by J. D. Weston
The woman sat at the end of the table. Larson was to her right facing the team, and the minder sat opposite him. His broad shoulders covered most of Harvey’s view, but Larson was easily recognisable from the photo Reg had provided.
“Okay first things first, let's get the car chipped. Then we’ll work on getting a bug closer to Larson’s table,” said Melody.
“You have audio bugs?” asked Denver.
“Of course, we have these new ones that Reg gave me. Apparently, he can pick up the audio through LUCY, as long as they are in range of the van,” said Melody.
“Can I take one?”
Melody passed him one.
“And a chip?”
She passed him a chip. “What are you doing?”
“Taking care of the car.” Denver pushed his chair back. “Order me the full English, will you?” He left the room.
Harvey and Melody sat looking at the menu until a waitress approached them.
“Good morning, how are you both today?” she said.
“We’re very well, thank you.”
“Are you ready to order or would you care for more time?”
“We’ll take three coffees, a full English for our friend, and I’ll take the healthy omelette. What would you like, dear?” Melody said with a smile.
“Just coffee is good for me, thanks,” said Harvey and handed the waitress the menu.
The waitress collected the other two menus. “I’ll be back with the coffees shortly.” She smiled and left.
Harvey casually glanced around the room as anybody might in a nice restaurant. He looked behind him, noted the paintings on the wall, and made a show of pointing to one and talking to Melody about it. Long emerald green curtains were tied back with braided gold rope onto elegant hooks and fixed into the walls. As Harvey’s eyes made their way back to face forward, they fell on Larson, who stared unabashedly at him. He gave a half smile, blinked and turned his attention back to the woman.
Harvey did the same, turning back to Melody. He put his arm on the back of her chair, as a husband might do, and pulled his right leg up onto his left knee. He feigned talking to her about what they might do that day. Reaching across her, he pulled a tourist leaflet from a little stand at the end of the table. As he leaned over, he uttered under his breath, “I think it’s a trap.”
Melody said nothing but leaned into him to look at the leaflet, which described a tour of the manor house revealing its history and impressive art collection. The pamphlet was tri-folded, and the inside page was dedicated to the house’s fantastic collection of artwork.
Harvey made a point of skipping past the pictures of the art and glanced at the rear page of the pamphlet before discarding it on the table as if he wasn’t interested.
“What have you two lovebirds been talking about then?”
Harvey realised his arm was still on the back of Melody’s chair. “Just playing the game, Denver,” Harvey said quietly. “You all done?”
“Yeah, the chip’s in the boot and the bugs are in the front under the dash,” muttered Denver. He glanced around him. “Did you order yet?”
“Yeah, it’s on its way,” said Melody, just as the waitress reappeared with three coffees and a small silver bowl of sugar. The three cups of coffee each had a little shortbread biscuit on the saucer beside the cup, which sat on a white frilly dolly.
“Your order will be five minutes,” said the waitress. “Can I offer you some toast and jam perhaps?”
“No, thank you,” said Melody. “That’ll be fine.”
The waitress left.
A few minutes passed, then the waitress reappeared with another waiter pushing a small stainless steel cart. There were two large silver covers over the plates of food. They served the plates smoothly on the table in front of Melody and Denver.
“Can I get you anything else?” she asked.
“No, this is perfect, thank you very much,” said Melody.
“You’re welcome, please do enjoy your breakfast.” The waitress and the waiter left, and Denver began to cover his breakfast in salt and ketchup. Harvey drank his black coffee and kept an eye of Larson with infrequent flicks of his eye.
Denver was halfway through his breakfast when Larson, the woman and the big guy stood. They thanked the waitress and left the table, walking behind Harvey and the team towards the exit.
“Okay, Reg are you hearing me?” said Melody.
“Loud and clear, Melody.”
“Larson is on the move, he’s with a woman and the minder. Are you able to identify the woman somehow?”
“I can’t see any activity unless I know the number or the person’s name.”
“Where’s Stimson, Reg?”
“Hold on, I’m just checking. He’s way out, in Shepton Mallet,” said Reg.
“Shepton Mallet? What’s there?” asked Melody.
“A prison outside of Bristol,” said Harvey. “But Stimson’s a West Country guy right?”
“Yeah originally, he moves about a bit.”
“Okay maybe he has a house there. Let's see if we can get a lead on the woman, Denver’s chipped and bugged the BMW. We’re heading out now, we’ll hang behind, and you can be our eyes, Reg.”
“Copy that,” said Reg.
Melody paid the bill as Denver and Harvey left and stood by the front doors. They saw the big guy climb into the black BMW. The woman opened the passenger door of a little Porsche, and Larson climbed into an Audi. The Porsche pulled off and drove slowly up the long driveway. The Audi followed, and the BMW pulled out behind the other two, obscuring the plates of the cars in front.
“That didn't work out, did it?” said Denver. “Reg, they’ve taken three cars.”
“Okay, I can see Larson on the move, the minder guy is also moving,” said Reg.
“Yeah, they all climbed into different cars. We’re going to need to rely on Larson’s phone to follow him. Keep on him Reg, we’ll be on the road in one minute,” said Harvey. Denver ran across to the van and started it up. By the time Melody came out the restaurant, Denver was at the bottom of the twelve grand steps that led from the main doors to the gravel driveway. She climbed in, and Denver put his foot down.
“So we’re following Larson only. The other two are of no interest to us at this point, Reg.”
“Copy, I’ve got Larson’s phone up on LUCY. He’s moved ahead of the other guy, looks like he’s heading into London. The other guy is following him, but much slower.”
“I knew it,” said Harvey. “They spotted us in the restaurant. If we try to follow Larson, the big fella will step in.”
“They spotted us?” asked Denver.
“Yeah, they recognised me somehow,” said Harvey. “Hang behind the BMW, let's see where this goes.”
“I don't see how they would recognise us,” said Melody. “Surely-”
“He recognised me. Larson locked eyes with me, and it was more than a casual glance. He knows something.”
“You think Arthur Bell?’
“That’s exactly what I’m thinking.”
Just then, the familiar sound of a police car’s siren came in two short bursts from behind the van. Harvey looked out the back window and saw the roof of the police Volvo behind them.
“Ah, you must be kidding,” said Denver.
“I’m guessing this isn’t a tug for a driving offence, Denver,” said Harvey. “Melody, if they take me away, get Frank on the case, but carry on after Larson.”
“You sure?”
“Positive,” Harvey replied. “You guys don't need to be wrapped up in this.”
Denver came to a stop on the shoulder of the busy A-road and stepped out the vehicle. Harvey had his hand on the handle of the sliding door but held it closed. He waited to hear the police officer speak, but Denver spoke first.
“Morning, officer, how can I help?” said Denver politely.
“Place your hands on the vehicle please, sir.”
“Excuse me?”
“Place your ha
nds on the vehicle.”
Denver leaned up against the van, and the police officer performed a search of his body. Denver didn’t carry his issued weapon, but it was tucked under the seat in a fixed holster, ready to pull at a moments notice. A quick search of the van would raise some difficult questions.
“You might want to check my ID, officer, it’s around my neck.”
“All in good time, sir,” the officer replied. He took his time searching Denver, feeling behind his belt, in his pockets, in the seams of his jacket, his shoes and socks.
“Aren’t you supposed to tell me what it is I’ve done?” said Denver.
“Can you place your hands behind your back please, sir?”
“What? What for?” said Denver, he was getting annoyed.
“Just place your hands behind your back, so I can perform a search of the passengers,” said the officer. His tone was flat and calm. He pulled the cuffs tight on Denver’s wrists.
Melody stepped out the van. “Excuse me, sir, I think you’re making a mistake.” She held up her ID and stepped towards the officer, who twisted her arm back and slammed up her up against the van.
“What the hell are you doing?” cried Denver. “She’s a cop for God’s sake.”
Harvey slid the door open and stepped out. “Stop, it’s me you want.” Harvey put his hands up. “Let her go, officer.”
The police officer stepped back but held onto Melody’s wrists. He slid the cuffs on and let her go. “Stand there,” he told her and pointed to a spot beside Denver.
“Harvey Stone?”
“That’s me.”
“Hands on the vehicle.” The officer gestured with his head to the van.
Harvey turned to the van and placed his hands high on the roof. The officer stepped behind Harvey, pulling another set of cuffs from his waist belt.
“Put your left hand only behind your back. That's your left hand only. Now.”
Harvey brought his left hand down and allowed the police officer to fix one side of the cuffs to it. Harvey watched him in the reflection of the van’s side window. The officer looked up to his right hand.
“Okay, now your-”
Harvey drove his right elbow back into the man's face, smashing the officer's nose. Before the man had a chance to react, Harvey grabbed onto the officer's neck and slammed his face into the van three times. Then he let the unconscious man fall to the ground.
“What the hell are you doing?” cried Denver.
“Harvey, you can’t-” said Melody.
“He’s either bent or a fake, my money’s on him being fake,” said Harvey.
“What makes you say that? You just beat up a police officer for God's sake, I’m not sure even Frank can help you there,” said Melody.
Harvey bent down and emptied the policeman's pockets. He pulled the keys from the imposter’s belt and uncuffed his colleagues.
“Denver, check the boot of that car will you?”
Denver walked to the police Volvo and opened the boot.
“You’re not going to believe this,” said Denver.
Melody walked over to join him.
“Is he alive?” asked Harvey, already knowing what they’d found.
“Yeah, he has a pulse,” said Melody.
“Injured?”
“No. Drugged or knocked out by the look of it, but there’s no blood or sign of injury anyway.”
“Well, get him out of the car, people might notice a black guy and a girl standing here with a cop in the boot of his own police car.”
Denver pulled the unconscious policeman up and lowered him to the floor, sitting him up against the side of the Volvo.
Harvey put the cuffs on the fake cop, opened the passenger door and ripped out the camera. He then found the hard drive storage unit it was connected to and ripped that out too.
He lifted the radio handset from the dash. “Officer down, officer down, three miles out of Braintree on the A131, assistance needed.” He replaced the handset. “Let's go,” he said to the others. Harvey climbed into the van and sat back down, putting the dash cam and hard drive on the floor beside him. “Now, people, let's move.”
Melody and Denver walked back to the van, and within five minutes they were clear of the scene and on a back road heading towards the A12 into London.
“What the hell just happened there?” asked Denver.
“Fake cop, two objectives,” said Harvey, “delay us, and take me out of the game.”
“Reg, you there?” said Melody.
“I’m here, I heard it all. Everybody okay?” replied Reg.
“We’re all good,” said Harvey. “I’m going to call your number from the fake cop’s phone, tell me what you know about it.” Harvey dialled Reg’s number.
Reg’s phone lit up. “Okay, I have it, give me a sec.”
“You still haven't told us how you knew he was a fake,” said Melody.
“He didn’t give a reason for tugging us, he was too rough with Denver and then you, then when he knew my name and didn’t call for assistance, I knew it had to be fake. I’m wanted for Arthur Bell’s murder right now. What policeman is going to try to arrest me and two other suspects on his own? Besides that, what policeman carries three sets of handcuffs unless they know they are going to be cuffing three people?”
“Okay I have it,” said Reg over the comms. “It’s a burner, but the call history is interesting.”
“One of Stimson’s?” asked Harvey.
“Without a doubt,” confirmed Reg.
“Thanks, Reg. What’s the update on Larson?”
“He’s on the A12 heading into London, he’s five miles out.”
“Is Frank in yet?” asked Harvey.
“Not yet,”
“Good, how do I turn all this stuff on?”
“What stuff?” asked Reg.
“The computers in the back of the van. There’s two computers, and I have a hard drive I want you to access.”
“Power up the one on the left, and plug the drive into the USB port on the front.”
Harvey leaned across and did as instructed. “Done.”
“Okay, sit tight, I’ll need a few minutes to access the computer over the satellite link,” said Reg.
“Okay we need a sitrep,” said Melody. “Frank sent us out to confirm Larson’s location and do a recce on the manor house, and so far Harvey’s wanted for a murder he didn't do, Larson has met with an unknown woman plus Stimson’s bodyguard, and now the woman has disappeared and Larson and the goon are heading into London. Not a great report, even by our standards.”
“Someone wants me out of the game,” said Harvey. “They tried to frame me for murder, then tried to kill me.”
“Kill you?” said Melody.
“Harvey leaned over into the passenger seat. “He was carrying this.” He handed her a Glock handgun.
“He’s not linked to the forces then,” said Melody. “They wouldn’t use this plastic crap,”
“Reg, it’s Harvey.”
“Go ahead.”
“How many chips are on me right now?” Reg was known for planting hidden chips on the team so that Frank could see where they were at all times. Frank had asked Reg to plant as many as possible on Harvey, who had a habit of finding them and throwing them onto buses or into the handbags of passing women. There was nothing malicious meant by it, it was just Harvey’s way of rejecting the noose around his neck.
“Five, Harvey,” said Reg, like he was admitting he had a drinking problem.
“Five?” said Harvey, incredulous.
“Five. Your phone, your jacket, your shoe, your gun and there’s one inside your ID.”
Harvey didn’t reply.
“There’s also two on your bike, but I can see that’s still at your home.”
“What’s your plan, Harvey?”
“The plan is coming,” he replied. “For now, just keep following Larson.”
“Ah, I can see the hard drive,” said Reg, “it’s video footage.”
“How long is it?” asked Harvey.
“Looks to be about an hour’s worth of two-minute clips. I think they roll the footage around, so it overwrites the earlier data with new data.”
“Okay, can you watch the last thirty minutes? Let me know what’s on there.”
“I’m watching it now,” said Reg. “It’s like watching a really boring episode of that TV show about police chases.”
12
Discovery
Harvey sat in the back of the van with his back against Melody’s seat. He answered a call, and held his phone to his ear. “Frank?”
“Stone, talk to me, I’m hearing strange things from above, being asked questions I don't know the answers-”
“Get me on the comms, Frank, my phone is compromised.”
Harvey disconnected the call and turned the phone off. Melody turned in her seat.
“Compromised?” she asked.
“How else would they know where I am and where I live?”
“So we should assume all our phones are compromised?” asked Melody.
“Turn them on when you really need to, otherwise we use the comms.”
“Reg, are the comms encrypted?”
“Yes they are. The phones are not though, it’s a public network, so I don't control them. The boss is here, sit tight.”
“Stone, I need an update. It’s not looking good from my end,” said Frank.
“I believe Stimson or Larson has managed to get my identity,” said Harvey. “I found a body in my house last night, then the police came knocking, serious crime squad, and about thirty minutes ago, one of Stimson’s guys tried to kill me. He took out a traffic cop, dumped him in the back of his patrol car and pulled us over just as we were tailing Larson.”
“Do we have proof of that?”
“Of the body? Not yet.”
“Of the kidnapping and the alleged assault of the police officer?”
“We have enough to keep the guy in custody. We cuffed him and left him on the side of the road, then called it in. I imagine he’s getting a hiding in the back of a meat wagon as we speak.”
“Where are you all now?”
“On the A12, sir,” said Denver. “We’re thirty minutes out from the city, maybe less.”