Authors: Robert Muchamore
After zipping up, James stepped over to the door of the graffiti-etched cell and rang the buzzer. It took a minute for the custody officer to open the flap.
‘Can you flush my toilet?’ James asked.
The beanpole officer, with stained teeth and scruffy red hair, was in a jovial mood. ‘Are you up for some breakfast, sonny?’
James felt queasy and wasn’t sure if eating would help or hinder the situation. ‘What have you got?’
‘It’s a full English, with bacon or sausage, eggs any style and granary toast with a selection of fresh fruit preserves and whipped butter.’
James was well off-form at this time of the morning. It took him longer than it should have to realise he was having his leg pulled.
‘I am a bit hungry, I suppose.’
‘Well it comes wrapped in cellophane and I’m told it’s highly nutritious. Do you want it or not?’
James shrugged. ‘I guess.’
The cop came back and slotted a grey plastic tray through the flap, followed by a plastic mug filled with milky tea.
‘Do you know what’s going on?’ James asked. ‘I’ve been stuck down here all night.’
‘You’re under-age, so we can’t question you, release you, or do anything else until your parent or guardian turns up,’ the custody officer explained.
James had named Zara as his social worker and given the police a local phone number that would automatically re-route to the twenty-four-hour situation room on campus. Having ascertained that James wasn’t in any danger, it looked like nobody on campus was in any great rush to get out of bed in the early hours of Sunday morning and drive to his rescue.
James ate the cereal and nibbled at a rubbery waffle-type thingy with cubes of pink and orange fruit in the middle. He couldn’t help wondering what Lauren would say when she found out he’d got into another fight. He’d planned to stay out of trouble, but that’s not always easy when you’re on a mission.
There was the tantalising sound of a key in the cell door as he drained his mug.
‘Looks like you’re
headin
’ home,’ the custody sergeant said, as the door swung open.
He flung a box containing James’ belongings on to the bed.
‘Aren’t they gonna question me or nothing?’ James asked, as he slid his feet in his trainers and began shoving his keys, mobile and stuff back into his pockets.
‘I believe they questioned quite a few of your pals,’ the sergeant explained. ‘But that lot like settling their own scores. The two lads in the hospital refused to give the police any statement, which leaves you in the clear.’
‘Thank god for that,’ James said.
‘Don’t get
too
full of yourself,’ the cop warned, as he led James out of the cell towards the reception area. ‘I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes if they catch up with you.’
John Jones had landed the task of driving down from CHERUB campus at five on a Sunday morning. John was a dome-headed ex-police, ex-MI5 agent, who’d joined CHERUB as a mission controller less than a year earlier. He’d worked with James on his two biggest missions.
John showed the custody sergeant a fake ID that said,
London Borough of Tower Hamlets, Social Services
.
‘How come
you’re
here?’ James asked, as they walked out of the police station into a drizzly Sunday morning.
‘Zara’s got two kids,’ John explained. ‘She sees little enough of them, without her having to make fake IDs and drive to London in the middle of the night. Besides, she’s a senior mission controller and this job is strictly small-time.’
‘Are you taking over as mission controller now?’ James asked, as they started walking towards the car.
John nodded, ‘For my sins.’
‘Sorry I got you out of bed in the middle of the night.’
‘I expect I’ll live,’ John replied. ‘I’ve been working undercover since before you were born, James. It’s not the first night’s sleep I’ve missed and I’d have a few quid on it not being the last.’
John had driven down in one of the CHERUB pool cars, a black Vauxhall Omega. James spotted Millie
Kentner
hunched over in the back as he got in the front passenger seat.
‘Morning,’ James said.
Millie looked at John. ‘Can we shift out of here pronto, before someone from inside the station recognises me?’
The police station was only a few minutes’ drive from Palm Hill estate. John pulled up in a side street, and the three of them had a conversation while the rain pelted the roof of the car.
‘What happened, James?’ Millie asked tersely.
James looked back over his shoulder, surprised at her tone. ‘Two
nutters
tried to start on us. I did what I could to keep them happy, but they wanted trouble and they got it.’
Millie tutted. ‘I have enough problems with the lunatics around here, without you trying to set off World War Three between Palm Hill and the Grosvenor Estate.’
‘I didn’t start
anything
,’ James said irritably. ‘You were a cherub, you know how it works. You don’t get to make friends with villains by sitting indoors and being a good little boy.’
‘Point taken,’ Millie nodded. ‘But
please
try to remember that you’re here to help me get rid of
Tarasov
and make Palm Hill a
better
place to live.’
James huffed. ‘And who was that Asian guy who arrested me?’
‘Michael Patel,’ Millie said. ‘What about him?’
‘He’s a psycho, that’s what,’ James answered. ‘He smacked my head against the car as I was getting in. My head’s killing me.’
Millie looked incredulous. ‘That must have been accidental.’
‘Look at it,’ James said, peeling away the hair around his bruise.
John was concerned. ‘That’s quite a knock. Maybe you should get it checked out.’
‘I’ve survived worse,’ James said.
‘Well, if you’re sure,’ John said, before turning to look at Millie. ‘Does Patel have any history of assaulting suspects?’
‘He certainly does
not
,’ Millie gasped. ‘Mike is my deputy in the community unit. He’s our only Asian officer. There’s a huge Asian community around here and the inroads he’s made amongst them since he came here four years ago have been absolutely fantastic.’
James couldn’t believe what he was hearing. ‘I don’t care what he’s done for the Asian community,’ he shouted. ‘What about the git trying to bust my head open?’
‘James, I know Michael Patel. It was an accident.’
James shook his head furiously. ‘Millie, you might have been a cherub twenty years ago, but you’re all cop now: sticking up for your own kind. Why would I lie to you, you stupid cow?’
‘
Whoah
,’ Millie said, shocked. ‘You’d better watch that mouth, young man.’
‘James,’ John interrupted stiffly. ‘Don’t speak to her like that.’
‘Typical,’ James said. ‘Another cop, takes her side as well.’
‘I’m not taking sides,’ John shouted, with an uncharacteristic ferocity that made Millie and James shrivel into their seats. ‘This mission will go absolutely nowhere if we can’t work together.
‘James, I know it can be difficult, but try to bear in mind what Millie said and steer clear of trouble. Millie, when you work with CHERUB, you have to respect what the young agents tell you. Otherwise there’s no point using them.’
‘Mike is probably the best officer on my community policing unit,’ she answered tersely.
‘Then I’m sure you won’t mind having a little dig into his personnel file and seeing if any similar allegations have been made in the past.’
Millie raised up her hands. ‘Fine, if that’s what it takes to settle this. But I know my officers. I’m the godmother of Michael’s daughter, for crying out loud.’
John smiled. ‘Maybe he was having a bad night. Police work can be extremely stressful.’
‘So what now?’ James asked, feeling better now he knew John was at least partly on his side.
‘Do you know the way home from here?’ John asked.
‘More or less,’ James nodded.
‘OK, then I suggest you walk it. Everything carries on as planned; trying to work your way in with the
Tarasovs
. I’ll drive Millie home, then I’ll head back to campus.’
Millie looked at James as he climbed out of the car. She smiled like she was anxious to make up, but he wasn’t having it.
‘I’ll call you boys on your mobiles this evening,’ Millie said. ‘We can have a mini briefing to see how you and Dave are getting on.’
‘Superb,’ James said sourly, as he slammed the car door and set off into the drizzle.
*
‘Dave, you home?’ James shouted, as he stepped into the hallway. He could hear a radio in the kitchen. ‘That Millie’s a right …’
James was set to go off on a rant about Millie not believing him, but as he rounded the corner into the kitchen he was confronted by Sonya
Tarasov
. She had wet hair and wore Dave’s white towelling robe.
‘You must be James,’ Sonya grinned.
‘Um … yeah,’ James said awkwardly. ‘Where’s Dave?’
‘In the shower, he’ll be out in a minute. Would you like tea or coffee?’
James sat down at the table while Sonya made him a cup of tea. ‘So, you spent the night,’ James said, as Sonya planted a mug in front of him.
‘Uh-huh,’ Sonya said, smiling coyly. ‘I hear you got busted with my little brother, Max.’
James nodded. ‘A whole bunch of kids got taken in for questioning.’
Dave rounded the corner, buttoning up his jeans.
‘Morning jailbird,’ Dave grinned, as he grabbed Sonya and made a big show of kissing her on the neck.
James was embarrassed by the display of affection and Dave knew it.
‘What’s the matter, bro?’ Dave asked, as he broke away from Sonya and clicked on the kettle. ‘So we spent the night together? We’re both over sixteen, there’s nothing illegal about it.’
James stared into his mug and wrung his hands uncomfortably. Partly James was jealous because he was a virgin, but mostly it just felt really weird being in a room with two people who’d spent the night having sex. It reminded him of the feeling you get when you pull a hair off your tongue and realise it’s not one of your own.
‘I’m gonna clean up,’ James said, pushing his chair back as he stood up. ‘I stink like that police cell.’
The doorbell rang as James stepped out into the hallway. He recognised Max
Tarasov
through the frosted glass.
‘Hey,’ James said. ‘How’d you and Liza get on with the cops?’
‘They took all of us in one at a time and asked about what happened and that. We all said it was totally the other lot who started it.’
‘That lunatic Patel smacked my head against the car roof.’
Max nodded. ‘He’s a
nutter
that bloke. I’ve seen him on TV being interviewed and he’s Mr Smooth, but I’ve heard
so
many stories about him.’
‘Like what?’ James asked.
Max shrugged. ‘Oh, you know, giving kids slaps. Nothing massive, but he’s got a reputation for being a bit handy.’
‘
So’d
you get in trouble with your dad?’ James asked.
‘It wasn’t that bad,’ Max said. ‘He was pissed off having to leave the pub to come and collect us, but he’s had a few
runins
with the Grosvenor kids and he hates their guts.’
‘How come?’
‘There used to be this bunch of lads from over there who kept coming down the High Street and raising hell. They busted the pub windows a few times and my dad reckons some of them broke into the car lot and nicked his cash box. Anyways, I came round ’cos some of us lads usually have a kick-about on Sunday morning. It looks like the weather’s settling down. Are you up for it?’
‘Right now?’ James asked. ‘Only, I was gonna have a shower. It makes my skin crawl thinking about all the drunks and dossers who slept in that police cell before I did.’
‘No worries. You know where the pitches are. Just meet us down there when you’re ready.’
James nodded, ‘But I’m warning you, I’m not exactly god’s gift to football.’
‘I’ll make sure you’re on the other team then,’ Max grinned. ‘See you in a mo.’
James pushed closed the front door. As he passed by the kitchen, he noticed Sonya clambering out of the cupboard under the sink.
‘What the hell are you two up to?’ James laughed.
‘I thought you might ask Max inside,’ Sonya explained. ‘I had to hide.’
‘Dave told me everything was legal and above board,’ James grinned.
‘That’s just the law,’ Sonya explained. ‘My dad is an entirely different matter.’
‘Max wouldn’t grass you up though, would he?’
Sonya shrugged. ‘Probably not, but I wouldn’t put blackmail or extortion past the little swine.’