we’ll let you get back in your little Fiat. You can make your delivery and as long as you’re honest we’ll pretend like this little stop-and-search never happened.’
‘If the Brigands found out we’d grassed, they’d kill us,’ Nigel said warily.
‘They won’t,’ McEwen said. ‘As long as you’re not economical with the truth.’
‘So what’s the other option?’ Nigel asked.
McEwen cracked a big smile. ‘Like I said, we’re not really interested in busting a couple of teenage couriers. So what we’ll do is, we’ll confiscate your guns as evidence. Then we’ll keep you here for five or six hours and escort you back to Salcombe in the Fiat.’
It took a few seconds for the implications of this to hit the two young suspects. ‘They’ll think we stole the guns,’ Nigel blurted. ‘Or at the least they’ll torture the shit out of us trying to find out what happened.’
McEwen laughed. ‘You can tell them about me,’ he grinned. ‘How you were arrested by a secret agent, who took you to a secret location and then let you off with no charge whatsoever. I’m sure they’ll believe you.’
Nigel pressed his hands against his head. ‘They’ll never believe that story.’
McEwen raised his eyebrows. ‘You think, buddy?’
‘This is outrageous,’ Julian sighed. ‘In a democratic society …’
Nigel turned sharply towards his friend. ‘Stop going on about your rights. This isn’t A-level sociology, you dick.’
‘I’m a dick?’ Julian spluttered indignantly. ‘Did I set this up? I must be mad getting involved in this just to pay off a two-hundred-quid debt.’
‘Ladies,’ McEwen said firmly. ‘Stop bitching and whining. It’s decision time.’
‘Can I get a tissue or something?’ Julian asked, as he pinched his bloody nose.
‘It’s all down to me really,’ Nigel said, as he looked at Julian. ‘I set it up, he’s just driving me as a favour.’
‘Like I give a shit about you two,’ McEwen said. He tossed Julian a couple of tissues and pulled out a tape recorder. ‘Are you ready to start answering some questions?’
Julian dabbed his nose as Nigel nodded reluctantly. ‘Like we’ve got a choice in the matter,’ he grunted.
‘OK, we’ll take it from the top,’ McEwen said. ‘Speak slowly into the tape recorder. Spell out any difficult names and remember if you tell me any pork pies I’ll be paying you another visit. Who first contacted you asking you to deliver the guns?’
28. RUN
Saturday
The run to the Rebel Tea Party in Cambridge was due to leave the Brigands clubhouse at nine. By 8:40 residents who’d paid between one and three million for their Marina View apartments were waking up to bright sunshine and a hundred motorcycle engines.
The beginning of a run was a spectacle. Riders made last-minute checks on oil and tyre pressure, while a few with problems made adjustments in the Leather and Chrome workshop. Girlfriends and kids said goodbye, some waiting to wave the run off, others boarding one of the three coaches packed with luggage, booze and barbecue equipment.
Dante, Lauren and Chloe had driven out to see James off. James was excited, but also a little scared. He’d never ridden a bike over a long distance and he urgently needed to start making connections with older bikers if he was going to be of any use to the mission.
While James wandered off to report to the Brigands road captain and get his place in the running order, Lauren spotted Joe standing in the middle of the Brigands bikes with his parents. The Führer looked like he always did, except his long leather coat had been swapped for a shorter version more suited to riding on a hot day. But Joe’s mum had transformed from her usual Marks and Spencer cardigans into a biker chick. She wore a leather jacket with Property of South Devon Brigands on the back, a Lycra top that finished several inches above her flabby stomach, tight fitting jeans and red stiletto heels.
‘You look amazing,’ Lauren gushed.
‘Embarrassing, more like,’ Joe scoffed.
The Führer kissed his wife before giving Joe a friendly swipe around the back of the head. ‘She’s the most beautiful girl in the world.’
Lauren smiled at Marlene. ‘Do you always go on the runs?’
‘Never missed one,’ she grinned, as she gave Joe a huge kiss. ‘Even when I was pregnant with this little yobbo.’
‘Mum,’ Joe complained, frantically wiping lipstick off his cheek. ‘I’m outta here.’
Marlene wagged her finger in Joe’s face. ‘Your brother is in charge and don’t you dare start fighting with him or you’ll be spending the next run at your grandma’s house.’
‘I’ll be