‘We’ve now got the option of answering any call Michael makes.’
‘CHERUB has the technology,’ Lauren said, deepening her voice to make herself sound like a movie trailer.
John looked at Kerry and Lauren. ‘You’d better keep the chatter down when this call comes through – in fact, scrub that order. Lauren, you’re not even dressed and Kerry, your hair looks like a bird’s nest. We might need you for something later on, so get yourselves scrubbed. Then go downstairs and get breakfast before the buffet closes.’
Lauren looked back at John. ‘Can’t we please stay long enough to hear the phone call?’
‘No,’ John said sternly. ‘This isn’t Chat FM you’re listening to here. This is a mission and we’ve all got jobs to do, now scram.’
The girls skulked out of the room and began rowing over who got first dibs in the shower.
‘Keep the noise down,’ John yelled. ‘And you’re not that big, you can shower together and save time.’
‘But …’ Kerry said reluctantly.
‘Think of the water you’ll save,’ Chloe laughed. ‘It’ll be good for the environment.’
A phone that was linked up to one of the computers started ringing almost as soon as the girls had gone. After three rings, Chloe let a call-centre program on one of the computers answer it with a message she’d recorded a few days earlier.
‘Hello, my car …’ Michael Patel spluttered, before he realised he was speaking to a machine.
‘Welcome to the Auto Club home-start hotline. We’re sorry, but all our operators are busy at this time. Your call matters to us and one of our operators will take it as soon as they become available. For your convenience, please have your membership number ready …’
‘For god’s sake,’ Michael yelled, as light classical music broke out over the line. ‘Why can’t anyone just answer a telephone these days?’
08:59
Leon had given Dave a set of keys for the car lot. As he undid the padlock on the gate, Dave looked over his shoulder at the orange Mercedes van parked across the street, knowing that the CIB agent Greg Jackson was watching him from inside.
Leon and Pete never made it to the lot much before quarter past nine, which meant Dave had a few minutes to run some final checks. He unlocked Leon’s office and filled the kettle to brew up. Then he pulled the Palm Pilot out of his rucksack and ran a diagnostic on the five listening devices he’d set up on the lot over the previous week. He was a little perturbed when he entered the access code for the first bug, only to find that the signal was very weak. He flipped through the other four devices, and found they were completely dead.
Dave felt a shot of panic. This was the most important location in the sting operation and one weak audio signal coming out of the tool shed wasn’t going to cut it. He frantically checked out of the window to make sure nobody was approaching the cabin, before grabbing the two-way radio out of his pack.
‘John, Chloe, I’m in big trouble here.’
John’s voice crackled through the speaker. ‘Dave, what’s wrong?’
‘I’m not picking up a scrap of sound through the Palm Pilot. Can you double-check at your end?’
‘Will do.’
It took thirty seconds for John’s reply to come through.
‘They’re all dead,’ John called anxiously.
‘I’ve got a signal on one,’ Dave said.
‘If they’re all down, it must be a problem with the booster aerial that relays the signal up to the satellite. Where did you hide it?’
‘On the cabin roof,’ Dave said.
‘Is Leon there yet?’
Dave looked at his watch. ‘Not for eight to ten minutes, I reckon.’
‘Do you think you’ve got time to get up on the roof and have a go at fixing it?’
‘I can try,’ Dave said. ‘But I’ll have some explaining to do if he turns up early.’
‘We’re dead in the water if we can’t get Leon’s conversations on tape. You’ll have to risk it.’
Dave anxiously checked his watch and tucked the Palm Pilot and two-way radio into his shorts. He grabbed a dustbin from near the entrance of the lot and dragged it up to the cabin. He stood on the lid, then hauled himself on to the corrugated metal roof.
It wasn’t a nice place to be, but as he clambered over the moss and bird droppings, he could at least identify the cause of the problem: some drunk had lobbed an empty vodka bottle on to the roof of the cabin, knocking the stubby grey booster aerial out of its