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Prologue
“DCIHowells,Ihaveyour wife on the phone.”
I paused, looking at my watch, wincing when I noticed the time. I was already running late. I ran my hand through my dark brown hair, realizing I needed a haircut.
“Can you tell her I’m in the briefing and you can’t reach me? I’ll call her back when I’m done.”
“Of course. Everyone is waiting for you in meeting room 3.”
“Thanks, Hannah.”
I fastened my charcoal gray suit jacket and straightened the tie my wife had bought me a few months ago, smiling to myself as I remembered how she’d told me it made my eyes pop.
A pang of guilt struck me, but she knew how busy I was with this case, and I could make it up to her later. I tried to hide the smile from my face as I imagined her wrists bound with my tie and my face buried between her thighs when I got home.
Sucking in a deep breath, bringing myself back to the moment, I strode along the corridor to meeting room 3, silence settling as soon as I stepped in through the door. I’d been Detective Chief Inspector for a year now, but it still felt strange to be in charge of a large team, in a place where I’d started as a rookie cop.
I moved to stand in front of the incident board that Hannah, my PA, had set up. On it were the details of the case we were working. “As you know, this is Nicolas Preston.” I pointed to the pictures of the man pinned to the board. One was a headshot taken when he was arrested and released without charge a few years ago. The others were surveillance shots of him entering and leaving buildings around London’s Docklands.
“We have mounting intel that Preston is heavily involved in trafficking. Mainly guns and women, but we can’t rule out children as well. He seems to bring them into the city, only to ship them out again all over the world. He’s been quiet for a while, but we believe he’s involved in something big. We need to find a way to get eyes on him, track where he might be keeping his cargo, and who his customers are.”
I paused to take a sip of my water before unfastening my suit jacket and loosening my tie; the jam-packed meeting room becoming stiflingly warm.
“You all have the packs Hannah gave you on the way in. Read them, learn them and then get ready for a pretty intense few weeks, while we put him under surveillance and pin down as much concrete evidence as we can. Don’t share your role in this with anyone outside the people in this room, but if you need a chat about the case or your part in it, then my door is always open.”
Murmurs and quiet conversations broke out around the room as the officers and detectives opened their envelopes. I knew they would all just get on with it, without question. I’d spent the last twelve months honing my team to be the best in the force, and our success rate recently was a testament to that.
“Right, go home, get some rest and I will see you back here in the morning. Don’t forget to do your homework. I’ll be testing you all.” Light laughter rippled out as everyone filed out of the room.
I took a moment and waited for them all to leave before I walked back to my office. The corner space on the 5th floor of the Metropolitan Police Headquarters offered a less than glamorous view of the surrounding buildings and the congested London traffic.
Taking a seat in my high-backed, leather chair, I twisted my neck to click out the tension that was already building, as I thought about the logistics I needed to consider to keep my team safe.
Shaking my mouse, my computer leaped to life, and I typed in my password so I could check my email. When the programme opened, I sighed, wishing I hadn’t bothered as I took in the number of ones marked 'urgent’.
Hannah appeared out of nowhere, placing a giant coffee on my desk with a smile. “Don’t forget to call your wife back, Sir. She sounded… well, she didn’t sound like herself.”
“What do you mean?” I asked as my brow furrowed with worry.
“I don’t know. The more I think about it, the more I think she was, well… she seemed a little frantic.”
“Really? Okay. I’ll call her back now. Thanks, Hannah. You can go home as well. It’s going to get a little crazy around here over the next few weeks.”
“I won’t say no to that. I’ll see you in the morning, Sir.”
“I wish you’d call me Matt, Hannah.”
“Not happening.”
Once she’d left, I picked up the office phone and called Emma. Her mobile rang and rang, but she didn’t answer. I was about to hang up and try the landline when my mobile rang with a withheld number.
“DCI Howells speaking.”
“Detective Chief Inspector. My name is Thomas Lanton. I believe you’re looking for Nicolas Preston?”
I paused, confused. “I can’t discuss anything like that with you, Mr. Lanton. Can I ask where you got my number from?”
“I fully understand DCI Howells. I know how these things work, but I want you to know that he’s been dealt with.”
