smaller: a limited-frequency microphone designed to pick up the sound of computer keyboards. This recent addition to CHERUB’s espionage gear was used with a piece of software capable of detecting the minuscule variations in the sonic signature of each key on a keyboard. Predictive software then determined which key corresponded to which letter of the alphabet, and meant that you could log every keystroke from several computers just by placing this microphone in a room.
Once he’d stuck the microphone under the corner of a desk, roughly halfway between the room’s two laptops, Ryan backed out into the drizzle and found Craig strolling towards him.
‘What the hell are you doing?’ Craig shouted.
Like all good CHERUB agents, Ryan had an excuse ready. ‘I was looking for you,’ he explained calmly. ‘I wanted to know how many more hours I had to work to pay off my debt.’
‘How’d you get in the office?’
Ryan acted innocent. ‘I thought you were in there. It wasn’t locked or anything.’
Craig looked at the open door and seemed to accept Ryan’s explanation. ‘Who was in here last?’
‘The blond guy,’ Ryan said, not letting on that he knew the bloke’s name from surveillance photos. ‘And the chubby one who always wears a pullover.’
‘Right,’ Craig said. ‘They’ll be getting a rocket up their arses for leaving the office unlocked.’
‘Yeah,’ Ryan said weakly. ‘So I was kind of wondering about my hours. Milosh said he’s not keeping track, and you’re only here now and then. So I was thinking I should make a log or something.’
Craig didn’t seem to care. ‘Fine, you do that. Just don’t let me catch you cheating.’
‘I wouldn’t risk it,’ Ryan said.
Ryan went for a piss in the toilet, but his stomach flipped when he stepped down from the cabin and found Craig on his case again. He gave Ryan a don’t move gesture, while rabbiting into the cheapo Nokia mobile at his ear.
‘Well . . .’ Craig said. ‘No . . . no, no. You tell him to stay and I’ll get it picked up.’
Ryan wondered if he’d left any evidence in the office, but the devices he’d planted looked completely innocent, so he couldn’t see how.
Craig started losing it with whoever was on the other end of the phone. ‘I told Luke where and when,’ he yelled. ‘It’s not brain surgery, is it? And I don’t give a monkey’s if he’s sick. If Luke’s sick, he makes a call and someone will sort it out. But knowing that lazy shite, he’s been on the piss all night and can’t get his head off the pillow.’
After a few more sentences and some serious swearing, Craig ended the call and glared at Ryan. ‘I need a job done. You know Kentish Town?’
‘Only vaguely, but I’ve got maps on my phone.’
Craig nodded. ‘I need you to get up to Kentish Town Road and pick up a package from a man standing outside Iceland. Then I’ll need you to take it somewhere across town.’
Ryan was intrigued, but made himself sound wary. ‘I haven’t worked off my debt, so I’d rather not risk getting robbed again.’
Craig’s expression hardened. ‘I’m not asking, I’m telling,’ he barked. ‘I haven’t got the details for the delivery address, but I’ll get someone to text it to you.’
As Craig said this, he pulled a wad of twenty-pound notes out of his jeans and gave three of them to Ryan.
‘That’s for a taxi if you need one.’
‘Right,’ Ryan said, as he unzipped his overall and started pulling off his trainers.
‘What are you fannying around at?’ Craig asked angrily.
‘I’m assuming you don’t want me carrying gear around London with the name of this place embroidered across my back.’
Craig gave Ryan a respectful nod and a hint of a smile. ‘Good thinking,’ he said. ‘Brains seem to be in short supply in this organisation these days. There might just be hope for you, kiddo . . .’
26. HUNT
Warren reluctantly spilled the beans to Fay and Ning.
‘Back in the day, before Craig gave me my package and I started making real money, I did a Saturday job in my cousin’s carpentry shop. One week I got there and it was mayhem. My cuz and two guys who work for him were making these trellis things and wooden racks. Plus there’s an electrician there, wiring banks of lights on chipboard for hanging from a ceiling.’
‘Sounds like a grow house to me,’ Fay said. ‘What’s the address?’
Warren smiled awkwardly. ‘That’s where it gets tricky. Like, me and my cousin all knew