CHERUB: The Killing - Robert Muchamore Page 0,71

so it looks like everything was done by Millie and you two. I’d imagine a chief inspector’s badge will be within easy grasp.’

Both cops tried to act like they weren’t impressed, but couldn’t help smiling into their pint glasses as they drank.

‘When you say your agents are unusual, are we talking about informants, or what?’ Greg asked.

‘Far more exotic that that,’ John grinned. ‘An old friend of mine recommended you guys because you’ve worked with MI5 before, but I’m still going to remind you where you stand: if you ever disclose any information about the agents you’ll be working with over the next couple of days, you’ll be undermining dozens of undercover missions throughout the world and putting lives at risk. If you leave us in a position where we have to choose between your lives and the safety of our agents, you might find yourselves in some very hot water.’

Greg and Ray exchanged a look, as if to say: Is this joker full of his own importance, or what? John didn’t mind; he knew the cops would take the threat seriously enough when they learned the truth.

‘Finish your pints, then I’ll take you upstairs to meet the cherubs,’ John said.

Ray scratched his nose. ‘What’s a cherub when he’s out to lunch?’

21:11

Millie had worked out of the same cramped office since she first came to Palm Hill in 1996. For nine years she’d been dedicated to her job. She’d pulled twelve-hour shifts, attended community meetings that dragged into the early hours of the morning and often came in on her days off to catch up with paperwork.

Discovering Michael Patel’s criminal past had shattered Millie’s confidence. How good a cop could she really be if she hadn’t noticed that her right-hand man was a bully, a thief and probably a murderer to boot? However the sting operation went, Millie had decided to quit the force as soon as it was over.

She had a mound of paperwork to deal with, but she’d spent the past half an hour brooding into the bottom of a coffee cup, with her black stockinged feet resting on her desktop. When the mobile in her top pocket started to vibrate it was Chloe back at the hotel.

‘Sorry we kept you waiting,’ Chloe said. ‘The weather looks good for tomorrow. I called John for confirmation and he’s cleared us to go.’

‘Got that,’ Millie said, breaking into what felt like her first smile in days. ‘I just hope this works out.’

‘Don’t sweat it,’ Chloe said. ‘John really knows his stuff. He was running operations like this when you and I were in nappies.’

Millie ended the call. She knew this wasn’t going to be easy, but it was a relief to be underway after nearly three weeks of preparations. She slipped her feet back into her shoes, rolled her chair forward and grabbed the receiver of the landline phone on her desk. Her finger tapped in memory seventy-three: Michael Patel’s home number.

‘Six-zero-three-one.’

‘Pat, is that you? Is he home?’

‘Oh, hi Millie,’ Patricia said. She yelled after her husband, before putting her mouth back to the receiver. ‘You must come round to dinner again some time, by the way.’

‘That would be nice,’ Millie lied, as she overheard the Patels’ three-year-old daughter, Charlotte, screaming in the background. ‘It sounds like the young lady doesn’t want to go to bed,’ she added.

‘She’s been a pain all day. First she wouldn’t get in the bath. Now she’s refusing to get out.’ Patricia shouted out again, ‘Michael, are you going to take this call or not? I can’t leave Charlotte alone in the water.’

Patricia put the receiver down and dashed off. Michael picked it up twenty seconds later. ‘Sorry to keep you waiting, guv. What’s up?’

Millie had practised the lie a hundred times over the previous week. ‘Afraid I’m the bearer of bad news, Mike. Remember you pulled in a kid called James Holmes over by the reservoir a few Saturdays back?’

Michael nodded at the receiver. ‘Yeah, the tough little brat, turned over a couple of real hard cases. What about him?’

‘I’ve got heads up that Holmes’ solicitor has filed a complaint against you. James claims you knocked his head against the roof as you put him into the car. You’ll get the official two-eight-nine notification some time tomorrow. You’ll obviously have to go over to CIB for an interview about it at some stage, but I thought you’d want to know now, so you can check your notebook and get your details straight.’

‘Appreciated boss. Usual

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