Dave opened the spreadsheet with the bank information for Stuart Ogilvy. He printed out a street map of the Wandsworth area. He located the supermarket that was used on an almost daily basis, once a week he spent more, Dave guessed that must be the day he does his main shop. It took almost two hours to mark each place where he had spent money locally. People never walk far for their shopping, Dave hoped he lived within half a mile of the supermarket. As well as the map, he wrote out a list of the addresses of the shops. He left the house and made for the bank, He withdrew enough to give Trevor an advance and pay Marius, with more for expenses he might incur. The Glock was in the boot, it was hidden in the box used to deliver it. As he drew into the Harvester car park, he saw Trevor’s car, taking a file with him, he went inside, Trevor was sitting in the bar, “do you want some food?” “If you’re paying, then yes.” Over lunch, Dave asked if he had found the missing cat. “The stupid cow knows it is in the neighbours, she keeps paying me hoping I can steal it back. More money than fucking sense.” As they finished Dave said what he wanted done. “I need you to find this man,” the file had a picture of Stuart Ogilvy taken from the profile of Roger Peterson and another, head only shot from the photographs. “What’s he done?” “that’s not important, I need him found.” Trevor was looking at the map, Dave explained each dot was a shop that he used, “I reckon he lives locally to the supermarket. As soon as you find the address, call me, I will be there within twenty-four hours. I need you to start early tomorrow morning, there is a time limit on this job. Find a Travelodge or a bed and breakfast to stay in, don’t go overboard on expenses.” Outside, Dave casually passed him a rolled-up bundle of notes. “Count them later,” with a shake of hands, Dave was on his way to Birmingham, stopping at the services on the M6, he thought of moving the box with the Glock into the front of the car, there were too many CCTV cameras for his liking. He filled up with fuel and carried on, at Spaghetti Junction he took the A38 towards the city. He was following his satnav, on the way, he pulled into a side street. Getting out the car, he quickly retrieved the Glock from its hiding place. He put the gun in the glove box. With a three-point turn, he was back on his route. It was 15.45 when he pulled up to the gates of the factory. He did as Marius had said. “Straight down this road to the end, turn left, you will see his car.” As he drove, he took the Glock from the glove box and laid it on his lap. Dave had used Marius before, he was a thug, a drug dealer, ran prostitutes and at times a very nasty person. He supplied weapons to many of the gangs in Birmingham. Turning left, he saw a new, black Range Rover, the rear windows were blacked out, four people were standing to one side. Three were bigger than Dave and dressed all in black, the fourth was smartly dressed in a business suit. Dave pulled up a little distance from the Range Rover. The three in black turned towards his car, one took out a handgun and pointed it towards him. Opening the door, he took his own gun in his hand, he aimed it towards Marius. “Fuck about and your boss gets it first.” Marius laughed, “Dave, how are you? You can never be too sure.” Turning to the one with the gun, “It’s all right, you can put it away.” Dave walked towards him, still holding his gun, but no longer pointing it at Marius. One of the others had a small black box which he passed to his boss. “This is what you have come for, shall we go inside and try it.” He followed Marius in through what would have been a way in for trucks. Try it without first. Dave aimed at an old rusty filing cabinet about 15 metres away. When he pulled the trigger, the noise echoed round the building. “Try it now with the silencer,” Dave took it from Marius and fixed it on to the end of the Glock, He repeated the shot, this time it was much quieter. “Some people think there will be no noise, this is real life, not James Bond or Mission Impossible.” “It will be OK,” he reached inside his jacket for the money. The gun was again raised and pointed at him. Dave carefully took out the envelope containing the £500, he passed it over to Marius. “I will buy it back for £100 when you are done.” “I’ll keep it, you never know when I might need to use it again.” The envelope had been passed to one of the others who was counting it. “OK boss,” “I like you as a customer, you know what you want, you never argue over the price and you pay, I wish all my customers were as good as you.” With that he was gone, Dave took the silencer off and put both items into the box, then back into the boot. He was driving out of the gates a couple of minutes later. The roads were getting busier, navigating his way through the traffic was going to be a nightmare.
Sally had started on their meal when he walked into the kitchen, she offered him a drink, “I’ll have a lager out the fridge. It all went well today, I will have someone searching for Stuart Ogilvy in the morning.” “What did you go to Birmingham for?” “I had to pick up another piece of kit I needed. I might have to go to London at very short notice, any time from tomorrow, I will put some bits in the backpack ready. When I have to go, if you aren’t in, I will leave you a note, I will phone whenever I have the opportunity. If you haven’t heard from me for a couple of days, don’t worry. Any longer, will you call this phone, he wrote down the mobile number for the Brigadier, he will know what to do.” “You will be careful won’t you, now I have you, I don’t want to lose you.” “I will be fine, it’s all routine from now on.”
Later he took the backpack from the wardrobe in the room he had been staying in. He left the other ID’s behind, Sally came to help him, she picked up the backpack to take it into her bedroom, “where’s the gun?” “It’s already in the car,” “you said this would be routine,” there was a frantic look on her face, “Don’t worry, it is part of the job to take it with me, there’s nothing to worry about.” She wasn’t convinced, but said no more about it. He packed enough for two nights, “Where will you stay?” “Wherever I can, hopefully it won’t be more than a night.”
Trevor was in London by 06.00, he had Dave’s map and walked round familiarising himself with the location of the shops. He was carrying a backpack, as well as some food, it had a collection of jumpers, jackets, caps and glasses. It would allow him to change his appearance when necessary. He spent the morning, going between the newsagents and the supermarket. Trevor thought that he must live closer to the newsagents than anywhere else. There are plenty of them, why walk past one to go to a different shop further away. The problem he had was that it was too quiet. Anyone hanging about for too long would be spotted. Nearly everyone was going somewhere. He settled in the supermarket café, if he chose the correct seat, all the customers coming and going could be seen. It was busy enough so no one would notice how long he sat there for. The paper he had bought from the newsagent was on the table, open at the crossword page, under the next page was the picture of Roger Peterson. Every so often, he would write in an answer. Later, he moved out into the street and sat at the bus stop across the road, this wasn’t ideal, but he was able to scan the approach to the shop from both directions. During the morning, there had been several false alarms where Trevor had either almost run from the café or walked across the road to check on a possibility. This was the part of the job he hated, until he had found and identified the target, there was no time to relax, he knew the minute he looked away, the day could be lost and he would have to start all over again. In the afternoon, the shop started to get much busier, it was Friday afternoon, people were doing their weekly shop. He moved to stand near the door casually watching each person as they entered. It was 17.15 when Trevor finally thought he spotted Roger Peterson, letting him pass, he pulled the newspaper from his backpack and quickly checked the image. The target had a trolley and was in the fruit and veg section, Trevor waited until he had moved from there and picking up a basket he began to follow him. He put a few items in, trying to be like any other shopper, he walked round the aisles, sometimes an aisle ahead, sometimes one behind. When he saw Roger Peterson joining a checkout queue, he dumped his basket on an empty shelf and walked to the toilets, inside, he swapped his red faded tee shirt for a blue polo shirt. With a black cap to finish the change, Trevor moved back to the door. As Roger Peterson cleared the checkout, Trevor watched him approach, he was carrying two bags of shopping, turning to another person standing nearby he started speaking to him about the weather, no one including the target took any notice. When he was about twenty metres in front, he left the shop and started on the part of the job he liked. Crossing over the road, he kept a good distance, their pace matched, if Trevor got too far in front, he stopped briefly to tie a shoe lace. Roger Peterson crossed over the road at a pedestrian crossing and they were now on the same side. Trevor was aware of someone else who he thought was also trailing the target. He was bigger, more the size of Dave he thought. He hung even further back to see what was going to unfold. Roger Peterson turned right into a side street, the big guy followed him, Trevor took up his position, walking on the other side of the road. It was much quieter here, he walked slowly allowing a greater distance between them. There was a junction coming up, Roger Peterson waited, crossed the road, then carried on for about 50 metres before stopping outside a large house. Trevor saw him tap a number into a keypad and go through the door. The other person trailing had crossed to the opposite side and entered a small café on the corner of the street. Trevor continued walking, he passed the house and carried on to the end of the street. He changed his cap and wandered back up the street with his newspaper now in his hand. As he approached the house, he spotted the intercom, six buttons, that meant six flats. Making a mental note of the address he crossed the road to go into the café to have a drink and think what his next move would be. Inside, the big guy was sitting next to another of similar build, they had a table by the window, one was staring out across the road towards the door Roger Peterson had gone through. The other who Trevor had seen in the street was talking in a low whisper. Trevor ordered a mug of tea and a sandwich, the place was busy, the only free table was next to the two men. Ideally, he would have wanted to sit further away to watch what they were doing. He opened his paper and faced away from them. Listening as best he could, he picked out an American accent, he had the address, that was all he had been asked to do, he would have wanted the job to have taken a few more days, however, he was spending the night in a Premier Inn about a ten-minute walk away, he would have a good meal and quite a few beers on expenses tonight. When he had finished, he strolled back, he thought a shower followed by a phone call to Dave with the information and then relax. Everything changed after the phone call, Dave wanted him to carry out more surveillance and he needed more information about the house. “Book me a room for tomorrow night, we will be finished on Sunday.” As the call was ending, Trevor mentioned he wasn’t the only one tailing the target. Dave demanded to know who else, “amateur Americans, they’re shit at it.” Dave ended the call, he sat in the living room thinking, Sally was out, she had gone to see Sam at her mother’s, her face was still bruised and she hadn’t been out for a week.
He tried to think why the Americans would be interested in Roger Peterson, as far as Dave was aware, he had no connection with the USA. His blackmail of the Home Secretary was a British affair. He took a lager from the fridge and went upstairs. He wanted to check the address Trevor had given him. According to the local Council Tax records he occupied flat three. Dave thought, first floor, left hand side. He opened up the photograph of the group shot he had handed round at the briefing. He copied and pasted the head shots of everyone present into new images. Opening Google Images, clicking the ‘search by image’ he dragged the images one at a time into the search box. Two of the images were of Americans, one was a senator, the other a high-ranking government official, on digging deeper Dave saw that they were both married with children. He wanted to see if they were in any other of the photographs, the senator was in two others, the official in one. Both of them were highly compromising. Dave printed them out, he put them inside an envelope to take with him. He wondered if he should inform the Brigadier, but decided against it. He was in the living room when Sally came home, she wasn’t happy. “How was Sam tonight?” “Bloody awful, she is thinking of going back to him, she wonders if it was all her fault. I told her not to be so bloody stupid, I said if he has hit you once, he will do it again, how many times will he have to do it before you realise he is no good.” What does her mum say?” “She agrees with me, we will just have to wait and see.” Dave was now in the kitchen making a drink for both of them, “do you want anything to eat?” “No, I’m worn out, a drink and then bed. Do you know what you are doing yet?” “I will probably travel to London tomorrow, but not before you have come back from tennis. Would you be able to take Monday off from work. I might need you to come down on Sunday afternoon or evening, everything will be done by then.” “I’ll call them in the morning, I’ll say I have an appointment on Monday that I only found out about today. What do you want me for?” “I will tell you on Sunday before you leave.”
On Saturday morning Trevor phoned, “There was no one in the street when I returned, the lazy fuckers probably only work office hours. I walked up and down the street twice, I checked all the dark places, the cars, and a few vans parked in the street. There was no one watching. The locks are Yale, there is one on the front and back door. The door at the rear doesn’t close properly, it looks like it’s shut, but the Yale lock doesn’t engage fully, the frame is warped. It’s an old house converted into six flats, his is on the first floor, the stairs are carpeted, no creaks. His door has a Chubb lock, A thin steel could easily spring the lock, there are no alarms that I could see. You access the rear down a passage between the house and next door. There are low walls at the rear between the houses. It should be easy to go through a neighbour’s garden to get to the rear door.” “This afternoon, if they are watching, can you trail the Americans, I only want to find out where they go when finished. I will be down tonight, probably around 17.00. Hopefully you can go home tomorrow afternoon or evening.”
Dave finished his preparation for the trip, he brought in from his car the box from the boot and a few other bits he would require. He wrapped the Glock and silencer in a towel, having checked the magazine was almost full, if he needed more than two or three shots then something had gone wrong, he hoped he wouldn’t need any. He put his backpack by the front door ready to go. Sally was back by 13.00. “Come upstairs while I shower, I want to talk to you.” He sat on the bed while she was in the bathroom, the door was open, he was watching her, through the half steamed up glass he caught glimpses of her as she washed. Out the shower, she roughly dried herself, dropping the towel on the floor, she came into the bedroom and pushed Dave back onto the bed. “I don’t know when I will see you again, if you had a plan to leave anytime soon, then forget it.” It was 15.30 when he finally left the house, he was going to be late, Sally was watching him from the bedroom window as he drove away. She lay back on the bed exhausted and sobbing.
Once on the motorway, he called saying he would be late, at 19.30, he was sitting in the restaurant of the Premier Inn opposite Trevor, “how did you get on today? “Your man didn’t go out at all today as far as I know. The two Americans left mid-afternoon, they are staying in a small hotel near Paddington station. The type that is usually full of tradesmen during the week, cheap and functional. “When we have eaten, we are going out again, I want to check everything. I will be going in tomorrow morning as soon as he leaves.” “What if he doesn’t go out?” “Then we are here for another night.”
They left the hotel at 22.30, in ten minutes, they were walking down the street past the house. There was a light on in the flat, Trevor was checking the cars as he walked along. A couple of dog walkers were out for the last walk of the day, a few others were walking, usually quickly, they were the only two who appeared to be wandering. After 23.00 it became a lot quieter, they stopped opposite the house in a passageway, it was dark, no one passing would see them. “I’m going to do a recce, I’ll be back in a bit.” He quickly crossed the road and walked down the passageway at the side of the house, there was a light above the back door, it illuminated the area, six bins were in a row. Crouching low, he tried the door, he gave it a push and it moved, he pulled it closed again, he then climbed over the wall into the next property and then back again. Access would be easy, Trevor had done his job well. He hopped over the low wall and used the neighbour’s passageway to return to the street. He crossed over and called to Trevor as he walked past. The two headed back to the hotel, he wanted to tell Trevor some of the plan for tomorrow. The bar was shut, however, they sat there and talked. “Tomorrow, I want you in position sitting outside the café reading a Sunday paper, I will be doing the same inside. As soon as Roger Peterson leaves, send me a text, I will leave and walk along the road on the café side. I will cross over and walk down the passageway of the house two doors further along. Leave your table as if you had finished reading the paper. Move to a position where you will be able to see him returning, I need as much warning as possible. Later, I will text you. Walk across the road and press the buzzer for his flat, I will let you in, come upstairs and knock on the door.” “What happens then?” “You will find out tomorrow, it depends on what I discover.”
In the morning, they were first down for breakfast, they ate quickly and left, “Get your backpack, make sure it’s empty.” Outside the hotel, they split up, Trevor was first at the café, when Dave arrived, he saw him sitting where he should be. Inside he ordered a coffee and sat at the counter, other customers came and went, some sitting in doing the same as Dave and Trevor. The two Americans arrived and sat at the window watching the door into the flats, while the second ordered coffee and pancakes, “the cook won’t be here until 09.30, did you want to wait,” he nodded, paid and returned to the table with the coffees.
Dave’s phone pinged, it was time to move.
© 10210ken 2024
