‘Nick, get an artist to do a mock-up of the tattoo. Make sure both Sam and Bill get to see it, verify it, and advise on corrections. Then get it run through every image database on the planet. Somebody must know what it means.
‘Is Neil back? Anyone?’
‘Not yet Jay.’ Came a reply from the other side of the room.
‘Well get him back here, there’s no point him being at the pub anymore. I want the name Nathan Raynor known to every law enforcement officer in the country. Get MI6 to start increasing air and sea border surveillance. I shouldn’t think he’s going to do a runner, but we can’t be sure.’
Sam sat at a desk with a computer and monitor. The AV control panel sat in front of him. Dials and controls, a plethora of multi-coloured buttons, each having its own function. He tried to shut out the noises around him as he used a jog-wheel to move, frame-by-frame, through the CCTV footage.
The task needed concentration. Though camera technology had advanced considerably over the last few years, mainly due to developments in smartphone technology, very few companies or council's upgraded their security and surveillance equipment.
Sam stared at the grainy image from a dome-camera on the corner of Berwick Street and Broadwick Street. The curved fish-eye image difficult to look at for too long. He slowly turned the jog-wheel, the picture jerked from frame to frame like a 1920’s cinema reel.
Suddenly, his pulse quickened as the back of a large, muscular man came into view. In blue jeans, black t-shirt, and trainers, his size and confident swagger left Sam in no doubt that it was Raynor. Even though the peak of the baseball cap he was wearing cast shadow over what could be seen off his face, and the height and angle of the camera made it all but impossible to pick out features, Sam knew it was him.
‘Jay! I’ve got him.’ The timestamp in the corner of the screen read 13:23.
‘The time fits. About fifteen minutes before the explosion.’
Virani went to Sam’s workstation and looked at the screen.
‘He’s a rather large chap,’ she observed as she pulled a chair up and sat down. ‘Hard to lose him in a crowd. Now, you’re sure it’s him?’
The image of Raynor stopped on the corner of Broadwick Street and put a mobile phone to his ear. He held a brown paper grocery bag in his other hand, rolled up at the top, exposing a rectangular outline of its contents.
‘Yeah, that’s him, no doubt. If we can get his face, we can track him.’ Said Sam.
‘I think he’s too clued up to give us a mugshot Sam, but you never know. Pop it into double speed, we can slow it down if something interesting happens.’
The picture sped up. Raynor remained on the corner, talking on his mobile. Virani was the first to spot the tramp.
‘Stop.’ She instructed, as she pointed to the image of a stooped man walking toward the corner where Raynor was waiting.
‘Do you think it was planned?’ She asked.
‘What, Bill and Raynor know each other? I can’t see it myself, but it’s worth asking Bill, as he’s still enjoying our hospitality.’ Sam replied.
‘Good point. Neil!’ Barford, back from his trip to Soho, meandered over to Sam and Jay.
‘Yes Jay?’ He asked, sheepishly. He sometimes struggled with women in positions of authority. He himself didn’t know why, but he sometimes just felt awkward around them. On a night out though, he was known for showing a more lascivious side to his character.
‘As Nick’s still with the photo fit artist, I want you to visit our friend Billy in IR3. See if he knows who Raynor is, if they have history.’
Virani was sure that Barford’s casual, laid-back approach to life might put Bill at ease, help to coerce a bit more information from him.
‘Fair play, I’ll do it now.’ Barford made his way to the door and disappeared into the adjoining corridor, cranking up his gears to an almost walking speed.
‘Right, let’s go Sam, normal speed, let’s see if there are any signs of familiarity between the two of them.’
They watched as the old man made his way to the junction. He passed Raynor. No reaction. Then Raynor seemed to notice him, did a double-take and put his phone in his pocket.
Raynor followed the man and tapped him gently on the shoulder. The tramp turned at speed to face Raynor, ready for a fight. A natural reaction honed by spending years fending for himself, suffering the prejudices of being homeless, suffering the beatings from strangers, the unprovoked attacks. He saw Raynor and immediately looked defeated. He started to back away. It was obvious, these two had never met. Sam and Virani exchanged a glance. They knew it too.
They continued to watch.
The tramp started edging backwards. Raynor was trying to placate him. Waving at him in an ‘I won’t hurt you.’ gesture. Eventually, Raynor dug into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a roll of banknotes. Bill was immediately interested. He lowered his guard, visibly relaxed. Raynor slipped some notes from the roll and held them up to Bill. The tramp tried to grab them, but Raynor was too quick and moved them out of reach. Raynor shook his head, turned and started walking away.
The tramp followed, tugging the big man’s t-shirt. Pleading. Sam was sure that if the image wasn’t so poor he’d be able to read the tramps lips saying ‘Okay, I’ll do it.’
Raynor eventually gave in and handed over the money. Bill took the grocery bag and started walking up toward a litter bin, next to the replica water pump.
Raynor once again put his phone to his ear. He started talking while watching the old man. The perfect disguise. Just another bloke on a street using his phone, in a world full of people all tethered to their mobile phones. Sam stopped the footage.
‘Well I think we can agree that they didn’t know each other before today.’ He said.
Virani nodded her agreement. ‘Let it play a bit longer, Sam. Where does Raynor go?’
They watched as Raynor continued to nonchalantly talk on his mobile. When he seemed satisfied that Bill had earned his money, Raynor turned and started to walk up Berwick Street.
‘He’s going for Oxford Street.’ Virani remarked. ‘One of the busiest streets in London, and two of the busiest tube stations within easy reach. I feel I spoke a bit too soon when I said it would be hard to lose him in a crowd. If he heads to the tube, we’ve lost him.’
‘But the tubes have cameras Jay. Surely we can keep track of him?’
‘Too many blind spots, Sam. Pillars and columns that he could simply stand behind for a few minutes, possibly even jump on another train, or get caught up in a throng of travellers. I’d be impressed if you managed to follow him.’
Sam kept selecting the recorded feeds from cameras along Raynor’s path. A few minutes passed and Raynor joined Oxford Street. He turned left onto the busy shopping street and was already more difficult to follow with the mass of shoppers and tourists around him. They managed to track him a bit longer before he disappeared into Oxford Circus tube station.
‘Don’t worry Sam.’ Said Virani. ‘We know who he is now, we’ll have him in no time.’
She stood up, pushed her chair under the desk.
‘Go home for the night, spend some time with Jack and Julia, I’ve a feeling things are going to get pretty hectic.’
Sam smiled, then rubbed his hands down his face, exhaling heavily, blowing the stress of the situation away for the day. Virani continued.
‘I’ll have somebody check the Knightsbridge CCTV, see if we can get another positive ID of Raynor. See you tomorrow.’
Sam rose. ‘Thanks Jay, see you tomorrow.’ He left the room, waving to colleagues, saying his goodbyes. Once out of Thames House, he phoned Julia.
‘Hello Sweetheart, I’ll be on the next train home. I take it you’ve seen the news today.’ He started to walk up Millbank toward Lambeth Bridge.