The Conspiracy 3

by Jack Probyn

‘Port,’ Jake said slowly. ‘Portsmouth Harbour?’

  Freddy nodded. ‘Distinction. Top of the class. Well done. When we started, we made a pact. We decided that we would head down the country, taking more and more money with us, taking bigger and bigger risks, and then we’d get the fuck out of here like a whore in the night. Your boys, if there’s nothing else they’ve made good on, won’t be staying still. They’ll be on the move. They’ll be heading towards a ferry that’ll ship them out of the country. And then you’ll never see them again. How much did they take in Guildford?’

  ‘I don’t know. Couple hundred thousand? Half a mil? Maybe more. It was a jewellery store.’

  Nodding, Freddy said, ‘Add that to what we took in our previous hits and they’re going to be smuggling over two million out of the country. Easy.’

  ‘How? How are they going to smuggle that much?’

  Freddy smirked. ‘You’re so naïve, Jake. You’ve got a lot to learn. I can tell the past couple of years have taught you nothing.’

  ‘Just tell me how, Freddy.’

  ‘A few ways: the friends in high places, the friends in low places and the friends in middle places. They’ll have contacts who can facilitate the expatriation of all that money. They’ll be looking to export a lot of bags out of this country.’

  ‘Where are they going?’ Jake asked.

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Bullshit.’

  ‘It’s true.’

  ‘Come on, Freddy. You expect me to believe that you never discussed where you would end up after this was all done?’

  Freddy held a hand in the air. ‘We discussed it, yes. But we never settled on anything – or anywhere – concrete. They could be going to Australia for all I know.’

  ‘Would they have booked the tickets under their own name?’

  Freddy shook his head. ‘Unlikely. We all had fake passports – purchased them from a guy called Mick “The Mandate” – just in case you guys did manage to identify us.’

  ‘What were your aliases?’

  ‘They’ve changed by now. You’ve got to give them some credit. We had a rule that, if one of us was caught or anything happened to us, we would change everything like that, in an instant, just in case someone grassed to the police.’

  Jake hung his head low.

  ‘I know it’s not the breakthrough you were looking for, but it’s all I can give you.’ Freddy twisted his neck left and right, clicking the joints. ‘But there is one silver lining…’

  Freddy let the comment hang in the air.

  ‘Go on…’

  Freddy cleared his throat before continuing. ‘If there is one name they would have changed it to – at least one of the brothers – it would be their mother’s maiden name.’

  ‘Which is…?’

  ‘Harrington.’

  | EPISODE 3 |

  CHAPTER TEN

  MUG

  The engine revved beneath Bridger’s feet. The muscles in his body clenched – especially his hands wrapped around the steering wheel – as he tore through the seventeen miles of tarmac that separated them from their next destination: Dunsfold Aerodrome.

  It had taken him some time to work out the fourth clue, but with a little help from the Internet and Smithers, he’d got it.

  As they pulled into the airspace, Bridger was taken aback. He leant forward and gawped at the enormous hangar in front of him.

  ‘This place is huge,’ he said, switching off the engine.

  Dunsfold was not on par with Heathrow or Gatwick certainly. But if their search was for a key the size of a thumbnail, they would be there for hours – if not days. The runway was in the shape of a triangle, and a series of air hangers ran along the west side of the track. On the opposite side, decommissioned aeroplanes were left to rot and rust, weeds and patches of grass sprouting from the ground offering a welcome change in colour to the monotonous grey that surrounded them.

  ‘Any ideas where it could be?’ Smithers asked him.

  ‘Let me see the note again,’ Bridger said, holding his hand out.

  Smithers removed the note from his pocket and passed it to Bridger; the sergeant reread it.

  ‘No clue. And there’s no one around to help us.’

  ‘Maybe we could—’

  Bridger cut the man off with a wave of his hand. He had an idea. He pulled his phone from his back pocket and dialled Pemberton’s number. It went straight through to voicemail.

  ‘Maybe we could ask to check the CCTV? One of the brothers would have had to enter this place to leave the key here. They must have been picked up on something…’ the officer continued.

  ‘Assuming they have CCTV.’ Bridger dismissed the man’s idea. What was it with junior officers making suggestions? This constable was the second to try it today, and it was beginning to seriously grate on him. He was the one who had put in the years of hard work and dedication to get to where he was now. He was the one who had licked as much arse as he could to get to the point where he could make important decisions. He didn’t need some red-nosed, baby-faced arsehole telling him how to do his job.

  He tried Pemberton again. This time she answered.

  ‘What is it now?’ she snapped.

  ‘Boss, I—’

  ‘What do you want, Elliot? We’ve just had direct contact from The Crimsons.’

  ‘Oh shit.’

  ‘Oh shit, indeed. Now, what do you want?’

  ‘What did they say?’ Bridger asked. He sensed the urgency and dread in her voice.

  ‘Where are you?’

  Bridger looked around him and admired the brilliant feats of machinery in the background of the airfield. ‘Dunsfold,’ he said. ‘This place is too big for us to find anything in time.’

  ‘You won’t find anything,’ Pemberton added. Her voice went hoarse as she said it. ‘I have reason to believe the final key isn’t where the instructions say they are. I believe Danny Cipriano has it.’

  ‘What makes you believe that?’ Bridger asked, stepping away from Smithers so that any residual noise of their conversation was out of earshot.

  ‘The fact that he told me over the phone… I think he wants Candice Strachan to die. Bomb squad found a phone inside the collar device which means it can be detonated remotely. Danny has both the phone and the key. The Crimsons never intended for us to save her.’

  ‘It was all a distraction?’

  ‘Yes.’ Pemberton’s voice sounded weak.

  ‘Where are they? Did they tell you where they’re headed?’

  ‘We set up a trace on the call, but we lost it as soon as the call ended. The number disappeared – he must have switched the phone off. I’m told the last ping from the cell tower was somewhere near Portsmouth.’

  ‘Portsmouth? Why?’

  ‘Maybe they’re trying to smuggle themselves out of the country.’

  Bridger hesitated before responding. ‘Have you heard from Tanner?’

  ‘No. Not since he went to Winchester,’ Pemberton finally replied.

  Bridger took a step away from Smithers and lowered his voice. ‘Do you think we need to be careful around him?’

  ‘What do you mean?’ It was clear to him that she wasn’t in the mood to defend or fight anymore.

  ‘How do we know he’s not in with them?’ Bridger began. ‘I mean, think about it. The first time he comes across them is on their last robbery in Oxford, and he sets one of them up to take the fall. I read the paperwork on the case after it happened, and he never explained what really happened inside that bank. How do we know they didn’t plan something? Freddy took the rap so Jake could get out free and become the new leader of the gang. It worked out perfectly. Now Tanner’s getting cosy with the police, while working on the side with The Crimsons for today’s hit.’

  ‘You have an overactive imagination, Elliot.’

  Bridger paused a beat to catch his breath. ‘Think about it, Nic – he rocks up today on his first day with us. And, on the same day, The Crimsons strike. Seems li
ke too much of a coincidence to me. And Danika as well – both of them, here together. I’m certain she’s got something to do with it too – feeding him information that comes into the office. And why do you think he wanted to speak with Freddy alone? They’re working together, and they’ve taken us both for mugs.’

  A long silence followed. Bridger didn’t know whether he’d lost signal, or whether Pemberton was in a deep state of reflection. Eventually, a light groan told him it was the latter.

  ‘What do we do?’ she asked.

  ‘I say we need to keep an eye on him. Keep him close. He knows something he’s not telling us.’

  ‘I… I just can’t see it happening.’

  ‘It’s the people you least expect to hurt us that do.’

  ‘And if you’re wrong?’ she asked.

  Bridger shifted the phone from one ear to the other and scratched the side of his head where the phone had just been. He glanced up at Smithers.

  ‘We’d better hope I am.’

  | EPISODE 3 |

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  HARRINGTON

  Danika had been sitting at her desk for hours and her lower back was beginning to flare up. It was an annoying sensation, deeply rooted in her spine – as if someone was constantly prodding and poking it – and no matter what angle she positioned herself in, the tiniest movement set it off and sent a shockwave of agony up and down her body. She winced, clenched her fist and allowed her palm to absorb the brunt of the pain. On a few occasions, she had drawn blood, but it was nothing a quick wipe on her trouser leg wouldn’t sort out.

  Less than ten minutes had passed since the surprise call from one of The Crimson brothers. Since then, the office had been sent into a hive of activity. A trace had been placed on the number and emergency responders were being sent to the location rapidly from the local Hampshire police force. Information was being dug out on Danny’s, Michael’s and Luke’s lives. But Danika had paid little attention to the goings-on in the office. She had doubled down on her own investigation, focusing her efforts on the life and times of Candice Strachan.

  As she reached across the desk for a highlighter, an email popped into her inbox. It was one of the information requests she’d submitted. She opened the email and read through the report, her eyes widening as her mind absorbed the text.

  She had something! Finally. Something of use to the investigation. But where was Mark? She craned her head over the desk, searching for him, but he was nowhere to be seen. In fact, she hadn’t seen him since the phone call had ended.

  Before she could do anything, her phone vibrated. She answered it without checking the caller ID.

  ‘Can you talk?’ the voice asked. It was Jake. His voice sounded hoarse and dry, as if he’d been talking for hours without a break.

  ‘This is a bad—’

  ‘The Crimsons are heading south,’ he interrupted. ‘I’ve just got out of a discussion with Freddy Miller, and he confirmed they were trying to get out of the country.

  ‘We’ve just had a call from one of the brothers. Danny—’

  ‘Cipriano,’ Jake said, finishing her sentence for her. ‘What did he want? What did he say?’

  ‘He spoke with DCI Pemberton. He told her that there are several ways to detonate the collar, and that he’s got the final key. After the call we traced the number to the outskirts of Portsmouth. But that’s not everything,’ Danika said. She was getting excited now. All thought of Mark had flown out of her mind. She was getting a kick out of sharing her findings – her ego needed massaging just as much as anyone’s. ‘I’ve got some of the information you requested on Candice Strachan. Turns out her recent movements have been incredibly suspicious. In fact, everything about her has…’

  ‘I’m listening,’ Jake said in her ear.

  ‘SOCO found a tonne of bank statements and financial records of hers in her house – both personal and business. According to them, she loved shopping. A lot. But I’m not just talking about any old shopping sprees, I’m talking thousands of pounds’ worth of transactions, luscious trips abroad, expensive restaurants—’

  ‘None of this sounds incredibly surprising, Danika.’

  ‘Wait. Let me get to the point and stop interrupting. All of that normal behaviour was used to mask something else.’ She ran her finger down the page. ‘On the twentieth and twenty-fifth of last month, she made a trip to the local bank and B&Q store.’

  ‘Right?’

  ‘This woman has never been to a B&Q in her life as far back as her bank records go. And, to make it worse, her debit card registered the payments in Oxford.’

  ‘Do you know what she purchased?’

  ‘I’ve spoken with the company, and they confirmed that, in accordance with their records, she purchased a set of four separate locks.’

  ‘You’re shitting me.’

  ‘I wish I was. But that’s not everything.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I’ve looked into her records a little further, and I’ve noticed that, in the past year, Candice has been renting a storage unit in Southampton. It’s all in her name.’

  There was a long pause.

  ‘Oh my God. Freddy Miller just told me that the brothers are going to be smuggling their money out of the country. They’re using Candice’s storage units to do it,’ Jake said.

  ‘You’re not suggesting what I think you’re suggesting, are you?’

  ‘Did you ever follow up with that CCTV request from the golf club?’

  The change in conversation stunted her. ‘Yes… I, er, I passed it to DI Murphy. He told me to run everything by him.’

  ‘And you’ve not heard anything back?’

  ‘No. I…’

  ‘Danika,’ Jake began, ‘who else knows about the storage units?’

  At that moment, her thoughts turned to Mark, and then she remembered that he’d instructed her to run all information by him first before sharing it with Jake.

  ‘You’re the only one who knows about this.’

  ‘Keep it that way. When I spoke with Freddy, he told me that they always used to have inside help. I think you need to be very careful about who you can trust.’

  Danika lowered herself into her seat, wincing as the bolts of pain shot across her lower back. She surveyed the room, observing those around her, scrutinising their every move.

  Jake sighed and then the sound of a car engine sounded in her ear.

  ‘I need you to find something else out for me, too,’ he said. ‘I need to know Candice Strachan’s maiden name.’

  Danika leafed frantically through her notes. She knew she’d scribbled it down somewhere – it was just a case of finding it. Even though he didn’t say anything to her, she sensed his patience dwindling.

  ‘Yes!’ she screamed, brandishing the small Post-It note she’d scribbled on. ‘I found it earlier.’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Harrington.’

  | EPISODE 3 |

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  HARD SHOULDER TO CRY ON

  Danny fidgeted in his seat and scratched the back of his neck. The traffic hadn’t moved since he’d hung up the phone with the woman named Pemberton and every fibre in his being was on high alert. What if the police had blocked off the A3 and were charging towards them now? What if those helicopters he heard in the distance were looking for them? It would have been his fault. Every part of their plan so far had been meticulous. They had left no trace, and they had left nothing behind that would lead the police to Portsmouth. So what was taking so fucking long?

  Danny slapped the back of Luke’s chair in anger.

  ‘We better not miss this boat,’ he said.

  ‘What time’s it leave?’ Luke asked.

  ‘Two p.m.,’ Michael answered. He spun a zippo lighter between his fingers. Danny sensed his brother was dying for a smoke. In fact, they all were. But none of them had any with them.

  ‘We’re going to have to move. Otherwise we’ll be late. Luke – pull out and go into the hard shoulde
r.’

  Luke, taking his orders as he should, rotated the steering wheel and started turning the car to the left. He was quickly stopped by Micky’s hand on the wheel.

  ‘As soon as you do that, the traffic will start moving. It’s sod’s law.’

  ‘I don’t give a shit,’ Danny said, throwing his hands in the air. ‘Sod sod’s law. None of this traffic is moving anyway. If we go into the hard shoulder, we’ll be the only ones actually doing something.’

  Michael shook his head. ‘I think it’s the wrong decision – it’s not that much further to Portsmouth. There’s still time.’

  Leaning forward in his seat, ignoring the biting seat belt in his shoulder, Danny said, ‘Well, why don’t we ask Luke – after all, you’re a grown man now, Luke. You’ve proved that much today. You get to make the choice on your own.’

  Luke licked his lips as he contemplated for a moment. His answer was obvious: he slipped the car into first and swerved through a thin gap between the car beside them and the hard shoulder. They bumped into the car as they manoeuvred their way through. A cacophony of horns travelled up and down the traffic. The three brothers cheered as they drove past everyone who had been forced to sit there. Danny contemplated sticking his middle finger out at the rest of the world but decided against it. The world of technology was growing at an alarming rate, and the last thing he wanted was his face to appear on social media because some little shit with a smartphone had decided to snap him.

  Their excitement, however, lasted a matter of seconds.

  Luke was the first to notice the flashing lights of the police vehicle behind them. Then Danny, and then Michael.

  ‘It’s fine. Just play it cool. Is this the first police car we’ve seen?’ Danny’s pulse raised as he spun in the seat, peering out the back window.

  ‘I think so.’

  Luke continued to drive for another hundred yards.

  ‘Pull over, mate,’ Danny said. ‘See if they go past.’