James looked at the two weather forecasts. ‘Has John given the go-ahead yet?’
Chloe’s voice strained from beneath a chipboard shelf, as she reached for a power socket. ‘Not yet, but it looks OK. The BBC were saying rain earlier in the day, but they’ve changed their minds now.’
‘Why’s the weather so important, anyway?’ James asked.
‘Some of our listening posts are using laser microphones and all our link-ups are via satellite. If it rains heavily, especially thunderstorms, half of our signals will go down the toilet.’
‘Right, like when you’re watching football on Sky and the picture freezes as Thierry Henry’s running on goal.’
‘That’s it exactly,’ Chloe said.
‘I don’t think I’ve seen so many wires before in my whole life.’
‘James, I’m trying to concentrate here,’ Chloe said irritably. ‘I’ve got thirty-seven electrical devices going into four wall sockets, more than fifty cables to plug in and a WiFi network to set up. I don’t mean to be rude, but can you please go next door and sit with Kerry and your sister.’
‘Sorry,’ James said, holding up his hands. ‘Give us a shout if you need anything.’
James turned around and headed back through the connecting door. Kerry and Lauren had both been watching TV when he stepped out a minute earlier, but the set was off now and they’d both disappeared. James figured they’d gone into their bedroom. He sat on the sofa, hit the power button and flipped until he found an episode of Futurama.
After thirty seconds, the lights went out. James felt the back of his T-shirt being grabbed, followed by a shower of popcorn going down his neck.
‘Aaagghh!’ James yelled, jumping up as Kerry switched the lights back on.
Lauren sprung from behind the sofa with a massive grin on her face. James ripped off his T-shirt and flicked away the bits of popcorn stuck to his back.
‘You are so dead, Lauren.’
Lauren grinned. ‘Gotta catch me to kill me.’
James closed down on the sofa. Lauren was fast and could wriggle for England. James knew whichever way he moved, she’d dive out the opposite side. To get around this, he charged at the sofa and pushed it backwards. When Lauren realised she was about to get pinned to the wall, she scrambled up over the sofa and collapsed on to the cushions. James stopped pushing and dived on to his sister’s back. She tried to break out, but James had enough of a weight advantage to hold her.
‘I can’t breathe,’ Lauren moaned as he squashed her.
James scooped a handful of the loose popcorn off the sofa with one hand and tugged the elastic of Lauren’s shorts with the other.
‘James no,’ Lauren squealed. ‘Not down my knickers. This is war, James. LET ME GO.’
21:06
John was seventeen floors down in a corner of the hotel bar, as far as he could get from the other guests. Two stocky men passed through a set of double doors and John reflected that somehow, years of police and intelligence work had given him the nose to spot a plain-clothes cop a mile off: jeans, beer gut, ski jacket. There was even something about the way they spoke.
‘You must be John Jones,’ the older one said, as he dumped an Adidas sports bag on the carpet.
John reached out to shake their hands. ‘Greg Jackson and Ray McLad, I believe. Grab a seat. What are you drinking?’
Ray and Greg worked for the Metropolitan Police Complaints Investigation Bureau. CIB officers specialise in dealing with corruption and allegations made against fellow officers.
‘We were intrigued by your e-mail,’ Greg said, as John returned, placing three pints of beer on the table and sliding back into his seat. ‘Not much in the way of specifics, but you’re talking about a big collar: bent cops, robbery and murder all in one go. So what’s the deal?’
‘In a nutshell, my plan is to take our two main suspects, make them fighting mad and set them at each other’s throats. If all goes well, they’ll end up in a confrontation, recounting past misdeeds while we’ve got a microphone aimed at them.’
Ray nodded. ‘How come you wanted us involved? Intelligence usually likes to snaffle all the glory for itself.’
‘I’ve been working with a community policewoman called Millie Kentner, but the rest of my operatives are a bit on the unusual side,’ John explained. ‘They can’t show their faces in open court without undermining the security of an organisation that doesn’t officially exist. So, if we pull this off, we’ll package all the evidence up