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“You’ve been reading the papers, I can tell,” said Joa
“So you must have some names for me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Some of your regulars. And don’t tell me Operation Hawk has yielded no results so far. There’s organization involved here, Joa
“Fair enough. There’s a few people we’re keeping an eye on, though they’re hardly the ones who drive lorries up and down the motorways. We do liaise with the NCA, too, on a regular basis, as well as with other county forces.” The NCA was the National Crime Agency, what the media referred to as the British FBI, which had replaced the Serious Organised Crime Agency. They weren’t primarily concerned with rural crime, as was Operation Hawk, but they were interested in almost everything else except counterterrorism, which remained within the Met’s remit. Slowly but surely, the technology was catching up with the criminals. “The problem is,” Joa
“I see what you mean,” said Banks. “But if I give you the location of the hangar, and the closest access points to and from the A1, can you find out whether anyone’s been visiting the place regularly over the past year or so?”
“We keep the ANPR data for two years, so yes, we can do that. I don’t know about the actual location itself, but certainly the general area. Have you thought, though, Alan, that if some organization is using that corridor, as you suggest, then they’ll be smart enough to know about ANPR, and maybe even about Operation Hawk—it’s hardly a classified operation, after all. They could avoid detection by using different vehicles. Or different number plates. Or varying their route.”
“Surely even you lot can spot a false number plate?”
Joa
“I never have,” said Banks. “Not unless I’ve laid the groundwork for them.” He finished his pie and sipped some beer, then swirled the pale gold liquid in his glass. “If I’m thinking along the right lines,” he went on, “someone might have driven up on Sunday morning. At least that’s when one of our suspects received a text and left his flat in a hurry.”
“Or down,” said Joa
“Point taken. Or down. But one way or another we’re looking at placing a vehicle, or vehicles, at the abandoned airfield between, say, half past nine and ten o’clock, which means they would have come off the A1 about a mile from the village of Hallerby five minutes earlier. Or from the junction at Thirsk or Northallerton.”
“You’d be surprised how much data that involves, but I’d say we could probably do it, yes. Remember, though, we’re only interested in specific vehicles. We’ve got a definite location and a specific time frame. What exactly are you looking for?”
“In the first place, anyone on your list, any of your specific vehicles, anyone suspected of having even the remotest involvement in rural crime on a large scale being spotted at that place and time. Second, anyone you’ve been tracking for some time, anyone who seems to have made an inordinate number of trips up there for no apparent reason. Also, anyone with a criminal record of any kind, especially for violent offenses.”
“That latter request might be difficult,” Joa
Banks slipped out his notebook and gave her Michael Lane’s number plate. “It would help if we could know whether he’d been in the area or not, too,” he said. “And we’re tracking down another number, a large van used for removals. We think it may have been involved in the theft of the tractor.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” said Joa
“Everyone slips up sometime. And it’s just possible that someone might have been in a hurry. It looks as if there was a shooting at the hangar, Joa
TERRY GILCHRIST had just put his feet up for an hour’s reading before di
“Come in,” he said, standing aside and gesturing toward the living room.
“Hope I didn’t disturb anything,” she said. “I have a few more follow-up questions for you.”
“Not at all. Just having a sit-down.” She has an intriguing voice, he thought. At first he had hardly noticed it, as she appeared to speak unaccented English, but if he listened closely he could hear intermingled undertones of Jamaica and Yorkshire. It was a unique blend, and he’d challenge any actor, however skilled, to reproduce it.
She sat down gracefully, crossing her long legs. He noticed her glancing at his leg as he walked by and used his arms to lower himself back into the armchair.
“I suppose it could be worse,” she said. “I mean the leg. Worse things than ending up with a slight limp.” He got the impression from her awkward tone that he had embarrassed her by catching her looking at his disability.
“Much worse. The alternatives hardly bear thinking about. Believe it or not, I’m on the mend. The doctors assure me the stick will go completely soon, but they fear the limp will persist. I don’t mean to complain, but the devil of it is that I’m used to outdoors pursuits. I used to love long-distance ru
“Potholing?” Winsome said. “I used to do that.”
“Used to? What happened?”
“I got lost once, and the water was rising. I’m afraid I panicked a bit. It sort of put me off.”