The Half Truth(8)
‘It’s just a theory at present, but we think he may have caught a connecting flight to Stockholm from Tallinn. That’s Estonia,’ said John. ‘It’s a route favoured in the past by some of the Porboski gang.’
‘What’s he doing over here?’ asked one of the team.
‘We’re not sure. Obviously a connection to the Bolotnikovs. I want all the flights in from Stockholm over the past week checked for facial recognition against this photo.’ He tapped at the board. ‘Clearly there’s some connection with the Bolotnikovs, but what that is, I’ve no idea. Yet.’
‘Wading through CCTV and facial recognition is going to take forever, especially if we don’t know when he came into the UK,’ said Adam.
‘Have you got any better suggestions?’ said John. His colleague shrunk back in his seat. ‘We’re also checking for Pavel Bolotnikov. Our unknown hasn’t come over for a sightseeing trip. It could be that Pavel is in the country and that means trouble.’
‘I want three of you to go and check out all the old stomping grounds of the Bolotnikovs and the Porboskis. The gang moved out of the UK after the Moorgate job, but they will still have contacts. People will know. Get some tongues wagging. We’re playing catch-up now and I don’t like it.’
John took a sip of his coffee as he let the information settle with his team. The Moorgate robbery was a tough subject for them all. It had been a bad day for the team.
‘What about the wife?’ asked someone.
‘Martin and I are going down to West Sussex to check things out.’ John put his cup down on the table in front of him. ‘I’m waiting for the local police to run a few checks, see what she’s been up to lately. I don’t want to scare her off if she’s got info. She may even be harbouring Pavel for all we know.’
A gentle murmur rippled out amongst his colleagues as more speculation was bounced around.
‘No one wants Pavel Bolotnikov brought to justice more than I do,’ said John picking up on the conversation. ‘If he’s here, we’re going to nail him.’
John left work early. There was someone he needed to see. Neil Edwards’ widow, Hannah. Although Neil’s murder case had never officially been closed, all leads had dried up as to where Pavel Bolotnikov was. Reports had come back from Russia that after his brother’s funeral, Pavel had disappeared off the radar. If anyone knew where he was, they weren’t talking. With no bilateral extradition treaty between the UK and Russia, any hope of co-operation from the authorities to hand Pavel over, were non-existent. Hannah Edwards needed to hear it from him himself that there had been some development in the case. John didn’t want her switching on the news and finding out or some journalist turning up on her doorstep.
John parked across the road from the village school. He watched the parents arriving and lining up outside the gates, waiting for home time. He scanned the queue, looking for the familiar fair hair of his partner’s widow.
He spotted her halfway down the line, head bent looking at her phone. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail and she had her gym wear on. She looked in good shape. John was pleased she seemed to be taking care of herself. There had been a time when he was worried she wasn’t bothering. After Neil’s death, her world had come to a standstill and John hadn’t been sure if it would ever start up again.
The guilt within surged, as it always did, when he saw her, but this time it receded with more ease than before. He hoped she was turning things around.
The gates opened and the parents filed into the playground. John got out of his car and leaned against the bonnet while he waited for Hannah to come back out with Ella; her and Neil’s eight-year-old daughter.
He didn’t have to wait long. As mother and daughter emerged from the crowd of navy and grey uniforms, Hannah looked up and met John’s gaze. She smiled and waved, said something to Ella, who looked over and waved too. Then they made their way across the road to John.
John kissed her on the cheek. ‘Hi, Hannah, good to see you.’ He leaned down and gave Ella a quick peck on the top of her head. ‘Hiya, Ella. How are you? That’s a nice school bag you’ve got there, is it new?’
‘Hi, John. It’s a High School Musical one.’ Proudly she held it up for John to see the picture. ‘It was a present.’
‘Wow! That looks nice. Who got you that?’
Hannah interrupted before Ella could reply. ‘You’ll have to explain to John about High School Musical and your bag some other time. I’m sure he’s really busy.’ She looked up at him. ‘Everything okay with you?’