‘The house has been swept for any listening devices, and they’ve finished a full inspection of all the perimeter fences,’ replied Krupin. ‘I’ve been informed that your nearest neighbours are away, visiting the south of France for the summer. There are some maintenance issues with the security camera system that should be fixed by this evening.’
Malikov reached out and squeezed the other man’s shoulder. ‘We’ll leave as soon as it’s ready.’
CHAPTER 11
The large steel doors began to slide back into place with a loud squeal, and Ben stalked across the concrete floor towards Joe.
‘I thought you were going to make sure this place was ready?’ he grumbled.
Joe shrugged. ‘It’s only meant to be temporary.’
‘It bloody will be, if anyone heard those doors closing.’
‘Don’t worry. This estate has been deserted for over a year.’
Ben shoved his hands in his pockets and turned away, his eyes adjusting to the gloom.
His head snapped up at the sound of loud fluttering above, his heart missing a beat until he spotted the small group of pigeons that congregated amongst the roof trusses. A crack of sunlight in the corrugated iron roof revealed their way into the warehouse.
Beyond the thin walls of the building, the sound of traffic from the main road reached his ears, the gentle breeze outside wafting the noise towards the industrial estate.
A long, wide crack had split the floor under his feet, and he followed it to its source, a steel beam that towered above him, disappearing into the gloom of the roof trusses.
‘Why’s it deserted?’ he called over his shoulder.
‘Subsidence,’ said Joe. ‘Blame it on the Council trying to do a job on the cheap. By the time anyone realised, it was too late.’
Ben grunted. He’d worked on building sites in the past, seen first-hand the shortcuts impatient site owners would force construction teams to take.
He hawked onto the floor and then continued to walk the perimeter. Towards the back of the vast space, he found a staircase. A chain draped between the steel bannisters, a bright red warning sign attached to it.
‘What’s up here?’
‘Mezzanine level. It opens up at this end. Rotten as hell, according to my contact. Nothing up there except rats.’
Ben reached out, grasped one of the bannisters, and gave it a firm shake.
The whole structure seemed to sway with the movement, and he stepped away.
‘Shit,’ he murmured and raised his gaze to the top of the stairs. ‘The whole bloody place could fall down on us.’
He shook his head and made his way back to the vehicle, where Joe was opening the rear door.
The case could be lifted by one person, but it was easier with two. The container was bulky, rather than heavy, so between them they carried it across the floor to a large misshapen bulk hidden under a tarpaulin.
Placing the case on the floor, they each grabbed an end of the dark plastic and pulled.
A four-door sedan was revealed, its paintwork dirty and rusted in places.
‘Red?’
Joe shrugged. ‘More chance of it being stolen by the local kids once we’ve finished with it,’ he said. ‘More effective than torching it. Police are always suspicious of burnt-out cars. It’ll be months before this thing’s discovered.’
Ben grunted. It made sense, but in the meantime, he couldn’t help thinking they’d stick out like a sore thumb.
Joe noticed his discomfort. ‘Listen, we’re only going to be driving this at night. And only for a short time,’ he said. ‘Don’t worry about it.’
Ben exhaled and held up his hands. ‘Okay, as long as you’re sure.’
‘I’m sure. Now help me get this in the back of the car so we can eat. I’m fucking starving.’
Half an hour later, they’d taped cardboard over the few windows set high up in the walls of the warehouse and had set about heating up their meagre food supplies on a small camp stove that had been left with the car.
Ben placed his empty container on the floor next to his feet, rubbed his hands on his jeans, and then twisted on the crate he sat on.
‘Did you hear that?’ he frowned.
Joe looked up, a spoonful of food held midway to his mouth. ‘What?’
‘Listen.’
They fell silent until Joe lost patience and started eating again.
‘I told you,’ he said through a mouthful of pasta. ‘Rats.’
Ben glanced over at the sleeping bags and bed rolls they’d set up next to the larger vehicle and shivered. ‘As long as they stay up there,’ he growled.
Joe chuckled, before pointing with his spoon to the exposed part of the mezzanine level that acted as a balcony above their heads. ‘We’ll throw the food containers up there,’ he said. ‘That’ll keep the little bastards busy.’
‘How long do we have to stay here for?’
Joe belched and put his bowl on the floor. ‘Until tomorrow. Then we’ll go to a safe house. We wait there until he calls.’
‘When do we get the rest of our money?’
‘He’ll give us a location. We drop the case off, and the money is transferred. We’ll get a notification two minutes after the drop-off.’
Ben grunted and then fell silent.
The two men had worked together before, successfully too. Not too often, though. A couple of jobs before this. For pocket change, compared to the payout they’d negotiated for this one.
It’d taken months of research – that was his forte – and then the planning phase.
Now he was within forty-eight hours of retirement.
He raised his gaze to the cobwebs that glinted in the light of the two camping lanterns they’d placed on the floor to alleviate the gloom and then smiled.
‘What are you thinking about?’ asked Joe.
‘The Caribbean,’ replied Ben. ‘And women with big tits.’
CHAPTER 12
‘What are you going to do?’
Sarah hurried through the apartment, following Dan as he pushed his belongings back into his kit bag.
‘I have to get back to the office. Let them know we’ve got a problem on our hands.’ Dan shoved an errant sock into the bag and then swung it over his shoulder. He turned, to see Sarah standing in the doorway, crestfallen. ‘Hey, come here.’
She cleared the space between them and wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her face into his shoulder. ‘You’ve only just got back,’ she whispered.
‘I know.’ He rubbed her shoulders and kissed her hair. ‘Can you work from home today?’
‘Yes. Why?’
‘I’d feel better if I knew where you were.’
‘You said you think your life’s in danger.’
‘I did.’
She drew back and peered up at him, tears threatening to fall. ‘Then, why? Why do you have to go? Why can’t you phone them and tell them what you’ve found out?’
Her fingers clutched at his t-shirt, her nails scratching lightly at his skin underneath.
‘You know why,’ he said softly. ‘It’s what I do. And until I find out what’s happened to David and Mitch, I don’t know who I can trust.’ He shrugged. ‘I’m not going to convince Porchester how urgent this is unless I can tell him to his face.’
He wrapped his fingers in her hair, closed his eyes and inhaled her scent before gently pushing her away. ‘Come on, walk me out.’
A sigh shuddered through her body as he clasped her hand in his and led the way through the hallway, and he wondered if they’d ever get the chance to spend some real time together.
‘I’ve got to go,’ he said and pulled the door open. ‘Keep this locked, okay?’
‘Dan?’ Sarah rushed to the threshold and clung to the door frame. ‘Be careful.’
He winked. ‘Keep your head down. I’ll call you later.’
***
‘Dan? I didn’t expect to see you back here so soon.’ Evans steered Dan towards his office.
‘What’s the matter?’
‘Is Hugh Porchester joining us?’
‘Yes, why?’
‘I’d rather not repeat myself, if that’s okay with you, sir.’ Dan took the seat Evans directed him to, placed the folder that held collated copies of Sarah’s evidence onto the table in front of him, and clasped his hands over it.
‘Ah, I — all right, well,’ blustered Evans and checked his watch. ‘He should be here in the next ten minutes or so.’
‘Great.’
Dan leaned back in his chair, keeping eye contact with the man. ‘You don’t mind if we wait then?’
‘Um, no, okay. Shall I order coffee?’
Dan shrugged. ‘Fine by me.’
‘Okay, good — back in a minute then.’
Dan allowed a smirk to cross his mouth as the door closed and then flicked absently through the contents of the documents while he waited.
After five minutes, he was bored and began to pace the room.
Eventually, Evans returned, a harried expression etched across his face, with Porchester in tow.
Dan waited until the two men had helped themselves to coffee and settled into their seats and then cleared his throat. ‘First of all, could you tell me why the government is funding a shale gas drilling study in Northumberland?’
Porchester spluttered, lowered his cup and saucer onto the table with a clatter, and stared at Dan. ‘How could you possibly know about that?’ he demanded.
‘It was brought to my attention,’ said Dan. ‘I thought all fracking had been stopped by the government pending a further environmental enquiry?’
Neither of the men replied for a moment, until Porchester broke the spell.
‘Dan, this is highly confidential. The public can’t find out about it,’ he began and held up his hand to stop Dan from interrupting. ‘The government has to have a number of options available to it for the country’s energy needs.’ He sighed. ‘Nuclear is turning out to be one of the biggest tits-ups of the 1950s – trying to maintain and close the old power stations is a major headache – and wind power simply can’t generate the sort of power required. If OPEC doesn’t sort its house out soon and oil prices suddenly skyrocket, we’re left with imported gas. You can imagine how the average household energy costs will spin out of control if that happens.’
‘So you’re secretly continuing the fracking programme, is that it?’
‘Yes.’ Evans leaned forward. ‘Why are you so suddenly interested?’
Dan opened the padded envelope and pushed the copied local newspaper cuttings across the table. ‘I’m presuming you’re aware three men were killed on site last week?’
Porchester glanced sideways at Evans and then nodded. ‘It was brought to our attention, yes.’
‘Have all the project team been required to sign confidentiality agreements when they’re employed?’
‘Yes.’
‘And I’m presuming you or someone else silenced the media?’
‘We’re under strict instructions from the top.’
‘Right.’ Dan flipped open the Environmental Impact Statement, the highlighted section even brighter in the sunlight that broke through the window blinds. ‘Have either of you seen this before?’
Porchester reached out and took the document from Dan, flicked open his reading glasses, and peered at the page. ‘I believe I was sent a copy of this after it was approved, yes.’ He handed the document to Evans, glanced at his watch, and frowned. ‘Dan, I’m sorry, but I have another meeting to go to in less than thirty minutes. What is it you wanted to see me so urgently about?’
‘There’s a case of caesium-137 missing.’
‘What?’
Dan pointed at the open page. ‘This. It’s gone.’
‘How do you know?’
‘There’s no mention of it in the police inventory report relating to the crime scene.’
‘What is it?’
Dan leaned across the table and picked up the glass of water in front of him, turning the tumbler in his fingers before speaking. ‘It’s a radioactive isotope.’
He took a sip and peered over the rim of the glass at the men in front of him as their expressions changed from one of disbelief to fear.
Porchester paled. ‘How much?’
‘Enough to build a dirty bomb.’ Dan pushed the glass away.
‘What the hell is a drilling crew doing with radioactive material?’ asked Evans, his brow furrowed.
‘Calm down,’ said Porchester. ‘I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation – right, Taylor?’
Dan turned to him. ‘They only use a small amount at a time. It’s a common fracking method,’ he explained. ‘It’s used to calculate the composition of gas and water underground. The gamma rays from the isotope act like an X-ray and show the drillers what composition the soil and rock they’re working with has.’
‘And we let them do this?’
Dan shrugged and pointed at the report. ‘It’s on all the Environmental Impact Statement issued for approval by Government.’
‘Jesus Christ.’ Evans slumped back into his chair and ran his hand over his receding hair line. ‘How were they able to steal it? I mean, they couldn’t simply walk out with it, could they?’ He turned to Porchester for assurance, but the other man shook his head.
‘The isotope is signed out to a single member of the drilling team, not the contracted company,’ explained Dan. ‘It’s kept in a concrete and lead-lined container.’ He flicked through the copy investigation notes. ‘Needless to say, the container was missing when the bodies of the drilling team were found.’
‘What I don’t understand is why the drilling team took the whole consignment with them that day,’ said Evans. ‘Surely they wouldn’t normally do that.’
‘That’s correct, sir. I’d have to suggest that they were cutting corners, trying to save time instead of going back to base before each test drill that day – according to the report I have, they were already three months behind schedule due to bad weather,’ said Dan. ‘The other possibility is that someone on that drill team was involved in the theft.’
‘But all the members of the team were killed,’ argued Porchester.
Dan pushed across his sketch from that morning and explained his findings against the preliminary ballistics report. ‘I think the third man was the initial shooter. He killed the project manager and the lead engineer. Then he was shot by whoever turned up in the rogue vehicle.’
Porchester’s eyes widened. ‘You mean to say he was killed by his own people?’
Dan shrugged. ‘No honour amongst thieves, sir.’
Evans leaned back in his chair and exhaled. ‘Any idea where this bomb might go off?’
‘There’s nothing in the documentation I’ve seen. I’ll leave that part of the investigation to you,’ said Dan pointedly.
Porchester pushed his chair away from the desk and began to pace. ‘All right, Dan. This is what I want you to do. Get yourself up to Northumberland and speak to the client representative there. We’ll phone ahead to arrange access to all their files.’ He tugged at his tie. ‘Jesus H. We were assuming the men were shot by environmental extremists or something.’ He pointed at the EIS. ‘Find out how much is missing and why this is the first time we’re hearing about it.’ He glanced at the open diary in front of him. ‘You’ve got forty-eight hours.’
‘Onto it, sir.’
CHAPTER 13
Dan drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and glared through the windscreen at the traffic jam in front of him.
The motorway was in a constant state of disrepair, with one section being completed only for another road works project to start five miles further north, and he was fed up with the stop-go rhythm of the journey.
He glanced at his watch. Four hours had passed since he’d left London, enjoying the freedom of driving a powerful sedan as he’d sped past Northampton, the stereo system blaring out a mix of classic 1970s and ’80s rock music.
Th
e novelty had worn off forty miles north of Leeds.
He swore under his breath and keyed in a string of commands into the car’s GPS, frowning as he tried to fathom a way off the motorway and keep on schedule.
As the traffic crawled towards the next intersection, he swung left out of his lane and steered the sedan up the slip road, leaving the bedlam behind him.
After the concrete spaghetti loops of the motorway junction disappeared in the rear view mirror and the car picked up speed once more, he’d relaxed and concentrated on powering through the twisting curves that led across the Yorkshire moors towards the north-east.
He glanced down as his phone began to ring in its cradle, Sarah’s apartment number splayed across the front of it.
‘Hey.’
‘Hi,’ she said. ‘Where are you?’
Dan caught a fleeting glimpse of a sign as it flashed by. ‘Almost at Durham.’
‘Traffic bad, huh?’
‘Yeah. I’m not going to make it to Northumberland tonight,’ he said. ‘I’ll find a motel or something within the hour. Drive straight to the project office in the morning. What’s happening there?’
‘Your friends were still parked outside until a couple of hours ago. Haven’t seen them since.’
‘Is that so? Huh.’ Dan scratched his chin. ‘You’ve locked the door, right?’
‘Yes. I’ll keep the answering machine on when I pick up the phone too. Just in case.’
‘Good.’
‘What did they say when you went to the office? Did they know about the theft?’
‘No – I don’t think so. They looked shocked, that’s for sure.’ He smiled. ‘They weren’t too pleased that news of their secret project got out either.’
Sarah chuckled. ‘I’ll bet.’
Dan grew serious. ’That’s why you have to stay there until I get back, okay? No going to work or even to the shops.’ He frowned when the silence stretched out between them. ‘Sarah?’
She sighed. ‘Yes. I hear you.’
Three Lives Down (A Dan Taylor thriller) Page 7
