“I would say so. Otherwise we’d probably be dead already,” Stone quipped with heavy irony.
“Agreed! So if that pleasant position is to be maintained, we must step quietly and correctly.”
Stone said nothing. Carter continued, like a seasoned detective teaching a constable on his first day on the beat.
“We don’t know who these people are or even where they operate from, but we have two vague leads, so we must follow them very carefully.”
Stone frowned.
“What leads? I didn’t count any leads.”
Carter smiled.
“Trust me, there are two.”
Stone gave Carter a slightly impatient look.
“Go on then, I’ll play.”
Carter smiled again, a little wider.
“OK… First there’s money. In any operation like this there always has to be money. Someone has to pay for the service. There must be an office with staff of some sort, electricity bills, telephones, taxes, cars, and so on. Each transaction that this group undertook would cause a flurry of financial actions and reactions — track enough of them and you will start to see a pattern. That pattern will lead us to their lair!” Carter was known to enjoy certain superhero films.
“Or office,” Stone corrected.
“Or office, if you prefer,” Carter conceded with a shrug.
“OK — sounds like a plan. So how do we track these transactions?” Stone asked sitting forward in his chair.
“Don’t worry about that, there’s this woman I know. She’s great with computers and all that internet stuff. I’ve used her at the agency several times. She used to work for GCHQ as a forensic investigator, now she has her own company. She’s not cheap, but she really is the best. If anyone can track these bastards, she can. I put her on it yesterday — you can come down and meet her on the weekend, with any luck, she could have something by then. OK?”
Stone nodded enthusiastically.
“Great. Don’t worry about the money. Charles is funding this from beyond the grave, so we have a decent budget. If you trust this woman, then give her whatever she needs.”
Carter handed over a slip of paper.
“Her name is Megan Smith, big girl — keeps cats. Here is her address, memorize it and then destroy the paper, please. I know it’s rather melodramatic, but given what we’ve learned, I don’t think we can be too careful.”
Stone glanced at the address and handed the slip of paper back to Carter with a nod.
“I’ve got it.”
“You’ll remember it — that quickly?”
“I’ve still got my memory and good looks!”
“Thanks!” Carter laughed and gave a half-smile. Then he became more serious. “I know that Charles gave you a list of friends that he thought you could go to for help, but I think that we should keep them in reserve for now, particularly as we don’t really know who we can trust. I also think that we should stay away from texts and emails.”
He reached into his pocket and placed a cell phone and charger on the table.
“This is a burner phone — pretty much untraceable, I have one as well, my number is on speed dial one. If we need to communicate then use this phone, but always assume that someone is listening, so keep it short and vague.”
He produced a second slip of paper.
“This is a list of simple codes that we can use to arrange a meeting. Just say the number and the time and I will meet you there.”
Stone glanced at the list. It had twenty entries all numbered, most appeared to be for bars, parking lots, or hotels. Those that he recognized were near to junctions on freeways.
“I’m impressed. You said two leads. What was the second one?”
“Darren Jeffers. In his video, Charles said that he thought he was being followed and that he recognized someone called Darren Jeffers. If the Wrecking Crew were following Rathbone then it would make sense… ” Carter left the thought hanging.
“To use someone local!” Stone added triumphantly.
Carter gave an expansive smile. Stone picked up the cell phone and charger and pushed them decisively into his jacket pockets as he stood.
“Then we need to speak with this Darren Jeffers as soon as possible — today if we can.”
“My thinking exactly,” Carter responded as he got to his feet and patted his pockets. “I have his address here. He lives in Wethersfield, that’s about sixty miles from here. We’ll need both cars in case we have to follow him, so I suggest that we meet up at the entrance to the old US Air Force base and work out our strategy from there.”
“OK, I know where that is, I’ll meet you there. I need to use the washroom and I’ll have to stop for gas, just in case we have to follow this guy.”
“Good thinking. Anyway, there’s no rush. The old cop in me wants to look around the village a little, before we meet up.” Carter gave Stone a cheeky wink and headed out to his car.
After he had finished in the washroom, Stone paid for the drinks and, guessing it could be a long night, bought sandwiches and a bottle of water. He stuffed them into his jacket pockets and headed out to his car. As he walked out into the afternoon sunshine, he immediately heard the sharp sound of a female scream. Twenty feet away, at the entrance to the parking lot, a woman was struggling violently with a man. Stone stopped dead, slipped off his jacket, and dropped it to the ground, in preparation for what may follow. Not wanting to blunder blindly into the middle of a legitimate arrest by some undercover police officer, he allowed himself five seconds to assess the situation.
The woman wore white running shoes, black spandex running shorts and a red top. She was slim, quite short, and she wore her blonde hair in a ponytail. Around her narrow waist there was a belt securing a small black bag to the small of her back, presumably for carrying valuables. The belt appeared to be of an excellent quality, as it refused to break, despite being violently pulled by the man who Stone now recognized as being the passenger of the tatty car he had noticed earlier. He was still wearing his white hoodie, and unaware of Stone’s presence, was shouting at the woman.
“Give it up you bitch, fuckin’ give it!”
Stone thought that the woman was putting up a magnificent fight, given that her attacker was probably a foot taller and over eighty pounds heavier. She was screaming loudly, with her head down, trying to butt the man in the face. At the same time, she was wildly slapping and kicking at any body part that came close enough. Despite her valiant efforts, it was clear that she would soon lose such an uneven contest.
Looking to his right, Stone could see that the red Toyota sports car was still in the parking lot, he guessed that it probably belonged to the woman. Parked next to it was the tatty Rover 200, the passenger door was wide open, the engine was running, and the driver was smiling as he watched the screaming woman struggle. Stone suspected that the two men had seen the woman parking her expensive sports car a little earlier and decided to wait, in the hope of stealing her car. Judging from her clothes, she had probably gone for a mid-morning run, using the bar as a convenient parking spot. Stone decided that this was not a lawful arrest. He had walked into a violent robbery in progress. It took him just five seconds to make these observations. With a sigh he realized that for the third time in as many days he was about to break his rule and get involved.
Unaware that he was being watched, the robber was still shouting obscenities at the woman and pulling at her belt. Stone covered the distance to the attacker in just five strides. Using his momentum like an Olympic high jumper, he bounded into the air, and drove the sole of his right foot down onto the man’s wrist. There was a substantial scream of surprise and pain, as the robber’s grip on the belt was broken. Quickly reversing direction, Stone drove his elbow into the center of the man’s face, breaking his nose with a satisfying crunch.