Read Dead Men Don't Bite (Jake Dillon Adventure Thriller Series) Online
Authors: Andrew Towning
Slater slowly pulled on his soft black leather gloves,
set the alarm and bolted the double doors at the front of
the lock up. He turned, and looked up and down the dimly
lit street, before walking across to where Black was already
sitting behind the wheel of the stolen Ferrari, the engine
running and false plates attached. At that time of night, the
journey to the Belgrave Mews address that they had been
given would only take them fifteen minutes.
After parking the bright red Italian sports car in
a vacant space, three roads away. They walked back to
number fifty-one Belgrave Mews, finding that there were no
lights on, and the curtains had been pulled tightly together.
The owner was hopefully at home, and by now fast asleep.
Black remained hidden outside while Slater entered
through the back door. He stood just inside the room for
a moment to let his eyes adjust to the darkness. The house
was deathly quite and the only sound came from a wall
clock in the hall. Slater moved through the ground floor,
and then went up the stairs. His footsteps fell silently on
to the thick carpet of the landing. He found the bedroom
at the far end on the right. The door was slightly ajar, and
creaked somewhat noisily on it’s hinges, as he pushed it
open. He stood motionless in the darkness, did not even
dare to breath, for fear of waking the old woman. His head
was pounding, and he could hear his own heart beat under
his clothing, after a minute of waiting, he carefully moved
through the partially open doorway.
Once inside, he crouched down low and moved
stealthily, like a cat, to the end of the bed where he remained
motionless for a few seconds while he deliberated his next
move. He knew that he had to administer the lethal injection
into a part of the body where it would not be easily spotted
by the police or an experienced pathologist.
He decided on the area of flesh just above, and behind
the ankle. Lifting back the corner of the duvet, the old
woman who had so foolishly informed on them remained
still in her slumber. Even when the fine needle pricked the
delicate parchment like skin, she didn’t stir.
Ten seconds later her heart had stopped beating.
Slater stood up, and replaced the protective cap over
the needle, before putting it back into his jacket pocket.
Walking to the other end of the bed he checked the frail
body for a pulse, when there wasn’t one, he allowed himself
a congratulatory smile for a job well done, and then left,
closing the bedroom door softly behind him.
“That elderly lady at number fifty-one,” LJ said,
“she told the police that the two men in the white van
were in there mid to late twenties, average height, and both
had short blond spiky hair. Have our people run a check
through the various agency databases of all criminals in the
Greater London Area who work in pairs, and who fit that
very vague description, please Roberts.”
“I’ll get on to it right away, Mr Levenson-Jones.
What time would you like me to collect Miss Cunningham,
sir?”
“Nine-thirty on the dot, please. That will give Vince
Sharp enough time to give this place a good going over.” LJ
replaced the telephone on to its cradle, and looked up to
find the seventeen stone hulk of Vince Sharp stood in the
doorway to his study, scrutinising a tiny pencil like object
in his hand.
“Anything interesting?” He asked.
“This?” he held up the tiny metallic tube with the
wire hanging out of the end. “This is the latest colour
surveillance camera and integrated digital microphone. I’ve
found three of these in all, one in here earlier, another in the
living room, and this one in the kitchen.” He walked over
and placed the bug onto LJ’s desktop.
“You’ve had a visit all right and whoever it was knew
exactly what they were doing. I’ve only found them because
I’ve got a scanner that will search a wider frequency band
than those used by the police, and our own security service.
But, these little beauties have been set at the most extreme
end of the scale.”
“Rather sophisticated I would have thought for
anyone outside of the intelligence community.” LJ said,
leaning back on his swivel chair, and rolling the tiny device
in his fingers.
“That may be true. But anyone could easily buy this
type of surveillance gadgetry, if they knew where to go. But
believe me, this type of kit does not come cheap. Whoever it
was, would have needed to purchase not only the cameras,
but also the portable laptop computer that goes with them,
before they were able to receive the images and sound. That
would have set them back around twenty grand at least.”
“And what range would the computer have?”
“The range is infinite, the only restriction is the
strength of reception to its onboard modem. This is
governed by terrain of course, and which is why it’s so
bloody expensive. But there’s another reason why someone
would be using this type of kit. You see it can never be
pinpointed or tracked to one specific location, even if the
receiving computer is stationary for long periods of time.”
“How?”
“Well it’s all in the mobile phone signal that the
computer’s very powerful processor chip uses. It can
automatically and randomly change the network from one
to another in a split second, and without breaking the call.
This on its own is extremely impressive, but there is more.
While on line the call is continuously re-routed all over the
globe, to evade being traced. That way, if you’ve settled
down to do a spot of eavesdropping, you won’t get any
unwelcome knocks at your door.”
“Yes well, that’s all very interesting, Vince. But I’m
far more interested as to why someone went to the trouble
of bugging my apartment. I want you to put all of those
cameras back, exactly where you found them. Whoever
they are we don’t want them knowing that we’ve rumbled
them, not for the time being anyway. And, when you get
back to the office, run a check through our own database
of surveillance equipment dealers who sell this particular
product, both here in the UK, and abroad will you. Oh, and
Vince, run the check yourself, I want to keep this very much
between ourselves.”
“Of course boss, I’ll do that first thing when I get
back there. But what intrigues me, is why someone would
want to bug this place?”
“I’m not sure, but it could just be connected with this
U-boat mystery Nathan Cunningham has landed us with.
Come to think of it, rather fortunate I put that aluminium
briefcase into the firm’s vault yesterday afternoon.”
“But how would they have known about the
existence of the briefcase and it’s contents?”
“Um, that’s what I’m wondering.” LJ frowned. “I
tell you what Vince. Before going back to the office, go
across to Thames House and have a quiet word with one of
your old friends in the technical department there. I’m sure
they’ll be able to tell you if anyone has recently booked out
this type of equipment, won’t they?”
“You really think…?”
“I don’t think, Vince, I’m merely considering all the
options.” LJ looked at his watch.
“Now re-instate those bugs and be on your way.
Roberts will be here in a moment to take Miss Cunningham
to the hospital.”
When Vince Sharp had left, LJ went into the living
room where Annabelle was sat by the window drinking
coffee. “I’m ever so sorry about all of this, Annabelle.”
“It’s not your fault. After all, you didn’t ask my
father to come to London, and burden you with all this Nazi
submarine stuff, only to then go and get himself knocked
over, did you?”
He sat down opposite her and said gently. “As a
matter of fact, my dear, yes I did ask him to come over
here. As you know your father, and I have been friends a
very long time. We’ve been through a lot together, and to
be honest this business with him getting himself put into
hospital is extremely disturbing to say the very least.”
“So, do you think that he was deliberately run over
because of the U-boat?”
“I really don’t know, my dear. But please trust me
when I say to you, that if Nathan is laying there in hospital,
fighting for his life because he inadvertently discovered that
U-boat. Then I will do everything in my power to find out
the truth and to bring whoever is involved to justice. Of
that you can be assured.”
Hugo Malakoff was sat in his private office at the
château, watching aerial footage of the rugged Jersey
coastline that was being sent back in real-time and displayed
on a large wall mounted plasma screen, when the man who
called himself Slater phoned through from London.
“I’m very sorry Mr Malakoff, but we found nothing
at the Belgrave Mews address.”
“I’m not surprised, but it was worth checking,”
Malakoff said. “There were no problems I trust?”
“No, none at all, sir” Slater lied easily. “But I did
bug the place, not that anyone would notice. It was just in
case the girl says anything to Levenson-Jones while she’s
staying there.”
“You imbecile, you were told not to bug that
apartment.” Malakoff suppressed his anger with icy
coldness. “I told you, that this man is a former MI5
controller. Employed at the highest level, and is still involved
with the intelligence community, he’s someone, Slater, who
checks everything, twice, even in his sleep.”
“I’m sorry, Mr Malakoff, I thought that I was doing
the right thing, I used the new equipment that you sent to
us.”
“Never mind, the damage is already done. But I hope
for your sake Slater, that Levenson-Jones does not discover
those cameras. But all the same, it would be wise for you
and Black to stay out of sight for a few days. That bizarre
blond hair you both have, it makes you stand out like a
couple of belisha beacons, and is far too distinctive. Change
it straight away. Also, if you have any other little jobs that
you are currently working on, drop them immediately. Do I
make myself clear, Slater?”
“Yes Mr Malakoff, very clear.”
“Good, because I’m going to require both of you,
and your special talents very soon. So keep your phone
switched on, and wait for my call.” Malakoff put down
the phone and continued to watch the dark Jersey coastline
flash by the lenses of the high-definition video camera that
was attached to one of his private helicopters.
It was just after six-thirty that evening. Annabelle
Cunningham was sat opposite LJ on the sofa in his office,
the aluminium Kriegsmarine briefcase was on the coffee
table in front of them.
They’ve told me to expect no change in him, until he regains
consciousness. And only Pop himself knows when that will
be. But the consultant did say he was extremely pleased that
his condition had stabilised.”
“Good, I’m sure he’ll pull through. He’s a tough
one your father.” LJ got up and walked over to the drinks
cabinet. Without asking Annabelle, he poured them both a
good measure of single malt whisky into crystal tumblers
before returning to his seat, and snapping open the catches
of the briefcase.
She leant forward, a puzzled look on her face. “No,
never.”
Gently picking up the leather bound diary of
Korvettenkapitan Otto Sternberg, he asked. “Or this?” He
opened it, and handed it across to her.
“No, I’ve never seen this book before, why?”
LJ said, “Because, this is the reason why Nathan
came to see me. He discovered this briefcase and its contents
inside the wreck of a German submarine somewhere off the
coast of Jersey, Annabelle. Did he tell you anything about
that before leaving to come to London?”
Annabelle took a moment to collect her thoughts
before answering. “Yes, he did tell me that he’d been diving
that morning and that he’d discovered a Nazi submarine.
He also said that it was still tied up inside a large cave, and
that it was a mystery how or why it was there.”
“Is that all he told you about it, Annabelle. It really
is vital that you tell me everything that you can remember.
However trivial you may think it is.”
“Well, he did mention something about Heinrich
Himmler. He was very excited, about how it appeared
that he was involved in some way. But that really is all he
told me about the matter. He made me promise not to tell
anyone on the island. I think it was the press that he was
most concerned about, turning Jersey into a media circus as
well as attracting relic hunters, and the like. But I know for
certain that once he’d spoken to you, he felt much happier
about the situation. He told me that if anyone knew what
to do, you would.”
“He did, did he. Well, my dear I do know what to
do, but first I need to find out where that U-boat is. I don’t
suppose for one minute that Nathan mentioned the place
where he’d dived that morning, did he?” LJ tried to make
the question sound as casual as he could.
“I’m afraid that he wouldn’t tell me where he’d
been that morning. But if I know Pops, it would have been
somewhere off the northern coast and more than likely in a
place where it was very dangerous.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Because he’s still an adrenaline junky. Surely you
remember what he was like when he was in the Navy?
Always trying something new, and that would usually
involve extreme height or speed. Well since taking up diving
he’s forever searching for deeper and more interesting cave
formations. Jersey’s northern coastline is ideal for this, but
it is also the most fearsome of places, because of the rocks
just below the surface of the water, and the severe tidal
movements.”
There was a moment of silence while LJ pondered on
what had just been revealed. “You are positive that Nathan
never referred to a particular place or area?”
“Absolutely positive. Pop said that it was better
if I didn’t know where the submarine was. Just in case I
accidentally let it slip in front of someone.”
“Unfortunate that, Annabelle. It’s a real shame that
Nathan didn’t confide in you of all people. Only it really
would have been extremely useful to know the location. But
there you are, never mind.” LJ paused briefly before saying,
“However, that doesn’t stop you from making an educated
guess, though, does it?”
“What? I’ve really no idea, except that it would
more than likely be somewhere between Ronez and Greve
De Lecq. That is a stretch of the coast that Pops had been
visiting for some months. He’s been using some sort of
equipment on board the Nautical Lady that maps out the
seabed or something like that. But I have to tell you that it’s
also one of the most inhospitable coastal areas that we have
in Jersey. But I’m only guessing.”
“Why this stretch of coastline? What makes it so
special?”
“Jersey has many interesting dive sites that the
tourists are taken to see and this is because they are in fairly
safe waters, and are easy to get out to. Obviously there are
plenty of wrecks that have been discovered over the years.
But this U-boat is a bit weird. How is it possible, that no
one has ever found this cave before?”
“You mean that this place could be somewhere that
nobody ever dives in, the professionals included, I suppose?”
“I’d say that was just about it. But I’m not a diver, so
what would I know?”
“You may not be a diver, Annabelle, but you do
know your coastline.”
“The man you should talk to is Rob Chapman, he’s
lived in Jersey all of his life. If anybody would know, he
would.”
LJ, wrote the name into his notepad. “And what
does Mr Chapman do?”
“Rob Chapman, is an archaeologist, but also takes
dive charters in his spare time to earn extra income. Poor
soul, lost his wife and daughter in a car crash a little while
back, the diving keeps him busy you see.”
“Archaeologist, how interesting.” LJ said absent
mindedly to a corner of the room.
“Yes, it was Rob who taught Pops to dive, and also
got him hooked on the archaeology thing. I believe that he’s
currently working on the war tunnels project at the German
Underground Hospital in St Lawrence. He persuaded Pops
to sign up and join the team who are attempting to map out
a number of deep tunnels that apparently go on for miles
under the island and which have remained sealed up since
the end of the last war.”
“And what role does this Chapman fellow play in
the project?”
“Assistant project co-ordinator. Why?”
“Oh, no reason, just curious.” LJ said, standing up.
“Well, I’d say that we’ve covered just about as much
as we can, my dear. You’ve been most helpful, and now I’ve
got a number of telephone calls to make, before my day
is over. If you like, I’ll get Roberts to take you back to the
hospital.”
“If it’s all the same with you, I’d rather like to take a
walk by the river.”
“Of course, blow the cobwebs out, what. But I’ll
still have someone go with you.” LJ saw the alarm on
Annabelle’s face at this suggestion. “Oh, don’t worry, I’ll tell
them to stay out of sight. It’s only for your own protection.
Your father would never forgive me if anything happened
to you.”
“LJ, Thank you, you are sweet.” Annabelle stood
up and kissed the special projects director on the cheek,
making him flush with embarrassment. “But, I really will be
fine,” she said over her shoulder as she left.
Half and hour later, he was having a strong black
coffee, and smoking a cigar when Vince Sharp lumbered
into his office. “I was bloody well right you know? Whoever
planted those three bugs in your apartment was a clever
bastard. Also the phone in your study is unsafe.” He said
triumphantly.
“Why is it unsafe?” LJ asked, looking at the slim
cigar that he was rolling between his forefinger and thumb.
“Because the line there is being intercepted and
before you ask. It’s definitely not by anyone we know.”
“So,” LJ said stabbing the butt of his cigar into the
glass ashtray on his desk. “A dark pit opens.”
“I figure it’s like this boss. Nathan Cunningham
knew about the briefcase and its contents because he was
the one who discovered it. You knew because he told you,
and his daughter knew only the bare facts because that’s
all he told her. The only other people to know anything
about the U-boat or the contents of that briefcase, apart
from myself that is, are Sir Lucius Stagg and Lord Asquith.
Oh, and of course the Partners of Ferran & Cardini.” He
paused.
“So what exactly are you saying Vince?”
“That someone is leaking information, boss.”
LJ sighed, got up, and started to pace around the
office. “Um, well that may be the case, Vince. But, the
question is who and to what end?”
“Well whoever it is, needs to be found and bloody
quick. I mean, with all this cloak and dagger stuff going on.
I’d say, that whoever they are, they’re well organised, and
very well funded. But they definitely don’t know where that
U-boat is, and that’s why your apartment has been bugged.”
“You could be right, Vince, this whole mystery is
taking on a totally new dimension.”
“Do you think we should inform MI5, boss?”
“No, I think it would be better not to involve them at
this stage. After all what is there to tell, we don’t even know
where this dammed German submarine is.” LJ’s telephone
came alive on his desk. He answered it after the second
ring, attentively listened to the voice at the other end of the
line, and a moment later gently replaced the handset back
on its cradle. “That was the police. They found the body of
old Mrs Marsden, early this morning.”
“Mrs Marsden?” Vince asked quizzically.
“The woman across the road from my apartment.
She was the one who informed the police of my visitors
yesterday. Apparently she’s been dead since late last evening.
They’ve taken her off to the morgue for an autopsy. They
said they’d call if anything irregular shows up, but it looks
like she had a heart attack. Poor old soul.”
“But you don’t think so, do you boss?”
“I’m not sure. She was quite old, and these things do
happen, I suppose. But one thing, I’m very sure of though.
Is that we’ll have to send someone down to Jersey to find
out where that U-boat is.”
“Obviously, that someone would have to be able to
handle himself if things got tough and be an extraordinarily
experienced diver of course.” Vince said.
“I agree on both counts. Especially, with an unknown
foe running around, so it’s got to be someone who thinks
like a criminal and has no regard for protocol whatsoever.”
LJ continued to pace around the office.
“Of course, that someone will be a wild card.
Maverick in style, and have a total disregard for personal
safety as well as operational procedure.”
“You know, life can be so extremely perverse on
occasions, Vince. I must have been very naïve to think that I
wouldn’t have to endure that temperamental and capricious
character ever again, let alone his flagrant contempt
for authority. But I have to concede to the fact that he’s
undeniably perfect for this assignment.”
“Is he still on indefinite leave?”
“Yes, the Partners thought it best after that episode
in Dorset. But he appears to have redeemed himself in the
eyes of the FBI. Which I suppose is something to his credit.”
“Do we know where he is?”
“Oh I know exactly where he is. Ever been to
California, Vince?”
“Never, boss.”
“Well, in that case this will be a new experience for
you then. I’ll get young Roberts to book us business class
seats on the next available flight to Los Angeles. You get off
home, and pack a few things. Roberts will phone you later
with the flight time. As for me, I’m off to have dinner with
Miss Cunningham. Oh and Vince, before you leave, contact
that FBI fellow, Dan Parker in Florida, and make sure that
our friend is still staying at the Beverly Hills Hilton. If he
is there, and I’ve no reason to suppose that he’s not, then
please book two rooms in my name.”
“It’ll be a pleasure, boss.”