Ten minutes later the noise from inside the tunnel abated and they heard Danny call out.
‘Go see what he wants,’ John said to Silas, as he didn’t want to go inside the tunnel again while Danny was using the cutting torch.
After a few seconds Silas reappeared from the tunnel and gestured with his finger and thumb.
‘He reckon is no that thick, maybe few inches, and couple of hours to cut through. He also wants a big bottle of water as like inferno in there.’
John excitedly slapped Silas on the back and picked up the walkie-talkie.
‘We’re back in business! The torch is slicing through the steel like butter and will take about two hours, then we’re in.’
‘Good,’ Clifford replied bluntly.
Bradfield had an excited grin and a ‘told you so’ look on his face as he checked his watch and looked at Dunbar who, having heard what John Bentley said to his father, was sitting with his head in his hands feeling sorry for himself. If the suspects were breaking through into the vault that night it would only be a matter of hours now before Operation Hawk went into overdrive. Bradfield called the incident room and the arrest teams were relieved and excited by the news. He told them to go the station yard at City Road Police Station and wait there until further instructions.
‘Not long now, Mr Dunbar,’ Bradfield said.
Dunbar looked up at him. ‘I’m sorry I doubted you, but I just can’t believe this is happening. I’ll do whatever you need me to, and if anyone in the bank is involved rest assured I will help you find them.’
‘I’m sure you will, Mr Dunbar,’ Bradfield replied, uncertain if his loyalty was to him or the suspects.
Bradfield turned to DS Gibbs who was standing beside him and reiterated that it was imperative, as DCS Shaun Metcalf had ordered, that the targets had to be inside the vault before he gave the go-ahead to move in and make the arrests.
Gibbs was shaking, more than ever aware that it was going to be one hell of a night.
When Jane arrived home her mother was elated and fussed around her, saying she was sure she’d lost weight. Jane asked where her father was and was told that he’d nipped to the off-licence to buy a few bottles of wine, a sparkling one for tonight to celebrate Jane’s homecoming and a couple for lunch the following day. Her mother leaned forward and looked closely at her daughter’s head.
‘What have you got in your hair?’ she asked as she touched her fingers to it and looked at them.
Jane stepped away from her and rubbed her fingers through the right side of her hair. She hadn’t realized some of Nancy Phillips’ spit had landed there and made her hair sticky.
‘It’s nothing, I didn’t wash the shampoo out properly.’
It was a lie, but there was no way she was going to tell her mother about the incident at the pub. Instead she said she would like to have a bath and change.
In her bedroom Jane kicked off her shoes and pulled off her jeans before sitting down on the freshly made bed. She felt exhausted and close to tears as the depression over Bradfield suddenly hit her again, but she forced herself to undress and put on her dressing gown. As she went into the hall her father appeared and held his arms open to embrace her.
‘How’s my little girl? Your mother just told me you were home, come here.’
He had so rarely been physically affectionate and she loved the feel of his arms around her.
‘So how are you?’ he asked and stepped back to look at her.
‘I’m fine, Dad, just very tired.’
‘Well, you go and have a nice bath and then you can tell us all about work.’
Lying in the foamy bath water, she closed her eyes. How could she tell them about work, about being spat at by a woman full of hatred of the police? How could she explain about Operation Hawk and John Bentley, or least of all her infatuation with DCI Bradfield?
The tears that had been close to the surface since she left the section house now streamed down her cheeks. She slowly slid her body further and further down into the hot water until her hair floated around her head and it felt as if she was drowning.
The tap on the bathroom door followed by her mother’s voice made her surface and she was glad she had locked it.
‘We had sausages and mash for supper. Would you like me to heat a couple for you, with some baked beans or a bit of salad maybe?’
‘Sausage and salad, thanks, Mum. I’ve nearly finished washing my hair.’
‘Well, don’t be too long, dear, it’s after ten and we’ll want to be up early to get everything ready for lunch tomorrow.’
Jane raised the wet flannel to her face and pressed it to her skin. She wondered again what was happening at the bank and felt annoyed that she couldn’t be there as part of the team. She sat up and pulled the bath plug out before wrapping a hand towel around her wet hair and drying her body with another. Then, wearing her dressing gown, she went into the living area where her father was sitting at the breakfast bar eating some cheese and biscuits. He looked up at her with a gentle smile.
