The list went on. And on. And on, and Oliver felt physically sick as he looked at each of the names. Alfie was by far the youngest, an anomaly amongst the other pubescent children. But then Oliver supposed his parentshadturned up dead—probably killed impromptu by the sex traffickers, leaving Alfie as a little bonus prize at the end.
The house in Tintern-on-Wye had been little more than a brothel. Somewhere to break the children in and gain control of their heat. The property in Wicking was likely heading in the same direction, were it not for Helena Cartwright providing them with the information that day. In fact, they may never have known about either addresses were it not for Alfie and Helena.
Oliver realised, then, that it wasn’t him, or Lucas or the Inspector, or the Special Branch officers that were going to dismantle the trafficking ring. It was the children. Their voices needed to be heard. Their voices, that Patrick Coletta had tried to silence.
Oliver’s head swam as he thought of everything that had occurred. How he’d sat in his kitchen with Lucas and watchedPatrick seamlessly coach the children through their police interviews. How they’d been allowed to provide just enough information to keep Op Sceptre busy, but ultimately only leading them to dead ends. How Patrick had tried to control Alfie through the diffusion day, but the boy opened up the second he was out of earshot. How Patrick’s ego had gotten the better of him, which let Alfie slip out of his tightly wound net.
Perhaps he’d been caught off guard at seeing Oliver’s name again. Perhaps he’d expected him to give up his career, too weak to continue after his near-death experience.Perhapshe’d arranged the diffusion day to discourage and demoralise him to such a degree that he’d be removed from the case. Christ knew he’d tried to hit him where it hurt with his cruel words. Whatever the reason, Oliver realised that the two of them meeting again after six years had ultimately been Patrick’s downfall.
But surely even he wouldn’t be so stupid… or so heartless?But then Oliver remembered how Patrick blamed him for everything. Even after Julian ran him out of town all those years ago, he turned back up at the hospital, determined to degrade and belittle him as he lay like a corpse in the treatment room. He’d insisted it was Oliver’s fault the pregnancy miscarried. His own fault for getting so sick. So,yes…Oliver supposed he could be that fucking heartless.
Then he was sprinting down the corridor, Nancy and Matteus shouting after him as his feet pounded on the carpet. The Inspector needed to be told, the Inspector would know what to do, the Inspector—the Inspector told him to stay well away from any enquiries involving Patrick Coletta.
His legs slowed, and his chest heaved as he came to a gradual stop. Officers and civilian staff stared at him as they passed by, probably thinking,‘well the blonde guy from child protection’sfinally lost it.’He couldn’t blame them, as he stood wide-eyed and feral looking in the middle of the corridor.
“Shitting fucking tits,” he whispered to himself. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
A sharp tug on his earlobe snapped him out of his thoughts. “Idiot,” Matteus said, yanking him around and back down the corridor. “Why do you always do that?”
Oliver pulled his head away but let his brother lead him back towards the briefing room. “Do what?”
“Run off on your own. I told you, we’re in this together.”
“I know but?—”
Matteus turned and gently pushed him against the wall, his head barely reaching the tip of Oliver’s nose. “Nobutsyou fucking cretin. Get back in there and explain to Nancy what’s been going on.”
“W-What? I can’t Matty, I won’t bring her into this.” He brought their heads together. “Writing that report for supervision was bad enough.”
“You can, and you will. Because God help her Ollie, she’s the one that’ll have to present this to the Inspector,” Matteus growled. Though his look of annoyance quickly shifted into confusion. He sniffed. “Ollie you?—“
“Right, fuckers,” Nancy said, striding down the corridor. “Is one of you gonna tell me what the fuck’s going on?”
By the timehe and Matteus finished explaining Patrick’s sordid past, Nancy was very red in the face. “That vile cunt,” she snarled, shaking her head. “They told me he’d been suspended, but I had no idea he’d done something like this. I just assumed he’d been selling feet pics on porn sites or something.” AndOliver had to laugh, becauseif onlyit had been feet pics on porn sites.
“So do you think you can do it, Nance? Can you take this to the Inspector on your own?” Matteus said, squeezing her shoulder. “I’m so sorry to ask.”
She waved the comment away. “Of course I fucking can. I’m the best detective West Newton has ever known, right?” Oliver grinned, taking a sip of coffee. “And besides. You’re my best friends. I’ll do whatever I can to see this guy sent down.
“Thank you,” Oliver sighed, scrubbing a hand through his hair.
Nancy let out a long groan. “Why the hell didn’t we spot this sooner? We generated a full intel package on him, didn’t we? Why did no one notice?”
“Because we didn’t know where to look,” Oliver replied, slumping into a swivel chair. “It wasn’t until Lucas and I saw him with the jellyfish man that we even had an inkling of what he was up to. All we had was a list of where he’d worked. But now?—”
“Now we know he’s culpable. That’s he’s connected,” Nancy replied, slipping into a chair opposite him. “The boss is right, you know? From what you’ve told me, Ollie, he’ll try to take you down with him. I think you’d better tell someone. Get yourself a solicitor or something.”
Oliver huffed. “Lucas and I’ve already contacted the Federation. They told us to sit tight for now. Things’ll probably change if he’s arrested. If he’s got even ashredof sense, he’ll say that the trafficking ring was exploiting him or something. Get himself a cushy little witness protection gig. It’d be easier than trying to implicate a police officer.”
“Yeah, but… he’ll be desperate,” Matteus said, rubbing a hand across his tiny bump. “You know what he’s like. As soon as shit hits the fan, he starts slinging mud at everyone. Remember what happened to Julian?”
Yes.Yes, Oliver remembered what happened to Julian, and he did not need a reminder.
“Which is whymyname, andmyname only, will be all over this report,” Nancy replied, picking up the mouse. “Hell, I’ll even scrub your fingerprints off the mouse so that turd doesn’t know you pressed the fucking button.”
Oliver chuckled. “No need to go that far, Nance.”
“I will, Ollie babe. You know I will. Just leave it to me.”
