Lone Wolf (10 page)

18. PHONE

‘Youssef,’ Ryan said. ‘What’s happening?’

Youssef was bulky and dark-skinned with a wispy beard. ‘You’re late,’ he said coldly, as he got off a wooden bench and started towards the entrance of Kentish Town Station.

‘Only five minutes,’ Ryan said. ‘I’m new in the neighbourhood, took a wrong turning.’

Youssef accepted this with a shrug. ‘There’s money to be made running stuff for Ali and that crew, but you gotta be punctual and fast.’

Ryan followed Youssef, blipping his Oyster card through the tube gates and down the escalator towards the platform.

‘We’re getting off at Tottenham Court Road,’ Youssef explained, as he discreetly passed over a roll of money. ‘That’s three hundred pounds. When we get out we’re gonna head towards Oxford Street. It’s three miles long and has about thirty mobile phone shops. Our job is to go into every shop along the way, and pick up one of the cheapest phones in each shop.’

‘Why not buy them all in one shop?’ Ryan asked, as they stepped off the escalator and moved on to the southbound platform.

‘Three minutes,’ Youssef said, as he looked up at the train arrivals board. He didn’t answer Ryan’s question until they’d moved to a quiet area at the end of the platform.

‘Mobile phones are convenient, but they’re also a drug dealer’s worst nightmare. Not only can the cops record every conversation, they can be used to triangulate your exact position. The only way to stay ahead of the cops is to never use a phone for more than three or four days.’

Ryan knew this already, but was keen to find out how deep Youssef’s knowledge was. ‘Why not just change the SIM card?’

Youssef shook his head. ‘Every phone has a built-in number called an IMEI. Even if you swap the SIM card, the cops can still trace the phone or block it if it gets stolen.’

‘So how often do the Hagars of this world change their numbers?’

‘I’ve heard that Hagar doesn’t carry a mobile,’ Youssef said. ‘If he wants something done, he’ll put it in the ear of a lieutenant. The lieutenant probably has to change his mobile every two or three days.’

‘Which is why we’re gonna buy the cheapest ones we can get,’ Ryan said.

‘You’re learning,’ Youssef answered. ‘And if you ever spot a dude stepping out of a sixty-grand car holding a twelve pound ninety-nine Nokia, I guarantee you he’s crooked.’

*

It took some gentle persuasion to take Rupert to a greasy spoon café behind the Pemberton estate. He ordered a full English and a large tea, Ning asked for beans on toast, while Fay went for a bacon and fried egg sandwich.

‘Tell me about Eli?’ Fay asked.

Rupert shrugged. ‘Don’t know that much,’ he said. ‘But there’s a rivalry going on. This part of town was all Hagar’s undisputed territory. But the last few months this Eli has been mixing it.’

‘So they’re at war?’ Fay asked.

‘If they are it’s a quiet war,’ Rupert said. ‘But at least healthy competition has upped the quality of the product. You get more kick from twenty quid’s worth of gear than you would have done at the start of the year.’

They paused the conversation while the waitress put down three mugs of tea and the plates of greasy food. Rupert tucked in by skewering his sausage on a fork, but Ning was put off by a plate that didn’t look too clean and the unwashed aroma of her dining companion.

‘So where do you go to buy heroin these days?’ Fay asked.

‘Eli sells a decent product. You can usually pick it up in the park over by the reservoir, or behind the Archway tower.’

‘And Hagar?’ Fay asked.

‘He’s got a dozen places, but I usually go up to the Pemberton estate.’

‘Same for cocaine?’ Ning asked, to Fay’s surprise.

‘Most places will sell you both,’ Rupert said, as he erupted into a violent coughing fit.

Fay nodded as she greedily bit into her fried egg sandwich. ‘Pemberton estate,’ she told Ning. ‘That’s where we’re headed next.’

*

It was a hot Saturday afternoon and the estate writhed with kids riding bikes, kicking balls and squirting one another with water pistols. Amidst the fun, Fay picked out an alleyway behind the refuse chute where a three-strong crew were peddling drugs.

‘Three blokes,’ Ning said. ‘How would you rob them?’

Fay shook her head. ‘It’s never worth robbing a street crew. They’re always on high alert for cops and even if you got close you’d be lucky to get two hundred in drugs and cash. You’ve got to go for big quantities to make robbing worth the risk.’

‘So why
are
we looking at street dealers?’

‘Rupert gave us an idea where to find dealers, now we need one of ’em to work for us.’

‘An informant on the inside?’ Ning asked.

Fay nodded. ‘It’s the hardest part of any operation, but my aunt taught me a few tricks.’

‘Pretend you fancy them?’ Ning asked.

‘Only as a last resort,’ Fay said, as she gave a little shudder.

After making a detailed tour of the estate, the two girls settled on a bench with a decent view over The Hangout. The youth club wasn’t officially open but there was a group of teenaged boys hanging around near the entrance and every so often one of them went inside.

‘What are we looking for?’ Ning asked.

Fay shrugged. ‘I’ll know when I see it.’

‘You reckon all these boys are working for Hagar?’

‘Lookouts, runners and wannabes,’ Fay said.

Ning was bored after half an hour on the bench, but Fay seemed fascinated. Ning was momentarily interested when she saw Ryan and Youssef roll up carrying heavily laden backpacks.

‘Could be drugs,’ Ning said.

Fay laughed. ‘What, in broad daylight in the centre of the estate? You’ve got a
lot
to learn.’

‘So who are they?’

‘Well, if they come out with those backpacks empty, we’ll know they’ve delivered something.’

‘Like what?’

‘Anything drug dealers need,’ Fay explained. ‘Milk powder for cutting drugs, plastic bags, mobile phones.’

Sure enough, Ryan and Youssef emerged a few minutes later minus their backpacks and looking pleased with themselves. Ryan briefly stood around with the mini-crew outside The Hangout, before taking the two hundred-metre stroll back home.

A few minutes after Ryan left, another kid appeared. He was nothing special to look at but Fay’s eyes were wide open.

‘Check out Mr Frizzy Hair,’ she said.

Ning was mystified. ‘What about him?’

‘The body language,’ Fay said. ‘All the other kids want to bump fists with him. And he’s a little better dressed, like he’s someone with some money in his pocket.’

CHERUB had trained Ning to pick up signs like this and she felt stupid for missing them. ‘He could just have wealthy parents,’ she said.

‘If he did it’s unlikely he’d be hanging around here.’

‘So what do we do?’

‘We’ll follow him,’ Fay said. ‘I want to know where he lives.’

19. WARREN

Fay and Ning followed their target across the Pemberton estate and on a short bus ride to a shabby housing block close to Hampstead Heath. Shortly before 7 p.m. he left his house on a bike and they had no way to follow him.

When it got dark just before ten, Fay moved in close and looked through the ground-floor apartment’s front windows.

‘Looks like it’s just his mum at home,’ Fay said. ‘No sign of a father or siblings as far as I can see.’

‘I’m tired,’ Ning moaned. ‘Someone’s gonna spot us if we keep hanging around.’

Fay sounded irritated. ‘Just
go
if you want to.’

‘You can’t stay here all night,’ Ning said. ‘You’ve got to sleep some time.’

It was a quarter to midnight when their target returned and wheeled his bike into a hallway. He turned on a light in a first-floor bedroom, and threw the window wide open to catch a breeze.

‘I reckon he’s in for the night now,’ Fay said, as she glanced at her watch.

‘The last train to Totteridge will have gone,’ Ning said. ‘But I reckon I can smuggle you into my room at Nebraska House.’

Ning earned a mild rebuke from the night supervisor for staying out after curfew and smuggled Fay into her room via a door at the back of the kitchens. The slender bed wasn’t big enough to share, so Fay wound up on the floor with bundled clothes for a pillow. Both girls slept well and nobody raised an eyebrow as Fay showered and ate breakfast with the other residents of Nebraska House.

‘What’s today’s plan?’ Ning asked.

‘Back to our target’s apartment,’ Fay said.

‘For how long?’ Ning asked wearily.

‘However long it takes,’ Fay answered. ‘This is my battle, if you’re not interested I’ll handle it on my own.’

As a CHERUB agent Ning knew she had to stick with Fay, but as a human being she didn’t relish the prospect of another hot, boring day following people around. After sneaking off and making a quick call to update James, Ning followed Fay back to their target’s apartment.

It was half past ten when the target’s mother headed out, dressed in a bright yellow suit and a matching hat like she was going to church.

‘We’re in luck,’ Fay said. ‘Let’s roll.’

‘Is there a plan?’ Ning asked.

Fay threw over a scarf. ‘Tie this over your face and follow my lead.’

The two girls tied scarves over the bottom half of their faces as they mounted the apartments’ front steps. Fay pressed the doorbell and slid the Glock handgun out the back of her jeans.

They waited long enough for Ning to say, ‘Maybe he went out again.’

But after a full minute and a second press on the doorbell a blurred figure could be seen behind the frosted glass in the front door. The teenager opened up: fifteen years old, with scruffy Nike tracksuit bottoms and a muscular chest glazed with sweat.

His first reaction to the two masked girls was vague amusement. ‘Can I help you?’

Fay barged the door with her shoulder then stuck the gun right in the youth’s face.

‘Back up, hands high,’ Fay ordered.

The youth did as he was told, backing down a hallway decorated with peeling floral wallpaper.

‘Who else is in the house?’

‘Nobody.’

Fay looked at Ning. ‘Check it out.’

Ning wasn’t armed and didn’t relish the prospect of checking out all the rooms. She checked the kitchen and living-room first, before racing upstairs to do the bedrooms and bathroom. Meantime, Fay had the youth backing up the stairs to his room.

‘What’s your name?’ she barked.

‘Warren,’ the kid said.

Fay and Ning met up in Warren’s tiny bedroom.

‘Christ it stinks in here,’ Fay said, as she stepped over a floor mounded in tangled clothes and underwear.

Ning recognised the backpack Warren had gone out with the night before. She unzipped it and found about thirty plastic bags filled with cocaine.

‘How much do you sell these for?’ Ning asked. ‘Twenty?’

Warren nodded.

‘Sit on your bed, hands on head,’ Fay ordered.

Ning tipped the contents of the backpack out over the floor. ‘What’s gonna happen to you if we steal this?’

Warren kept a wary eye on Fay’s gun.

‘They’ll kick my ass and I’ll have to work to pay it back.’

Fay nodded. ‘And when word gets around that you got robbed by two girls?’

Warren just shook his head. ‘So you wanna take my stash, take it, bitches.’

‘Don’t call me a bitch,’ Fay said angrily, as she closed in on Warren with the gun. ‘Six hundred quid’s worth is chicken shit! We don’t want—’

Before Fay could finish, Warren lunged and grabbed the end of the gun. Fay stumbled forward as she tried to keep hold. Ning’s first reaction was to dive for cover in case a wild shot went off during the struggle, but once she was sure the gun wasn’t pointing her way she lunged for the bed and launched a flying kick at Warren’s head.

The powerful blow sent Warren into a daze and enabled Fay to stagger back with the gun. Ning made sure Warren got the message by punching him hard on the back, while Fay cracked the pistol across his brow with enough force to make a cut.

‘That’s what happens if you mess with us,’ Fay shouted, as Warren slumped sideways on the bed, making a low groan. ‘Now sit up straight before I pull you up by your hair.’

‘Hands on head,’ Ning added.

Warren coughed as he straightened up. Fay picked one of the little packets of cocaine off the carpet and flung it contemptuously at his midriff.

‘I don’t care about your chicken-feed six hundred-pound stash. I need information,’ Fay began. ‘If you’re dealing for Hagar’s crew, you must have a lot of info.’

‘I’m not a snitch,’ Warren said.

Fay laughed. ‘Imagine your mommy coming home from church and finding your brains splattered all over that lovely IKEA wardrobe. If you tell me what I need to know, that doesn’t have to happen. I won’t even steal your drugs.’

Warren looked down into his lap. ‘What is it you want to know?’

‘This whole thing with Hagar and Eli.’

‘What about it?’ Warren asked.

‘How did it start?’

‘I don’t know every detail,’ Warren said. ‘But there used to be an informal agreement. Eli would sell weed, Hagar dealt in coke and heroin. Then, six months back, Hagar started selling marijuana and Eli got pissed off and started up with cocaine.’

‘So is there a war?’ Fay asked.

‘Eli and Hagar hate one another’s guts. There’s been a few beatings-up and some scuffles over territory, but mostly they’ve been tiptoeing around each other.’

‘Evenly matched?’ Fay suggested.

Warren nodded. ‘There’s been untold rumours that Hagar is about to make some big move against Eli’s crew but I’ve not seen any sign.’

‘Do you report to Hagar?’ Fay asked.

Warren started to laugh. ‘I’ve only ever seen Hagar like twice. I get my supplies from a guy named Steve.’

‘Steve,’ Fay said thoughtfully. ‘Is he close to Hagar?’

‘Close as anyone, I’d guess.’

Fay smiled. ‘How much do you make selling drugs?’

Warren shrugged. ‘I’m pretty small-time. A hundred, maybe two on a really good week.’

Fay nodded. ‘How would you like to earn an extra hundred a week?’

‘For what?’

‘Tell me everything you hear about Hagar and Eli and anything you hear about drugs.’

Warren liked the idea of the money, but still seemed reluctant. ‘Are you working for Eli’s crew?’

‘We’re working for ourselves,’ Fay said, sounding more friendly as she lowered the gun.

Fay grabbed a pencil and wrote a mobile phone number on one of Warren’s school books.

‘Call me any time,’ Fay said. ‘I’ll make it worth your while.’