CHAPTER 23
Late Spring saw Rhod walking, after a fashion, and myself back at work, which was both a delight and a pain. A delight and a pain in both cases, I should add, for while my boy was most definitely becoming his own person, his new-found mobility was a mixed blessing indeed.

I had never lived with a cat before, so I had been most attentive when Blake had talked me through Cat Defence for Beginners.

“They love to push things, love. Patch of sunlight to lie in, and they’ll clear it. Best china out for a posh meal? You’ll find it on the floor. Fritz likes to watch the world from the windowsill, so we leave it clear of anything breakable”

He had laughed before explaining how cats had actually disproved the nonsense about a flat Earth.

“If it was really flat, the little sods would have pushed everything off the edge by now”

It was rather like that with our son, because while his reach might not match his grasp, when it came to things on dining tables his grasp could most certainly reach a table cloth and, by extension, anything and everything on it.

Mam did so much for us then, looking after the little one when we were both back on the treadmill. I realised how important extended families were, and while ours only extended to my parents I ended up with a little swarm of babysitters as half of Deb’s household joined the roster.

These were, after all, people that I trusted now, implicitly. It wasn’t girliness with them, not a case of real-life dolly games, but something deeper. Gemma and Tiff in particular seemed to melt when they held him, and visits from the Powells were almost painful in the obvious need seeping from the pores of both women.

Two welcome developments were linked, as Rhodri Adam Sutton moved from milk to solid food and as a result from Almighty Stench to potty time. Our nostrils sent up prayers of gratitude. I know that Tiff did a lot of the coaxing for his potty training, and I know exactly what her motivation was. That time in the coffee shop had clearly left scars.

My first day back, I walked into the office to find it decorated with banners welcoming me back, a round of hugs briefly given and strict instructions to “Take one of the unmarked ones and get over to Gemma’s, woman!”

I was halfway to our little key cupboard when Sammy called after me.

“Oh, sit down, you silly woman! Candice, they’re in the stationery cupboard”

Familiar boxes with some of Gem’s specialities, and one cake, iced with a simple message: welcome home Di.

I will admit I got a little weepy, and as ever the Office Blonde was there with comforting arms and a tissue, while Alun made some sort of filthy joke which I will not repeat here. Suffice it to say it involved various ways of putting weight on, one of which involved a fight between calories and, er, vigorous horizontal exercise.

Sammy was right: I was home again.

“Got a small one for you, Di. Right up your street, I would say. Been a series of blags on bookies over to Swansea and Bridgend, and we need to filter the CCTV footage. Rob and Ellen have the discs collated, and Rhys and Jon have pulled as many of the street footage ones we can still find. Usual problem”

I grinned at my boss.

“Let me guess: street coverage deleted after so many days?”

“Yeah. Shops have kept theirs, of course. A blag’s a blag, and they want it for insurance and that. I know, boring stuff, isn’t it? I just wanted to let you find your feet steady like”

He knew me so well, and in the end it was almost like being back with the boys from my stint with CID. I found myself sinking into that old contemplative state, almost like a form of Zen meditation. I remember once speaking to someone about bird-watching, and they explained how they left their mind wandering, eyes almost out of focus as they let their ears and their peripheral vision pick up details their conscious mind might have missed. It was like that with the camera records, and after the first three days of ‘welcome home, stranger!’ I was back in that semi-awake state again as Jon and anyone else available, including the boss, kept me well-provided with tea and snacks. Home, indeed.

My toilet breaks were my sole moments of people-watching. Not actually people-watching in the toilets, of course, but as I settled back down to my work, I could take a few seconds to watch the other team members. Rhys and Jon were clearly past their beginnings, comfortable with each other and clearly so in front of their friends and colleagues. Alun just looked tired and as unkempt as ever, and I made a mental note to see how many of his nights were being spent in a certain Intelligence Officer’s little realm. I would give him ‘vigorous exercise’, the cheeky bastard.

Three days in, and another blag, and it was just like the others. Two men walk in, both with balaclavas on, one points what is clearly a firearm at the cashier. Wind back…

Yes. Both of the men looked directly at the camera, just a quick glance, but they clearly knew exactly where it was.

“Sammy?”

“Yes, mate?”

“Got something”

He had his nicer grin on as he joined me at the viewer.

“You never disappoint, girl. What you got?”

I wound the footage backwards and forwards.

“See? They aren’t looking for a camera, they are looking right at it, isn’t it? The shops got any earlier footage? Perhaps over the previous couple of days?”

“Ah! What is it the Septics call it? Casing the Joint?”

“Exactly. I’ll print off as much as I can of them from this, then we comb customers”

“Do that, and pass it to the fresh meat. Time you were off home to sonny boy. If we get anything this afternoon, I’ll give you a shout at home, if that’s OK?”

“As always, boss”

I packed up, switching my personality from ‘hard-faced copper’ to ‘Mummy dearest’ as I did so, and made my way home, where Mam was supervising a smiling Tiff in basic food preparation for infants and how to ensure it ended up being eaten rather than worn. I felt almost schizophrenic, in the popular sense, with two distinct personalities vying for primacy, but at the first squeal of ‘Mam!’ from my little man I was healed.

Not a word from Sammy that night, but when I returned in the morning I found Jon and Lexie leaving the office, eyes red-rimmed. They mumbled something as they walked out, and I gave Sammy the raised eyebrows.

“They pulled an all-nighter, girl”

“Whose bloody idea was that?”

“Theirs, actually. They’ve left us a case file. Have a look. Alun’s down with the LIO already”

I hoped he’d hidden his bedroll…

The file left by the two fresh meat was a bloody good one, for they hadn’t just looked at the single shop I had meditated over but followed up on three others. In each case, they had printed off stills of the armed blaggers, three of the shots showing what looked very like a sawn-off shotgun, but what were very obviously pictures of the same scum in the shop a day or two beforehand. Same clothes, same posture, standing at a fixed odds machine and looking over their shoulders directly at the cameras. Neck tattoos, one on two out of four hands. You little beauties.

Alun was back in an hour with two file cards and two more case files, each bearing a mugshot or six. He looked up at me and grinned.

“You taught that kid well, Di. Sammy?”

“Yeah?”

“How we playing this one? I think we really need to pass it on”

“What we got, mate?”

“Two shits from Pontyclun is what. Father and bloody son, no less. Keeping it a family game”

“Thought that was incest!”

“Na, that’s relatively boring”

Alun was kind enough to let the groans die down before he switched his professional head back on.

“Trevor and Leo Dollard, Cerdin Avenue. Sonny boy has form for robbery, ABH, possession of bladed article, affray, possession with intent Class A and B. usual driving stuff. Dad’s similar, ex squaddy. On nested bans for driving not in accordance with his licence, insurance, failing to provide a specimen and some old stuff from years back about threats to kill. Lovely boys”

On cue, everyone in the room came back with “Oh dear, how sad, never mind” and Alun just grinned, looking a lot more cheerful.

“So, mighty leader, who do we give this to?”

Sammy thought for a couple of seconds.

“I’ll have a word with Bev Williams, but I think, well, yeah. CID’s pigeon; let then do all the boring shit. Anyone want to go along when we wake them up with the big red key?”

What the hell.

“I would, boss, along with some of the fresh meat, if that’s OK?”

“Fine by me. Just remember this will be a firearms team lead and you are there to observe. CID need to do some work for a change. Rob, Ellen? Can you pull all this shit together with Alun and get us a package to hand over to the leather jacket crew? Rhys, take Jonny Boy for a drive-by; give us a picture of what we have. Entry and exit points, you know the score”

Two days of hard graft followed, as we pulled all the evidence together into a coherent whole and trawled through the footage again looking for more images of our two suspects. Finally, on a moist Sunday morning, I left my husband and son in bed after a brief but sharp disagreement about sticking my neck out, and with a double espresso dumped into a latte I joined the others for a briefing. Numbers, addresses, satellite pic of the street, and still just barely light outside.

Our convoy out to the house left me thinking of that day with Chris in a van, the smell of the CS and the sound of broken glass under my feet. Not this time, though. The forced entry and firearms team would do that bit, CID the paperwork and evidence tagging. I looked round in my seat, catching Lexie’s and Jon’s attention.

“Stay well back, mates. Let those lads do their bit, keep out of the way of CID. Observers this time, right?”

They both nodded, and we pulled up in Castan Road. Two firearms officers made their way down the alley behind the back gardens as the rest of us trotted round the corner. My radio earpiece caught the skipper’s terse “GO! GO! GO!” and three of the entry team took the door, two pushing it in at top and bottom while the third swung the Big Red Key at the lock. It took four blows before the sodding thing went in, and as the officer doing the ramming stepped aside, his colleagues went in hard and fast.

“ARMED POLICE! SHOW YOURSELVES!”

The radio calls came in quickly.

“Ground floor clear!”

“Back bedroom, one detained!”

“Front bedroom, two detained!”

The CID lads went in next, the three of us following, as the call came from the entry team.

“House secure, but you will want to look in the loft, lads!”

The house was a tip, two of the downstairs windows in the rear boarded up, recently from the look of things. We stood in the living room, trying to keep out of the way as a firearms-trained spaniel did his thing, and as he moved upstairs we happily ‘observed’ as our colleagues did all the heavy lifting and listing. I could get used to this, I thought.

A second dog disappeared upstairs with its handler, and as we followed it we met Alun’s old boss coming down the stairs, grinning happily.

“Hiya, Di! You’ll love this!”

“What we got, sir?”

“Harry, girl. We have Dad and Lad locked up, along with the son’s squeeze. Looks like they were not that well-acquainted before last night, but found the path of true love lying before them---"

“Cut to the bloody chase, Harry!”

He grinned happily.

“Bloody good job she was with him. Weapon was under her side of the bed, and he was climbing over her when we came in. Could have been nasty without her in the way. Sawn-off, as we thought, and loaded. Sword by Dad’s bedside, home-made spear and a baseball bat by the bedroom door”

He snorted just then, snorted in an attempt to hold back his laughter.

“Attic’s the thing, Di. Got a farm up there. About fifty plants, looks like”

Jon and Lexie looked at each other, and Lexie asked the obvious question.

“What the buggery bollocks are they doing armed robbery for if they’re farming cannabis?”

The DI wrestled his laughter back down to a safe state.

“That’s the thing, girl. Those windows downstairs? With the boards over? This is, or would have been, their second crop. The first one got ripped off by another firm! They couldn’t afford to replace the lamps and fans and shit, and so…”

We were chuckling all the way back to the Central nick. It was a good result. Two armed robbers, a firearm, multiple other weapons and a cannabis farm.

And nobody hurt.