, and all he could do was obey the instructions he’d been given and, by doing so, break the laws he was paid to uphold, thus putting his colleagues right in the firing line.

Was it that bastard Jenner? Was he behind it? The slippery little fuck had always hated him, ever since that time with Frank Rentners. But that hadn’t been his fault; there’d been nothing he could have done about it. Sometimes things just went wrong on an op, even with the best will in the world, and an undercover copper had to be prepared for that, not lash out at his superiors the minute he was put in danger. Jenner hadn’t played by the rules and had paid the price, but could he really hate Flanagan so much that he’d resort to kidnapping his daughter? If he had, Flanagan would kill him. Tear the bastard apart for putting him through this.

But what if it wasn’t Jenner? What if it was someone else who had Judy? What if they’d killed her? Surely they wouldn’t do that. There was no need. He was going to do everything they said. Anything to protect his child.

The terror kept battering away at him, and his heart felt like it was on fire, but he forced himself to calm down, deliberately slowing his breathing until it was normal again. Then he got to his feet, composed himself, and returned to the lounge where his wife was reading the latest Danielle Steel, oblivious to the predicament he was in.

Stegs arrived at Tino’s holiday apartment at six a.m. the following morning, this time by car. He’d driven the back routes through Harlesden and down into Maida Vale before joining the Marylebone Road near Regent’s Park, keeping a careful eye out for any sign that he was being followed. He’d already made that mistake once with Boyd, and it had almost cost him everything. He wasn’t going to make it again, especially now that Flanagan’s suspicions were up.

There was an underground car park beneath the block of flats, constructed several years previously in an effort to flash the place up a little, and Stegs drove up to the entrance. He punched in the code Tino had given him and drove inside as the barrier went up, finding the spot for Tino’s pad at the far end on the right, conveniently close to the lift. Not surprisingly, for that time in the morning, there was no-one about and the car park was only half full. Stegs yawned, parked up and got out, making his way to the lift.

The missus had given him serious grief that morning about waking her up at quarter past five and had demanded to know where he thought he was going. He’d told her it was a new assignment and that it wouldn’t be lasting long, and in an effort to placate her had added that he was going to take her advice and leave the Force. ‘I don’t need this hassle any more,’ was his explanation. She’d just mumbled something unpleasant and gone back to sleep, and he’d taken the opportunity to throw on some clothes and leave.

He didn’t run into anybody on his short journey through the building to Tino’s apartment, which was just as well. They were going to be transporting Judy Flanagan back this way to his car, almost certainly blindfolded, so the last thing they needed was to bump into one or more of the neighbours. Stegs wasn’t a hundred per cent sure what to do if they did. He was carrying a replica Browning automatic pistol which had more chance of doing a dance routine than firing a shot, but the sight of it would hopefully put off any would-be heroes. However, it would also draw attention to what was going on, and possibly fuck up the whole thing, and he couldn’t have that. He therefore chose to rely on his foolproof method of dealing with all such eventualities: hope they didn’t happen and not think about them. It usually worked.

He knocked gently on Tino’s door, and a few seconds later the Dutchman answered, wearing his now trademark worried expression. Without speaking, he ushered Stegs inside.

‘How’s she doing?’ whispered Stegs when he’d shut the door.

‘I had to put her under again, man. She was coming round, but I can’t keep doing this.’

‘What’s she doing now?’

‘Sleeping. What do you think?’

‘Don’t get fucking cheeky. Have you been giving her plenty of water?’

‘Yeah, yeah. She’s OK, but she hasn’t eaten.’

‘Don’t worry about that. She’s hardly anorexic.’

‘You’re a very cruel man, Mark,’ said Tino, glaring at him with an intensity he’d never displayed in any of his films.

‘And you’re my wicked accomplice. In fact, you’re the one who’s held this poor young lady hostage and drugged her, so don’t give me any of that shit. Now, get her up. We’re going to take her down to my car.’

‘And that is it for me then, yes?’

Stegs nodded, as keen to see the back of Tino as Tino was to see the back of him. ‘That’s right.’

Tino sighed, then turned and went into the bedroom, Stegs following.

Judy Flanagan was asleep in pretty much the same position she had been the other morning, and Stegs had to admit that she was looking very pale and wan. He got a flash of guilt, then pushed it away. Tonight she’d be back in the family seat and all this would be nothing more than a bizarre dream. Judy Flanagan had had more than a passing flirtation with drugs, like so many middle-class girls from good homes, and there was a story going round that she’d been found once by her old man in the parental bed, out of her head on coke, Ecstasy and God knows what else, naked and semi-conscious as she received the attentions of two of the local dealers. A most shocking sight for parents anywhere, particularly when Daddy was senior Old Bill, only a step or two away from an assistant commissioner post. Judy would probably assume that she’d had a bit of a relapse, and had indulged a little bit too much. Either way, she’d be in no position to press charges.

As they stopped to watch her, she stirred, murmuring something.

‘I think she’s coming round,’ said Tino.

‘Well, let’s get her down quickly then. Throw some clothes on her.’

Tino pulled back the covers, and Stegs couldn’t help but take a quick admiring glance at her naked body. She was slim with pale, smooth skin and curves in all the right places. Her pussy was trimmed neatly as well and she was sporting a ‘Brazilian’, which Stegs thought was a nice touch. The missus, who tended to go for the more unkempt ‘Congo’ look, could have taken a leaf out of that particular bush.

Judy moaned vaguely and Tino pulled a top over her head while Stegs located her knickers and tugged them on. A couple of minutes later and she was fully clad in the garments she’d been kidnapped in, but her eyes were flickering now and Tino was looking nervous.