CHAPTER 65
“St Nicholas’ church. May I help you?”

A woman’s voice, with a strong West Welsh accent. That would be the vicar’s other half then.

“Miriam Jenkins?”

“Speaking. Do I know you?”

“Diane Sutton. I was over at Christmas, with the Powells. With my husband and little boy”

“Would that be the very big man… Sorry. I sometimes fail to think properly before I speak. There are many big men in our circle. Was he the little one who slept with Elaine and Siân’s two? Um… Roderick?”

“Close! Rhodri. My husband and I, Blake that is, we are colleagues of Elaine’s, based in Cardiff”

“Yes! I remember you now. You were that very old friend of my cousin, am I correct?”

“That’s me. I have known Annie a long time”

“I suspect not, Diane. I suspect you have only known her a short while, as have we all. I also feel you have things to tell about Adam-as-was, no?”

I couldn’t help it and started laughing.

“Guilty! There I am, ringing up to ask a favour, and you have me bang to rights in ten seconds. Are you sure you don’t do my job?”

There was real warmth creeping into her voice.

“I know who you are now, my dear, and yes, Annie has spoken of you. You avoided a major error only by a narrow margin, I believe”

I knew immediately what she meant, and to my surprise I realised I was blushing at the memory.

“Um, yeah. Asking them out would have been… I think that the best description I can come up with is ‘complicated and confusing’, if you see what I mean”

“Oh, yes indeed. You made an impression on dear Eric as well, you know. I… When I first learned of Annie’s delivery from pretence, I was more than reassured by the discovery that she had true friends in England, people who loved and cared for her and stayed true to her throughout the horrors that she endured. I now know that she had others in our own country, just as strong. I thank you, Diane”

“Oh, no need for that!”

“There is always need to say thank you, my dear. Her son Darren is most insistent on that one! Anyway, on to a more pressing matter, and that is the reason for your call. My beloved is in the next room, so I will explain who you are, and then leave him with you”

Which is exactly what she did.

Four days later, I was sitting once more with an ever-scruffier Alun in an unmarked car in Merthyr, wondering if I could actually face another bacon roll from the usual source. Given the sleet slithering down the car’s windows, the answer was going to be in the affirmative. I was bored out of my skull, to be honest, as the lousy weather kept our targets indoors and out of sight, and there had been no vehicle movements in or off plot apart from the Yankpanzer belonging to what we assumed was the main man, one Ivor Geoghan. I was sinking deep into apathy when my mobile rang.

“DC Sutton”

“Ten days’ time, copper, on the Saturday night. Their own dogs will be there on the Monday”

Click. I searched for caller ID, but of course there was none, and whatever phone Wildcat Rosie had used would have been what they call a burner. Cheapest possible ‘pay as you go’, to be trashed immediately after the call.

Shit. I rang Sammy.

“Yes, Di?”

“Just got the word. Dogs come in this coming Monday and the event is the Saturday after, no word on timing”

“Right. Pull out now; I will call your relief. See you back here soon as. I take it this was ‘a spokesman did not say’ call?”

“Exactly”

“Right. I will get someone to do a snacks run. We are going to be busy”

I turned to my partner.

“Got the gist of that, mate? Sammy wants us back straight away”

He simply nodded, started the car and got us quickly onto the road back to Cardiff. I tried to bump start a conversation into life, but it wouldn’t take. He drove, silent and doing his best to look absorbed, but we moved reasonably smoothly, though the Valleys roads are never exactly accommodating for ‘making progress’, as my driving instructors called it. Alun took us down to Pontypridd, and then along Northern Avenue before we had a stop-start through the Centre. A quick buzz, and we were in the yard, then past Custody to our grandly-named ‘operations Centre’. The urn was already hot, and a selection of rolls, crisps and biscuits was awaiting our attention.

No Blake. Sammy caught my eye, shaking his head.

“I let him know, but left him to look after the lad. You can brief him yourself, mate. You are the first contact on this one, yet again. You’ll get a reputation, if you don’t watch out!”

The ride with silent Alun must have put me more out of sorts than I realised, and the words flew out of my mouth before I could stop them.

“Last bastards that got me a reputation are banged away with the rest of the nonces…”

Breathe. P, P.

“Sorry, Sammy. Bit tense with all this heating up”

“No problem, Di. Team here, aye? Anyway, most of us are. Let’s get the word from the horse’s, OK?”

Thank you, mate. He never failed to astonish me, and delight me, with his calm and clear-sightedness. As I dug myself back into my calm place, he pulled out a couple of flip chart stands, each showing a variety of maps and photos of the warehouse units we had spent to long targeting. Once they were arranged to his satisfaction, he stepped out in front of them.

“Not going to say ‘Boys and girls’ now, am I? Elaine Powell cornered the market in that one. Anyway, Di is going to give us the SP, and hint, hint, mate, start from the beginning. These charts: they are not to be left out unattended, not in line of sight from the door. That Evans case showed we had some insiders, and I don’t want to risk that one again. Di?”

“Um, right. Thanks, Sammy”

I turned toward the team. Breathe slowly, DC Sutton.

“You know what we’re looking into, so it’s sorry, Sammy, I won’t go that far back. Dog fighting is our main offence suspected here, but there will be a range of other crimes involved. Unlicensed drinking establishment, ditto betting, probably the usual mix of Class A and B drug use and probably supply. The animals themselves are highly likely to be in contravention of the dangerous dogs legislation, and that leads to warning number one: fighting dogs fight”

I cast a quick glance towards Lexie.

“No heroics with these animals. We will have dog handlers with us, as well as firearms officers. If the animals can’t be contained, they will be removed. Sorry again, Sammy, but I am making assumptions here. If I have it wrong?”

“Fine so far, mate”

“Ta. Their MO is a bit complicated. I am told the dogs fight better if they feel they are on their own ground, so the organisers bring their own charges down early to settle them into the place, make them feel at home. We need to keep a very light touch, just spot their arrival and pull out again”

Once more, I slowed my breathing. This was actually making me far more tense than had dragging arseholes from vans.

“We are now in receipt of very specific information regarding dates and times. The home team animals are due to arrive this coming Monday. The following Saturday is show time. That is all I am able to say safely. Sammy?”

He patted my shoulder as he stepped forward, the turned to the team.

“Thanks, Di. I have been taking advice on this one, and those with experience in this particular method of being antisocial bastards inform me that we are most likely looking at ten dogs max. Yes, Jon?”

My boy looked puzzled.

“Not trying to be a smartarse, and shut up Candice before you say anything, but ten doesn’t work. Four, eight, sixteen, that sort of thing. Like a football league, with heats, semis and so on?”

Our boss winced, his head shaking unconsciously until he caught himself doing it, and he then drew a couple of long, slow breaths of his own.

“I take your point, mate, but it isn’t like that. Sometimes, in what you might call the amateur game… No. I am not going to do it to you. I saw several packs of photos of what happens in these fights, happens to the dogs, that is. There are no heats, no semis, no grand final. The dogs are in no state for more after the first fight they are in. My turn to confess, and that is a simple one, that I have other sources of information. Need to know, but…”

He looked a little ill now.

“Dog fights rules, OK? The dogs go at each other till one turns away, and that’s the win. Both dogs get ripped about, but they can be treated. Torn ears, a few bites, messy as hell, but as soon as the losing dog literally turns tail, the winner’s owner pulls his dog off. What I have been told about our main suspect is that he is interested in, and is offering, rather more than that. Simply put, one dog goes under and the owners let it continue. Real fucking gladiator thumbs-down shit. That was what I saw in the pictures I do not wish to show you, and it leads us into our problem of balance. We have to let things go on long enough for it to deliver convictions. That means we are highly likely to find ourselves with some dead dogs. That is why, just this once, if anyone feels they can’t handle it, they can take a night off. No shame, no come-back. Anyone? Show a hand if so”

He waited ten seconds or so, as all our hands stayed down, then sighed with evident release and relief.

“Thanks, mates. You make an old copper proud. Ellen, please draft us a rota for static and mobile obs teams on Monday. Then all of you, off home. Briefing Monday morning at 0900 and then see what we pick up. Rest of the week, chill, file, make-work, whatever. I will sort the rest with Bev Williams and the other brass, so please get some you-time. I don’t want to see you during the rest of the week, but keep your phones on”