‘Are we sure he didn’t drive?’
‘His wife said the car was at home when she woke up and she had both sets of keys, so we are pretty confident he either caught the bus or got a lift with somebody…’
‘Is there anyone in the frame who may have given him a lift?’ Vincent interrupted. ‘A possible accomplice?’
‘We’ve not identified anyone yet, but an accomplice is a possibility. From what I can tell, he was a normal bloke, a nine to five type, the quiet sort. You know? Where would someone like that pick up the SIG Pro handgun?’
‘Okay, that’s an angle to pursue. Right, what are the next steps?’
‘D.C. Barnes is on her way over to IPSA now to interview some of the shooter’s colleagues to see if any of them can suggest a possible motive. Capshaw is going back to see the widow in a bit and I’m going to head over to Blue Star.’
‘Good,’ said Vincent before adding, ‘Capshaw, take Beth with you when you see Mrs Simpson, will you? She might open up more to a family liaison officer.’
Capshaw nodded his understanding.
*
‘We need to know who he is, where he is from and why the hell he targeted our shopping centre. Do you understand?’ Davies was saying as Vincent approached the group.
The group mumbled their confirmation and split up, heading back to vacant computer workstations to carry out their duties.
‘I want to go and speak to him again,’ Vincent suggested. ‘Maybe a second night in the cells will have cleared his mind a bit. Want to tag along?’
Davies smiled his acceptance.
‘With respect, Detective Inspector Vincent, you will do no such thing,’ interrupted a confident, feminine voice.
Vincent turned to see a tall attractive woman dressed in a tight black trouser suit in the doorway.
‘And you are?’ Vincent began before she brushed past him with five suited men following her into what was already a cramped incident room.
‘Thank you for all you’ve done so far, Detective Inspector, but I’ll take it from here.’
‘Who the hell do you think you are?’
‘Did the D.C.I. not tell you I was coming? Perhaps we should go and see her right now?’
With that the woman brushed past him once more and headed out of the door, in the direction of the staircase. Her movement was followed by a waft of sweet-smelling perfume. Like a rat in Hamlyn, Vincent followed her towards the staircase.
18
The large white van with Securitas markings pulled up on Whittle Avenue, just off the Segensworth West exit, near Fareham. The driver, a former boxer, killed the engine and exited the vehicle. He wore the traditional navy blue woollen jumper and polyester trousers that befitted his employer. On his head was a navy blue helmet with protective visor. His gloved hands unlocked the doors at the side of the vehicle. He found a sawn-off Remington shotgun aimed at his face.
‘Cut it out, Danny,’ he said pushing the barrel away. ‘Someone might see.’
Danny didn’t respond but laughed his action off.
‘The depot is around the corner,’ began the driver. ‘It’s time to put your balaclavas on. There are security cameras as soon as we turn this corner, and they will be focused on two things: the image of the driver and the licence plate of the vehicle. Our licence plate matches that of a known vehicle so our presence shouldn’t raise any alarm bells with the guards observing the cameras. The guard on the barrier won’t recognise my face but our insider says he has been paid off so, again, we should pass through this stage unnoticed.’
‘Ray, we know all this,’ Danny interrupted, frustrated by the driver’s pedantic need to repeat the plan over and over.
‘Okay, Danny,’ Ray replied, keeping his cool. ‘Why don’t you tell us all what happens next then, seeing as you’re such an expert?’
Danny blushed slightly beneath the balaclava.
‘Once we’re through the barrier, we drive up to the loading dock at the rear of the depot. We wait inside the van, while you and Alex go in and complete the paperwork. This is likely to take five minutes at most, from which point you will have breached the perimeter. You will move swiftly to the vault where the cash cages are stored and will take control of the area, forcing the guards to move the cages to the rear loading dock, where we will be waiting to take them on board.’
Ray was slightly miffed that Danny had so adeptly described the plan.
‘One thing I don’t understand Ray, is why are we doing this job in broad daylight?’
‘Because nobody will be expecting it you numb-nuts!’ Ray fired back. ‘Think about it, who in his right mind would attempt to rob a cash depot with so many potential witnesses? They’ll be lulled into a false sense of security.’
‘But we’ve never done anything this…this big before. I’m used to pulling a piece in an off licence or post office. Knocking off a security depot is a bit bigger, don’t you think?’
Eager to keep the rest of the crew calm, Ray said, ‘Danny, it’ll be a piece of cake. The plan is a good one, and this is the best possible time for us to hit the site. Look around you, are there any local plods patrolling? No. Do you know why not? Because they are too busy dealing with that fucking terrorist from the weekend and that psycho who killed his co-workers on Friday. The fuzz are stretched, meaning we’ve got a good shot at getting away with this. Understand?’
Danny nodded uncomfortably, as Ray closed the door and headed back to the front of the van. Alex, a tall, wiry man climbed into the passenger seat and secured the helmet’s chin strap.
‘You ready, Alex?’ Ray asked.
‘Fuck yeah!’ came the howled reply.
Ray started the engine and drove the short distance to the security barrier of the Securitas cash depository. His gut was filled with nervous excitement, but the thought that in less than two days he would be relaxing by a pool in a non-extradition country with his share of the forty million pounds kept his mind focused. His and Alex’s shares of the loot would be greatest as their faces would be captured by the security cameras and so there was a better chance of them being identified after the heist. He didn’t care though. The only family he had left in England was a distant brother that he never spoke to. His future lay abroad, or so he told himself; time to start afresh.
The guard at the security barrier asked for the van’s itinerary so he could verify its presence. Ray passed the clipboard of paperwork over and issued the code-phrase he had been given.
The guard paused as if he had misheard and then passed the clipboard back to Ray with a wink.
‘All in order,’ the guard said to his colleague in the booth, a signal to raise the barrier.
Ray nodded at the guards as he drove through and then he headed to the south side of the large brick building. The depot was used to store all sorts of valuable items, as well as floats for local large businesses, and the vaults were in a specialist secured area of the building, which had one way in and one way out. The team of twelve rotating guards, who worked in this area permanently, were required to sign in and be monitored each day, including being frisked as they left at night. Any visitors to the site, including guards collecting or depositing funds underwent the same treatment. Last year, a local politician had paid a visit to the site to present an award to the manager for charity work he had undertaken and was quite put out by the rigmarole. Those were the rules: trust nobody.
Ray and Alex were wearing stab-proof vests, part of the uniform for this employer, but their vests had been adapted to house a small handgun and back up magazine. The location of the weapons would not raise suspicion as part of a regular pat-down, but could be quickly removed when required.
Ray banged on the partition that separated the drivers from the rear of the vehicle as a signal that they had reached their destination. Alex nodded his understanding as they left the vehicle and headed for the small door into the building.
The three guards stationed at the entrance carried semi-automatic assault rifles, m
ore as a deterrent than a genuine threat. One guard was monitoring the video feeds, while the other two stood behind the window, ready to log and frisk visitors.
‘Can I help you?’ said the guard closest to the glass.
‘We’re here to collect the midday pot,’ Ray replied, sliding the clipboard of papers through the small gap under the glass.
The guard took the clipboard and passed it to his colleague, who sat down at a computer to verify the details.
‘You new?’ the first guard asked Ray.
‘Nope,’ Ray replied confidently. ‘I’ve worked for the company for the last six years. I’m based out of Tonbridge usually. Boss was offering overtime to help out you boys, so here I am.’
‘Tonbridge, you say?’ the guard replied suspiciously. ‘You must know Harry Lomax then?’
Ray had never even been to Tonbridge, let alone visited the depot there. He had no way of knowing whether the guard was trying to catch him out with this reference to a guard at the Tonbridge depot.
‘Can’t say that I do,’ Ray replied, feeling sweat forming around his forehead. ‘It’s such a big place, though. Do you know Smithie or Big-nose Pete?’ Ray blagged.
The guard smiled. ‘You mean Pete Davies? Yeah, he’s a right Pinocchio, isn’t he?’
Ray laughed along with the guard. He had no clue as to the names of any of the employees at the Tonbridge depot, but had figured that with such a large workforce there was bound to be someone with the surname Smith or someone called Pete. He had been told recently that the secret to lying was to sound confident when speaking; people will buy anything if you sound like you know what you are saying.
‘This is fine,’ motioned the guard at the workstation, handing the clipboard back to his colleague.
‘Right fellas just need to frisk you. Turn and face the wall while we come out.’
Alex and Ray obliged turning and placing their hands against the far wall, spreading their legs slightly. Once the pat-down was complete, the first guard, whose badge identified him as Harry, led them down a narrow corridor to a secured door. A small camera, positioned just above the door, was pointing down at them. The feed went through to a monitor on the other side of the door, where another guard waited to allow entrance. Harry looked into the lens and mouthed a code-word to his colleague. It was standard protocol that the guards on duty had two words they could mouth at this point; one a safe word, the other a warning that there was a problem. The guard on the other side of the door had an alarm button that he could press to notify the authorities of trouble if the warning-word was uttered. The code words were changed on a daily basis and only the site manager and these two guards knew what they were, for security.
The door opened with a buzz, and Harry ushered them through nodding at his colleague as he did.
‘Is your van parked up at the rear dock?’ the new guard asked, as he led them to a further security door that ultimately led through to the vaults.
‘Yes it is,’ Ray replied eagerly, removing his gun and placing it against the back of the guard’s head. ‘Keep moving!’
The guard decided not to struggle and continued forward, opening the security door with his set of keys.
‘You won’t get away with this,’ he started to say before Ray thrust his weapon down on the guard’s neck, rendering him unconscious. The guard fell to the floor, and Alex dragged him through the door before closing and locking it. In tandem, Ray and Alex raised their weapons and turned the corner where the vault’s two guards were standing. They didn’t see the armed intruders until it was too late.
‘Place your weapons on the ground slowly,’ Alex demanded and watched in glee as the two guards obeyed. ‘Now open the fucking vault and start unloading the cages.’
The company’s policy in heist situations was for employees not to act in any way that would potentially put their lives in danger. With this in mind, the two guards unlocked the large vault and began pulling out the large cages, containing small packets of cash.
‘Start with the high value cages first,’ Ray indicated, pointing at the cages housing the fifty pound notes.
Alex meanwhile had moved to the loading bay and had opened the electronic doors. The rear doors of the van opened and Danny and the other two piled out and moved over to the approaching cages, where they proceeded to unload the cubes and place them carefully in the van.
‘We have two minutes!’ Alex declared, as the operation gathered pace, before declaring, ‘Done!’ when the time had elapsed.
‘But we can get more,’ urged Danny. ‘They haven’t triggered the alarm yet.’
Ray grabbed the younger man and pulled him closer. ‘We’re done!’
Danny didn’t need telling twice, and pulling free of Ray’s grasp, he jumped into the back of the van and waited for the doors to close. Satisfied that their work was done, Ray ushered the two guards into the vault and locked the door on them. He then threw the keys into a corner of the bay and jumped into the driver’s seat. They were back through the security barrier before the alarm had even been triggered.
19
Detective Chief Inspector Jan Mercure was sitting at her desk, clearly reading something on her monitor when Vincent knocked twice on the door.
‘Morning, Jack,’ she said warmly. ‘How are you?’
‘Fine, Ma’am.’
‘Oh I see you’ve met our visitor,’ she added when she saw the suited woman follow him into the room.’
Vincent nodded, waiting for an explanation.
Mercure shook hands with the woman, who then moved across to the window to admire the view. It was her way of saying that she would give them space to discuss her presence but that she would remain to hear what was said.
‘I had a call last night, Jack. M.I.5 wants to lead the investigation into our terrorist.’
Vincent eyed the spook cautiously.
‘Look,’ Mercure began trying to manage the situation, ‘they still want you to run things at ground level, but they want to be able to steer the investigation and share our intelligence. It’s not as bad as it seems, Jack.’
‘Detective Inspector Vincent,’ said the spook, turning to face him. ‘I am Lauren Smart. It’s a pleasure to meet you,’ she added offering a hand.
Vincent shook it and was surprised at how firm the hand felt.
‘Would you mind leaving the room, while I speak to my D.C.I. in private, please?’ Vincent demanded bluntly.
Mercure shot him a look of admonishment, but Smart disregarded the tone of the comment and left the room, closing the door behind her.
‘I know what you’re going to say, Jack,’ Mercure began. ‘I don’t like having them here either, but we don’t have a choice. We’re stretched thin as it is with these three cases, so actually their presence will be of benefit to the team.’
‘Benefit?’ Vincent questioned. ‘They are government agents: they can’t be trusted.’
‘Don’t be so childish, Jack!’
‘I’m sorry, Ma’am, but you have to see it from my point of view: I don’t want to be a lackey to some agency that doesn’t understand the limitations of real police work.’
‘I made the same argument to the Superintendent, Jack, and do you know what he said?’
Vincent shrugged his shoulders.
‘He said ‘J-F-D-I!’ as in, we don’t have a choice in the matter. So I’m now saying to you, Jack: just fucking do it!’
‘Who is this woman?’
‘Lauren Smart is an experienced agent at M.I.5 from what I have been told. She specialises in handling terrorist cells on UK shores. She wants to be present at any briefings, and will take the lead on any interviews with the would-be bomber.’
There was a knock on the door and Smart poked her head around asking if they were finished their discussion. Mercure nodded and beckoned her return.
‘How do I address you?’ Vincent asked.
‘You can call me Smart, Agent Smart or just Ma’am, Jack. I’ll let you choose.’
There was an air of confidence to the woman, as if she was used to getting her own way, in particular with the opposite sex. She was of slim build, with light brown hair down to her shoulders; highlighted Vincent guessed.
‘Right, Jack,’ she continued. ‘I will be assuming D.C.I. Mercure’s role as Senior Investigating Officer on the bomb incident. I will also take over liaison duties with the AAIB, until we know what brought that plane down. As unlikely as it is that two terrorists struck the city in as many days, it is something we will pursue for the time being. Who is your Statement Reader?’
‘D.C. Robert Jones. He’s good; got great attention to detail.’
‘Good. I’ll put one of my team with him as an extra pair of eyes. I take it you use the HOLMES system here?’
Vincent nodded.
‘Well your D.C. can retain responsibility for updating that, but my man will need to read everything before it is input. I’m sure you understand that any information that might impact on national security will need to be redacted before it is shared with the wider audience?’
Vincent opened his mouth to argue, but closed it again when he saw Mercure shaking her head in his direction.
‘I will also put one of my men with your Disclosures Team and Exhibit Officer. We will hold catch up meetings first thing every morning and then half-way through the day so that we have the most up to date information to hand. Someone helped this man get his hands on that bomb and the equipment to trigger the centre’s automated locking system. Our focus needs to be on finding whoever that was.’
Vincent watched as Agent Smart brushed past him on her way out of the office, heading back to the Major Incident Room. A whiff of her perfume caught in his nose again.
‘What are your thoughts, Jack?’ Mercure asked.
‘At least she seems to know what she’s talking about,’ he reluctantly admitted.
‘We need to be seen to be supporting them with whatever they ask for, Jack, but be careful; Let’s make sure we’re not left out of the loop with any progress they make. Do you understand me?’
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