by Alex Scarrow
A customer who had been waiting in line behind Jenny stepped forward. ‘Yeah, I just discovered that too,’ he said leaning on the cab controller’s counter beside Jenny. ‘Apparently there was some terrorist threat received this morning. That’s the rumour I heard, some sort of bomb threat.’
Jenny turned back to the controller. ‘There, see? That’s why I need a flippin’ cab. Did you know the coaches are out too?’
‘And the airports,’ added the man standing next to her. ‘There’ve been security alerts everywhere, it seems. There were tanks rolling up outside Heathrow I heard.’
The controller shook his head again. ‘Well, whatever. We only do a local service, love.’
‘Okay,’ replied Jenny digging into her bag to produce her purse, ‘how much then? A couple of hundred?’
‘No, look sorry, sweetheart, we can’t take you down to London.’
‘Would five hundred cover it?’ said the other man.
The controller looked at him with a sceptical frown. ‘You’ll pay five hundred pounds?’
He nodded. ‘Yup, I’ve got a meeting this afternoon I can’t afford to miss. I’ll pay five hundred.’
The controller scratched his head. ‘O-o-okay, your money. I’ll see if we have a taker then,’ he muttered shaking his head with bemusement. He began talking over the radio.
Jenny turned to the man behind her. ‘Could we possibly share? I can pay half.’
The man, tall, slim, wearing a dark blue suit, the jacket carefully draped over one arm and the top button of his striped, office shirt unbuttoned, turned to look at her. She guessed he was in his mid-thirties, sensibly short dark hair, and glasses that looked as if they were at the cheaper end of the scale. Jenny thought he wouldn’t have looked out of place holding a mug of coffee and a doughnut in either a teachers’ common room, or standing, Magic Marker in hand, before a flip-pad in some ad agency’s creative mush-pit.
He pursed his lips as he considered the offer. ‘I need the cab to get me to Clapham. I’m not sure if—’
‘That’s fine,’ she replied quickly, ‘just as long as I can get to any tube station. I can get where I’m going from there.’
He tipped his head slightly, ‘Well I suppose so then, if you’re going to cover half.’
Jenny felt a small surge of relief. ‘Yes, I will. Thanks, I was beginning to wonder if I’d have to walk home,’ she added with a nervous chuckle.
‘You’re in a big hurry too?’
Jenny nodded. ‘I just . . . well, with things the way they are, I want to be home.’
He seemed confused by that. ‘The way what is?’
‘You know? The news. The riots.’
‘The riots? Do you mean that Middle East thing?’
She nodded.
‘Oh right. Yes, I suppose that’s a little worrying, especially if we’re now getting bomb threats over here. It’s really screwed up travelling today. But you know, hopefully it’ll all be back to normal again tomorrow, business as usual.’
The controller thanked the driver he’d been talking to and turned to them. ‘Yeah, all right I’ve got a driver who’ll do it later on this morning. But he wants the five hundred in cash, and wants to see it in your hand before he’ll take you.’
‘Oh God, thank you!’ Jenny sighed with relief. ‘Thank you.’
The controller shrugged. ‘It’s your money, love. Me, I’d spend the money on a nice hotel tonight and try my luck with the trains tomorrow.’
Trains tomorrow? Anything at all running tomorrow?
She wondered if she should just come out and say something like that. But then, she didn’t want to scare off the man standing beside her by sounding like some kind of nut.
‘I’m just in a really big hurry, all right?’ she said.
CHAPTER 24
9.45 a.m. GMT UEA, Norwich
He listened to the call connect, then a short electronic warbling as the digital encryption filter kicked in, then a voice, masked with a pitch filter answered.
‘Yes.’
‘I nearly had the target. But someone warned her at the last moment.’
‘Yes. We know this. She received a call from her father. He now suspects we may be after her.’
‘That makes things a little more difficult.’
‘Yes. The father gave her instructions to go to another location. He called it “Jill’s” place.’
‘Jill?’
‘Possibly a member of the family or a close friend. The target can be reacquired there.’
‘Were there any other details?’
‘No. We just have the name “Jill”.’
‘There’ll be something at the target’s home to identify this “Jill”.’
‘That is what we think too.’
‘Understood.’
‘Proceed quickly. Things will begin to disintegrate soon, you may lose her.’
The call disconnected.
Ash pocketed his phone and cast one last glance around the room. He had been tempted to set fire to the place, so that his tracks would be covered for a while. The body of the girl would be discovered, and a good forensic pathologist might discern that she was dead before she was burned. Under normal circumstances that would be a sensible tactical move. But given how things were going to be in a few days’ time, he was confident he’d not have to worry about the police following in his footsteps.
They were going to be far too busy to worry about one dead student.
As he stepped out into the stairwell, a young man passed by, casting a suspicious glance back at him as he descended the stairs.
Ash knew his appearance was incongruous. He looked completely wrong for this environment; too old, too smart, clearly not a student, and clearly with no business being here. The young man would undoubtedly tell somebody this morning, and someone would come knocking to see if everything was okay.
He let the lad go on his way.
Again, leaving a trail was of no concern to Ash. Right now his immediate priority was working out where Leona Sutherland was headed.
Next stop then, the Sutherlands’ home in Shepherd’s Bush. He knew the address off by heart - 25 St Stephen’s Avenue. Perhaps he might even catch her there, if she was silly enough to chance a quick visit to grab a change of clothes.
CHAPTER 25
11.37 a.m. GMT North Finchley, London
Leona instantly recognised the tree-lined gravel driveway that led up to the main school building, a stately stone structure that had, once upon a time in a previous century, been built amidst smoothly rolling green acres, but was now hedged in on all sides by suburbia. Tall, mature conifers kept the world outside from peeking in at the dozen or so acres of manicured grounds, sports fields and tennis courts.
Leona had come with her dad a few times to drop Jake off. His school tended to return a week or so before college, and Jake usually begged for Leona to come along too. She wasn’t sure whether that was because he wanted to spend as much time with her as possible, or because he enjoyed showing off his older sister to the lecherous and spotty boys in the years above.
‘Wow,’ said Daniel, ‘this is sort of like Hogwarts.’
‘Yup, and very expensive,’ she replied looking out of the window at the boys taking turns to volley over the net on the tennis courts to their left. The tennis coach shot a disapproving glance at the scruffy little Ford van as it coughed and crunched up the gravel drive.
‘You sure it’s okay for us to be here?’ he asked uneasily. ‘I mean school’s in session, aren’t we trespassing or something?’
Leona shrugged. ‘Don’t care. Dad asked me to get Jake out.’
Daniel parked the van in a visitor’s slot beside the imposing main entrance, sheltered by a grand-looking portico supported on two stone pillars. The last time she had seen Jake was six weeks ago, helping Dad to drag his trunk up the stairs and in through that entrance. The little monkey-boy had been doing his level best to look cool in front of all the other boys arriving in their p
arents’ lumbering Chelsea tractors. She knew he was holding the tears back and would probably blubber once Dad had placed the trunk at the end of his dormitory bed and was giving him a final goodbye hug.
Mum never came along when it was time to take Jake back; she’d be in tears, sniffling and beating herself up with self-reproach and parental guilt all the way up from Shepherd’s Bush, and then embarrass the hell out of Jake when it came time for hugs and kisses. Ironic really, Mum was the one who had worked the hardest to get him into this school, and yet was totally unable to deliver him come the start of each new term.
‘So what now?’
‘I’ll go in and see if I can find his housemaster,’ she replied. She turned to look at Daniel, dressed in his ripped jeans, and his FCUK T-shirt. ‘You’re probably best waiting here, okay?’
Daniel smiled with some relief. ‘Sure.’
After asking directions from a confounded and harried-looking young boy, who was clearly late for a class and flushed crimson as he spoke to her whilst staring, transfixed, at her pierced navel, exposed above the low waistline of her jeans, she eventually found the housemaster’s study. She knocked, and hearing a muffled acknowledgement coming from within, opened the thick, heavy wooden door and stepped inside.
A man in a scruffy brown suit jacket and dark trousers that were scuffed with chalk dust was standing over an untidy desk shuffling through a tray of papers.
‘Yes?’ he grunted, without looking up.
‘You’re Mr North, the housemaster?’ she asked.
Mr North looked up, and did a double take. ‘I’m sorry, who are you?’
‘Leona Sutherland. My brother’s in your house.’
‘Uhh, right well, you do know family visits are limited to specific weekends, don’t you?’
Leona nodded. ‘Of course. But I’m not really visiting.’
He stopped shuffling through his tray. ‘So then, how can I help you?’
‘I’m here to collect Jacob and take him home.’
Mr North frowned. ‘I don’t know anything about this. When was this arranged? Because I’ve not received any written approval from the Head. At least I don’t think I have. Let me just check my in-tray.’ He leant across his desk and started rummaging through another tray, full to overflowing with papers and envelopes yet to be opened.
Leona wondered whether she could take advantage of his apparent inability to keep abreast of his paperwork, and lie to him - make out that it had already been approved and he’d simply lost the letter.
‘I mean it’s possible that I just missed it,’ he continued, slightly flustered as he sorted through the haphazardly piled envelopes and notes, ‘and the approval’s in here somewhere. When did your parents write to me about this?’
Decision time . . . oh shit, I’m crap at lying.
‘They didn’t.’
Mr North looked up, a momentary confusion written across his face.
‘They decided this morning to take Jake out, and they sent me to collect him,’ Leona added.
The housemaster frowned and then shook his head. ‘No. I’m sorry. It doesn’t work that way. We need a written request from a pupil’s parents or legal guardians, and a very good reason given before we allow them to be taken out in the middle of a term.’
‘They have a very good reason, Mr North,’ replied Leona. ‘They both think the world’s about to come to an end.’
That sounded pretty bloody silly, well done.
Mr North stopped shuffling through his in-tray and looked up at her. ‘The riots?’
Leona nodded.
He came around from behind the desk and took a few steps towards her. ‘Your mum and dad aren’t the only ones.’ He lowered his voice ever so slightly. ‘I’ve already had two other parents call me this morning to ask if their sons could be taken out.’
‘And can they?’
He shook his head, ‘Only with written consent, and approval from the headmaster.’
‘Please, I really need to get my brother.’
The housemaster studied her silently for a moment. ‘I was watching the news last night. It does look very worrying. It does seem like the world went a little mad yesterday. I do wonder if there’ll be more going on today.’
‘I don’t know. But my dad’s in the oil business, and he’s the one who’s panicking.’
‘Why haven’t your parents come for him?’
‘Dad’s stuck in Iraq, and Mum’s stuck up in Manchester. They’ve stopped the trains and coaches.’
Mr North looked surprised. ‘Stopped the—?’
‘They didn’t say why. So it’s just me, and I need to get him.’
He nodded silently, deep in thought. ‘Look, I have to get to my lesson, I’m already late.’
Leona took a step forward. ‘Please!’
He studied her silently for a while, a long silence, punctuated by the sound of a clock ticking from the mantelpiece above a decorated Victorian fireplace. ‘Maybe your father’s right,’ he said quietly. ‘You can see the way this could possibly go.’
Leona nodded. ‘My dad thinks we’re going to be in really big trouble.’
‘I see.’
She offered him a wan smile. ‘That’s why I’ve got to get my brother.’
Mr North nodded. ‘Hmmm. It does seem really quite worrying. ’
‘Please,’ she said, ‘I have to get him. I’m in a hurry.’
He looked at her silently for a moment. ‘I can’t give you my permission to just walk in and take him without prior written consent. But,’ he said, ‘I can’t really stop you if I don’t know about it, can I?’
She understood and nodded a thank you.
‘Who’s your brother?’
‘Sutherland. Jacob Sutherland.’
‘Ahh yes, junior year two. I think you’ll find his class in C block, that’s the language wing.’
‘Thank you Mr North.’
‘You go and get him. And the first I’ll know about this is when we do our afternoon assembly roll call. Which means we haven’t met, all right?’
She nodded and then turned to go.
‘So,’ he said as she reached out and opened the door, ‘what advice do you think your dad would give us here at the school?’ he asked. ‘What advice do you think he would give me?’
Leona turned round. ‘Leave now. Get out of London before everyone else wakes up to this.’
‘I see.’
‘Goodbye,’ she said. And then as an afterthought, ‘Good luck.’
He smiled politely as she closed the door on him.
Leona looked up and down the wood-panelled corridor, and decided she might need Dan’s help.
‘No, see, this isn’t right Leona. I’m sure this is basically illegal. ’
‘No it isn’t, he’s my brother,’ she replied, craning her neck to look surreptitiously through the small window in the classroom door. Inside she could see a class of boys who looked a couple of years older than Jacob. ‘Shit, not in this one either.’
Daniel cast a wary glance up and down the hallway between the classrooms. ‘Look, it’s abduction isn’t it? Taking a minor like this?’ he muttered.
‘It’s not, we’re getting him on my mum and dad’s instructions. Come on,’ she waved him on, and they paced down the hallway towards the next pair of classroom doors.
‘Look, even if you find him, they won’t let you take him right out of the classroom.’
She stopped and looked at him, and smiled. ‘Which is sort of where you come in.’
‘What? How?’
‘If one of the staff stands in the way . . .’
‘What, you want me to knock ’em down?’
She nodded, ‘Well maybe not punch them or anything, just sort of push them aside.’
Daniel shook his head. ‘Look Leona, I think I’ve been pretty good so far this morning, driving you here and—’
She grabbed his wrist. ‘God, please Dan, just this last favour. I have to get him home.’
; He spread his palms. ‘Because here . . . what? He’s not safe?’
She led him up to another window, looked in briefly and saw instantly that they weren’t Jake’s age.
‘Look in,’ she said.
Dan shrugged and did as she asked. The boys inside were wearing headphones and repeating French phrases in unison.
‘So?’
‘So, you’ve been listening to the radio this morning. The trains and coaches have been quietly stopped and the army is coming home from abroad, and there’s no more oil coming in. And they,’ she gestured at the classroom door, ‘are still doing stupid French oral.’
Which seemed to strike him as pretty dumb, once put in that context.
‘Dad was right. Everyone’s standing around with their heads in the sand, just like he said they would, you know, if something like this happened,’ she added, trying to keep her voice down as it started to thicken with a mixture of anxiety and anger.
She jogged across the hallway to look through a door window on the far side. ‘Okay,’ he said following her across. ‘Just this last thing, then I’m heading back to—’
‘That’s Jake!’ she hissed, looking through the window. Without a second’s hesitation, she grabbed the handle and flung open the door.
The heads of thirty seven-year-old boys and the teacher, a lady who looked a few years younger than her mum, spun round to look at them.
The silence was broken by the teacher, ‘Yes?’
‘Jacob,’ she said ignoring her, ‘you have to come with me.’
Beneath his mop of curly blond hair, and behind the milk-bottle glasses, Jacob’s round eyes darted towards his teacher then back to Leona, whilst his jaw slowly dropped.
‘I’m sorry,’ said the teacher, ‘you can’t just burst in here and take one of my students.’
Leona continued to ignore her. She flashed a warning glance at Jake. ‘Now!’ she barked.
Jacob obediently began to rise from his seat.
‘It’s all right Jacob,’ said the teacher gesturing for him to take his seat again, ‘sit back down, there’s a good boy.’
