Lee and Oaks left, Bevan entered, and the next half an hour was spent calmly talking her through what would be expected of her, if she agreed to go undercover with Mason.
Chapter 23
The charity buffet was a lavish affair which was to take place partly indoors and partly beneath a marquee. The aroma of hog-roast and barbecues filled the outdoor air whilst, indoors, the air was kept as ‘uncontaminated’ as possible for the vegetarians and vegans.
And everywhere, indoors and out, was wheelchair accessible. Barrowman might have been an arrogant man in his business life, but in his private life he was acutely sensitive to people’s diverse needs — his son had taught him that much.
Oaks, out of uniform, stood on a raised stage just outside the marquee, watching the relatively small crowd of around a hundred early-comers milling about the beer tent.
The stage was made up of sixteen blocks, normally arranged in an eight-by-two pattern in the church hall. Today they were in a two-layered four-by-two pattern, with stairs up the back, so that when Barrowman officially opened the charity buffet, he’d be visible above the three children selected from a local riding school entering on horseback.
Oaks had been relieved and disappointed in equal measure when Mason had taken the undercover job away from him. So Jack had put him front and centre at Barrowman’s event. In truth, Jack didn’t know if their gang would use this crowd as cover at all, but if there was a possibility, then they had to monitor it to keep the community safe.
If any one of the gang slipped through their hands, they could vanish into these crowds, never to be seen again. Thousands of strangers, gangs made up of people with no criminal record... one change of clothes and they’d disappear.
Beyond the hog-roasts and barbecues, dozens more marquees had been erected to act as shade for the horses. Several animals were already there, practising their jumps and getting used to the various noises they’d experience over the coming days: car horns, tannoy announcements, children screaming inside the fenced-off playground, and four local bands all revelling in their half hour of fame, twice a day, for four days.
In the main arena, Charlotte and Judas were cantering across the sawdust floor, kicking up a fine yellow spray as they went. To Jack, they looked wonderful. Judas was impressively tall and broad, with a powerful musculature that rippled beneath his immaculately groomed coat. For Charlotte to be in control of such a beast was deeply impressive, knowing that he’d come to trust her and surrender his independence. Their bond was clear to see. Jack watched, transfixed by Charlotte’s power and authority: how could this amazing woman control a beast such as Judas, but fall foul of a low-life such as Michael De Voe? Jack concluded that it had something to do with the fact that animals were incapable of treacherous, deceitful cruelty; whereas human beings were capable of that and more. Jack quickly left before Charlotte noticed him.
Beyond the marquees for the horses, the church hall had been temporarily converted into a police and ambulance base. This was what always happened during large-scale local events, so seeing numerous police officers, paramedics and first aiders coming and going wasn’t unusual. To all intents and purposes, this event had been organised like any other — and it had to be, because if this gang had been working the area, on and off, for the past three years, they could well have been around the annual equestrian event before. They would know what to expect, and would notice anything out of place.
The final area that Jack walked round was a field at the far end of the extensive site, away from the horses, that had been converted into a helicopter pad. This was something a little bit unusuaclass="underline" a helicopter from a flying school just south of Swindon had been privately hired at the last minute. Gifford had been able to discover that the client who booked the helicopter was a celebrity who wanted to treat their friends to an aerial view of the area. But Gifford didn’t know who the celebrity was, nor where they were staying whilst in the Cotswolds. This was a perfect example of the problem with policing this area: privacy. People paid handsomely for it and therefore felt they were entitled to it. But there was an upside: the field was also going to be used by the police helicopter once it arrived.
Jack headed past the church hall, and out of the event space through one of the numerous fields that had been converted into car parks. Barrowman’s charity buffet was due to open officially in thirty minutes, the crowds were building, and there was an atmosphere of excited anticipation.
Jack watched streams of cars being guided into makeshift parking spaces by teenagers in high-vis jackets. Hundreds of people, all in blissful ignorance, not suspecting that a coordinated series of simultaneous burglaries was about to occur.
Three rows from the front, seven cars from the left, Betina’s white Mercedes blended in with the other vehicles. The aerial was up, and a red ribbon fluttered in the breeze. When the time came, Betina would be able to find her Merc and be gone before the police even knew what had happened.
There was one ‘suite’ in The Fox Hunters B&B. It was a bedroom twice the size of any other, with a sofa and chairs added to create a TV area. It was also south-facing and had patio doors leading into a private, walled area of manicured flowerbeds, an elegant fountain water feature and a netted trampoline, where four-year-old Anthony Yardley had spent every waking minute ever since the family had been installed there. He was having a whale of a time, whilst bedbound Jessica was kept entertained with computer games and room service. Only the parents were not treating this as a holiday: David and Anne Yardley silently worried about their house being turned upside down by strangers, even though they knew it would be keenly protected by police officers inside and out. In the end they trusted DI Gifford, and so relinquished their home to him, confident that it was in good hands.
David Yardley owned a chain of builders’ merchants near Croydon. He left the day-to-day running of the business in the very capable hands of his two sons, both now in their mid-20s. Anne was David’s second wife and he’d moved to the Cotswolds because it was where she needed to be for her career as a riding instructor. David was Jack in reverse: a man who’d followed his wife’s career east to west, rather than west to east as Jack had done. But neither man regretted for a second their decision to follow their women across the country. They were both happily settled in their new homes with the people they loved most in the world. Jack had quickly come to know David and genuinely liked him; he was a smart, level-headed man who weighed up the risk and reward of every decision. He didn’t, as with men like Barrowman, demand success at all times. David was a man who’d failed his way to the top, by learning from every knock-down and by getting up stronger.
David appreciated Jack popping in, even if it was just to reiterate his instructions. ‘With police inside and out, your home will be safe. Please don’t call anyone and please don’t let slip what’s going on. One of my officers will come and take you home as soon as possible.’
Mason and Bevan sat at the breakfast bar in the Yardleys’ kitchen drinking from water bottles and eating shop-bought sandwiches. They were trying to leave no trace of themselves so that when all of this was over the Yardleys could have their home back seemingly untouched. Bevan had been full of questions about this assignment when Gifford and Mason first talked to her about it; not because she was frightened, but because she was a stickler for details and liked to know exactly what was expected of her. She’d openly asked Gifford if he thought she was ‘good enough to not let them down’ and he’d assured her that she was one of the most capable officers he’d ever served with, while he was privately convinced she was young and too inexperienced.