CHERUB: Brigands M.C. - Robert Muchamore Page 0,20
right.’
Ross grabbed a stapled paper index from his case before shuffling over the carpet on his knees so that he could see who Dante was looking at.
‘Are you sure?’ Ross asked as he looked up the index. ‘It says here that his nickname is Bolts. Real name Jonas Haarden.’
Dante nodded. ‘My dad saved him after some bike crash. He’s got metal bolts in his legs.’
Linda was impressed that Dante had kept his head together through a very upsetting morning. ‘So, Dante,’ she smiled. ‘These biker nicknames can change?’
‘Only if something big happens,’ Dante nodded. ‘Like if you were in a bad accident or you’re involved in some famous punch-up where you gouge out an eyeball or something.’
While Dante explained, Holly headbutted a pile of wooden bricks and Ross had his telephone at his ear, asking a police colleague to e-mail him a copy of any information on Jonas Haarden and get a warning put out to customs and traffic police to try and arrest him.
‘He tipped us off though,’ Donald pointed out, when Ross ended his call. ‘He must have been trying to warn us.’
‘Maybe,’ Ross said, ‘but I still want him in for questioning. He’s our best link to whoever leaked Dante and Holly’s whereabouts. And if he just wanted to tip you off, why ride all the way out here? Why not pick up the phone?’
‘My dad saved his life,’ Dante said. ‘He wanted to buy me a present and make me feel nice.’
‘I hope that’s true,’ Ross said. ‘But I’m sensing something under the surface.’
As Ross said this his mobile rang. Dante, Donald and Linda only heard Ross’ half of the conversation.
‘You’re kidding … No, wait. It’s sealed I think … Shit! OK, OK, I’ll call you right back.’
‘Something the matter?’ Donald asked, as Ross slid his phone shut.
‘Where are the toy cars Doods bought?’ Ross said urgently.
‘In the hallway,’ Dante said. ‘I was gonna open them, but the policeman told me to leave them in the box because you might want them dusted for fingerprints.’
‘We’ve got to leave the house, right now,’ Ross said.
Linda was first to work out what was going on. ‘Are you saying there’s a bomb in my house?’
‘There’s a chance,’ Ross said, standing up. ‘Maybe only a slim one, but I’m not risking it.’
Donald scooped up Holly as Linda led the way out on to the front doorstep. Always a mum, she made sure the two kids had warm coats as they skirted around Dante’s gift and walked between the two cars down the front driveway.
‘My colleague will call the local cops,’ Ross explained. ‘They’ll cordon off the road and bring in a bomb disposal team. They should be here within twenty minutes.’
‘Why do we think it’s a bomb all of a sudden?’ Dante asked.
Ross explained. ‘Doods, Bolts, or whatever you choose to call him was a member of the Brigands’ Rotterdam chapter. They had a nasty little turf war with two other gangs, which ended when a clubhouse blew up and fourteen members of the rival gangs got blasted. Doods was implicated in the bombing. He’s on the Dutch police’s most wanted list and nobody’s seen or heard from him in over a year.’
‘But why go to the bother of a bomb?’ Donald asked, as Holly yanked his ear.
‘A bomb gives the killer time to put space between himself and the victim,’ Ross explained. ‘You can trigger a bomb by text message from the other side of the world.’
*
Donald and Linda Graves’ six-bedroom house was in one of the best streets in Guildford. The neighbours were mostly wealthy, with two nice cars on the driveway, two or three brats and breadwinners who paid their mortgages with well-paid jobs in London.
This comfortable lifestyle jarred with the experience of most kids fostered by Donald and Linda. Over the years kids in their care had been blamed – usually correctly – for everything from vandalising street signs to lobbing fireworks at a show-winning chihuahua.
However, in more than thirty years of fostering Dante was the first kid who’d led to the entire street being cordoned off pending the arrival of a four-man bomb disposal team. They came with sirens and orange lights. Two soldiers drove an army-green Land Rover, followed by a truck with riot mesh over the windscreen.
Ross explained the situation, out of earshot of the gaggle of surprised pensioners evacuated from neighbouring homes and two sweaty women who’d arrived back from tennis. It was school time, so Dante was the only kid around.