FISHES
Chairwoman Zara Asker had cooked her Sunday roast, but instead of eating it with her family she’d had to drive to the RAF airfield near CHERUB campus and take a small jet down to Exeter.
Chloe met her in the terminal and they drove to a conference room she’d booked at short notice in a nearby hotel. As one of CHERUB’s most junior mission controllers Chloe was nervous around her boss.
‘Ross Johnson can’t make it,’ Chloe explained as they walked across a sunny car park and into the hotel’s bland lobby.
Zara wasn’t in a good mood. ‘If I can make it all the way from campus when I’m seven months pregnant, why the hell can’t he get from London?’
‘He’s in Cambridge,’ Chloe said. ‘He’s got the press on his back after the Tea Party riot.’
‘So who is here?’
‘Ross’ deputy, an Inspector named Tracy Jollie.’
‘And she’s cleared to know about the CHERUB operation?’ Zara asked.
‘We cleared the three,’ Chloe said. ‘Ross Johnson, who knew about CHERUB already, Neil Gauche and Tracy Jollie. The rest of Ross’ team know about the fake weapons buy, but not about the CHERUB operation.’
Zara nodded as they turned out of the lobby and began walking down a long corridor lined with the closed doors of banqueting suites.
‘This was the only place I could find near to the airport at short notice,’ Chloe explained.
‘I’m sure it’s fine,’ Zara said, sensing Chloe’s nerves. ‘What about the three kids? How are they taking the news of the police raid?’
‘Lauren and James have been on enough missions to expect things to go wrong, Dante’s more of a worry. He has such a big personal investment in this mission. He really wants to see the Führer go to prison.’
The conference room had windows overlooking the runway of Exeter’s small airport and all the standard features: long table, overhead projector and flip chart, plus a plate of biscuits and a Thermos of hot water for making drinks.
Everyone had waited more than forty minutes for Zara. Neil and McEwen still hadn’t slept and stayed alert by pouring sachets of Nescafe coffee granules on to their tongues. Lauren sat with her head slumped on the desk, while James and Dante had built a tower out of miniature UHT milk cartons.
Zara came in and quickly shook hands with Tracy, then sat at the head of the table.
‘OK,’ Zara said, as she pulled in her chair. ‘What do we know about these police raids? How and why did they happen?’
Police inspector Tracy Jollie began to answer. ‘I’ve been on the phone with the Chief Constable for Devon and I’ve met with the inspector who ordered this morning’s raid. Last night Neil and McEwen watched four men unloading weapons from the trawler Brixton Riots. One of the crew was a young lad named Julian Hargreaves. Our teams dropped surveillance on him after he left the scene.’
‘Why?’ Zara interrupted.
‘Manpower,’ McEwen said. ‘It was me, Neil and Chloe. We chose to follow the weapons.’
Tracy continued. ‘It’s my understanding that Julian left his friend Nigel and then went to his home in the Marina View apartments. When Julian arrived he started thinking about what he was involved in and got worried about what the guns and weapons he’d smuggled would be used for.’
James had heard the story already and snorted dismissively. ‘Julian isn’t the kind of guy who lets his conscience keep him awake. It’s more likely that he smoked enough dope to scramble his brain, then got paranoid about getting nicked.’
‘Maybe,’ Tracy nodded. ‘It doesn’t really matter. What matters is that Julian decided to approach his father and confess to what he’d done. Jonty Hargreaves is a crown court judge with a background in criminal law. He set about doing what any father with a legal background would do, which was to find the best possible outcome for his son.
‘So the Honourable Jonty Hargreaves got Julian to write and sign a statement, explaining how he’d been dragged into the smuggling operation by Paul Woodhead in order to save his friend Nigel from a beating. Jonty then called his old friend the Chief Constable for Devon, and they carved up a deal.’
‘How did Julian know where the weapons were stored?’ Lauren asked.
‘Woodhead must have mentioned something when he was on the boat,’ McEwen suggested, before Tracy continued her story.
‘First thing this morning, Jonty and Julian presented themselves at the police station. Julian handed his written confession to an inspector hand-picked by the Chief Constable. Julian had admitted to a serious crime,