CHERUB: Class A - Robert Muchamore Page 0,70

detected. James checked the size of Keith’s documents folder and realised there was enough space on the memory card to copy the whole lot over. He waited a couple of anxious minutes while the computer copied Keith’s files. Then he switched off the laptop and walked back to his bedroom. He got his mobile out of his luggage and set it to search for an American network. When it found a connection, James speed-dialled the number of a local Drug Enforcement Agency office he’d been given before he left.
John Jones answered. ‘James?’
‘Hi.’
‘Settled in OK?’ John asked.
‘Not bad,’ James said. ‘You?’
‘My flight was fine, but the heat out here does me in. I’m more of a fish-and-chip-supper-on-a-cold-winter-night kind of guy.’
‘I can’t talk for long,’ James said. ‘But I’ve been through Keith’s laptop.’
‘Anything exciting?’
‘Dunno,’ James said. ‘I checked for fancy stuff, like hidden partitions on the hard drive, but there’s none of that. All Keith’s documents are encrypted. I didn’t want to fiddle about trying to open them. I’ve copied the whole lot on to a memory card for you guys to deal with.’
‘Good work,’ John said.
‘The only thing is, how do I get the card to you?’
‘We can arrange an unscheduled rubbish collection for this evening. Have you got something you want to throw out that you can hide the memory card inside?’
James looked around the room.
‘There’s a half-eaten box of Milk Duds I got at the cinema,’ he said. ‘I can stick the memory card inside that then throw it out.’
‘Perfect,’ John said. ‘Scrunch the box up, so the card doesn’t fall out. Then make sure you put your rubbish in the main bins out by the road. We’ll send a dustcart along to pick them up.’
‘Will you guys be able to break the encryption?’ James asked.
‘Depends what software Keith’s using,’ John said. ‘But probably. Is there anything else you’d like to report?’
‘One thing Keith said struck me as odd,’ James said. ‘I asked him when I’d be able to go back to making deliveries. Keith goes, I don’t know, everything’s gonna be different.’
‘Hmm,’ John said. ‘I’ve no idea why he’d say that, but it’s certainly interesting.’
‘I better go anyway,’ James said. ‘They’ll be wondering what I’m doing.’
‘OK then,’ John said. ‘Keep up the good work and watch out for yourself.’
28. ORLANDO
James was having one of the best weeks of his life. Monday he went out on a fishing boat with Junior. He’d never fished out in the ocean, but the crew showed him the basics and helped him reel his first catch.
He called John Jones from the beach that evening with some snippets he’d picked up from Keith’s telephone conversations. John told James that American drug enforcement agents had retrieved his Milk Duds box and MI5 specialists had managed to read most of the files. They contained details of several foreign bank accounts with transactions linking Keith to a money-laundering operation whose speciality was collecting your cash, bouncing it around the world banking system until it was untraceable and finally depositing it in an anonymous foreign bank account – minus their 25% commission.
John didn’t think it was enough information to get Keith convicted, but he reckoned it was a useful piece of the jigsaw.
The next day, James, Junior and Keith set off early for the 350-kilometre drive up to Orlando. It was low season, so the boys had a great time at Islands of Adventure, scaring themselves witless on all the rollercoasters and simulator rides, without wasting too much time queuing. James went nuts in the gift shop, buying T-shirts for Kyle and Kerry and a little bib and shorts for Joshua. When he went to pay at the till, Keith put the whole lot on his credit card.
By mid-afternoon, they were all knackered and sunburnt, so they checked into a hotel and showered before heading down to the restaurant. They got an outdoor table at the edge of a man-made lake with ducks and fountains in the middle. Keith ordered tagliatelle, while James and Junior got half-pound burgers and fries. The waitress brought walnut bread and olive oil to the table while they waited for their food.
‘I think I’m safe to talk here,’ Keith said. ‘Unless a bunch of cops followed me up here and they’re pointing a parabolic microphone at me from the other side of the lake.’
James looked away from the ducks, which were scrapping over a handful of bread he’d thrown into the pond a second before he noticed the Please Do Not Feed The