by J. D. Weston
“How would they of got to you?” asked Frank.
“It's not impossible that they have their own Reg,” said Harvey.
“Whoa there,” said Reg, “There's only one-”
“What about Mills and Cox?” said Frank.
“Larson saw us together in the manor house, sir,” said Melody. “We have to assume we’re known to them as well.”
“Where’s Larson now?” asked Frank.
“He’s off the A12, heading into Stratford. He’s being followed by Stimson’s tough guy.”
“His minder?” asked Frank.
“Yeah, we caught them having a breakfast meeting in the manor house, Larson, the goon and some woman.”
“A woman?” asked Frank.
“Yes, sir, an unknown,” said Melody.
“This is getting complex,” said Frank. “Come back to base, we’ll discuss.”
“Negative, Frank, we’re on the heels of Larson, and he’s heading somewhere he doesn’t want us to know about. We need to see what he’s up to, and who he’s with.”
“Stone, you’re aware that every policeman in East London is looking for you right now?”
“The story of my life, Frank.”
“Harvey, tell me straight,” began Frank. “Anything you want to tell us?”
“As it happens, Frank, yeah there is.”
“Go on, I’m listening.”
“I’d like to tell you I’m getting bored of having you poke your finger at me every time someone gets killed. We’re on this guy, and for the first time, he doesn’t know it. If I’m right and he’s been watching our every move then this is the first time he won't know we’re coming.”
There was a silence while Frank thought.
“Okay, go,” said Frank. “I’ll be watching you all, and remember, we don't want any action, we’re just observing.”
“How come every time the boss tells Harvey and Melody to just observe, all hell breaks loose?” said Reg.
“Not this time, Tenant,” said Frank. “I’m holding you accountable. If you see or hear anything that deviates from my orders, I want to know, and you’ll be just as guilty as they are.”
“Ah guys, look what you did,” said Reg. Melody and Denver smiled at his remark.
“Sir?” said Melody.
“Go ahead.”
“The manor house.”
“What about it?” asked Frank.
Melody nodded for Harvey to explain.
“It’s the perfect place to hold an auction of a priceless artefact. It’s surrounded by miles of green, has no underground tunnels, and if they have airborne security, the chances of an airborne getaway are even slimmer,” said Harvey.
“What are you saying?” asked Frank.
“I’m saying that the place is impossible to rob.”
“Good, we might actually catch them then. If Larson is heading into town, he might be meeting the crew. It sounds like the breakfast was a recce, and he’s pulling the team together now.”
“Agreed, sir,” said Melody.
“Okay, stay on them, report back and don't deviate.”
“Copy that, sir,” said Melody.
“Okay, Larson and the goon have both stopped at a warehouse in Stratford,” said Reg. “There’s nothing more conspicuous than a gloomy East London warehouse, right?”
“Send us the location, Reg,” said Denver.
“You’re looking at Tutbury Lane, it’s off-”
“I know it, I know the warehouses too,” said Denver. “You got a unit number?”
“Not yet, I’m zooming in, looks like it’s the end unit of the first row, facing the main road.”
“Any cars outside?” said Harvey.
“There’s a few, looks like it’s a busy place maybe a mechanic’s garage. You can park on the road outside and see in through the fence. Don't drive in, it’s a dead end, and probably full of yardies.”
“Copy that, Reg,” said Denver. “Thanks for the heads up.”
“So what do you reckon about you having a bit of competition, Reg?”
“What do I reckon about what?”
“Competition, Reg. You know, whoever it is Larson has tracking our phones. Sounds like you might have some competition.”
“Oh come on, any fool can track a phone,” said Reg. “I mean if they were that good, I’d know about them.”
“You sure about that?” asked Harvey. Harvey rarely got involved in the banter with Reg, but it was fun, and the team needed a lift in morale. “I mean, they must be pretty good to first of all, find out where I lived, hack my phone, and get my name.”
“Child’s play, Harvey, child’s play.”
“That gives me an idea,” said Melody. “If we turned Harvey’s phone on, could you see if it was being tracked and from where it was being tracked?”
“You’re talking to the master, Melody.”
“Okay, when this is done, and we’re out of Stratford, you can have a go. We might find out where they’re working from.”
“Good call, nerd warfare,” said Denver. “In the meantime, we’re nearly there. Get yourselves set up. There’s a shop over the road from the warehouses, we can park outside it and watch the play.”
Denver reversed up onto the pavement and killed the engine. They had a perfect view across the road at the front of the warehouse. Melody set up her DLSR and zoom lens. Harvey used the scope. They both watched, but nothing happened.
“I don’t see the BMW anywhere,” said Melody.
“Inside maybe?” said Denver, who was keeping watch for passers-by, to make sure nobody looked in and saw the big camera and sighting scope. In East London, if someone saw a van parked up with surveillance taking place, the word would get around like wildfire that the police were closing in on something. A block of flats stood a few hundred yards away and would have been home to countless drug dealers, stolen goods, and probably hookers. It wasn’t the nicest part of Stratford, and in those parts, people were street savvy.
“I’m going to take a closer look,” said Harvey. He pulled his jacket on and slid the door open.
“Harvey, no. You heard Frank,” said Melody.
“Harvey, don't do it,” said Reg over the comms. “I’d have to get Frank, and he won't be happy.”
“Give me five minutes,” said Harvey. “If I’m not back, call it in, tell him I’ve been a bad boy.”
“Oh Jesus, why is it every time we try and do something, we have to step off the line?” said Melody.
“Because staying on the line is not going to get us anywhere is it, Melody?” said Harvey. “Look across the road, the doors are shut. They’re hardly likely to leave them open and let us watch them planning a robbery are they?”
“Even so, Harvey, we need more intel, and how we get intel is by being patient and planning. That’s your mantra, right?”
“Yeah, that's right, Melody, it’s what I live my life by.”
“So why do you go off it all the time?”
“Because sitting here isn’t going to give us a plan. Me going over there and taking a look will give us the intel we need to create a plan.”
“Guys, guys, stop,” said Denver. The shutter doors of the warehouse slid back a few metres, and the goon stepped out. Melody grabbed her camera and started to snap away. Harvey climbed back into the van and slid the door shut. The goon walked along the small lane outside the row of warehouses and checked the cars, then walked back to the shutter door and slid it open.
“He’s checking the road’s clear,” said Melody. “Somebody’s coming out.”
The shutter door slid open further, and there in front of the team was a the rear end of a ten-year-old black taxi.
Sitting beside the taxi was the black BMW. The BMW’s reverse lights came on as soon as the shutter doors were fully open and the big saloon reversed out onto the concrete. The goon pulled the doors closed again. The screech of metal on metal carried across the road to the van.
“Did you see that?” asked Mel
ody.
“Yeah, that’s not good,” said Denver.
“When that BMW pulls off, I’m going in,” said Harvey.
“Harvey, what is it you expect to see in there?” said Melody.
“Answers.” Harvey checked his Sig and slid it into his cargo pants. “I’ll just have a look around, give us a head start.”
“Remember, Harvey, you know I’ll have to call this in don’t you?” said Reg over the comms. “The big guy’ll fry me if you go in.”
“Are you a grass now, Reg?”
“Oh, please don’t make me be the bad guy,” whined Reg.
“The BMW is on the move,” said Denver. He started the van and reversed it up behind the wall so it was completely out of sight.
“That’s Larson. The goon is leaving too,” said Reg. “How big is he? Is he as big as the last guy?”
“Bigger, I’d say, reminds me of Julios.”
“And Julios was your teacher from killing school, right?” said Reg.
“Julios was my best friend, he taught me a lot of things.”
“Yeah but he also taught you how to kill, didn’t he?” said Reg. “My teachers just taught us maths and the gross domestic produce of some place I’ll never go to.”
“Reg, I get the impression you’re lonely in there on your own,” said Melody, breaking up the dead-end conversation.
“I’m not on my own, Melody, I’ve got Chief Inspector fun buckets sitting upstairs waiting for me to call him as soon as Harvey does something wrong.”
“So you are a grass then?” said Harvey. “You know what they do to grasses in prison, Reg?”
“I’m guessing they don’t get extra food?”
“You’re right, but they do get a nice little cuddle in the evening,” said Denver.
“That sounds nice,” said Reg.
“You should try it,” said Harvey. “I can even arrange it for you if you keep on going the way you are.”
“Changing the subject, the BMW and the goon have left. They both turned left out of the warehouse compound. Are we going after them, or are we getting into trouble?” said Reg.
Harvey had slid the door open and had one foot out on the concrete.
“Harvey, get back in the van, we can come back,” said Melody. “That's an order, let's go back to HQ, regroup and reassess. If you really want to get back here, we’ll do it at night, on my terms, and I’ll even come with you, but we need to brief Frank.”
Harvey paused, and looked across at the garage. “I’ll hold you to that, Melody Mills,” said Harvey, sliding the side door of the van closed. “If Larson wants me out of the picture so much, he won't stop now. He couldn’t get me arrested, and he couldn’t kill me the first time, but who’s to say he won't try again?”
13
Showed Hands
Reg hit the button shortcut on his keyboard to open the shutters for the van to pull in. He closed it again and stood to pop the rear door open for Harvey.
“Hey, team. I missed you guys.”
Harvey climbed out, stretched his arms upward, then folded to touch his toes. He clung to his feet for a few seconds, then slowly eased himself up, releasing a long breath. Reg looked on aghast.
“If I tried that, I’d get stuck and end up staring at my crotch for the rest of my life.”
Harvey didn't reply.
Frank called down from the mezzanine, “Debrief, let's go.”
The team didn’t reply. Instead, they walked up to the meeting room and took up their usual positions. Reg sat on the couch, Denver sat on the arm of another couch, Melody stood by the coffee machine, waiting for it to finish filling the pot, and Harvey leaned on the wall by the door.
Frank stood by the whiteboard at the head of the room.
“Welcome back, team. Things are moving. What did we learn? The manor house?”
“Perfect for auctioning a priceless artefact,” said Melody. “With the right security, there’s little chance of it being robbed by a small team. The place is full of expensive art, Caravaggio, ancient pottery. You could use the frames of some of the painting's alone as a house deposit. Do we know how the buddha is being transported?”
“Not yet, there’s no talk of it at all, it might already be in the country. Did you see the vault?”
“No, sir. We were preoccupied with Larson and his crew,” said Melody.
“Okay, Larson. Tell me what you know.”
“The photo’s accurate, he hasn't changed his appearance. The phone we are tracking is correct, plus we bugged and chipped his car.”
Frank turned to Reg. “Tenant, anything on the bug?”
“Not a bean, I pulled a WAV file from it and literally all we have is road noise. He hasn’t uttered a word.”
“Okay, who was he with?”
“Big guy, still an unknown, Stimson’s minder.”
“Another big man? Is he going to be a problem?” asked Frank to Harvey.
The team looked across to Harvey who rolled his eyes. “No, probably not.”
Melody grinned.
“Are we tracking the big guy?” asked Frank.
“We have his phone,” said Reg.
“Yeah, when they left the manor house they split into three cars,” began Melody. “Larson took an Audi, the goon took the BMW, and the woman was picked up in a little red Porsche. The only one who isn’t on LUCY is the woman.”
We tailed Larson, but the goon was hanging back so we couldn't get close. That was when we got pulled over, sir,” said Denver.
“Okay, so stop there, before we go any further.” Frank began to write on the board. “Manor house is perfect for an auction but almost impossible to rob. In my mind that makes it an ideal target for Stimson, he’ll be all over that. You agree with that, Stone?”
Harvey didn’t reply.
“Good. Larson isn’t running the show, he’s a puppet, a powerful puppet. Would you agree with that Stone?”
Harvey didn't reply.
“What if Larson is running the show?” said Melody. “How can we be sure that-”
“If Larson was there with Stimson’s minder, I would imagine the minder is Stimson’s eyes and ears. There’s no way he’s going to go to the manor house he’s about to rob to have breakfast with the team he’s getting to rob it.” Frank paused. “Would you agree with that at least, Stone?”
“I agree with what you’re saying, Frank, you don't need to ask. Trust me, when I don't agree you’ll know about it.”
“No ambiguity there then. Stone, if you were robbing a priceless buddha from the manor house, how would you go about it?”
“I thought about that. The vault is probably underground, there’ll be a heavy security detail, but the buddha isn’t there yet-”
“How you can so sure?”
“We could have walked out with any one of those paintings or pots with a toy knife. There was a poncy butler on the door, and no cameras. If I was Stimson, I’d take it in transit. Failing that, I’d wait until the place was empty of the public, which I’m sure it will be on auction day, and full of men that are collectively worth more than a small country. Men who have everything to lose and cash to pay for their lives.”
“Hostages?”
“Yeah, hostages. I’d go in armed, hard and fast with enough men to cover the auction room while two or three more blow the vault. I’d stash the buddha inside the house, somewhere open to the public. If anyone gets caught, I’d make it look like the boys were stealing money from the rich buyers. The buddha would be hidden and not found on any person, and it can be picked up during a nice little breakfast with some friends a few weeks later when the whole thing has calmed down. If I was Stimson, I’d have found a few places behind wooden panelling or somewhere to stash the buddha.”
“You thought hard about that?”
“Yeah, there’s no possible way you’d get away with the buddha once the alarm has been raised, and there’s no way the crew would get away either. They’d get a few years for armed robbery and would
need paying off, but there’s a load of guys out there that would risk that for their families, and Stimson isn’t shy when it comes to spending money on something he wants. The crew will be lifers, men Stimson can trust, who know they will be looked after inside, and have their families looked after on the outside.
“No, he’s not afraid to splash the cash.” Frank gave Harvey’s plan some thought. “What about Stimson? Surely he wouldn’t be prepared to go away?”
“No he wouldn’t, not with dedicated men like that, he’d have an exit, he may even go in as a buyer. A bystander as it were.”
“Good analysis,” said Frank. “Tenant, see what you can find on the security for the manor house, any locals firms, mobs or whatever.”
Frank put Reg’s name beside the manor house on the whiteboard.
“Moving on, so you were pulled over by traffic police? I want the full story. Mills, go.”
“We were out of Braintree, heading for the A12, when the Volvo came from behind us. He gave two short blasts on the sirens and indicated for us to pull over-”
“First sign,” said Harvey.
“Denver got out of the van, and the policeman told him to put his hands on the vehicle, without explanation, then he cuffed and searched Denver.”
“Second sign,” said Harvey.
“I got out and showed him my ID, and he shoved me up against the van and cuffed me.”
“Third sign.”
“That’s when Harvey stepped out and gave himself up. He already knew Harvey’s name and had him up against the van with the cuffs in his hand. That was when-”
“That was when I was sure he was fake,” said Harvey.
“Why?”
“Two short blasts on the sirens on a quiet A-road? Not a traffic cop’s style, they keep them off unless the roads are busy or it’s high speed. The way he handled Denver, too rough, plus he gave no reason for the tug. He was rude and rough with Melody and cuffed her despite her ID and for no reason, then he knew my name.”
“You’re sure he knew your name?”
“Yeah, positive. Why would a white hat in the sticks know my name?”
“Because of the dead man in your bathtub?” asked Reg.
