Patel pressed on. “We leaned on Callum Reid hard in interview last night. He knows what he’s looking at. A fresh conviction, custodial, no support from Radley or his associates this time. Which means the sentence would be his alone to carry. We’ve kept the arrest off the books as far as media and local chatter. As far as Radley’s people know, Reid hasn’t been touched.”
Naomi gave a small nod. “Confirmed. My cover hasn’t picked up even a whisper yet. Far as they’re concerned, Reid’s still active.”
Patel steepled her hands, leaning forward. “So, we’ve struck a deal. Reid has agreed to cooperate, to help us draw Radley out, in exchange for non-prosecution on the current offence.”
Jude sucked in a sharp breath, rising off the table as though burned.
“Wait.” Warren slid a hand to Jude’s knee. The muscles were tight beneath his palm, tense as wire. “Listen first.”
Jude exhaled hard, forcing himself back down, and Warren withdrew his hand.
Patel’s voice stayed even. “The terms are clear. Reid will be subject to a restraining order against you, Mr Ellison. He’ll be relocated under witness protection, well away from Worthbridge. He’ll be barred from any contact, direct or indirect, with you. If he breaches, he goes straight back inside. Those are the conditions.”
Patel let the silence hang for a beat before leaning in. “Radley is hosting a private event this weekend. Core associates, trusted runners, the usual hangers-on. A number of them are local business owners. Whether they’re complicit in his other income streams or simply turning a blind eye, we don’t yet know. That’s intelligence we’ll be gathering too. Naomi has secured an entry point through her UC role. She’ll be inside. Reid’s also been invited. And Radley has already made it clear he wants to meet you, Mr Ellison.”
Jude flinched. “Me?”
“Yes.” Patel’s expression didn’t shift, though her words carried weight enough to hit. “Your name’s been raised more than once. You’re the teacher who pulled a boy out of a burning school. Radley likes optics. He likes a story. He’ll want to exploit your reputation. Respectable. Reliable. The local hero. Morethan that, he sees you as a line into Worthbridge Secondary. Someone who makes his recruitment cleaner, easier. He believes you’d be pliable, easy to flip, because of your history with Reid. Our assessment is that Reid didn’t come back to Worthbridge for you. He came for money owed. It was Radley who pushed him to re-establish contact.”
Jude’s stomach twisted, bile rising. “So he thinks… what? That I’d hand him kids?”
“That’s precisely what he’ll try to sound you out for,” Patel said, voice firm. “And we need that conversation captured.”
“Reid can wear a wire,” Warren snapped before his brain kicked in because he knew what was coming next. “He’s the one with the history, the ties. Leave Jude out of it.”
Naomi shook her head. “Too risky. Reid’s been around Radley long enough to know the tells. They’d pat him down before he was in the door. They trust him, but not that much. You put tech on him, he’s dead before he finishes his drink.” Naomi cut her gaze cut to Jude again. “You’re different. Radley doesn’t suspect you. He wants you there, which gives us an opening. You wear a wire, we get him soliciting you directly—recruitment, grooming, any line about payment or expectation—and we’ve got him nailed. Between that and your statement you saw Radley working with Reid years ago, we’re good to go. No wriggle room. No legal gymnastics. A watertight prosecution.”
Jude curled his hands in his lap, knuckles blanching. “You want me to go into that house. With Callum. To sit in front of Radley. With a wire on.”
“Yes.” Patel’s tone softened, but only slightly. “We’ll have surveillance in place. Naomi inside. Uniforms close. Armed response on standby if needed. You won’t be alone.”
Warren’s chest burned hot. “You’re asking him to walk into the lion’s den wearing steak around his neck.”
Patel’s gaze cut to Warren, hard as glass. “I’m asking him to give us Radley. Once and for all.”
Warren turned to Jude. Their eyes locked, and he saw the fear, yes, but underneath it a grim, immovable resolve. And that terrified him more than anything.
“You don’t have to do this,” he said, offering Jude a choice. Because he had to know he had one.
Jude tilted his head. The decision was already written across his face. “I can’t let him walk away from this. Not after the fire. Not after Alfie. Reuben. The kids in my school. They need someone to stop it happening to them. The shit that happened to me. If I turn my back now… what sort of teacher am I? What sort of role model?”
Warren blew out a sharp breath through his nose, nostrils flaring, then swung back to Patel. “If he goes in, I’m going with him.”
“You’re off the op, DS Beckford. You shouldn’t even be sat in this room. You should be back in London, feet up, watching daytime TV. You are benched. Pending review. As of right now, you are not police.”
Warren bristled. “Then put me in the van. Surveillance. Wire room. Anything.”
Patel pinched the bridge of her nose, exhaling hard. “How many times do I need to spell this out? If you so much as breathe near this operation in an official capacity, it is compromised. Defence will rip it to shreds in court. We’ll lose credibility, Radley will walk, and he’ll keep using kids to run his lines and girls to line his pockets. And all because you couldn’t keep a hundred bloody feet away.”
The words stung, each one a nail in the wall closing him out.
“Actually…” Naomi’s voice cut across the silence. “I’ve already cleared Bailey for cover. He’s listed as staff. On the waiting team. It’s low risk. He doesn’t go in as us, doesn’t touchthe operational chain. But he’ll be in the room. Eyes on.” She widened softening eyes on Warren. “If that helps ease your… concern for Jude.”
Warren swallowed hard. He knew exactly what Naomi was doing. She was throwing him a lifeline. Giving him the in he’d been begging for without saying it out loud. And the sting of it? He’d never done the same for her. Back when she’d been running deep cover, he’d stayed outside, played by the book. Trusted the op. Trusted her.
Not this time.
This time he couldn’t stay outside. Couldn’t trust the process. Maybe because there was more at stake. More risk. Or maybe because what he stood to lose wasn’t the job.
