by Jack Probyn
‘Armitage, ma’am.’
‘And you’re sure? There’s nothing we can do to save her?’
Armitage glanced behind his shoulder before turning his attention back to Pemberton. ‘The device is intricately manufactured. The locks are all connected to different wires. When we used the first two keys, it severed the cables. I followed where they led to… nowhere. We just cut open two pieces of copper wrapped in plastic. That was it. There also seems to be a tripwire on the edges of the device, so that if we try to open the seal, whatever’s inside will detonate for sure. But I also found something else…’
‘What?’ Pemberton asked, her mouth dry.
‘A phone.’
‘A phone?’ Pemberton asked.
‘A phone.’ Armitage nodded as he said it.
Pemberton’s skin went cold. ‘Why wasn’t this picked up when you inspected the device?’
‘It was hidden, ma’am, behind a solid piece of metal. I just thought it was a part of the design. But since we introduced the keys to the device, it opened – almost as if it were some sort of treasure that we unlocked.’
‘What does it mean for the device?’ Pemberton asked, even though she already knew the answer. ‘That it can be remotely detonated?’
‘It looks that way, ma’am.’
‘What are the keys for then? Why go to all that trouble if they’re going to remotely detonate it anyway?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe they’re a decoy. Something to keep us occupied. But I wish I had better news for you.’
‘No,’ Pemberton said, stunned. She found herself struggling for the words that would have usually come so easy to her. ‘You’re doing a fantastic job. Keep up the good work.’
| EPISODE 3 |
CHAPTER SEVEN
INCOMING
The telephones in the office bleated. Each device played together in a symphony of noise across the room. Danika lunged forward and grabbed the phone. It was an instinctive reaction, one that had been ingrained in her from her time as a receptionist back in Slovenia. But as she held the phone in her hands, she regretted the decision to pick it up. She was new, untrained and knew nothing about any of the goings on in Surrey Police.
‘DC Oblak,’ she said carefully, making sure not to pronounce her name wrong.
‘Is this Surrey MCT? Have I come through to the right department?’
‘Yes. Who’s calling, please?’
‘Forgive me, I’m calling from Surrey control. We’ve just received a suspicious call from someone claiming to be a member of the organised crime group called The Crimsons… I understand you’re dealing with the robbery in Guildford?’
Danika’s attention narrowed in on the microphone in her ear; she drowned out all the ambient noise and listened intently to the woman’s voice. This was her chance.
‘Our officers are dealing with the case right now.’
‘They said they needed to speak with the SIO. They said someone’s going to die if they don’t speak with them.’
Sránje. Sránje sránje sránje. Her heart beat fast and her mind fogged. She was panicking again. That was going to have to stop if she was going to progress any further in her career. She couldn’t afford to be fazed by the earliest signs of trouble. Miren. Inhalirati. Odviti. Calm. Breathe. Relax. She inhaled and exhaled slowly through her nose and mouth.
‘Thank you for letting us know,’ she said. ‘I’ll find the right person for you to speak with. One moment please.’
Danika looked at the phone console. Her eyes searched for the mute button and eventually found it a second later. Holding the phone in her hand still, she leapt up and scanned the office for someone to help. Those nearest to her were either on the phone already or walking away from her.
She looked for Mark. He was the Deputy SIO, he would help.
As soon as she spun around, he appeared.
‘You look frightened,’ he said, bearing a big grin. ‘What’s up?’
Danika explained.
‘You’re joking?’ he asked, his brow creased.
Danika shook her head.
‘I’ll call Pemberton.’ He dialled her number and held it to his ears. Within seconds she answered.
‘Boss? Hello? It’s me. We’ve got an issue. One of The Cipriano brothers has just called 999 and is asking to speak with you directly… Yes?… I don’t know. You’re right. OK…. That’ll take a moment to set up, but we can do it.’
Mark hung up and disappeared towards the other end of the room. She watched him bark orders to other members of the team, and a clutch of them came rushing over to her desk.
‘What are you doing?’ she asked.
‘Tracing the number. If we can get that, we trace the call and find them.’ He gestured for him to use the phone in Danika’s hand. Reluctantly, she ceded control.
‘This is DI Murphy, acting SIO,’ he said into the receiver once the wiretap was set up. ‘What’s the mobile number and the IMEI that the civilian is calling from?’ He made a note of the number and flagged it to everyone else around them. ‘Please hold a moment while I put you through to the right person.’
| EPISODE 3 |
CHAPTER EIGHT
AN EYE FOR AN EYE
‘This is DCI Pemberton.’
The words sounded like a song in Danny’s ear. After just under five minutes of waiting, he had finally managed to get through to the person in charge.
‘Good afternoon, DCI Pemberton,’ he said, keeping his voice monotonous and deep.
‘Who am I speaking with?’
‘Names aren’t important.’
‘I’ve given you mine.’
‘Quid pro quo? Is that how you want to play it? Like Hannibal Lector and Clarice Starling?’ There was no response. ‘Do you need me to silence the lambs, DCI Pemberton?’
Still no response.
Danny was testing how far he could take Pemberton’s temperament. Dipping his toe in the waters of sarcasm and belligerence. And he was revelling in the excitement of it.
‘You still there, officer?’
‘I don’t think the line’s very good. You must be in a bad signal area?’
‘Nope. Don’t think so.’
‘Where are you?’
‘Somewhere we won’t be for too long.’
‘You still haven’t told me your name. If we’re going to give a tit for tat, I need to know you’re fully on board.’
‘Danny.’
‘And what do you want, Danny?’
Danny smirked. ‘What do you think of the collar bomb? Spectacular, isn’t it?’
‘Depravity is what it is.’
‘I’m disappointed you don’t appreciate it. A lot of time and effort went into making that. Aren’t you lot supposed to take an objective look at things?’
The car slowed to a gradual halt and the number of vehicles either side of them increased. Danny leant into the centre of the car and peered through the windscreen. Traffic stretched in front of him for as far as he could see, and more cars were beginning to pile up behind them as well.
A car horn sounded beside them.
‘What’s that noise?’ Pemberton asked. ‘Are you in a spot of traffic. Let’s hope we don’t catch up with you.’
‘You won’t.’
‘You sure of that?’
‘You like wasting questions, don’t you? Would you have wasted them if I’d told you that you only had three to begin with?’
‘What are you—’
‘Are you sure you want to use that as your final one, detective?’
There was a long pause. Danny waited, but he soon became bored.
‘How far behind us are you? With the keys, I mean. Find any?’
‘We’ve only found the one.’
Danny pulled the phone away from his ear, placed DCI Pemberton on loudspeaker and opened his text messages. He opened the first chat at the top and scrolled through the latest texts.
‘Danny? You still with me?’
Danny snapped to. ‘Y
ou say you’ve found one key?’
‘Yes,’ she replied.
Liar. Evidence suggests otherwise, love.
‘Which one did you find? The one inside the house?’ Before Pemberton had a chance to respond, he continued. ‘We wanted to make it nice and easy for you.’
‘We’ve got a lot to thank you for.’
‘You sound unappreciative.’
‘That’s a habit of mine. My husband tells me it’s something I need to work on.’
‘You been together long?’ Danny probed.
‘I’ll tell you that when you answer my question: what’s going to happen to Candice? We know about the mobile… the remote detonation.’
Well, shit. Danny hadn’t expected them to discover the mobile so soon. He had tried his hardest to bury it deep within the complex inner workings of the bomb.
His hand moved to his overall pocket. Inside was a small key. It was metallic and cold to the touch. His thoughts turned to Candice, crying on the floor, squirming, begging for her life in front of Michael and Luke and the Good Samaritan. He squeezed the key in his hand until it dug into his skin.
Danny exhaled deeply. The traffic hadn’t moved while they’d been talking, and the idle sound of the engine purring underneath reminded him they were still a long way away.
‘If you didn’t appreciate the collar at first, then hopefully by the end of it all you will,’ he said softly.
‘What do you mean?’
‘There are three layers to it. The keys. The timer. The phone. If you get all the keys, you disarm the charge. If you do it before the deadline, you disarm the charge. And if you find the phone that detonates it remotely, you’ll disarm the charge.’
‘How do we find the phone?’
‘I have it. I’m calling you now on it. The only way you’ll get that is by arresting me.’
‘Nothing would give me greater satisfaction right now,’ Pemberton said. ‘But how do I know you won’t just detonate it now?’
‘I like to play fairly. I’ll give you some time. My recommendation would be to find the keys instead. You’ve got three more to go and not long left on the countdown.’ He rubbed the key in his hand. ‘Although, I have a sneaky suspicion you’ll struggle with the final one. I made it extra difficult to find.’ He whispered so that his voice was inaudible to Luke and Michael over the sound of the radio. ‘Especially if I’ve got it in my pocket,’ he said. Returning his voice back to normal, he continued, ‘If you’re not quick enough, detective, Candice is going to die today. Soon she’ll be nothing more than a lifeless body without a head. And her blood will be on your hands. Goodbye.’
Danny hung up the phone, removed the SIM and snapped it in half. He rolled down the window and threw it onto the motorway. There was no way the police would be able to track them now.
| EPISODE 3 |
CHAPTER NINE
MAIDEN
‘Luke, Danny and Michael Cipriano. That’s who you’re looking for,’ Freddy said, with a cup of water in his hands. ‘But not in that order. Danny’s the eldest, Luke the youngest. Five years separates them. And there’s not a hint of Italian in any of them, other than their surname and strong family bond.’
‘What about their parents?’ Jake asked. He sat with his elbows resting against the edge of the table and his hands knitted together. He had a pen and paper in front of him, but he made little use of it. The most important information would be stored in his brain.
‘Both English.’
‘That’s not what I meant… what did they do?’
Freddy eased deeper into his chair and rolled his left sleeve back, revealing a wrist so skinny Jake saw the tendons and river of veins disappearing into the material. ‘The dad was in the military. And the mum did a runner on them when they were really young; she ran off with some other fella. He had money and, I can only assume, a smaller cock. It had to compensate for something, I guess.’
‘What happened when the dad was in the military?’
‘He gave them up to a foster home. He couldn’t afford to look after them and serve his country. It would appear he favoured the Queen and all her horses more than he did his own flesh and blood.’
‘Where did he serve in the army?’
‘Afghanistan. I don’t know which regiment exactly, but I know he dealt with explosives of some description.’
Jake nodded. ‘That explains where the spiked collar bomb came from.’
‘That thing that Danny created is a technically difficult device to conceive of, let alone make. I’m surprised he managed it.’
‘You and I have got very different philosophies on praising people. How do you know it was him that made it?’
Freddy rolled his eyes. ‘He never shut the fuck up about it when we were working together. All the time. How he wanted to build something – do something – that would make him one of the most notorious armed robbers in existence.’
‘He must have had help from somewhere?’
‘Not that I know of. And not me, if that’s what you’re insinuating. I wanted nothing to do with it. Besides, I haven’t seen them boys in years. Not even a letter or anything.’
‘I’m sure they’ve got their reasons. Least of all trying to lay low. As soon as they come to visit you, the first thing someone’s going to do is arrest them.’
‘But not even a letter?’ Freddy rolled his right sleeve higher up his wrist. ‘They could have done that anonymously. I kept them safe while I’ve been in here. Protected then. When I was interrogated, they offered me a leaner sentence in exchange for information on them. But I didn’t give it to them. I gave my life for those kids. I kept quiet. And now look at the thanks I get.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Jake said. ‘We’ll catch them.’
‘I’m not worried about you catching them. I’m more worried about them doing something stupid. They’ve not followed the usual pattern. Before, we liked to keep things simple. Rush in, scare the shit out of people with the guns, and then get back out again. But this time’s different. This is the first time Danny’s been in charge of a raid, and it follows none of the patterns from our previous ones. He’s gone rogue. I mean, they’ve fired shots. They’ve spent cases, something we never did when I was in charge – you can vouch for that.’
Jake nodded.
‘Danny’s gone more sadistic. And I doubt they’re following the protocol for after the heist, either.’
‘What was the protocol?’ Jake asked.
Freddy leant forward in his chair. Two feet separated them now. Face to face.
‘Have you got a map?’ he asked.
Jake looked at him perplexed. When he arrived at the prison, he’d handed in all his possessions – including his phone and wallet. ‘I don’t have my AA map with me unfortunately.’
‘Well, you’re going to need one,’ Freddy said.
Exhaling deeply, Jake lifted himself out of his chair, hurried over to the door and spoke with the officers standing guard outside. He ordered them to bring him a map, and within seconds, they returned. As Jake scurried back to the desk, he was already unraveling the pages.
He set the map of England down on the table and placed his hands on the corners to stop it from folding itself over.
‘Our first hit was here.’ Freddy pointed to Newcastle. ‘And then we moved down to Leeds, Leicester, Oxford and now Guildford.’ Freddy pointed to each corresponding location as he went through the list. ‘For each hit, we had a designated extraction point – somewhere we’d go and hide the fuck away from everything. Once it had all died down, we’d just slip out of the city and stay somewhere else. That’s how we got away with it. Nobody knew who they were looking for. And we always had extra help.’
Jake’s ears perked up. ‘Extra help?’
Freddy slid the map back to Jake and made a pig noise. The sound reverberated around the walls.
Jake said nothing; his face fell flat, bemused.
‘Come on, Jake,’ Freddy began, ‘you didn’t seriously think
we could do it all on our own? All those years. Never a single arrest.’
‘I…’
‘We had help from the inside every single time. But you were the anomaly we weren’t counting on. There was a cockup with our contact. He got delayed and then you decided to be a hero and got in the way.’
‘What about now? Have they got someone helping them?’
A smile grew on Freddy’s face.
‘You see, now this is the part where you need to make good on your guarantee that I’ll be able to meet Sammy while I’m in here.’
Jake bit his lip. ‘You know I can’t force them to do anything.’
‘You’d better find a way.’
‘I will. I’ll speak with her in person.’
Freddy paused a beat. He raised his eyebrows, winked and said, ‘Make sure you tell her I’m helping you out. Make me seem like a good guy for once. That I want to atone for my mistakes. Some bullshit like that.’
‘I think you’re well past that point, Freddy.’
Freddy snorted and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. ‘Anyway, in answer to your question: I don’t know. This hit was organised after I got sent down. I wish I could tell you more.’
Jake lowered his gaze to the table, looked at the map and ran his finger down the country. As his finger fell over Oxford, an idea popped into his head. He glanced up at Freddy.
‘All of your heists… each one got further and further south?’ he said.
‘Exactly. Why do you think that is?’
Jake shrugged. ‘Because there’s more money down here?’
Freddy brandished his middle finger and aimed it at Jake. ‘Think bigger. Think differently. You’re an intelligent guy – I’m sure you can work it out.’
Jake looked at the map again. His eyes ran along the south coast of England from right to left. Brighton. Portsmouth. Southampton. Bournemouth. His eyes went back to Portsmouth. Dozens of thin blue lines ejected from the city in a spider’s web.