140
Owain and Dalton are sat in the cab monitoring developments via the pendant microphone around Mitzi’s neck.
‘We’ve got boats on the Thames,’ says Dalton. ‘Both east and west of London Bridge pier.’ He taps on the glass screen dividing them and the driver. ‘Colin, get off the High Street and head down to the Thames; they’re moving her. I can hear street noise — they must be coming outside.’
Owain stares through the front windshield as the cab pulls into the traffic. ‘It’s about a third of a mile from the pub to the pier — they could walk that in less than five minutes. If you see a silver Mercedes on last year’s plates, it could be a follow car.’
‘Got it.’
‘My money is on them going east.’ Dalton follows a signal from Mitzi’s tracker on a laptop map of London. ‘Over here,’ he points to the right of the screen, ‘near the Millennium Dome.’
Owain isn’t convinced. ‘Maybe.’
The consul presses his case. ‘There’s a lot of open land and unused buildings down there. Remember, Mardrid’s company bought into the post-Olympic regeneration boom.’
‘I know, but he also owns properties around Chelsea Harbour, Battersea Park and Kew Gardens.’ As he talks, Owain dials the operations room at Caergwyn Castle. ‘Lance — Fallon is on the move. Do you have a visual on her?’
Beaucoup is sat in front of a bank of monitors showing feeds from cameras in cars, people on foot and a helicopter hovering high over the river. ‘Eye in the sky has got her. She’s with one man and a woman almost at London Bridge pier. They’re side by side and she has something over her hands, probably to cover some cuffs. I can see a small boat moored there.’
‘What kind of boat?’ asks Dalton.
He squints at the screen. ‘Six or eight berth, built more for speed than cruising.’ He recognizes it now. ‘It’s the same type the marine police use, a twin-engine Targa capable of thirty to forty knots.’
‘What have we got on the water?’ asks Owain.
‘We have a big water slug of a canal boat, fully spec’d with operational equipment and rescue team. And a Hustler Rockit with twin Mercuries that will clear a hundred knots in the blink of an eye.’
‘Only use the Hustler as a last resort. Once that thing cuts a wave, we’ll have river police all over us. Let’s take this one nice and slow. How are we doing on the American side?’
‘The FBI are all over Fallon’s sister’s ranch in San Mateo. They sent agents out there disguised as maintenance men and I’m told they’ve done a full forensic search but have no fingerprint or DNA matches with known criminals.’
‘Hardly a surprise,’ says Owain. ‘This is the work of top-end pros, the kind with no previous—’
‘Marchetti!’ shouts Beaucoup. ‘I just saw Angelo Marchetti on the pier. He’s with a party that got off the boat.’
141
Mount Diablo fills the rear-view mirror as Eleonora Fracci parks her Chrysler Crossfire in the lot of a small mall. She’s working her way through a list of people who paid cash on short, last-minute holiday lets and car rentals.
In front of her is a spread of fast-food joints, nail parlours, a grocery store, upmarket Chinese restaurant and a bar.
It’s the bar she’s interested in. That and the two guys twenty yards ahead of her who just disappeared inside.
An hour ago, Eleonora had driven past one of the target properties and seen a hulk of a man arguing with a woman in her thirties. He got to the point where he was done shouting and decided a punch would win the argument for him.
Eleonora had wanted to stamp on the brakes, get out and teach him a painful lesson. Only she would have blown her cover. While she was waiting and cursing, two more men came out of the rundown old shack and pulled the big guy and the battered woman inside.
The Italian was left looking at what was on the driveway and is now on the lot. A People Carrier with blacked-out windows. Perfect for four adults and a couple of teenage girls.
Eleonora waits until Mitch Conway, her assigned backup pulls up in his Chevy. She tosses her jacket in the back of the Crossfire and heads inside.
The bar is dark and moody. There’s a long slab of hardwood with saloon-style mirrors and shelves behind it. Neon signs on the wall advertise Bud. A jukebox plays country.
‘Mineral water,’ she says to a middle-aged bartend.
‘Yes, ma’am.’ His eyes register his interest in her shapely figure. ‘You want anything to eat? We got the best chicken in the valley.’
Her smile says she’s going to pass on that.
Eleonora takes her BlackBerry out and busies herself with mail. At least that’s what she hopes it looks like to the two guys on stools a few feet away. Without looking up, she knows their eyes are all over her.
The door opens, light spills in and she hears Mitch order a beer and ask where the washroom is.
The bartend puts down her drink. ‘You don’t want the chicken, I’m sure we could do something special for you.’
The comment is enough to prompt the woman-punching hulk into joining in. ‘Pretty sure I could do something very special for you, honeycakes.’
His friend laughs.
Eleonora puts her phone down. ‘No food thanks, I’m just waiting for a girlfriend.’
Hulk hitches his stool towards her. ‘I’m Jake and this here is Randy.’
His buddy chimes in. ‘You know what they say, Randy by name…’
‘You guys local?’ she asks.
‘Hell no,’ says Jake. ‘We’re from Fresno. Just come over for some fun.’
She sips her water and leaves her lips glisteningly wet. ‘What kind of fun?’
Jake’s eyes turn greedy. ‘’Bout any kind we can get.’
Eleonora leans back and blatantly checks him out. ‘And what do you big, muscled men do for a living?’
‘Meat packers.’ He nods to his colleague. ‘Randy here is about to open his own business.’
‘Love to show you my meat sometime.’ He breaks out laughing again.
She’s heard and seen enough. Professional criminals don’t pick up women in the middle of a job. Nor do they not wear watches. Jake has the sleeves of his checked shirt rolled up and his arms are tanned, with no sign of a timepiece ever being around any wrist. But both him and his jerkoff buddy have marks on their fingers where their wedding bands were. Most likely, they’re away on a boys’ holiday. Hunting, shooting, fishing and whatever else they can get. The woman she saw was probably a hooker, stupid enough to grab their cash and get passed around.
Eleonora takes a final sip of her mineral water and puts a five-dollar bill down to settle the tab. ‘Sorry, guys. I have to go.’
‘Hey, not so quick, babe.’ Jake grabs her arm as she gets up.
‘Get your hand off me.’
He doesn’t take the hint. ‘C’mon, sit down baby.’
She pulls her arm but he holds tight.
Eleonora smashes an elbow into his face.
He grabs his broken cheekbone and lets go of her.
She snags the barstool and pulls it from under him.
Hulk hits the floor spine first.
She slips out her gun and trains it on him. ‘Follow me outside and I’ll kill you. And if I ever see or hear of you hurting another woman, then I’ll find you and break more than just your face.’
142
Armed men hustle Mitzi off the quay and along the back of the bobbing boat. They squeeze her into a covered cabin and force her to sit on a narrow padded bench.