In the squad room, a low hum filled the air as officers from Oxford and Chipping Norton nailed down the details of the plan to catch De Voe in the act. Davidson had not returned to the fold but had been left in Oxford working on the Mulhern murder. As predicted by Oaks, Davidson had not seen the light of day since being left behind and had been used as a desk-jockey, checking CCTV and cross-referencing case details on the HOLMES database. However, in a real turnup for the books, Davidson had proved to be exceptional at it. He’d developed a love of detail and was now another Bevan in the making. They were all proud of the youngest member of their team and Gifford even FaceTimed Davidson to tell him as much. Gifford wasn’t going to suddenly turn into a great leader of men, but he was now enjoying the new achievements of his team, realising at last that these weren’t new skills they were developing, but skills they’d always had that he’d never bothered to nurture before.

‘Right!’ Hearst got their attention at once. ‘Uniform has reported that a set of temporary traffic lights has gone up on the B4437, just south of Chilson, and another two sets have appeared on the London Road near the Ascott-under-Wychwood train station. These lights are nothing to do with the council. So, ladies and gentlemen, it seems we may have just discovered this gang’s route in and out. Emphasis on the word “may”. Let’s not take anything for granted. DI Gifford, if I divert six uniforms from the charity buffet, pop them into plain clothes and send them your way, can you get them up to speed, please? Deploy them in pairs to each traffic light location. Tell them not to approach any suspicious vehicle under any circumstances. This gang must be assumed to be armed and dangerous and I refuse to lose a single officer to them.’ She paused, and all eyes remained on her, alert to every word. No officer in the Chipping Norton team had ever known her to actually lead a briefing, but she certainly knew how to keep their attention. ‘De Voe remains under tight surveillance in London courtesy of DCI Ridley. Undercover officers have him in sight, his phone lines are tapped, and everyone who pauses for a second in his general vicinity is photographed and checked.’ She paused again. ‘We have this. We’re ready.’

*

Ridley leant over the back of Laura’s chair, looking at her computer screen. She could smell his faintly musky masculine scent and felt herself flushing. Ridley was reading a transcript from the last recorded phone call between Michael De Voe and Alberto Barro. Although neither man said anything in direct reference to what was about to happen in the Cotswolds, they did mention that, on completion of business, Alberto would get his usual ‘goodie bag’ with a little extra as a going away present.