A/N: I still don't own Ashes to Ashes… you know how it goes.
Many thanks to my faithful readers and reviewers, and (once again) many apologies for the delay in posting this chapter. I have encountered a variety of distractions, including work (yes, that old thing), music reviews, and a trip to Manchester to visit LOM locations and see the lovely Dean Andrews in "That Day We Sang".
One more chapter to go after this one (I think – I hope it isn't more), but I haven't written much of it yet. This story is turning out a lot longer than I expected. At this rate I might post the final chapter in time for NEXT Christmas!
If you like it, you know where the review button is…
With a half dozen kids still to go, and having endured heartbreaking stories from nearly all of them, Gene felt as wrung out as a City shirt in the wash after a match day. The next child was a little boy who hesitated on the edge of the dais as though poised for flight and shrank back when Gene held out his hand.
"Hey, no call to be scared, son. Come to Santa. What d'you want for Christmas, eh?"
The boy looked all about him with hunted eyes as though dreading that the very walls would guess his secret. "Can I whisper?" he whispered.
"Come again?"
"C-can I whisper?"
"Sure you can." He hauled the child onto his lap and the kid whispered into his ear, "Please, Santa, can you stop people throwing stones at our house?"
Gene settled the kid onto his lap and looked at him very seriously. I can smell a case here. "Now what the 'ell - what would they do that for?"
"I don't know." The kid was crying. "They came every night. They shouted that my Dad was a tray - tray - "
"Traitor?" Gene suggested.
"Y-yes," the boy hiccupped. "What is that?"
"It's a naughty word an' they shouldn't 'ave used it," he said reassuringly.
"We've had to run away from home," the boy whispered.
"What's your name, son?"
"Adam O'Neill. I'm seven."
Gene's gut instinct was standing up and screaming. Patrick O'Neill. He was hitman of choice for Dermot Leary's gang until he turned snout to inform on Leary's brother for raping his sister-in-law. We'd heard that Leary had made London too hot for him and he'd gone back to Belfast, but has he simply gone underground and waited for a chance to get back into Leary's good books?
If Leary hasn't sent him here to look for Judders, I'll have my reindeer for dinner.
For a moment he had forgotten the boy on his lap, who was looking up at him, puzzled. He quickly resumed his Santa persona.
"So, your Mam an' Dad, they're 'ere, are they?"
"Mummy's there." The boy pointed out a woman in the crowd, and Gene waved cheerily to her. "Daddy was here, but he's gone away."
That's hardly surprising. The bastard brings his wife and son in as cover and then leaves them in a place of safety while he carries out his dirty work. Gene was desperate to get out and look for him, but he knew that if Santa bolted before seeing all the children, it would blow his cover. Nothing for it. He would have to process the rest in double quick time.
"Look, I'll 'ave a word about the nasty people for you, an 'ere's a present from Santa." He pressed a blue-wrapped parcel, which felt like a colouring book and pencils, into the boy's hand. "Nice meeting you, Adam. NEXT!"
-oO0Oo-
Judd looked straight at Alex. "Why are you offering to do this for me? For us?"
"Because contrary to popular belief, we care. I care. This isn't just about arresting you and obtaining information. I know how dangerous the situation is for you and your family, and I can't just arrest you and abandon them to their fate. Believe me. I have a daughter myself, and I haven't been able to see her for so long that it breaks my heart. But I have to hope that she is safer where she is, than she would be here with me. That is why I want to do this to protect your daughter and your wife."
"That isn't Hunt's style," Judd said suspiciously.
The corner of Alex's mouth crooked. "He doesn't know yet that I'm doing this."
"I thought so. Making promises you can't deliver."
"By the time he does, the decision will be out of his hands. I've involved the Head of Witness Protection and she has agreed my proposals. She is currently interrupting her Christmas celebrations to arrange safe accommodation for your wife and daughter in the event that you accept my offer."
"Please, Mike," his wife pleaded. "Do as she says. Don't get us all into any further trouble. At least this way, you'd know that Megan and I are safe. You'd be looked after in jail. And when you're released, I know that you'll find us again. I'll find a way."
Alex very much doubted that last. If Mrs Judd were ever to breach the strict conditions of her witness protection, the consequences could be terrible. Judd almost certainly realised that. He looked Alex straight in the eye.
"I still don't know whether I can trust you."
-oO0Oo-
Dealing with the remaining children quickly was more difficult than Gene had anticipated. With four kids left to go, he was saddled with an inquisitive little tyke who received a present and demanded, "Where are your reindeer?"
"Eh?"
"Where are your reindeer? Are they on the roof?"
"No, no, wouldn't leave 'em up there where anyone could see 'em."
"Where are they, then?"
Gene had to improvise. "Well, er, you know that patch of grass behind this building?"
"No."
"Well, they're there."
"Don't know it."
"Well, that's where they are." Gene was sweating so much that he thought his beard might slide off.
"Can I see them?"
"No, we'll be off soon as I've finished 'ere. Lots more calls today. Merry Christmas, David. NEXT!"
The next two kids were meek enough and gave him little trouble, but as soon as the last danced towards him he knew that she would be a handful. A little fair-haired charmer all in pink who launched herself into his lap, flung her arms around his neck, and cried, "Hello, Santa!"
Gene managed to absorb the onslaught. "Hello to you too, love. Merry Christmas. What'd you like from Santa, than?"
She snuggled into his arms. "I want Daddy to stay for ever an' ever and never, never go away again."
His spine prickled. "What's your name, sweetheart?"
"Megan Judd."
His suspicion was confirmed. Judders is in the building. His wife must be here too. They won't move anywhere until their daughter comes back. Must be why Lady Joan's been holding onto her, I saw them playing together earlier. Drake's looking for the Judds, maybe she's found them. But what if O'Neill finds them first?
"Right, Megan. Let's see what we can do. Is your Dad 'ere?"
"He's with Mummy. A nice lady came and took me to see you."
"Right, love. 'Ere's a present from Santa, and off you go back to the nice lady. In a few minutes a very 'andsome bloke's goin' to come to talk to you an' 'er, an' 'e'll 'ave a word with your Dad. That OK?"
"Oh, thank you, Santa!" She flung her arms around his neck and kissed him. He lifted her down carefully and she toddled back to Lady Joan. His conscience gnawed at him, knowing that, far from keeping her father with her forever, he would be separating them for a long, long time. He comforted himself with the knowledge that Judd would be a bloody sight safer in the Scrubs or Pentonville than at the mercy of Leary and his merry men.
"Now, boys and girls, let's all wave Father Christmas goodbye and sing Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer!" Lady Joan boomed. The play area erupted with cheering, and Gene gratefully picked up his much-depleted sack and stumped towards the exit, waving as he went. He spotted Lady Joan signalling to a side exit, which he presumed would allow him a more private getaway, and headed for it. On the way, he saw her handing Megan to one of her helpers, obviously with orders to take charge, and slipping out ahead of him.
Their exit took them out of a door in one corner of the assembly hall and into a corridor beyond. The noise that the children were making would cover anything they said.
"The girl in pink - " Lady Joan began.
"I know. Megan Judd." Gene dumped his sack on the ground and reached under his robe for his gun.
"It's all right," she said soothingly. "Alex has spotted her parents and she's gone to make a phone call."
"Backup. She's bein' sensible for once." Gene at last extracted his gun and broke it open to check for ammunition.
"Oh, no, you don't wave that thing in here. The Judds won't move without Megan. I've told Veronica, one of my helpers, to keep hold of her and to keep the children busy with a singsong until dinner's ready. Alex and I have everything under control."
Gene closed the gun with a snap. "No, you 'aven't. The kid sixth from last is the son of Dermot Leary's 'itman. An' 'is dad's 'ere, lookin' for Judders."
Lady Joan paled. "Oh, shit."
"How do I get back to the assembly 'all without goin' past the kids?"
"Round here." She pointed, and he set off at a run with her in hot pursuit. They had just reached the doorway of the hall when a child's cry rooted them to the spot.
"MUMMY!"
Megan was in the centre of the hall, in the grip of a wolf-faced, black-haired man who held a gun to her head and was trying to drag her away. Alex and the Judds had emerged from the cubicle, and she was desperately trying to hold Judd back. She was white-faced and looked as though her worst nightmare had returned to haunt her, but was controlling herself with a visible effort.
"Keep still, you little bitch!" the gunman snarled to Megan. He had a broad Irish accent.
"Let me get to her!" Judd bellowed at the same time.
"Let 'er go!" Gene roared. Unnoticed in the hubbub, Lady Joan edged away from him. Fortunately the children were making too much noise in the play area for anyone there to hear what was happening, but people emerged from several other cubicles, saw the gun, and retreated in terror.
"Please, everyone, keep calm," Alex begged. The gunman pressed the muzzle of his pistol into Megan's temple, and she whimpered.
Alex stepped forward, careful to shield the Judds. "I'm a police officer. I'm trained in negotiation. Give me the gun, please. Gently does it - "
"The only negotiating I want to do is with Mikey there," the gunman snapped. "Keep back or I'll blow the little bitch's head off."
All the fight went out of Judd. "I'll do anything you want," he muttered brokenly. "Only don't hurt her, please don't hurt her..."
"That depends on what you do," the gunman retorted. "She comes with me now, and we'll be in touch. We'll want information from you, Mikey-boy. Lots of it. If you tell us everything we want to know, then you might see her again, but only when every account's been emptied. And if you lie to us, or the money's not there, we'll send 'er back in pieces!"
Mrs Judd made a terrible wailing sound. Megan was crying, loudly and hopelessly.
"Bastard!" Gene raced into the fray, gun in hand, robes swirling. "You 'arm a single 'air on 'er 'ead an' I'll kill you!"
Megan looked up. "Santa..." she whispered faintly, her eyes fixed on her hero. Judd registered his presence and his lips shaped the word "Hunt?"
"Holy Mary, it's a pistol-packing Santa now!" the gunman snorted. "Bugger off, you fraud. I know you won't fire while I've got a gun to her head - "
While he was in full flow, a well-manicured finger reached out and pressed a sensitive place on the back of his neck. He buckled, and a hand grabbed his gun arm, forcing the weapon up. Gene dived forward beneath the wavering muzzle to pull Megan clear and she subsided, sobbing, into his arms.
Lady Joan gave the villain a sharp blow to the neck, let him fall to the ground, out cold, and picked up his gun with her handkerchief.
"Good job I attended those self-defence classes we held at St Mungo's in October," she remarked conversationally as she held out the gun to a stunned Alex. "The instructor taught me how to go for the vagus nerve."
Megan wept out her terror in Gene's arms. "Santa, you saved me..."
"There, there, sweetheart," he murmured comfortingly, "the nasty man's gone. Just a nasty bastard who doesn't like Christmas. You won't see 'im ever again."
Judd turned to Alex. "Yes."
"Yes?"
"Yes, I'll accept your offer. Yes, we'll come with you. I know I can trust you now. You and your, er, Santa have just risked your lives for Megan. It's the only way my family can be safe."
Gene looked up. "What offer?"
"We'll explain later, Santa," Alex said hurriedly. "I've read Mr Judd his rights and he, ah, knows the situation. Lady Joan, can they wait in your office while we organise a squad car?"
"I thought you'd already phoned for backup?" Gene grumbled.
"I'm backup," Lady Joan said severely. "Or didn't you realise? Of course they can, Alex. We're just about to ring the bell for dinner, I'll have some sent in for them."
"Right. Yours, I think." Gene rose, still holding his gun and with Megan in his arms, and was about to hand her to Judd when another gunman burst in. This one was Chinese, and he made no move towards the group but braced his feet apart and aimed his gun at Judd.
"Mister Judd, you come with me!" he intoned.
"Bloody 'ell, now it's the Tong! E's not goin' anywhere, Chinky, except with us."
"Mister Judd, you come with me," the gunman repeated, the faintest trace of uncertainty beginning to show behind his inscrutability. Clearly he had not expected to have to deal with any resistance.
"Which gang are you from, then?" Gene demanded. "Sammo Fong's in Rupert Court?"
Alex stepped forward. "We're police officers. Give me the gun, please."
"Mister Judd, you come with me," the gunman repeated again.
Gene regarded him thoughtfully. "Bols, d'you get the impression that's the only English 'e knows?"
"Mister Judd, you come with me!"
"Stuck record time, innit? Hold 'er for me, love." Gene handed Megan to the trembling Mrs Judd and, in the same movement, flourished his gun and shot the pistol from the Chinaman's hand. He stood, shocked, while Megan howled in renewed terror, and Alex took advantage of his hesitation to jump forward and give him the full power of her left hook. He dropped like a stone.
The air was filled with the sound of children screaming. Lady Joan hissed to Gene "Put that gun away!" and rushed over to the entrance to the play area, placing herself so that nobody could see Santa with a smoking pistol. Megan, her face hidden in her mother's shoulder, was fortunately beyond noticing.
"It's all right, dears!" She clapped her hands for silence. "A nice person gave your mummies and daddies a lovely bottle of champagne for their Christmas dinner. Only I opened it too early and it went off BANG!" She clapped her hands to illustrate. "BANG! Now, what does champagne do?"
"BANG!" the children chorussed.
"That's RIGHT! Now, who knows Merry Christmas, Everybody?"
The children started on another song and a helper came out to speak to her.
"Thank God you're here, my Lady. That little girl you told me to mind has vanished. I turned away for a moment to break up a fight between two boys and she ran off. I don't know where to look and I didn't know where you'd gone, to tell you."
"It's all right, Veronica, though it might not have been," Lady Joan said quietly. "All's well that ends well. Keep the children occupied in there until I give the all clear."
"Yes, my lady." Veronica returned to the play area.
People were cautiously emerging from the cubicles to see the two unconscious villains, with Father Christmas fishing two pairs of handcuffs from the depths of his robe, tossing one to Alex, and kneeling on O'Neill to cuff him.
"It's all right, ladies and gentlemen," Alex said reassuringly. "I'm a police officer. These two men appeared to be involved in some sort of gangland quarrel and a little girl was taken hostage, but we've arrested them and will take them to our station to charge them. Move away, there's nothing to see."
"You can be taking your places in the refectory," Lady Joan added, bustling up. "We'll be ringing the bell for dinner any minute."
Exchanging surprised glances, the occupants of the cubicles moved to the exit. Gene rose to his feet and dusted his hands.
"Right. Two little pressies for Santa. Sod keeping the Judds 'ere while we wait for a squad car, we're taking 'em in the Quattro. Don't know 'ow many more bastards might come creepin' out of the woodwork. Bols, radio for a squad car to take these two back to the station." Alex nodded, reached for her radio, switched it on, and turned away to talk as the signal came through. "Sorry, m'lady, we'll 'ave to go."
"Understood," Lady Joan said gravely. "Thank you for all your help today, Father Christmas. Won't you need to get your friend Mr Hunt?"
Gene had all but forgotten his cunning disguise. "Er, sure thing, m'lady. Back soon. Er, ho-ho-ho."
He raced out through the passageway, robes swirling. Alex checked that the two gunmen were still out cold and shackled their ankles with her own handcuffs, thanking Heaven that she and Gene had had the foresight to bring two pairs each.
"You can leave these two with me, dear," Lady Joan said briskly. "I know you have to give priority to getting the family away. I'll stand guard until the police car arrives, it shouldn't be long."
"Thank you, my Lady." Alex rose to her feet. "I'm sorry that we have to leave you in the lurch like this."
"Not at all. You've found what you came for. Maybe you can come back another day to make up," Lady Joan added meaningfully.
"Well, I did say I'd come tomorrow," Alex admitted, "but - "
"I know. You'll both have a lot to do, now."
In the meantime the Judds had been soothing the distraught Megan. She looked up, hiccupping.
"Where's Santa?"
"He's had to go, darling," Judd said gently. "He's got to see lots of other children today."
"H-he gave me this dolly." Megan held out a dark-haired doll, dressed in a white jacket and jeans. "I was c-coming to show you when that m-man - "
"I know, dear. It's all right. You'll never see him again."
"Now we've got a big treat for you for Christmas!" Mrs Judd forced a bright smile onto her sad face. "You're going to see a real police station!"
"Yes." Alex joined them, smiling encouragingly. "I'm a policewoman. My name's Alex Drake. We're going to show you where we work and what we do. People don't usually see that. It's very special. And you're going to have a ride in the most splendid red car in the world! Come with me, and I'll show you." She was desperate to get the family to a place of safety before any more gang members came across them, but was deeply conscious that she had to speak to Gene as soon as possible, out of their earshot. At the same time she could not risk leaving them alone. Her dilemma was solved as four plods walked in.
"Ma'am," their leader said respectfully.
"Two gunmen here. Both attempted kidnappings. Take them back to Fenchurch East and get Skip to put them in the cells. Get the medics to check them over. My Guv and I will be along to interview them later. Skip's to get lawyers if they ask for them. That one's Chinese and doesn't appear to know much English. We'll need an interpreter. Tell whoever's on duty to get one. Probably for tomorrow now."
"Roger that, Ma'am."
While the plod busied themselves with hauling the inert felons out, Alex turned to Lady Joan. "My Lady, I'm sorry to ask one more favour of you, but if I take the family to your office, can you please keep an eye on them while I have a word with the Guv?"
"Of course I will, my dear. Take your time."
Alex approached the Judds. "Come with us, please. You can wait in Lady Joan's office."
She led them out, with the Judds following and Mrs Judd carrying Megan in her arms. After a quick word with Veronica, Lady Joan followed, bringing up the rear. Judd came forward to be level with Alex and muttered to her, "Why aren't you arresting me?"
"You are under arrest. Don't you remember?"
"Where are the cuffs then?"
"You've said that you'll co-operate with us. Your parole, if you will. I won't treat you as a prisoner while your daughter's here. Let her keep her illusions."
"Thank you," he muttered fervently, and dropped back beside his wife.
Leaving them with Lady Joan in Room 3, Alex jogged off to Room 20 and walked in without knocking. Gene stood in front of the mirror, blasphemously trying to remove his wig and beard. Seeing Alex arrive did not lengthen his temper.
"Bloody 'ell, Drake, when'll you learn to knock? Trying to get lucky an' catch me in my pink skin?"
"Don't flatter yourself, Guv," she said acidly. "Having trouble?"
"Gene Hunt never 'as trouble," he lied, giving the beard another tug and wincing with pain.
"Good Heavens, if you try to get it off like that you'll take your skin with it. Haven't you tried using spirit gum remover?"
"Eh?"
"Lady Joan must have left some here." Alex rummaged in the make-up box on the table. "Ah, this is it." She tore off a piece of cotton wool and moistened it well with the remover. "Hold still."
She gently dabbed it along his hairline and then along his jawline and upper lip. They were so close that she could feel his warm breath fanning her hand and the heat of his skin beneath her fingertips. Trying not to tremble, she saw him close his eyes as she touched him, and tried, unsuccessfully, to tell herself that he was only trying to stop her getting the remover in his eyes. She gently removed the beard, feeling the roughness of his stubble against her hands, and then lifted the wig away.
"There. All done." She sounded unnecessarily brisk as she tried to conceal how much the episode had affected her. "Better wipe your face well, that stuff has a very drying effect."
"An' 'ow do you know about stickin' beards on?" he grumbled, reaching for a damp towel. She noticed that he had not thanked her.
"Not beards. Wigs. When I've been undercover."
"Oh. An' did you just come in 'ere to tamper with my crepe 'air?"
"No, Guv. I need to explain something before we take the Judds to the station."
"Is this about your offer?" Suspicion hung over him like a pall.
"Yes. I had to take some unilateral action while you were otherwise occupied."
"What?"
Alex took a deep breath. "Nicking Judd isn't going to help us half so much if he isn't prepared to talk. And what's just happened has demonstrated that if we nicked him but left his wife and daughter unprotected, they'll be an easy prey for gangs who could use them to blackmail him into keeping his mouth shut."
"So?"
"I couldn't ask your approval for this because you were in the middle of your Santa stint and if I'd approached you it would have blown your cover."
"What. Have. You. Done?"
"I've arranged for Mrs Judd and Megan to go into witness protection."
"WHAT?"
"I offered it to Judd as a package. He comes quietly and gives us all his information on Neary's accounts and financial operations, and the police will protect his wife and daughter. The wife might even be a witness, if she had any idea at all what he was up to. I fixed it all up with DCI Bishop, the head of City of London Police witness protection, she's covering for the Met over the holiday period. She's arranging everything right now, and I'm to phone her once we've got the Judds to the station. I'm sorry I had to go above your head, but there just wasn't time to wait until I could talk to you."
Gene's face had gone a ripe puce which formed a lovely contrast to his golden hair. "Judd is a criminal! You don't go to 'im cap in 'and with offers! You nick 'im!"
"And if I had, and abandoned his wife and child to their fate, that Irish gunman would have got them by now. What would have happened to them then?" Alex said impressively. "I was concerned that if I nicked Judd, he'd have tried to bolt. That would have brought the gunmen down on our heads all the sooner, before you were ready to rush to our rescue. There could have been a shootout, with all those children nearby. It seemed the only thing to do. And it has secured us Judd's full co-operation."
Gene scowled. "Come on, then."
"To do what?"
"To get the Judds back to the station an' 'and 'is womenfolk over to DCI Bishop, you mad mare!"
Alex's heart sang. She knew that his words were the nearest he would ever get to saying that he approved what she had done.
"Thank you, Guv. So much. Can you just do one other thing for me?"
"Depends what it is."
"Megan may not see her father again for years, if ever. Please, let's make their last day together a happy one for her. We've told her that she's being taken to see the station as a special treat. Let him stay with his family and treat him like a visitor until DCI Bishop arrives to take her and her mother away. We can interview him when they're gone."
"You must think I'm going soft in the 'ead in my old age!"
"Please, Guv." She assumed her most winsome persona. "Christmas present? For being a good girl and catching a bad boy?"
"I'd much rather you were a bad girl."
"I'll be bad enough to throw a bottle of single malt and dinner at Luigi's tomorrow night into the deal."
"Oh, no, you don't buy me that way."
She looked deep into the silvery blue oceans of his eyes. "I remember how kind you were to Alex Price last month when her world was blown apart. I know you won't blow another little girl's world apart. Not on Christmas Day."
Gene blushed and looked at the ground. "Yeah, well... Come on, Drake."
He grabbed his leather jacket and swept out with Alex in hot pursuit, and blew into Room 3 like a whirlwind. Lady Joan, who had been playing with Megan, stood and stepped forward. "Ah, Mr Hunt. We've just been telling Megan how we're going to show her the police station as a special treat."
Gene approached. " 'Ello, little lady. What's up?"
Megan looked up at him with huge eyes. "Santa told me a handsome man would come to ask my Daddy to stay with me for ever and ever. Is that you?"
Gene crouched in front of her. "Well, am I 'andsome enough for you?"
"Oh, yes! Do you know Santa, then?"
"Yeah. Me an' 'im are like that." She was frowning. "Anything the matter?"
"You sound just like Santa."
Gene's face was impassive. "I'm good at voices."
"This is Detective Chief Inspector Gene Hunt," Alex said impressively. "He's a very important policeman. I work for him."
"Was it you who told the police to take the bad men away?" she said to him in a small voice.
"That's right, sweetheart, I told 'em to. Getting bad men is my job."
"And will you show me your station?" The awe in her voice made it sound like a fairytale palace.
"Yeah, sure I will. Your Mam an' Dad 'ave got to talk to this lady an' me for a bit about the bad men. Make sure we can lock 'em up so they can't 'urt you again."
"And will we have Christmas dinner there?"
"Er, well, we'll see what we can do. Come on, don't you want to see my car?"
Megan wiggled with excitement. "Yes!"
"Come on, then, it's out the front." He took her hand and led the way out, with the Judds following and Alex bringing up the rear, marvelling anew that this abrasive man could relate so well to children. There was a lump in her throat. His unexpected kindness to Megan reminded her again of how he had comforted and sustained the newly orphaned Alex Price.
The Quattro gleamed in the daylight as Gene led Megan up to it.
"So, what do you think?"
"It's beautiful!" Megan clapped her hands with delight.
"Right, you an' your Mam an' Dad get in the back, Drake's in the front, an' we'll be off."
They had loaded the car up and Gene was about to start it when Lady Joan came hurrying out with her arms full of foil containers. Alex wound her window down and Lady Joan passed her burden in.
"Thank you, my lady. What's this?"
"Five Christmas dinners. We're just starting ours, and I didn't want you to lose out. All guests and helpers are entitled to a meal. I got Michael in the kitchen to set these up for you. Heat them up when you get to the station and they should be fine."
"Oh, thank you!"
"Think nothing of it. Gene, we'll talk soon. Goodbye, all of you. A merry Christmas!"
They drove off with Lady Joan waving them goodbye. Martin Summers, who had been watching all the comings and goings from the entrance hall, pondered anew what he had learned.
That was Patrick O'Neill the cops were hauling out. Dermot Leary's man. And I heard Alex Drake saying on the phone that she was arresting Michael Judd. Simon Neary's banker. The man I saw being taken out with his wife and child.
Leary decided to rob the gold truck because he'd lost out on getting control of Judd. He'd have been the key to Neary's millions.
That means Operation Rose is set to go ahead here, just as it did in the real world. Can I stop it? Or uncover that Carnegie was behind it?
Nobody here knows yet that I'm a copper. I'm Irish, so it'll be easy for me to infiltrate an Irish gang. Lafferty hid the guns for Leary, Rivens was the muscle. There was his sister too. Pretty girl. What was her name, Janet?
I'll join the Lodge and get onside with Mackintosh and Carnegie, find out how they learned in the first place that Leary was planning to rob the gold truck. But that won't be enough for me to expose them.
I could have an ace in my sleeve. Alex Drake. If she's from the future, she'll know that the robbery happened. I want to stay here, but she must be desperate to get home. To her daughter Molly. I'll have to test her. If I find that she does come from 2008, I'll offer to send her home if she'll help me. But to do that, I know I'll have to pull her away from that DCI of hers. That'll be tricky. I can see already how closely they're tied together, tighter than either of them know.
I'll need an insider in their station. Someone I can corrupt.
Shouldn't be too hard. There's always one rotten apple in the barrel. Only this time, it won't be me.
TBC