“I didn’t know you’d looked into it,” Stephen said, looking at me with his eyebrows raised.
“I was curious,” I said with a shrug. “Anyway, I had better luck with Mickey. He’s not interested in tech or hacking either, but he said he suspected it was Alistair.”
“Alistair? The fourteen-year-old? Really?” Stephen looked distinctly sceptical, and I was reminded of his mistrust of any information Mickey gave us. Which was a valid mistrust, to be fair, but he was the best we’d got right now.
“I believe him,” I decided. “You didn’t see how Alistair was around the gang, Steph. He wasn’t being pushed around or anything. He seemed like one of them. Respected. Even Jules seemed to, I don’t know, listen to him, even though Alistair is half his size. There’s something about that kid.”
“We don’t know that he hasn’t been coerced, though.”
“No, I know. But I got a strong feeling that he’s perfectly willing to be there.”
Stephen hummed, accepting my words but not necessarily agreeing. “Do you wanna try the other kids, just in case?”
“Aye, it’d be good to have a second opinion.”
We didn’t have the contact details of too many of the other kids, but the ones we had managed to pick up and bring to the station, like Tiger and the kids who went joyriding a while back, we did call. The teenagers generally wouldn’t talk to us, and the parents all said they didn’t think their child was particularly into coding or working with computers. Still, they were teenagers, so most of them had a good grasp of technology.
“They have it easy, growing up alongside tech,” Stephen grumbled when I said this. “We had to learn it all from scratch.”
“I dunno what you mean, old man,” I said with a grin.
“Oh shut up, you’re really not that much younger than me.”
I chuckled at him, and he gave me a light push, which made me grimace. I admittedly partly exaggerated just to see the look on his face, but at least part of it was real.
“Aw hell, sorry. I forgot you’re still all banged up.”
“Just what I need, more bruises, thanks.” I grinned at him, though, letting him know I didn’t really mind.
We settled back into work, Stephen sifting through some more messages that’d popped up on the chat and me trying to find anything on Alistair that could confirm what Mickey had claimed.
“Hey, look at this.”
“Hm?” I turned to see what Stephen was talking about, and he gestured at the screen which showed the teenagers’ messages. I scanned over them, noting that the time stamp said that they were from minutes ago, and my eyes widened when I saw what they said.
“A pickup,” Stephen said, sounding both excited and grim at the same time. “What kind of pickup? That’s my question.”
“Aye, there’s no answer to that,” I said absently as I continued to read the texts over. “It could be anything, from this. Is there even a location?”
“Not yet. Maybe they’ll post it soon.”
I rubbed my chin, which was coarse with bristles I should’ve shaved off this morning, but I’d slept in and ran out of time. Something sat uneasily with me about the messages. They didn’t read right, somehow, but I couldn’t pinpoint exactly what was making me wary.
“I don’t like this,” I muttered.
“What? You don’t like that we haven’t got a location? I mean, me either, but maybe you can ask Mickey about it.”
“No, no, that’s not what I meant. It doesn’t feel- I don’t know. What if this new messaging site is, like, a decoy? A trap? Something they set so they could know if we really were watching them or something. This ‘pick up’ is so vague, it doesn’t really fit with their crimes so far. We’ve had no reason to think they’re running drugs or anything, so what are they picking up exactly?”
“If it was a trap, wouldn’t it be specific? Like the date, place and time made clear so that they could watch the space, you know? See if we show up.”
“Good point. Maybe that’s still to come, and they’re spreading it out.”
“The site does seem quieter than the previous one, though,” Stephen admitted. “It does feel like… maybe they don’t trust it anymore.”
“Aye, aye, that’s what I meant.” I gave a firm nod, glad that he understood.
With no immediate answers forthcoming, we took a break to grab some more coffee. It was still uncomfortably warm, so taking ten minutes to drink iced tea in the shade outside was blissful, even if the light breeze was only sluggish.
The news had been full of talk about drought worries, farmers’ crops getting scorched, talk of a hosepipe ban, and how many people were in the hospital for heatstroke. The usual news had been briefly buried under a deluge of problems the unusually hot weather was causing, and I looked up at the bright blue sky as I thought about it, wondering when the weather would break and rain would arrive.
“Looking for inspiration from up there?” Stephen teased gently.
“Not yet.” I smiled slightly. “Though I wouldn’t refuse some answers if they wanted to come my way.”
“C’mon, let’s give your boy another call, and maybe he can tell you something, eh?”
So I called Mickey again.
“A pickup?” he repeated after I’d explained what we needed to know. “Uh, I don’t know.”
“Really?” I pressed.
There was a brief silence where I could hear Mickey breathing.
“Maybe I heard something, but they’d know it was from me if I told you.”
“You’re sure of that?” I said. “They must have told multiple people what was happening, wouldn’t they?”
“I don’t know. I mean, it was meant to be just a couple of people.” He sounded hesitant and unsure of himself.
“Alright, well, how about you tell me what you know, and we can decide whether to act on it or not? We don’t want to put you in any danger, either, okay?”
Finally, after a stretch of silence long enough to make me doubt whether Mickey was even on the phone anymore, he spoke.
“It’s petrol. They’re picking up petrol.”
“From where?”
“A garage, I don’t know, it was called Michaelson’s or something. One of the others works there.”
“The garage is giving them fuel?”
“No, they’re, y’know, taking it.”
“When are they stealing it?” I asked.
“Uh, tonight, I guess. It was going to be soon, anyway, but I wasn’t supposed to be there, y’know? They didn’t give me every detail.”
“Of course,” I reassured him. “Who did you hear this off, Mickey?”
“Jules was saying it, I guess.”
“Who was he telling?”
“Just a couple of the others.”
“In person?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“I want to hear all the facts, that’s all. When did you hear this?”
“I dunno,” he mumbled, which meant he’d known before today and hadn’t told me. I left a pointed pause.
“I thought we agreed you’d talk to me. What do you think they’re gonna do with that petrol?”
“Sorry,” he said, sounding sulky like a child.
I sighed. I couldn’t force Mickey to keep his word. I could threaten to take away the leniency I’d offered, I could scare him with what the gang might do to other people, or I could cajole him with thanks and talk of how we appreciated his help, but at the end of the day, it was Mickey’s choice. I’d laid our cards on the table, but it was up to him whether to side with them or us. Right now, he was trying to balance what we wanted from him with the gang’s demands, and he was just getting caught in the middle.
I wanted to tell him to get out of there entirely, to leave their influence and reclaim his regular life from before he ever got involved with them. To focus on his schoolwork, his friends, and enjoying the summer without any of this mess. But I knew Mickey wouldn’t listen if I tried that, he was already too
invested in the gang, and we did need an inside source. Our advances in this case had been significantly aided by what Mickey would tell us, and I didn’t want to lose that. Still, it didn’t mean I wasn’t conflicted about it or unaware of the risks.
“Keep us updated,” I said, accepting that Mickey wasn’t going to tell me anymore for today. “And thanks for the information, lad.”
He awkwardly said goodbye before hanging up, and I sighed.
“No good?” Stephen asked, returning from a trip to the loo.
“No, it was helpful. He told me what the pick up was and where, but he did know about it already, and he didn’t tip us off. Not a surprise to you, I’m sure, but I was hoping for better from him.”
“At least he gave us as much as he did,” Stephen said with a sympathetic expression. “What’re we looking at? Is it drugs?”
“Nope, petrol. From a garage called,” I checked my notes, “Michaelsons’, apparently.”
“Petrol, hell. What’re they gonna do with that, then?”
“Nothing we want them to be doing, that’s for sure,” I said before explaining in full what Mickey had told me.
“What do you want to do about it?” Stephen asked, his eyes on my face as he waited for an answer. “Are we staking the place out or…?”
“Aye, I think we need to,” I decided after a pause. “Maybe it’s a ruse, maybe it’s not, but we don’t want them getting their hands on any more fuel. Who knows what they’ll do with it?”
We needed to move carefully, though. Mickey had been cautious to tell me for fear of the gang knowing where the information was leaking from, and he was right. We had to be careful, making sure that the teens didn’t see us watching the place, or else there would be consequences for Mickey.
Seventeen
I knew Stephen’s dislike for staying after work hours, so I was fully prepared to do the stakeout at the garage on my own or with another officer. I could’ve handed it off to a couple of rookies, it was true, but I wanted to be there in the flesh and witness what happened first hand. I knew that otherwise, I’d be sat at home by my radio, waiting for a report on what had happened.
“Nah, I’ll be there,” Stephen said, surprising me. “I’ll work it out with Annie, and it’ll be manageable. I’ve not had a late night in a while, and she’s got a quieter week.”
“You sure?” I asked. At his nod, I gave him a slap on the shoulder. “Good, then. No-one I’d rather have by my side.”
Stephen grinned at me. “That’s alright then, ‘cus I don’t think you’ve got many other volunteers.”
“Hush, everyone loves me,” I tossed back, and he laughed.
For now, it was still the afternoon, and we had some preparations to do. Since the garage was apparently to be robbed, I would’ve been tempted to call up and let them know what was happening and that we’d be sitting outside the garage to keep an eye on things. But one of the lads from the gang worked there, and it was paramount that the information didn’t get leaked and for Mickey to get hurt because of it. So, we’d have to make sure that either the gang or the garage’s employees did not detect us.
“Did Mickey know a specific time? ‘Tonight’ is kind of broad,” Stephen pointed out.
“No, he didn’t know details. He overheard the conversation, apparently.”
“Darren, have you considered that he’s setting you up here,” he said slowly, clearly knowing what my reaction was going to be. “You wondered whether the website was a decoy, but have you considered that this information might be?”
“Aye, of course, I have.” I sighed. “But we’ve got to check, haven’t we?”
“And if it’s not a fake and the teens turn up to take the petrol? Do we burst in and break Mickey’s cover?”
I paused because it was a question I was unsure about. On the one hand, I definitely didn’t want any petrol getting into the gang’s hands, but if we pounced on another bunch of lackeys as we had with the patches, we’d end up worse than we were now. Mickey might be in danger, and we’d still have no evidence against the group itself.
“I think we only jump on them if Jules turns up, or Alistair, even. If it’s not them, we’ll leave it.”
“But the petrol? Are we really gonna let them-?” Stephen protested.
“I think we need to go and talk to Adams about that. My idea is, we let them take the fuel, but we put trackers on some of the cans if we can. That way, we find their headquarters, and we link Jules and Alistair to the fuel theft. Right?”
“How’re we going to get them on the cans, though? They’ll bring their own, won’t they?”
“Not necessarily. I think it would make more sense for them to take the garage’s own canisters, right? They’re not going to be drawing it from the pump like at a petrol station. Much more efficient for the teenager who works there to have already got the cans ready that the gang are going to steal, no?”
“Yeah, that tracks.” Stephen gave a slow nod. “But still, how will we get them stuck onto the garage’s cans without any of the employees noticing?”
“That… will be the tricky bit,” I agreed. “Look, we’ll go and pick up the trackers, if Adams even has any available for us, and I’ll explain the plan on the way over to the garage, okay?”
Stephen gave me a slightly bemused look. “Sure, boss. I hope your idea is good, though.”
“Aren’t they always?” I teased, laughing at Stephen’s raised eyebrows.
“Some of your ideas are the absolute worst,” he said emphatically. “Marching up to a bunch of teenage boys hyped up on Red Bull and steroids, for example, wasn’t your finest hour.”
“That was just because I didn’t have you around for back-up,” I said easily, though I was only half-joking.
Stephen rolled his eyes at me and gave a long-suffering sigh. With that, we got up, making our way over to see Keira to get hold of some trackers.
She waved us away towards another member of her team, who handled the actual tech getting handed out to officers. The trackers were even smaller than I expected, and I stowed them carefully in my pocket so they wouldn’t get lost. The tech guy assured us that they’d stick to the petrol cans, whether they were plastic or metal, and that they’d emit a signal for as long as the battery lasted, which was up a week under good conditions.
“That’s brilliant, thanks,” I told him before we headed out.
Leaving the stuffy station and heading into the hot sun outside made both of us scrunch up our faces and Stephen huffed, already complaining about his clothes.
“Did you bring any of your iced coffee?” he groaned as we got into the overheated car.
“Fraid not, but we can buy one on the way back?” I offered as I got the car started up and left the station car park.
“If that’s the great plan you were talking about, I am fully on board.” He grinned.
“It’s part of the plan,” I laughed. “And I’m glad you’re on board because this is the rest of it. We head over to Michaelson’s, but we get car trouble before we’re there, and it’s urgent, so we drop by-”
“This is why you wanted an undercover car, then?”
“Aye, for sure. We go in, you deal with the mechanics, I have a scope around and hopefully find the fuel cans to put the tracker on.” I gestured with my hand before putting it back on the wheel. “If I can’t find ‘em, I might have to ask if they sell fuel. We’ll improvise. How’s that sound to you?”
“Sounds better than any of my ideas.” He gave a shrug of his broad shoulders before checking the time. “Let’s go for it, the afternoon is getting on, and we need to be sorted before tonight, right?”
I sent him an amused look. “By sorted, d’you mean stocked up on snacks for the night?”
“A trip to the shops is essential stake-out prep, mate, don’t diss it.”
“Absolutely,” I laughed.
We reached the garage not long later. The place looked relatively upmarket and tidy, and I parked up outside. Most likely, th
e owner had no idea what their employee was planning for tonight, and I wondered who’d be taking the blame when the petrol had disappeared by tomorrow? If there were any security cameras, the teens would have to disable them, I thought, especially since they had yet to overlook a detail like that so far. It had all been run with precision and foreplanning, which made the whole situation more concerning.
I hadn’t decided on whether or not we should actually fiddle with the car to create a mechanical fault before Stephen had the genius idea to do something simple, like have the oil running low. Stephen and I could play at being idiots who’d forgotten to get that topped up, and I could have a hunt around for the petrol cans whilst Stephen played his part.
In the end, the thing came off about as well as I’d hoped for. The petrol canisters hadn’t been obviously lying around the place, but when I asked a mechanic about buying some fuel to take with me, he took me to them. Stephen called him over to ask about the car, and I got a couple of trackers onto the cans before he came back.
“Success,” Stephen sighed as we drove away, him at the wheel this time. I had smears on my hands from touching the cans, which I cleaned off on one of my handkerchiefs as we left the garage.
“Sure was. Now we keep our eyes peeled and hope for the best.”
Stephen held up a finger. “But before that, we get coffee.”
“Aye, my bad. Iced coffee first,” I said with a short laugh.
Stephen took us over to a drive-through to pick up something cold, sweet, and caffeinated, and I got one too. Sam’s iced coffee was far better, but I was running low on it and wanted to save some for this evening. Then tomorrow would be the weekend, and Sam and I could whip up some more of the addictive stuff.
Sitting in an unmarked car was ideal for watching the garage tonight, and there was no point in going back to the station after we’d visited Michaelsons’. So we parked up nearby, and I got on the phone to give Rashford a brief update on where we were and what we’d been up to.
“Keep me updated,” she said when I was done. “I need results, Mitchell. I know you’ve been injured, so if you need someone else to work with Huxley and take the brunt of the case whilst you’re-”
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