“I wonder if he was fond of crosswords.”

“I’m not sure we found any crosswords but he could be. He did collect the paper every morning. He could have done the one inside each day.”

Theo went to the kitchen and came back with a chair. “So what do you think of the art? Worth sitting and looking at all day?”

“It’s interesting, that’s for sure. Who made it?”

“He did. We found his studio upstairs where he created them.”

“Can I see it?”

“Of course.”

“So, part of his income was from selling these pieces?”

“I don’t believe he sold many, if any.”

“That’s strange.”

“Like I said, a lot of things about this case are a bit odd.”

He led her up the stairs to the studio. She ran her hands through the different tiles neatly sorted in their boxes.

“It takes a different mind to carefully place tile, row upon row, and call it art. It also takes a different mind to sit alone in a room with it with nothing else to keep them company. It doesn’t look like he came up here in a very long time. Look at the dust that has collected on all the tiles and workstation.”

“No, maybe he couldn’t get up here after his leg was removed.”

“I see.” She turned around and leaned against the worktop. “I suppose you want to know what I found out about Maddock’s uncle.”

“Uncle?”

“Yes. The one who worked for the government. That’s one of the reasons why you texted me wasn’t it?”

“Um, actually I did know Mr. Tipring’s uncle worked for the government but I didn’t know what sector. He worked for MI5? This might be the break I was looking for. What did you find?”

“Earnest Tipring did work for MI5 but he died in the 90s. I haven’t had the time to go through all his files but I did find something interesting. Earnest held a file on his nephew.”

“Really? Why? Do you think he worked for the government as well?” Theo asked.

“I don’t know. I went back in the records but as far as I know, and really I’m not sure how much information I have complete access to, I couldn’t find any mention of Tipring as either an agent, enemy, or informant for the intelligence service. Only this.”

She pulled a file from her bag. Four pages fell out and onto the floor. Theo bent down to retrieve them and flipped through them on his way up.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“Often, to protect information, agents will write notes in what is called coded shorthand. A type of shorthand only the creator can understand. And sadly, the only thing in the file other than basic information available to any police officer, is written in code. It’s almost like Earnest wrote these for his eyes only which makes me believe Maddock may have been an informant of some sort.”

“Shit.”

“What?”

“Well, you know what that means, don’t you? It takes the case from a random killing or killing for financial gain to who knows what. He could’ve been involved in anything. His past could have caught up with him. Where the hell do I start?”

“Well, we do have these,” Sophia said and held up the pages.

“And cracking code is your specialty. Let’s see what you can come up with. In the meantime, I can ask the people he came in contact with if they have noticed anyone suspicious hanging round the house. I’m so sorry, Sophia.”

Her hands fell to her side. “What?” she asked.

“I’m sorry to drag you back into one of my cases. Probably the last thing you want to do is work another police case.”

She laughed. “If you had any idea what I’m working on now, you would throw me five cases. Mind, this has to be kept secret. I don’t know what the notes contain and until I do, I don’t know what I’m getting involved with. Even though it looks like the pages haven’t been touched in years, I don’t know what mess we may be getting ourselves involved with.”

“I understand. Until we find out, I will make enquiries as if I have no knowledge these pages exist.”

“Thank you. I’ll make us some copies and replace the file tomorrow.” She went downstairs. “So what will happen to all the art?”

“They go to auction.”

“How many pieces are there?”

“When I counted, thirty-two. Why, are you thinking of buying one?”

“Not likely.” She closed her eyes. Without opening them, she continued, “I’m glad you texted.”

He didn’t reply but she could hear him breathing heavily. She resisted the urge to look at him.

“Why?” he finally said.

“It’s not what you think. It’s not a come on. It’s a complement actually. Sometimes I want to just be around normal people.”

She finally looked at him, but he wasn’t looking at her. He was looking at his feet and rubbing his hands together.

“It’s not that I don’t think you’re brilliant, but everyone I work with thinks they’re more brilliant than God,” Sophia said.

“I used to think that of you, at one time.”

“That I’m more brilliant than God or that I believe I am?”

“Take your pick.”

“Well, perhaps you’re right. Well, Blackwell, my friend, take care. I will ring you tomorrow. Perhaps we can meet so I can give you a copy of the case notes. And remember, don’t run backwards you’ll vomit.” She laughed. “Good night, Detective Blackwell.”

Chapter Twenty

Crystal and the night team were at the East End flat when Sophia arrived the next morning. Both Melony and her partner Bert were in the kitchen, leaning against the worktop, drinking coffee and stuffing their faces with cherry pastries. Bert’s shirt was un-tucked and his hair stuck up in various directions. Melony’s t-shirt was on backward.

“How was the night? Did you get any sleep?” Sophia asked, stepping past them to pour herself a cup of coffee.

“Sleep?” asked Melony. “What kind of stupid question is that? Of course not. We can’t watch the monitors and sleep at the same time, now can we? Why do you think we’re drinking coffee?” She held up her cup.

Sophia rolled her eyes. Obviously she picked the wrong people to make chit chat with. She went over to the fridge and poured milk into her cup. “Did our Ms. Smith do anything interesting?”

This time Bert replied, “It was uneventful except for one thing: Elaine Smith received a phone call at 7:46 this morning. It was simply this,” he picked up a piece of paper and read, “I have chocolates for you.”

“That’s the agreed-upon code?”

“We believe so. The man on the phone is scheduled to arrive at 10:10. Liam wants us all here for that meet. If a message regarding the whereabouts of the weapons are to be passed on, it will be done today. We can’t mess this up because we don’t know if we’ll have another chance. We don’t know how many times he’s bought weapons in the past. And any shipments that get past us means more weapons on the streets, killing people.”

He sounded so melodramatic Sophia almost broke out in laughter. But she knew this was serious. She knew first-hand the damage one gun could do.

“What would you like me to do?” Sophia asked.

“We can’t do much now except make sure we’re ready for the meet and make sure our equipment is running smoothly.”

“All right. Crystal and I will have a look at the equipment and make sure it’s functioning properly.”

“We’ve already done that, it’s fine,” Bert replied.

“Well, it won’t hurt to check again, will it?”

He just shrugged.

Crystal was already on the computer, changing settings.

“What are you doing?” Sophia signed to her.

“Tweaking the resolution so the picture is clearer. I doubt they’ll have a problem with that. I’m also trying to boost the system becaue there’s a lag. I don’t want our system to go down while we’re expecting movement. So, what’s wrong with the pair of them? Have they slept together?”

“I’m pretty sure Melony has had her shirt off at one point during the night. What else are two people going to do all night?” She laughed and nudged Crystal.