Chapters (62)
- Title
- Copyright
- Contents
- About the Author
- About the Book
- Dedication
- Your Worst Nightmare
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- The Answer to All Your Prayers
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- Somebody Else’s Child
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- FORTY-FIVE
- FORTY-SIX
- FORTY-SEVEN
- FORTY-EIGHT
- FORTY-NINE
- Sunlight on Water
- July
- September
- Acknowledgements
It’s from a generic-sounding address – [email protected] – and it’s short. We have a range of products to suit a variety of tastes. Prices vary according to requirements. Please supply a phone number and a convenient time for us to call and discuss your needs. There’s no signature and no attachments, but it’s a reply. Whatever the status of the website, the Contact Us link is live. Now all they have to do is find out who’s on the other end.
Hagen forwards the email to Naylor without adding anything to it and texts her again.
Like Naylor said, progress at last.
THIRTY
THIRTY
4 September
It’s a while since Naylor’s been on shift this early, but this is an operation she couldn’t bear to miss. Hagen’s done the driving and she’s dozed some of the way, but she’s still grateful when he pulls into a twenty-four-hour petrol station and comes out with hot coffee. He offers her a chocolate croissant, but she declines.
‘Too early for me.’
‘It’s never too early for breakfast,’ says Hagen.
He eats his croissant and hers as they drive the last half-mile, and finds a place to park behind an unmarked police van.
Twenty minutes before first light, the birds are singing, pitting themselves against the background of traffic already running on the A12. She and Hagen join the group from the Essex force gathered in a residents’ parking area around the corner from Pentland View. They’re talking quietly but are fired up and raring to go. The operation’s commander is young and keen, checking one last time everyone knows where they should be, making it clear to Naylor and Hagen they’re bringing up the rear.
At ten to the hour, the signal’s given, and the team heads for the property, the tramp of boots heavy on the air. When they reach the house, those designated to cover the rear melt away, and Hagen and Naylor find a safe spot behind a neighbour’s car.
There are lights on in the house, and that makes the commander wary. He’d rather deal with a target still asleep.
The officer with the big red door key – the locker-room name for the battering ram – moves into position, and the commander raises his hand, glancing round to be sure everyone’s ready. Talking quietly into the microphone clipped to his flak vest, he receives confirmation they’re all set round the back.
He drops his hand and hammers on the door.
‘Police!’
The big red door key goes into play, pounding against the door to break the lock. A woman’s voice starts shrieking inside the house, and as the big red door key persists, the shrieking turns to shouting. In a couple of neighbouring houses, lights come on.
When the door slams back, men rush through it, pushing past Sheila Birch who’s wailing in the hallway.