Lifting the Lid(77)

Statham followed him over to the police car, and they identified themselves to the two uniformed officers, one of whom went with them to the corner of the street and pointed out the target’s Peugeot and the scruffy block of flats which they had passed about fifty yards up the road.

‘Cabot Tower,’ said the officer. ‘That’s where they went when they got out the car.’

‘Any idea which flat?’ said Patterson.

‘Sorry, sir. Our orders were just to keep tabs on the car.’

‘Fair enough.’ Patterson caught Statham’s look of surprise, but he knew he had little or no grounds for giving the officer a bollocking. He’d simply done what he’d been told to do and that was that. No more, no less.

‘So what do we do now then?’ said Statham.

‘We wait.’

‘For?’

‘For them to come out.’ Patterson looked towards the block of flats. ‘I don’t see we have much choice given that they could be in any one of seventy-odd apartments. In the meantime, we need to find out how many exits there are and stick a tracker on the car. Just in case they give us the slip – again.’

He pondered the situation while Statham went back to the Skoda and opened the boot. On balance, grabbing them in the street might even be a better option than bursting into some flat where they’d no idea what to expect. How many of them were there? He doubted there’d be just the two from the Peugeot What sort of weapons had they got? He checked his watch. And where the hell were Jarvis and Coleman?

Statham came back from the car and, as if seeking Patterson’s approval, held out a piece of black plastic that was about the same size and shape as a box of matches. Patterson glanced at the tracking device and nodded.

‘It’s a pity the car’s right opposite the flats,’ he said. ‘We’ll just have to brazen it out and hope the apartment’s at the back of the building or that no-one’s looking out the window.’

They set off down the litter-strewn pavement, and when they reached the Peugeot, Statham knelt down and attached the magnetic tracking device to the underside of the car. The metallic “clunk” must have woken the dog, which he’d failed to notice on the back seat, because she immediately sprang to her feet and began barking wildly at the perceived intruders through the partially open window.

He staggered backwards on his haunches and threw out a hand to stop himself falling. ‘What the—’

‘Still got the mutt I see,’ said Patterson and scratched his head while he contemplated whether the dog’s presence had any particular significance.

‘You might have warned me,’ said Statham, getting to his feet and brushing the dust from his trousers.

Patterson ignored the remark and scanned the windows at the front of the apartment block. ‘Don’t think anybody heard.’ He looked back at the dog, who seemed to take this as her cue to crank up the volume by several decibels.

‘Not yet anyway,’ he added and stepped off the pavement as the dog threw back her head and emitted a wolf-like howl of ear shattering proportions. ‘Come on, Colin. Get a wriggle on.’

They had barely reached the middle of the road when a screech of tyres from the far end of the street stopped them in their tracks. They spun round to see a dark blue Mondeo hurtling around the corner and fishtailing this way and that as the driver fought to regain traction.

Patterson’s jaw dropped as he watched the car straighten and then accelerate towards them. When it was within a few yards of where they stood, they heard the high pitched squeal of rubber against tarmac for a second time, and the car slewed sideways and came to a shuddering halt, almost blocking the entire width of the road.

‘Well if it isn’t Starsky and Hutch,’ Patterson muttered through gritted teeth, glaring back at Jarvis and Coleman as they beamed at him through the windscreen.

Jarvis leaned his head out of the driver’s window. ‘All right, guv?’ he said and gave him the thumbs up.

Patterson walked slowly over to the car. ‘I’m surprised that’s pink and not brown,’ he said, pointing at Jarvis’s outstretched thumb.

‘Sir?’ Jarvis’s broad grin was instantly replaced with a look of blank incomprehension.

‘Given that you seem to spend most of your time with your thumb up your bum and your brain in neutral.’

Jarvis’s vacant expression remained unchanged.

‘Tell me, Jarvis. Exactly what does the word “covert” mean to you, as in the phrase “covert operation”?’

‘Er—’

Patterson slammed his fist down onto the roof of the car. ‘Just park the bloody thing before you cause an accident.’