“Nothing, gran.” Stone was a little hurt that she thought something had to be up for him to visit, though he couldn’t blame her for thinking like that, given he had often only found the time to visit when there was something going on. “I just wanted to see you. It’s been a while.”
“Well, you had better come in.” Barbra stepped back.
Stone loosened his tie as he seated himself on the sofa and ran his eyes over his grandmother. Not only was she more slight than he remembered, she moved more slowly, and seemed to have difficulty with her breathing. The effort of crossing the living room exhausted her, and he worried that she was going to collapse before she got there.
“Are you okay?” he asked in a voice filled with worry.
“Yes,” Barbra dismissed his concern. “For someone my age, I’m as well as can be expected.”
Stone looked dubious, but knew it would do him no good to press her for another answer, she wasn’t the sort to complain, no matter how bad things were.
“Would you like a cup of tea?” she asked.
“Thanks, I’ll make it, though,” Stone said, getting to his feet quickly before she could. “One for you as well?”
When she nodded, Stone collected his gran’s cup from the table at the side of her chair. As he did, he saw the plastic tray that held more than half a dozen pills in a variety of colours - the sight worried him; he was sure his gran had only been taking one or two pills the last time he saw her. Since he knew his gran wouldn’t tell him what was up if he asked, he looked through the items pinned to the cork noticeboard he had put up in the kitchen when he got there.
In one corner of the board was a collection of bills, he flicked through them, and was relieved to see that none were outstanding. The opposite corner held prescriptions, repeat prescriptions to be put in every month he saw; his gran was taking fourteen pills a day – that came as a shock to him, and left him certain something was wrong with his grandmother. The noise from the kettle rose as the water approached boiling point, he ignored it, though, as he continued to check the board, stopping when he found a letter from the hospital.
He took the letter down and read it slowly, a cold feeling settling in the pit of his stomach. His fingers trembled as he returned the letter to the board and took out his phone. “Call me as soon as you get this,” he said, hoping that his sister would check her voicemails soon.
That call made, he put his phone away and washed his grandmother’s cup and saucer before finding a mug for himself so he could make the tea.
“Can I get you anything else?” he asked as he gave his grandmother her cup.
“No, thank you. I’ll have a few biscuits before I go to bed. I don’t eat much these days.”
Stone was tempted to admonish her about her eating, but there was something more important he needed to talk to her about. “I saw the letter from the hospital,” he said. “Why didn’t you call and tell me you’ve got cancer?” Reading the diagnosis in the letter had been like a blow to the stomach.
Barbra’s eyes rested on her grandson for several long seconds before she spoke. “I didn’t want to trouble you, you have so much to deal with already. Your family, little Robert’s condition, and your job - I saw in the paper about the armed robbery you’re investigating. How is Robert? Is he managing school okay with his condition?”
Stone recognised the diversion for what it was, but still answered the questions. “Robert is fine now, he had the operation I told you about last time I was here, and now he’s as fit and healthy as any other seven-year-old. It took him a bit of time to get over it, but now the hole in his heart’s been fixed, he’s been running Melissa ragged. I think he’s making up for lost time.”
“That’s good to hear. You both must be relieved not to have that worry hanging over your heads anymore.”
Stone nodded. “I’ll get Melissa to bring Robert and little Isobel over at the weekend. You’ll be amazed at the difference in Robert since you last saw him. If I can get my investigation finished by then, we’ll make a day of it.” He returned the conversation to where he wanted it then. “You still should have told me about the cancer. Melissa and I could have made more of an effort to come round and help you out; we should have.”
“I’ve been managing,” Barbra told him, though the effort it was for her to breathe gave the lie to that.” April checks on me whenever she’s home, and she’s arranged for one of those home helpers to come in every other day.”
“You shouldn’t have to just manage,” Stone told her guiltily.
10
When he got to work the next morning, following a restless night, Stone was glad to see that Burke was already there and he had the coffee machine going. Before he settled down with a cup to read the forensics report someone had put on his desk he checked in with DC Reid, who had the night duty – he was relieved to discover that only relatively minor crimes had been committed during the night, crimes that were already being investigated, and no guidance was needed from him.
Only when he had finished his coffee did he pick the report up. There was still a lot of material for the forensics team to process, but they were making progress; he saw that matches had been made on many of the partial fingerprints found in the pavilion – most of those matches were to David Leigh and his family and staff, but some were to people in the criminal database. Every one of them had to be checked out to determine if they were a possible suspect, and he made a note of each name.
A smile lit up Stone’s face as he approached the end of the fingerprints section.
“I take it you’ve got to the bit about Jerry Logan’s print,” Burke remarked when he saw the smile on his superior’s face.
“Yes.” Stone nodded. “It’s not conclusive, only a partial print, but it’s enough to bring him in for questioning, and to make a proper search of the flat.” He planned on bringing Ben Logan in for questioning when he brought his brother in, even though they had no evidence against him yet; he could not imagine that one of the Ice-cream Boys would have been involved in a robbery that netted so much money without including his brother.
Stone returned his attention to the report then.
*****
“It’s a coincidence, sir, nothing more,” Mason said, not in the least happy with the thought of having his investigation taken from him.
“Not according to this, Justin,” Collins said, gesturing to the report on his desk. “The forensic analysis shows a ninety-two percent match between the tyre prints found outside the pavilion at the festival and those at the scene of your hit-and-run. That’s enough to consider the two investigations linked.” He held up a hand to forestall whatever it was that Mason had opened his mouth to say. “It’s settled, sergeant; you will continue to investigate the hit-and-run but DI Stone will decide the direction your investigation takes, and you will make no arrests without his approval.
“I understand you’ve made progress with your case, Nathan.” Collins turned to his inspector. “Are you close to an arrest?”
Stone nodded, ignoring the venomous look he was being given by Mason. “Forensics found a partial print at the pavilion that matches what we have on record for Jerry Logan. It’s not conclusive, but with the witness statement that mentions the tattoo similar to Jerry’s new piece of ink, it’s enough to bring him in for questioning. I’m off to do that as soon as we’re finished here. I want to bring Ben Logan in as well.”
“Have you got any evidence against him?”
Stone shook his head. “Not yet, but there was two people involved in the robbery, and the Logan brothers pretty much always work together. If I can find enough evidence to get a conviction against Jerry, I should have enough to convict Ben as well.”
“Be careful when you question Ben Logan,” Collins cautioned. “You might be right about him being the second blagger, but without evidence you’re just fishing. You don’t want a solicitor putting a barrier between you and him that makes it difficult to investigate him.”
 
; “That shouldn’t be a problem, sir,” Stone said. “Both the Logan brothers are out on license, if they don’t behave themselves they’ll go straight back inside. Their solicitors will know that, and won’t want to do anything to cause them problems.” He knew that without hard evidence he would have to be careful while questioning his suspects, but not as careful as he would have to be if they weren’t on license.
“Do you want armed support when you bring the Logans in?” Collins asked. “If they are your blaggers then they’ve got sawn-off shotguns - they might not hesitate to use them if they think they’re about to go back to jail.”
Stone considered the question for a short while before shaking his head. “I’d like them on alert, sir, but I’d rather not have them with me. I doubt Ben and Jerry have the shotguns with them, they won’t want them found too easily, but if they do have the shotguns close to hand, the sight of an armed response team might create a situation we’d rather avoid.
“What I would like, is a few uniformed officers. I don’t really expect trouble, Ben and Jerry both know that resisting arrest will see them back inside, regardless of anything else, but just in case.”
*****
“Police, open up!” Stone yelled loudly, banging on the door of the Logan brothers’ flat for a second time.
“What?” Ben snapped the question before he even had the door fully open. “I shoulda known it’d be you,” he said when he saw who was on the doorstep. “What d’you and the goon squad want?” He eyed the constable with the ram contemptuously.
“We’ve got some questions for you and your brother, down at the station,” Stone told him. “Are you going to come quietly, or do we need to cuff you?”
Ben looked as if he would like nothing more than to resist arrest, but changed his mind when he saw Stone already had a pair of cuffs out, ready. “I wouldn’t want to give you the satisfaction,” he said.
Stone smiled. “I knew you’d be reasonable. Now, where’s Jerry?” he asked as he entered the flat so he could look for his other suspect. “Where is he, Ben?” he wanted to know, having found the rest of the flat empty.
“No idea,” Ben answered innocently. “He could be anywhere; you know what he’s like.”
“I do. No matter, we’ll find him,” Stone said indifferently. “By the way, I’ve got a warrant to search the flat.” He put the handcuffs away and took out the search warrant, which he waved in Ben’s face. “And the lock-up you’ve got downstairs.”
Ben eyed the warrant for a few seconds, annoyance on his face, and then he grinned. “Knock yourself out, you won’t find anything, other than some dirty laundry, and a few rusty tools and an old bike in the lock-up.”
“Take him away,” Stone directed the constables with him. He watched for a moment as two of the constables led Ben off, in case he was going to resist, and then he, Burke, and the other two constables made a start on searching the flat for anything that would connect the Logans with either the robbery or the hit-and-run.
11
Sighs of relief almost drowned the bell that signalled the end of the class, and the day. The loudest sigh came from next to her, and Alice Keating looked round to see her best friend, Julia Harris, already stuffing her things in her bag, eager to be gone.
“Is Ryan going to be there this afternoon?” Julia asked as the two of them left the classroom and headed down the corridor outside on their way to the exit.
“Your guess is as good as mine,” Alice said, bemused by her friend’s interest in her brother. “You know what he’s like; he’ll be around if he’s got nothing better to do and nowhere to be. I wouldn’t hold your breath on him noticing you this time, if he is around, though. Knowing him, he won’t even realise you’re there.”
“He’ll notice me this time,” Julia said, a wicked gleam in her eye. “I bought a new bikini at the weekend, it’s very sexy, I got it special for today. My parents’d ground me for a year if they saw it.”
Alice wondered how skimpy the new bikini was, the previous one had been skimpy enough, but didn’t ask, instead she said, “At least the weather’s good today, we can have the roof off the pool, and maybe get a bit of a tan.”
“Hopefully, Mrs Wembley will have something cold to drink,” Julia said. “I’m parched.”
“Good afternoon, Miss.”
“Hello, Brian,” Alice returned her chauffeur’s greeting.
Once both girls were settled and belted in, Brian Jacobs slid behind the wheel and started the engine so he could leave the school grounds. He was so focused on not missing his chance to merge with the traffic flowing past the drive, he didn’t notice the van that pulled away from the kerb and began following as he drove away from the school.
“Don’t get too close,” Jim instructed his heavily bearded partner.
Crash scowled at the unwanted advice. “I know what I’m doing,” he said, his attention on the traffic in front of him, and in particular on the Bentley that was further up the road. Seeing the Keatings’ car take a turn up ahead he hit the indicator so he could follow it around the corner. He followed the Bentley, without closing the gap between the two vehicles, as it took several turns and made its steady way through town towards the Keating home.
“Are you guys ready?” Crash asked of his partners in the back after about five minutes. Up ahead, the Bentley slowed as the lights at the crossing changed, and the moment the car stopped he pulled out from the line of traffic and gunned the engine to race up the road.
Brian was caught by surprise when the white van, which he had seen but paid no attention to, jumped the queue of traffic. Before he could react, it screeched to a halt next to the Bentley and the side door flew open.
“Kidnap!” he yelled the warning as two masked men jumped from the back of the van and reached for the rear door of the car. He was about half a second too slow in hitting the central door lock.
Alice knew, intellectually, that she was a potential target for kidnappers, she had never thought it would actually happen, though. The sight of the two dark-clothed and masked men leaping from the van froze her where she sat; it wasn’t until the rear door of the Bentley was yanked open that she recovered from her shock and regained the ability to move. She had her hand on the passenger side door when her ankle was grabbed.
Automatically, she kicked out and fought to get free. She writhed and twisted every which way as she desperately struggled to break the grip on her ankle. Slowly, inexorably, though, she was dragged through the car, despite her grabbing at everything within reach to stop what was happening.
Brian cursed himself for not having put the locks on before starting the engine and quickly released them again. He then took off his seatbelt and threw open the door next to him so he could get out. The moment he was on his feet he lunged for the figure that had hold of Alice, confident that his past as a Royal Marine would stand him in good stead in confronting the man trying to pull his charge from the car.
“Bloody help me,” Jim ordered his partner, who was standing uselessly at his side. He was not unused to fighting, and could generally hold his own, but he was hampered by the need to keep hold of Alice.
Unlike his partners, Lewis was not a fighter, and he had no intention of getting physical with the chauffeur, who was a more imposing figure than him. Instead he reached into the rear of the Bentley to take hold of Alice Keating’s flailing foot and help pull her from the car.
When he failed to break the grip the would-be kidnapper had on his charge, Brian changed tactics. He let go of the man’s arm and wrapped his own around his neck, putting him in a chokehold; once he was unconscious, Brian figured he would release Alice automatically. He had no sooner secured him in a headlock, however, when he was forced to let him go as a punch to the kidney sent pain shooting through his body.
Crash smashed a fist into the chauffeur’s kidney a second time, he then pulled him away from Jim and threw him into the side of the van. A kick to the back of the knee made Brian fall forward, and Crash sm
ashed his head into the side door of the van; twice more he did that until the chauffeur’s body went limp and blood ran down his face.
“Get on with it,” he snapped at his partners, who were still trying to drag Alice from the car. From the back pocket of Jim’s combat trousers, he took the envelope that was sticking out, which he shoved into the inside pocket of Brian Jacob’s jacket. That done, he returned to his previous position behind the wheel, where he revved the engine impatiently.
With two men pulling at her, Alice found it impossible to save herself, and with a final heave, she was yanked from the Bentley to land with a painful thud on the concrete.
12
Stone got the preliminaries out of the way and then got started on the interview with Ben Logan.
“As you’ve already been made aware, Mr Logan, we are investigating an armed robbery and a hit-and-run, two incidents we believe are linked – incidents we have reason to believe you were involved in. You’re currently out of prison on license, so perhaps you would like to take this opportunity to tell us everything, in which case things may go easier for you when it comes to sentencing.”
Ben grinned. “Whenever you guys say something like that, I know you ain’t got shit and you’re fishing. You’d think you’d learn. I’ve been behaving meself since I got out: signin’ on, lookin’ for working, checkin’ in with probation.”
“Acting like an idiot outside the Horse and Jockey,” Stone added. “You and your brother both. I suppose you know you could already be back inside, if your probation officer hadn’t given you a break, undeservedly, I’m sure.
“Where were you on Sunday night?” he asked.
“Depends what time you’re talkin’ ‘bout,” Ben said. “I were a few places on Sunday.”
“How about between half one and three in the morning. Where were you then?”
“At a mate’s place,” Ben replied after a brief hesitation. “Got there bit afta twelve. Picked up takeaways on the way from the pub, and by ‘bout half one we was all pretty much out o’ our heads. He had a coupla six packs in the fridge and some tequila - we finished them off while playin’ Call of Duty.”