Reading Online Novel

Lifting the Lid(47)



‘The thing I don’t get…’ he began.

Oh yeah? And what would that be, Mastermind?

‘One of the things I don’t get is how you knew where I was. I mean, I know the police have a whole load of technology and stuff, but…’

Sandra didn’t feel much like answering or getting into technical details about automatic numberplate recognition, but he’d probably just keep on at her till she did. ‘Let’s just say I have some useful contacts. When I called this particular one, there were already two APBs out on you, so I—’

‘Two?’

‘Yup.’

‘I don’t understand. Why would the police put out two APBs?’

‘I didn’t say the police were behind both of them, now did I?’

Sandra kept her eyes fixed on the road ahead, but she could sense that Trevor was staring at her, waiting for her to continue with an explanation. She decided to make him work for it.

‘Well?’ said Trevor eventually. ‘So who put out the other one?’

‘The thing is, this contact of mine is a pal, right? But even he couldn’t tell me the answer to that.’

‘Couldn’t or wouldn’t?’

Sandra shrugged. ‘What’s the difference? It all comes down to the same thing.’

‘And what’s that exactly?’

‘Think about it. Somebody with the authority – but who’s not the police – puts out an APB, but no-one’s supposed to know who that somebody is. In fact, it’s a big secret,’ she said with heavy emphasis on the last word.

She looked across at Trevor’s expressionless face and realised the penny still hadn’t dropped.

‘Secret Service would be my guess,’ she said and turned her attention back to the road.

‘Secret Service?’ Trevor laughed. ‘What, MI5 and all that?’

‘Probably.’

‘And why would the Secret Service be interested in me for God’s sake?’

‘You were the one who told me your van used to belong to James Bond,’ she said and hummed the first few notes of the 007 theme tune.

Ever since she’d spoken to her contact and begun to suspect that MI5 might be involved, Sandra had developed serious misgivings about the true significance of the package she’d been hired to collect and deliver. Of course, she’d assumed from the very first that there had to be something not entirely legal about the whole setup. No-one’s going to pay out two thousand pounds when a courier service could do exactly the same thing for a pittance – unless there was something dodgy going on. But operating on the edge of the law – or sometimes just outside it – was often part of the job as far as she was concerned, and the money had been too good to turn down. MI5, on the other hand, was an entirely different matter. Jesus, they only ever got interested if it was something to do with national security or terrorism. That kind of stuff.

Then there was the issue of the cigarette packets. She had grilled Trevor about those back at the campsite, but he’d been so adamant that they were all he’d found in the Jiffy bag, she’d been inclined to believe him. But even when she’d carried out a pretty thorough search of the van, she couldn’t be a hundred per cent certain he was telling the truth, and she wasn’t about to take any chances. She didn’t know much about her clients, but she’d formed the distinct impression that they weren’t the kind of people who would take failure lightly. If any shit was going to hit the fan when she dropped off the package, she wanted Trevor there as her human shield. Not surprisingly, he’d dug his heels in at first, insisting that he’d simply made a huge mistake and almost pleading with her to just take the Jiffy bag and leave him behind, but Sandra’s gun had soon convinced him that this was not an option.

She’d also been more than curious to know why the police had picked him up, but she’d decided that her priority was to get the package to Sheffield as instructed. She’d told the guy on the phone it would take her about two hours to get there, and she was already running late. Quizzing Trevor about the police could wait till they were on the road, and now seemed like as good a time as any.

He was gazing out of the side window, his arms folded tightly across his chest.

‘This business with the police,’ she said. ‘You want to tell me what that’s all about?’

‘Not particularly.’

Oh great. He’d gone sulky on her again. There was always the gun of course. That would loosen his tongue quick enough, but it’d be tricky to drive and aim at the same time, and stopping the car would waste valuable minutes. Not that she was in the mood right now, but maybe it was worth a crack with the good cop approach, and if push came to shove, she could even cross her fingers and promise him an all-you-can-eat at the next services they came to.