I can promise you that.’ He stood up. ‘All right. Thanks, Stevie.’
‘What, that’s it? You’re off? What about me? Come on, man. You made a promise.’ Lockwood’s voice was rising, his fear genuine.
Pete hammered on the door with his fist. ‘Don’t panic,’ he said. ‘It’s bad for you.’
The lock rattled again and Pete stepped aside to allow the door to swing inward.
‘What are you doing, you bastard?’ Lockwood shouted.
Pete turned and winked at him, then stepped out. He waited until the door was locked firmly behind him, Lockwood yelling desperately on the other side of it, before turning to the guard. ‘Keep him in there for now while I have a word with the governor.’
‘Right you are, sir. This way.’
*
Pete scooted his chair around to Jane’s side of the desks.
‘Ben.’
Myers looked up and Pete nodded for him to come around and join the rest of the team on the other side of their desks. When they were all together in a tight bunch, Pete leaned forward, elbows on his knees. ‘Dave, keep half an eye on the rest of them, will you? This is strictly between us for now.’ He glanced around his team. He had their full and serious attention now.
‘What is it?’ Jane asked.
‘Has anyone here heard of the Armenian?’
Blank looks and shaking heads gave Pete all the answer he needed.
‘Gagik Petrosyan?’
More shaking heads.
‘Who’s he?’
‘Good question. I’ve been talking to the bloke who gave us Ian Sanderson. He says that Petrosyan is known as the Armenian, and he’s the likeliest source of the sux used to paralyse Jerry Tyler and possibly the insulin used on Andrew Michaels. Yet, not only was Petrosyan not arrested last week, no Armenians were.’ His gaze went around the team again.
‘None?’ asked Dave.
Pete tilted his head. ‘I checked with the prison governor.’
‘And you believe Lockwood?’ asked Jill.
‘His fear of Petrosyan was genuine. He didn’t want to tell me and, when he had, I let him sweat for a minute or two, to make sure. So, yes. I believe him.’
‘These Eastern Europeans can be some vicious bastards,’ Dave said. ‘Armenians, Albanians, Romanians – the gangs up London and so on, they’re into all sorts. People trafficking, prostitution, drugs, the lot. And you certainly don’t mess with them, that’s for sure.’
‘Yeah, but for none of them to be arrested . . .’ Jane’s voice tailed off as the significance hit home. There was no need to put what she was thinking into words. Deliberately or otherwise, there had been a leak. Someone had fed the gang vital intel on an ongoing operation.
Pete nodded. ‘Hence the need to keep this between us, at least for now. And I’m going to have to go to Silverstone with it. Meanwhile, all of you reach out. Tap up your CIs, see if you can get anything on these Armenians.’ He slapped his knees and sat up straight. ‘We might have had to hand the child-sex case off to London, but this one’s all ours.’
‘Shit or glory,’ said Dave.
‘Up to us to make sure it’s glory, then. Right?’
‘Steve Patton here. Fire investigator. Sorry it’s taken so long to get back to you, but I’ve been kind of busy.’
‘Hello,’ Pete replied. ‘No problem. Thanks for calling. What have you got?’
‘Nothing basically. The caller blocked his number.’
‘Oh.’ That sounded suspicious right off the bat.
‘Yeah, so all I can tell you is, it was a youngish-sounding male.’
‘Nothing distinctive in the background?’
‘Nope.’
Pete grimaced. ‘OK. You couldn’t send me over a copy of the tape, could you?’
‘I haven’t got it – the call centre have. But I can get them to do it, yeah.’
‘Great. Thanks, Steve.’
‘You got something, boss?’ Jane asked as he ended the call.
‘Nothing useful, no. Just, whoever called in the fire at Tyler’s didn’t leave their details and blocked their number when they made the call.’
She shrugged. ‘Maybe they just didn’t want to get involved further than doing their civic duty.’
‘Maybe.’ But, how many people would even think of blocking their number for reasons like that? Not many. And the fact that it was a ‘young-sounding male’, made it seem even more suspicious.
Pete put his phone away and headed for the DCI’s office.
*
‘Again?’ Silverstone put down his pen and sat back in his chair. ‘What is it this time, Detective Sergeant?’
‘I’ve got some bad news, sir.’
‘Strangely, I’m not surprised. What is it?’
‘Operation Natterjack, sir.’ The DCI’s pet project had been a huge force-wide synchronised series of raids designed to wipe a large proportion of the two counties’ drug dealers and pushers off the streets in one go. It was the reason that Pete had been recalled two weeks early from compassionate leave, to provide cover here in the station while the raids were carried out.
‘What about it?’
‘There was a comprehensive and glaring omission from it, sir. I’ve been speaking to a CI I developed recently and to the governor of the city jail and it seems that there were no arrests at all amongst the Armenian community, yet there definitely should have been.’
‘Explain.’ Silverstone’s dark eyes turned cold as he sat forward, hands clasped on his desk.
Pete quickly laid out the facts.
‘And, what does Jim have to say about this?’
DS Jim Hancock was the local drugs expert and the man who had originally arrested Steven Lockwood for possession with intent to supply Class A drugs.
‘I haven’t spoken to him, sir. In the circumstances, I thought it best to bring this straight to you, as someone who definitely doesn’t have an axe to grind.’
Silverstone’s eyes widened. ‘You’re
