CHERUB: The Sleepwalker - Robert Muchamore Page 0,81

tears streaked down his face. He’d soaked his T-shirt in water and held it tight against his back to stem the bleeding. Downstairs, Hassam anxiously paced the living-room waiting to hear from Asif, while Jala and Muna continued their cheerful game of snap in the kitchen.

Fahim groaned as he stood up and peered out of the window above the toilet cistern. The back garden had a high fence, but there was a barred gate which opened directly on the golf course. Despite less than brilliant weather, pastel-clad golfers could be seen striding the fairways behind an impressive copse of willow trees.

He considered making a run for it, but Fahim was overweight and got out of breath quickly even when his back wasn’t in agony. His aunt Muna wouldn’t catch him in her long dress and high heels, but he reckoned he’d have to incapacitate Hassam to stand any chance of getting away. A furnished house provides an array of potential weapons from kitchen knives to china vases, but this one had white walls and bare floorboards. There wasn’t even a bar of soap to wash his hands.

Fahim checked out the three upstairs bedrooms. He opened the fitted wardrobes and gave the tie racks and clothes rails a tug, but they were all screwed in tight. The boiler cupboard also drew a blank and he ended up going downstairs and walking into the kitchen. The bleeding had mostly stopped, but the red stuff always makes a mess and seven-year-old Jala shielded her eyes in horror.

His aunt rose silently and inspected the wound. ‘A boy must learn to respect his father,’ Muna said, in her cautiously phrased English. ‘I have a first-aid kit in my car.’

Hassam leaned suspiciously into the hallway as Muna walked towards the front door. ‘Where are you going?’

Muna turned and bowed to her brother-in-law. ‘For bandages and antiseptic.’

Fahim didn’t know whether to be sad or disgusted by the way his aunt fawned, just because Hassam was a man.

‘Be quick,’ Hassam ordered, as he glanced at his Rolex. ‘I’m giving Asif another five minutes. If he’s not here by then we’ve got to assume the worst and move on without him.’

Muna looked shocked, but her tone didn’t change. ‘Isn’t he collecting the passports and money? Surely we need those.’

‘There’s more than one way to skin a cat,’ Hassam said, although Muna didn’t understand the phrase. ‘He’ll catch up with us when he can, but we can’t risk getting caught.’

33. GOLF

The sat-nav announced that they’d arrived as Mac’s Peugeot turned into the street of detached houses. The signal from Hassam’s phone could only be triangulated to within a hundred metres, meaning he could be inside any of a dozen residences.

‘Any idea what we’re looking out for?’ Jake asked.

‘Not sure,’ Mac said, driving as slowly as he could without it looking suspicious. ‘Car number plates might do it. Dial up the campus control room and tell them to stand by for some vehicle checks.’

Mac’s eyebrows shot up as Jake dialled. ‘See something?’ the boy asked.

Mac slowed to a crawl as they passed a house with a pristine driveway and rectangular For Sale board fastened to the front wall.

‘Hart McFadden estate agents,’ Mac said excitably, as he speeded up again. ‘I’ve seen that name in the accounts we ripped off Hassam’s computer. Get control to check the Volvo, GK57 NNP.’

By the time the campus control room ran the plate, Mac had pulled up three houses down, with two wheels up on the kerb of the narrow road.

‘Looks like you got it in one, boss,’ Jake grinned, as he moved his mobile away from his mouth. ‘It’s a company car belonging to Bin Hassam Dubai Mercantile Limited, London N7.’

‘Excellent,’ Mac said, pulling the tailgate release lever as he placed his foot in the road. ‘Make sure the control room lets the cops know that it’s house number sixteen.’

Jake passed on the message before snapping his phone shut and following Mac around to the back of the Peugeot.

‘We’d better take a look up there,’ Mac said.

‘Shouldn’t we wait for the cops?’ Jake asked. ‘What if they’ve got guns in there? All our equipment’s back at the apartment.’

Mac shook his head. ‘I’ve asked for an armed response team, but they’re not gonna be here for a while and Hassam must be getting suspicious about his brother by now. He could move at any minute.’

As Mac said this, he lifted up the tailgate, pushed half a dozen Sainsbury’s carrier bags aside and removed the piece of

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