The Half Truth(13)

‘You know my feelings on that,’ Tina replied with warmth in her voice.

‘And you know mine, love.’

She let it drop. It was pointless trying to convince him otherwise. ‘Do you want me to make you a Horlicks before I go?’ Tina asked standing up.

‘That’ll be nice, thanks, love.’

Opening the fridge for the milk, Tina tutted to herself. Mr Cooper was low on milk. She’d have to nip back home and get some. She popped her head back round the living-room door. ‘You haven’t got enough milk, Mr Cooper. I’ll quickly nip next door and get some. Won’t be a minute.’

‘Wait, love. There’s plenty of milk there. Should be at least a pint.’

‘You’ve got enough for a couple of cups of tea, but that’s about it.’

A look of concern settled in the creases of Mr Cooper’s weathered skin, accompanied by a deep sigh. ‘I must be losing my marbles. I could have sworn there was a pint there. Look, don’t worry, love. I’ll be okay tonight.’

‘I’ll bring you some first thing in the morning,’ said Tina. ‘I’ll see you then, okay?’

‘Yes, okay, pet. See you in the morning.’

Tina smiled as she left. In all the time she had lived here, Mr Cooper had never once called her by her name. It was always some term of endearment or another. She wondered if he actually could remember her name. Poor thing! Maybe he was getting a bit forgetful. Looking in the breadbin, she saw that there were only a couple of slices left. She’d get him some bread as well. She paused before opening the back door and called out loudly. ‘And don’t forget to lock the door!’

John flexed his shoulders and rotated his neck. It had been a long night sitting in the BMW with Martin. The September weather was still warm in the day, but dipped into autumn during the night. The coffee in his flask long gone, as were the sandwiches they had bought from the garage the day before.

They had watched the police activity at Tina Bolotnikov’s house the night before. A quick call to the local police station had told them what was going on. John had decided not to go in with all guns blazing at that point. The local police seemed to have it under control and there was definitely no one about. John had decided to sit it out. He didn’t want to spook their target straight away.

‘I’ll phone in to the office,’ said John. ‘See if they’ve had any reports back from the local police or any luck on the facial recognition.’

‘It’s all right, that facial recognition, if the person looks straight on at the camera,’ said Martin. ‘Not so good on profiles.’

‘I know,’ said John. ‘But it’s our only lead at the moment. You never know, we might get lucky. It’s not as if they are going to come through passport control with a hat and glasses on. Have a bit of faith.’

John got through to the office.

‘We’re still looking through CCTV of Heathrow,’ said Adam. ‘Have you any idea how many flights come through that airport every day, not to mention passengers?’

‘Keep looking. We need to find him.’ John ignored the deep sigh from Adam. He knew it was a shit of a job, but it needed doing. John needed to know who the dead Russian was, when he came into the UK and if Pavel Bolotnikov was back as well. If he had come in, John needed to track Pavel down – and fast. The Russian had slipped through his fingers once before. John wasn’t about to let it happen again. This wasn’t simply professional. This was personal.

‘Before you go, the Boss wants a word with you,’ said Adam. ‘Hold on, I’ll put you through.’

Brogan’s voice came on the line.

‘Anything to report?’ he asked.

‘Nothing as yet, Sir,’ said John. ‘There was a bit of activity here last night. I spoke to the local nick and apparently she reported a Peeping Tom in the alleyway behind her house.’

‘And was there?’

‘The local police didn’t find anyone.’

‘What do you think?’

‘Hard to say. Could be a coincidence. Adam is working on the CCTV at Heathrow now, but it could be a long and, possibly fruitless, task.’

‘Mmm, I know,’ said Brogan. ‘Man-hours wasted that could be put to better use elsewhere.’

‘Give him a bit longer, Guv,’ said John. ‘Whether it was Pavel here last night or not, doesn’t really matter now. If it was, after the police activity last night, he’s hardly like to come strolling down the road.’

‘What did you have in mind?’

‘Direct approach. I’ll go and speak to Tina Bolotnikov. If Pavel’s back and she knows, she’s hardly likely to be reporting intruders. My guess is she doesn’t know anything. Her and Pavel were never great friends when they all lived in London, so I can’t imagine anything has changed since then. I want to persuade her to call us if he turns up.’