Hunting the Wrecking Crew: An Eric Stone Novel

by Nick Albert

  “No, I mean the impossible kind of impossible,” she answered firmly, “the like me and Brad Pitt, kind of impossible.”

  “Oh.”

  “Oh indeed, Mr Stone.” Megan ran her fingers through her brightly coloured hair. “These days you cannot go on the internet, live in a house, work from an office, drive a car, operate a bank account, or even buy food without leaving some trace that I can follow.”

  “And yet you found nothing,” Stone recapped.

  “Got it!” Megan banged her fist on the desk. “I found not one damn thing — nothing!”

  “How can that be, Megan?” Carter spoke for the first time.

  “There are two possibilities. Either the Wrecking Crew does not exist — and we know that they do, or there is someone very, very, very good, covering their footprints.”

  “So are we screwed then?” Carter asked quietly.

  “Not necessarily, even the lack of clues is a clue in itself.”

  “How so?” Stone asked with genuine interest.

  “There are very few people in the world who have the skills necessary to pull this off. There are a few government types, mostly in China, South Korea, and Russia, but I think we’re looking for someone who’s from the West. My guess is that it’s probably someone working privately.” She smiled wickedly and patted her capacious chest. “In all likelihood we’re looking for someone with experience just like mine.”

  Megan could see from the blank expression on Stone’s face that he had missed the significance of her last comment. She gave a frustrated sigh and continued.

  “A quick history — I’ve been immersed in the world of computers since the age of twelve. I founded an internet security firm at the age of nineteen, before selling up to join GCHQ as a forensic investigator. I left them just six years ago, to go back to working privately — mostly for this twat!” She said, pointing at Carter. He nodded politely in response.

  “So it’s most likely that we’re looking for someone like me. Someone with my skills,” she said, her voice rising proudly, “and that, Mr Stone, is a very small pool of names!”

  “Right, I get it.” Stone nodded. “So what do we do next?”

  “I’ll start searching for their computer ‘expert’. Now that I know what I am looking for, it shouldn’t take long to narrow down the suspects. I’ll ask around discreetly, I still have friends in the hacking community. Someone somewhere should know if a rising star has dropped off the grid.”

  She pointed at Stone and Carter.

  “You guys need to follow the money — there’s always money. Even if it was paid in cash, someone had to earn it, someone spent it, and at some point, it probably went into a bank. Find that bank and we’ve found them!”

  Stone nodded. “Ed, do you agree?”

  “Absolutely, it’s the way to go, and we begin with Anton Stephens. Jeffers gave us Anton Stephens. Just now, he’s our only substantial lead. Megan was able to find out a good bit about our Mr Stephens. Megan?”

  Megan picked up a sheet of paper from the desk and began to recite.

  “Anton Stephens, born Birmingham, UK September 1969, only son of…skip that bit…quite intelligent…four A levels…did business studies at Uni. Had a couple of run-ins with the local constabulary, grievous bodily harm and possession of a class ‘A’ drug…got a suspended sentence for the drugs but the GBH never went to court. Apparently the victim suffered a nasty fall and then had a change of heart over his evidence.”

  “After Uni, Stephens moved to London and started work as an assistant manager in a chain of night clubs. That’s probably where he got into the retail side of the drugs scene. Two years later he left the nightclub, along with a Ukrainian bouncer named Alexis Markov. They moved to Essex where, after a violent turf war, Stephens set up his drug distribution business. A couple of years ago, he started rolling the profits into moneylending and taking bets…” Megan paused to check her notes.

  “I checked the Essex police records through a friend,” Carter jumped in. “His name is like a bad rash, it pops up over and over — mostly related to drugs and violent attacks. They seem to specialise in really vicious, nasty, and excessive violence. Unfortunately, the police can never get any witnesses to testify. I don’t think the local coppers will be sad to see the back of Anton Stephens and this Ukrainian bodyguard, Markov.”

  “Noted,” Stone said seriously.

  Megan carried on with her report.

  “As you would expect, Stephens does most of his business in cash, so there isn’t much information in his bank records that is of interest. His ‘respectable front’ is as a marketing consultant. I suspect that he washes some of his drug money through local pubs and clubs, and they pay him under the guise of marketing advice. That way he can legitimately put money through his bank account for his mortgage, insurance, phone contract, income tax and the like. He must have some actual skills on the marketing front, because he’s done work for several legitimate clients. In the last twelve months he has provided marketing advice for a dentist, a golf club, and even a respectable charity.”

  She handed her notes to Carter. He accepted them with a polite nod of thanks. Megan continued.

  “I can see nothing that would lead us up the ladder to the Wrecking Crew at this point. It looks like you guys will have to ‘interview’ Mr Stephens personally, to find out what he knows.”

  Megan gave a sly shrug as she tried to avoid the image of what such an interview might look like.

  “Luckily Stephens has a mobile phone and a state-of-the-art security system on his Mercedes. I found that both systems have their GPS tracking enabled, so with my help you’ll know where he is, and where he’s heading.”

  She tossed a smart phone across to Stone.

  “This is set to show his location at all times. The registration number of his Mercedes is ANT 02 BET. Jeffers was pretty close about that.”

  She held up a second sheet of paper for Stone to see.

  “These are mug shots of Stephens and Markov. They’re nasty looking fuckers. I can see why people fear them.”

  Megan gave Stone a hard look.

  “Watch out for Markov, Eric. He hasn’t any form over here, but there was a lot of information from Interpol to suggest that he was a very bad boy before he left the Ukraine. He was a suspect in several killings, some really nasty and sadistic stuff. He’s also believed to be into sex trafficking as well, and we’re not talking about consenting adults here.”

  Megan waved a warning finger.

  “Listen carefully to me Stone, this maggot Markov has a reputation for losing control. Extreme violence and the like — you look after Ed, or you’ll have me to deal with!”

  “You have my word,” Stone nodded. “Thanks for all the work you put in, I am truly grateful.”

  “You’re welcome, Eric,” she said with a warm smile. Then she added an afterthought. “You know I liked Charles Rathbone and what he stood for. Most politicians are about as useless as a chocolate fireguard, but he was a good man. I think he would have made a difference.”

  “I think he would have liked you as well Megan, I really do.”

  “What?” she laughed aloud, “The debonair Rathbone with a fat girl who lives alone and keeps cats?”

  “He could be shallow sometimes,” Stone admitted, “but he was drawn to intelligent and challenging women. I think you would have got on really well.”

  “Thank you.”

  Megan smiled genuinely before waving the two men away.

  “Go on, boys — go and find the animals that caused Charlie’s death, and shut them down!”

  Ed led Eric into the small sitting room. All of the chairs were occupied by sleeping cats, so they sat on the floor while they discussed the next step. Carter described his plan.

  “The GPS records show that every Saturday night Stephens does his drug and loans deliveries around the pubs in south Suffolk. He always visits Hadleigh, Ipswich, Needham Market, and finally Stowmarket. If he sticks to his sche
dule, he will be parked by the lake just outside Needham Market at around 9.30pm tonight.”

  “Really?” Stone asked. “Is the tracking data that accurate?”

  “Yep,” Carter nodded with a big smile, “and Stephens is as regular as clockwork. From what Jeffers told us, his clients expect him to be at a certain place at a certain time.”

  “I remember — he said it was like the fish and chip van doing the rounds. Good for us — bad for him.”

  “There’s no pub nearby, but Megan and I think that they stop at the lake for a rest. I guess even drug dealers are entitled to regular breaks,” Carter joked. “Perhaps they stop there for coffee and sandwiches, and a little privacy to count their money and sort the stock. In any event, I know the area pretty well. The lake would be a perfect place for an ambush.”

  “So we get there early and lay in wait?” Stone asked.

  “That’s pretty much what I was thinking,” Carter agreed. “I say we drive up to Ipswich now. There’s a big service area at the top of the A12. We can have something to eat while we wait. When we’re ready, we leave one car there and take the other to Needham Market. It’s around ten miles farther. If we get there at eight, we can park out of sight and work out where to hide by the lake. With the GPS tracker, we’ll know exactly when they are coming.”

  “And then?” Stone asked.

  “That’s your department, what do you suggest?”

  Stone thought for a while before answering.

  “We’ll stop at my house and pick up my shotgun and the crossbow, just in case. If they’re both in the car, then we may need some visible incentive to get them under control. If one or both are out of the car, and there’s a lot of ground to cover, then I may have to use the crossbow. It’s quick, deadly, and almost completely silent. I’ll be in a better position to make a decision when we get there.”

  “Ok, has the makings of a workable plan,” Carter said in a business-like tone.

  Stone could imagine Ed using the same voice to give his team of police officers confidence, just before a tricky stakeout.

  “There’s one final point,” Stone said, “whatever the layout, I want to take Markov out first. I intend to take him fast and hard. He’s the most dangerous, and it’s unlikely that he’ll know much, if anything, about the Wrecking Crew. After that you can question Stephen’s at your leisure.”

  “And afterwards?” Carter asked.

  Stone’s mouth tightened.

  “We’ll see. I have a feeling that they’ll be the kind of people who won’t give in easily, or forgive and forget after the event.”

  Carter nodded sternly.

  “I understand.”

  EIGHT

  They parked at the Copdock services near Ipswich to eat supper. Carter had chicken and chips and Stone chose vegetarian pasta with a side salad. They both drank water. After they had finished eating, Stone broke the silence.

  “Ed. There’s something else I wanted to discuss.”

  “Go on,” Carter said cautiously.

  “I’ve met someone — someone special. I want to include her in what we are doing. I’ve told her a about what happened to Charles and little bit about the Wrecking Crew, just in general terms, of course. She says that she wants to help.”

  Carter sat back in frustration.

  “Oh, Eric! Don’t tell me that you’ve been thinking with your dick.”

  Stone held up his hands in supplication.

  “It’s not like that — well it is, but not really. Look, she’s a really good person, very genuine — I feel it here!” He thumped his chest with his fist.

  “Who is she?” Carter asked sternly.

  “Her name is Linda Smart. She lives over in Sawbridgeworth, but she’s probably going to be working from my dojo in Colchester. She’s a fitness instructor.”

  “How long have you known her?” Carter asked, always the copper.

  “A couple of days,” Stone admitted quietly.

  “Jesus Christ!” Carter whispered angrily. “What the hell were you thinking? You know how dangerous these people are. We talked about this.”

  “It’s not like that, Ed. We met by accident, it was completely random, we just hit it off — that’s all. I really like her, Ed. It’s early days yet, but I think that we may have something special.”

  Carter’s lips tightened again, he closed his eyes to control his obvious anger. Stone said nothing. Eventually Carter spoke again, this time more quietly.

  “Well, we can’t go back now. How much have you told her?”

  “Only the basic details really. I mostly told her about Charles’ death being a forced suicide, caused by a group of very bad people. It was all generalisations, nothing specific.” Stone sat forward enthusiastically. “Look, I told her that it was a death that had to be avenged. She understands what that means, and she’s on board with it. I don’t want to put her in any danger, but we’re pretty thin on the ground just now. We may need an extra body at some point.”

  Carter gave a long sigh, clear evidence of his obvious frustration.

  “Ok Eric, but don’t tell her anything else until I’ve met her and Megan’s checked her out.” He gave Stone a hard look and spoke forcefully. “Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes — I understand,” Stone nodded enthusiastically.

  “And no sex either!” Carter said sharply.

  “WHAT?” Stone stood up.

  Carter pointed a gun like finger with a wide smile.

  “Gotcha!”

  Stone sat down sheepishly.

  “You’ll like her, Ed. I know you will. She’s cute — and really clever. We need her, we need a second pair of eyes on this — I’m sure she can help.”

  “Ok — enough said. I look forward to meeting her.” He checked Stephens’s location on the smart phone before glancing at his watch. “Stephens is stopped at a pub in Ipswich at the moment. It’s almost eight, so we’d better get going.”

  They travelled to Needham Market together in Stones car. After they turned off the A14 and onto the side road that led to the lake, Carter checked the smart phone again, and announced that Stephens was still stationary. Stone slowed the car as they neared the lake, ready to drive on by, but when he saw that the car park was empty he turned through the gate and came to a stop. The car park was just a simple flat gravel affair with four picnic benches lining the water’s edge. The parking area was approximately fifty metres on each side, a large square open space surrounded by untidy low-level bushes. The gateway was no more than a narrow gap in a high hedge, making the car park almost invisible to any passing traffic. Stone could see why Stephens chose this location to count his money and check his stock.

  After turning off the headlights, Stone climbed out of the car and stood for three minutes, carefully looking around. The sky was heavy with cloud, stained a sickly sodium-yellow by the distant streetlights of Ipswich. Even so, the car park was almost completely dark. Satisfied that they were not being watched, Stone took the shotgun and the crossbow from the boot and tucked them out of sight, behind the hedge on the left side of the car park. Carter checked the smart phone again, and softly called to Stone.

  “They’ve moved, but stopped again. They’re at a different pub — still in Ipswich.”

  Stone gave a silent wave of acknowledgement. Pulling a small torch from his jacket, he dropped to his knees and began scanning the gravel from a low angle. After a few minutes, he walked across to Carter.

  “If it was you, counting money and sorting drugs, where would you park?”

  Carter looked around, studying the layout in the gloom.

  “On the left, I think. The road angles away slightly, so parking on the left will keep them in the shadows if a car passes. If they need to make a quick getaway, it is easier for a right-hand drive car to make a right turn.”

  “I agree,” Stone nodded. “There are several sets of identical tyre marks in the gravel, just there on the left. The same car has repeatedly parked here, in exactly the sa
me spot. A little farther back, there’s around thirty cigarette ends on the ground. They’re all the same brand. I think that they will park on the left, and then someone will get out for a smoke. I think it will be Markov.”

  “Why Markov?” Carter asked.

  “Stephens is the boss; he’d smoke in his car if he wanted. I suspect he doesn’t smoke and won’t let anyone else smoke in his nice shiny Mercedes. They stop here to prepare for the next two stops, and Markov uses the time to get out and have a couple of smokes.”

  Carter considered what Stone had said and nodded once.

  “Makes sense to me. You’re the expert here Eric, what’s the plan?”

  “Well first of all, it’s a good spot for an ambush. It’s secluded, and wherever they park, we’ll only be a few feet away. At worst, if they park on the wrong side, its dark enough and there’s decent ground cover, so I should be able to work around without being seen.”

  He pointed to the right.

  “I’ll put the shotgun behind that bush. It will be loaded with the safety off. Take the car, park it a little way down the road, and hoof it back as quickly as you can. When you get back, take the gun, and lay down behind those bushes.

  “Wait for me to give you the signal,” Stone said firmly, “I’ll be on the left. When they get here, I intend to take down Markov first. I’ll do it fast and hard using the crossbow or my hands, whichever is safest. He’s too dangerous to take chances with.”

  Stone patted his pocket.

  “I’ve brought some cable-ties and a gag, so I can quickly disable him. After that, we can move on Stephens together. We’ll attack at the same time but from opposite sides of the car. If Stephens is still sitting in the car, come in at a forty-five-degree angle from the rear. That way he probably won’t catch you in his peripheral vision or see you in his mirrors. We have to assume he will be armed, so keep the shotgun handy until I have him secured. Ok?”

  “Good plan,” Carter said tensely. He gave Stone a quick ‘thumbs up’, climbed into the car, and drove away.