‘Sounds about right,’ continued Bovalino. ‘He did multiple tours of Iraq and Afghanistan, but only in a diplomatic role. He never actually saw combat. He retired in 2010 and headed straight into the police, where he rose through the ranks like a rocket. He made DCI in just five years.’
‘Amazing what you can achieve if your face fits,’ said Phillips.
‘Yeah, well, funny you should say that. I checked his background prior to joining the military, and it appears he studied Classics at Durham University with Sir Malcolm Lewis – the current Deputy Commissioner of the Met’.’
‘Jobs for the boys,’ said Jones.
Phillips nodded. ‘Anything else, Bov?’
‘Just that he’s divorced with two grown-up sons. One lives in Melbourne, Australia. Works as a teacher. The other is a web-developer in California.’
‘Running away from Daddy, perhaps?’ asked Jones.
‘I certainly would if he was my dad!’ said Phillips. ‘So, what about the ex-wife; where is she?’
Bov shuffled some papers, taking a moment to answer. ‘Er, looks like she lives in France. Runs a boutique guesthouse in Brittany.’
‘Does he have a girlfriend – or maybe a boyfriend, even?’ asked Phillips.
‘Not that I can see. Looks like he’s a bit of a loner, by all accounts.’
Phillips took a moment to process the information.
‘That’s as much as I’ve found so far, Guv,’
‘You’ve done well, Bov,’ said Phillips.
‘Do you want me to keep digging?’
‘No, that’ll do for now,’ said Phillips. ‘We’ve got more important things to worry about, like finding Hollie. How’s Entwistle getting on with Robbins’s and Cartwright’s backgrounds?’
‘I dunno, but he’s sat opposite me, looking as gormless as ever.’ Bovalino chortled. ‘Do you want me to transfer you?’
Just then, Phillips’s phone began to beep. Checking the screen, she could see Fox was on the other line. ‘No, not right now. Fox is calling me. I’d better see what she wants. Tell Entwistle we’ll be back in the office in twenty minutes, and I want a full update ready.’
‘Will do, Guv.’
‘Thanks Bov.’ She ended the call and answered Fox’s. ‘Ma’am?’
At Ashton House, Phillips followed Jones up the stairs from the car park to the fifth floor.
‘You ok, Jonesy?’ she asked, noting his slumped posture and heavy legs.
Jones glanced back over his shoulder, but continued upwards. ‘Fine, Guv.’
She suspected he wasn’t telling the whole truth. ‘You’re not worried about the meeting with Fox, are you?’
He shook his head softly. ‘No, of course not.’ His words lacked conviction.
‘Like she said on the call, it’s just a debrief. Nothing to worry about.’
Jones reached the landing on the fifth floor and turned to face Phillips. ‘So why does she want me in there? You always handle this stuff.’
Phillips joined him on the landing and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. ‘Maybe she’s getting rid of me and wants you to take over.’ She grinned.
Jones’s eyes widened. ‘Don’t even joke about shit like that.’
Phillips chuckled. ‘Well, whatever she wants, we’ll find out soon enough. Come on.’
A few minutes later, they were ushered into Fox’s office by Ms Blair.
Fox, as usual, was in full uniform. Her glasses were perched on the end of her tanned nose, which contrasted her cheaply dyed blonde hair, and she was perusing a thick file. As was her wont, she took some moments before she acknowledged them, but when she did, her trademark Cheshire Cat smile spread across her face. ‘DCI Phillips, and DS Jones. Please, take a seat.’
As they each took a chair opposite Fox, she scribbled something in the margin of the report she’d been reading, and placed it to one side on her large, frosted-glass desk, along with her glasses.
‘So, tell me about your visit to the Hawkins’s this morning. Where are we at with tracing their daughter?’
Phillips explained the details of the video, and the demands delivered through Hollie’s message to her father.
Fox raised an eyebrow when she heard the terms. ‘A week to find the money? I see.’ She tapped her pen on her veneered teeth. ‘Why a week?’
‘We have no idea, Ma’am,’ said Phillips.
‘And what was Saxby’s take on it all?’
Phillips shrugged. ‘Nothing exceptional. To be honest, he advised Mr Hawkins in exactly the same way I would have done.’
‘Which was?’
‘Play along, for now, until we have more information.’
‘And what do you make of him?’ asked Fox.
‘Hawkins?’ said Phillips.
‘No. Saxby.’
Phillips blew her lips gently as she searched for the most diplomatic response. ‘Well, he’s, erm…well, he’s very Met Police Ma’am.’
‘What do you mean by that?’
‘It’s just that he thinks he knows better than everyone else.’
‘And does he?’ pushed Fox.
Phillips shook her head. ‘Based on the evidence I’ve seen so far, I’d have to say no. Seems quite old-school.’
Fox turned her attention to Jones now. ‘What about you, DS Jones? What’s your take on him?’
Jones, unprepared for the question, shifted in his seat and cleared his throat. ‘Er, well, like the Guv said, he’s very “Met Police”, Ma’am.’
Fox’s eyes narrowed. ‘Now, DS Jones. I’m quite sure you have more to offer than merely parroting your DCI.’
Jones’s mouth fell open as he searched for the right words.
‘And be honest, Jones,’ said Fox, her gaze unflinching. ‘You can speak freely in here.’
Phillips’s heart went out to Jones as she watched him squirm in his chair. Fox was playing with him like a cat with an injured bird. She loved to put people on the back foot, as she believed it forced them into telling the truth. It was a technique she had used to great effect in the past, back when she herself was a DCI.
‘Erm, well, Ma’am. It's just that he’s quite superior in his approach, and appears unwilling to listen to any opinions that don’t match his own.’
Fox stared at Jones in silence for a long moment before she nodded and turned her attention back to Phillips. ‘Right. Well, whatever either of you think of Saxby, I’ve been told, in no uncertain terms, by Chief Constable Morris, that he’s here for the duration of the investigation. He’s even been given his own office – two doors down from mine.’ Fox appeared to snarl a bit as she shared this development. Acquiring an office on the fifth floor was seen as a rite of passage, a privilege reserved for the ranks of Superintendent and above. ‘So, it would seem he gets whatever he wants.’
Phillips knew there was little to be gained from arguing against Saxby’s involvement, especially if the directive had come down from the chief constable himself. ‘We’ll do what we can to accommodate him, Ma’am,’ she said through gritted teeth.