Patel crossed her legs, leaning in. “The wire. After the blast, comms still had an open feed. Damaged, muffled, but salvageable. Our tech team cleaned it up. Do you remember what was said?”
Jude rubbed his temple, memory fractured and blurred. “Bits. Not clearly. When the blast went off, I was hit and out of it for a bit.”
Patel nodded. “Radley panicked. He argued with Reid, loud enough to forget himself. Reid was desperate to get his hands on the payment he was owed and used the moment of the blast and Radley being trapped to get it. They referenced shipments coming in, named the dates, even the route. He ranted about the RLNI crew on the dock payroll. Then, when an opportunity opened for Reid to bolt, he left him pinned, he started shouting about Vivienne. Naming names, spitting out how she was cuttingdeals behind his back, how she wanted the whole network for herself. It’s all on tape. His own words, straight into your wire.”
Naomi added, “It’s enough for conspiracy, arson, intent to endanger life, trafficking. Charges that stick. The CPS won’t be able to argue intent when his own words are on tape. And you, trying to calm him, trying to pull him free even as you were injured, cements you as a credible witness, not a co-conspirator.”
Patel gave a small smile, rare and tired. “You stayed, Jude. And because you did, Radley got out alive and we have everything we need to put him away.”
Jude sank back into the chair, the cushions swallowing him up. His chest felt hollow. “Right. Well… that’s good news. I suppose.” He rubbed his forehead. “So, who set the fire? What was that about?”
“The full investigation is still live,” Patel said, leaning back. “But the working theory? It was Vivienne’s doing. She engineered the whole thing—the party, the timing, making sure the place was compromised. It was supposed to look like a tragic accident foreveryoneinvolved. Her planning that blast is a separate, major case.”
Naomi folded her hands around her mug. “There’s a long road ahead. A trial that will drag on, appeals that will try to chip away at it. But the backbone of Radley’s operation is gone. The lines he used to funnel money, drugs, kids—they’ve been severed. Most of the people who enabled him are in custody. The rest won’t stay hidden for long.”
Jude had to ask and braced himself for the answer. “And Callum?”
Patel pursed her lips. “He didn’t get far. He’s back inside. Remanded until we sort the charges. It’s… complicated. Because of his role as an informant, his lawyers will fight tooth andnail, argue entrapment, diminished responsibility. But you don’t need to worry. He won’t be anywhere near you.”
The words should have steadied him. They didn’t. All he wanted to know was why Warren wasn’t in this room with him.
But Patel and Naomi kept talking, laying out procedure in careful, clipped tones. His witness statement. Court prep. Disclosure protocols. What the CPS would need from him, what protective measures could be put in place if he felt unsafe. A post-mortem of the operation itself. How the explosion had almost derailed it, but the wire had carried through, evidence intact.
“Vivienne Radley is also in custody,” Patel said. “Pending review of her involvement. It’s possible she’ll distance herself. Claim coercion, abuse. With her solicitor, she’ll lean into the narrative. Cheated on. Manipulated. Now with Piper’s child in the mix…” She paused, mouth tightening. “She could walk free. And wealthy.”
Jude nodded faintly, though the words slid over him without sinking in. Legal jargon. Outcomes. Abused wife, wealthy widow. It was all politics, stories spun in courtrooms to justify who walked and who rotted. And he tried to focus, but his mind kept slipping sideways.
What was happening with Warren?
Patel drained the last of her tea, set the cup neatly on the table, and rose. Naomi followed, shrugging into her coat.
“We’ll leave you to your evening.” Patel fastened her buttons, gaze flicking to the stack of unopened post on the coffee table. Bills, notices, fragments of a life put on hold. “I imagine you’ve got a lot to catch up on.”
Jude didn’t look at it. He nodded, more reflex than agreement, and walked them to the door. When he opened it, Warren was there. Waiting.
“Warren.” Patel’s tone softened by a fraction as she stepped past him, Naomi close behind.
“Ma’am…”
Patel gave a small, almost sympathetic tut. “The file’s been passed to Professional Standards. No surprises there. We’ve logged your resignation. Effective immediately.”
Warren nodded once. No fight. No apology. A quiet finality. “Understood.”
Patel inclined her head. “It’s the right course of action. It simplifies matters for the Chief Superintendent and closes the issue of procedural breaches. There’ll be no formal hearing. Paperwork only.” She turned to Jude. “It means the board won’t drag on for months, Mr Ellison. It’s a clean exit. For everyone.”
Warren’s gaze found Jude’s then. Unspoken, but clear.
It’s done. I’m here.
Patel returned to the car, the door closing with a soft, decisive thud. Naomi lingered, arms folded.
“Take care, Warren.” She then stepped in and pulled him into a brief hug.
“You too, Ni.” He hugged her back. “When this all blows over, maybe I’ll finally meet your bloke, yeah?”
Naomi laughed, shaking her head. “Sure. Let’s make it more awkward.”
Then she turned to Jude, her smile softer. “He’s a good one. Don’t let him talk himself out of that.” She nudged Warren. “What the Met’s losing, is your gain.”
