Wrecking Crew

TEN

Stone woke before Linda. For a while, he lay propped up on one elbow, content to watch her sleeping. She was lying on her belly with her face turned towards Stone. The room was warm and during the night, the sheets had slipped down towards her slim hips, exposing the soft curve of her naked back. Eric reached over and gently brushed some of Linda’s blonde hair away from her face. Even though it was slightly squashed by the pillow, and puffy with sleep, he thought she had the most beautiful face he had ever seen.

She had a small face, with classic high cheekbones, almond shaped eyes, and delicate eyebrows. There was a little vertical scar just below her right eye. Her nose was, by conventional thinking, perhaps a little short and slightly upturned at the end, but Stone felt that it perfectly complimented the gentle wave of her soft lips, which even in sleep, seemed to be in a permanent half-smile. She had small, delicate ears, with three piercings, two on the lobe and one more, higher up. He thought that the shape of her ear fitted perfectly into the way her jawline swept down to her strong chin, which carried another small scar — perhaps a reminder of some childhood fall.

Reluctantly he tore himself away from the striking beauty of her face. In compensation, he allowed his eyes to wonder to her delicate hand, along her arm and across her naked shoulders. Stone’s mind drifted happily back to their earlier lovemaking. He remembered how surprisingly strong Linda was — particularly for such a slim woman. At one point, at the peak of their heat and passion, they had again play-wrestled for dominance. Linda had won easily, although to some degree Stone had deliberately thrown the game — conscious that the prize for second place was to lie back and watch a beautiful woman lost in the throes of ecstasy. Even so, he had wondered how someone so petite had developed such unexpected strength — perhaps he should join her yoga class.

His eyes wondered freely along her shoulder to her neck, and then down the gentle curve of her spine. In his mind he retraced the delightful journey he had taken just a few hours earlier, when encouraged by her soft moans of pleasure, he had passionately anointed her naked back with his gentle licks and kisses. He continued his visual journey until he reached the edge of the sheets, where the soft swell of her buttocks was punctuated by two perfect dimples. Stone reached down and gently lifted the sheet.

“Are you checking out my ass, you perv?” Linda mumbled sleepily, without looking up.

“I was just thinking how fat you’ve got since we met,” Stone answered factually, dropping the sheet.

“Yeah, I’ve really let myself go,” she patted his arm gently, “but at least I’m not old like you!”

Stone leaned down and blew a raspberry into the small of her back. Linda giggled and kicked in a delighted response. Then he planted a quick row of kisses up her back and onto her face, stopping when he reached her lips.

“Breakfast?” he asked. “Are you hungry?”

“Mmm… starving,” she growled huskily.

Stone leaned forward and kissed her forehead lightly.

“Stay there. Today we can have breakfast in bed. What is your desire?”

Linda rolled over and sat up, casually revealing her nakedness. Even though they had made passionate love just a few hours earlier, Stone gave an involuntary gasp of lust. Linda noticed his reaction and smiled a little coyly, before reaching for the sheet.

“Come on, Stone — get your head in the game! Tea and toast will do fine. Chop, chop!”

“Yes ma’am.” Stone gave a mock salute and headed for the kitchen.

It was an hour later, when they were sitting at the breakfast bar and drinking a second cup of coffee, that Linda eventually asked the question.

“So what happened yesterday?”

Stone stared silently at his coffee cup, his eyes distant and unfocused, while he thought about what to say. How could he safely encapsulate the terrible events of the previous day? Although Linda had indicated that she understood some of what was involved in Stone’s hunt for the Wrecking Crew, and what that entailed, he was genuinely worried about sharing too much information. What if she thought less of him? What if she screamed and ran out of his life forever? On the other hand, what if he lied? How would that feel?

The silence stretched for two minutes, three, and then five. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, it was respectful — like an old married couple quietly waiting for a bus, or sitting together reading the Sunday papers. It was as if they were just two people lost in independent thought. Two people who didn’t feel the need to fill every gap in the conversation. The comfortable silence stretched on as Stone considered what to say. Finally, he came to a decision.

If their relationship was to be built on a foundation of truth and trust, Stone felt that he had to tell Linda something about what had happened. At the same time, if she was going to help in the search for the Wrecking Crew, then Linda needed to understand exactly what she was getting into. That was her right. He had to take the risk, even if there was a danger of losing her. Stone took a deep breath and turned towards Linda, but as he did she put her hand on his arm. Clearly, she had something to say, but had been waiting for the correct moment.

“Before you speak Eric, there’s something that I want to say first.”

“Go on,” he said guardedly.

“This… ” she flicked her index finger back and forth, pointing at both of them, “this relationship is important to me.”

“It’s important to me as well.”

Linda nodded, slightly impatiently, and held up a reassuring hand.

“That’s not really what I meant — although it’s good to know.” She gave a little smile. “Let me put it another way.”

Linda subtly changed her posture, like a seasoned politician preparing to deliver a keynote message.

“This is important to me, because it’s something that I have always wanted, but never found. In the past, I’ve had boyfriends, not many, but a few, and I’ve had some relationships — but I’ve never had this. I feel that we have something here, something that could be special — something almost unique. People talk about ‘love at first sight’ and ‘soul mates’; well I don’t know what that means, or what it would feel like, but I know I have never felt anything like this.”

She took his hand and looked into his eyes, Stone felt like she was looking directly into his soul. Through his hand he could feel her pulse racing, it was in perfect time with the way his heart was thumping within his chest. She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“The thing is — I’m taking a huge risk here, baring my soul like this. Many men would just run away in panic, but I wanted to be honest with you. I feel that it’s important. I’ve told you what’s in my heart, and risked losing you, because I want to be with you. So… I just wanted to say, if you decide to tell me about what happened, whatever it is — it will be OK.”

Stone said nothing. He just leaned forward and kissed Linda. He kissed her as if he was kissing her for the first time. He kissed her as if he was kissing her for the last time. They kissed each other as if they never wanted to stop. When they eventually stopped kissing, Stone spoke first.

He told her everything. He told her about the Wrecking Crew, and about the files Charles had sent. He told her about the death of Valerie Jenkins, about Carter, and even how Megan was running background checks on Linda. Then he gave a step-by-step description of what had happened the previous night.

For an hour, Linda sat at the breakfast bar and listened attentively as Stone gave her every detail. Nodding occasionally, she said very little. She broke her silence twice to clarify something, and once more to swear loudly when Stone described finding young Jenny gift-wrapped in the trunk of the Mercedes. When there was nothing left to say, he sat back and held up his hands defensively.

“So there you go… that’s it, that’s all there is to know.”

“Wow! It’s a lot to take in! I feel like I’ve just walked in off the street and into the middle of a bank robbery.”

“I know what you mean, it’s all very surreal. Look… I would understand if you wanted to walk away… you probably should, you know,” Stone said seriously, but with trepidation.

“Thanks for the offer Stone, but no deal. You’re stuck with me. I told you the other day that I wanted to help, and I still do.” Her fingers impatiently drummed the breakfast bar. “So what happens next?”

Stone’s heart surged. He suddenly realized just what an extraordinary woman Linda Smart was, and how much he had already fallen in love with her. He slowly reached over and took her hand.

“Today we spend together. This is our day. Tomorrow morning we’ll drive down to Megan’s place. Ed Carter wants to meet you.”

Peter White clutched a large manila envelope to his chest, and stared fearfully at the door to The Fixer’s office. He felt like a schoolboy waiting to see the headmaster. His armpits were moist, his heart was racing, and he could feel stomach acid burning in his gullet. He shouldn’t be anxious. As far as he was aware, he had no need to be, he had always performed his work admirably. Yet, here he was staring at the door, afraid to knock, but too scared to turn and face the vile bodyguard again.

Peter hated Bunny. He thought him to be ignorant, unwashed, and uncivilized. Peter also knew that Bunny regularly sexually assaulted Becka. He was aware that The Fixer knew this as well, and that he chose to do nothing about it. In fact, Peter suspected that The Fixer took some sick pleasure from allowing such obvious and outrageous assaults to take place, in the sure knowledge that nobody would dare to complain. Peter had speculated that it was a way for The Fixer to dominate his employees passively. In a similar way, he kept his name secret, making people call him ‘Boss’ or ‘The Fixer’, as if he were the head of the Secret Service or something.

Peter enjoyed his work. In many ways, it was good to be in the Wrecking Crew. He was paid very well, and he relished the feeling of supremacy that his position brought. However, like the other employees, Peter didn’t know his real employer. His pay slips came from a charity, but that was clearly just a ridiculous subterfuge. He suspected that the Wrecking Crew was actually a clandestine arm of the CIA or perhaps the British security services. He liked that idea. He was a patriot at heart, and loved to think that he was a spy doing good things for his country. Admittedly, some of the things he had been asked to do were questionable, but he had always suppressed his concerns in the hope that his work was officially sanctioned from upon high.

However, some time ago Peter had begun to realize that The Fixer was a dangerous and unstable man who was prone to sudden outbursts of anger, particularly in the face of bad news. He also recognized that his boss could be petty and vindictive, using his considerable power to further his own agenda. Over the last twenty months, Peter had noticed that some of their assignments had been directly linked to The Fixer’s personal interests. Usually this was when someone had crossed him, or posed a danger to the Wrecking Crew — like Charles Rathbone, or the man in the envelope, Eric Stone. Peter took a deep breath and knocked softly on the door.

“Come!” the Fixer barked sharply.

“I’ve got the initial results of the surveillance you ordered on Eric Stone,” Peter said, his voice trembling slightly with fear, “there is a report, and some photos.”

“Ah, yes — let me see.”

Peter handed over the envelope and, reading from his copy of the report, he began a commentary as his boss read along.

“Eric Stone aged thirty-nine, martial arts instructor — owns a dojo in Colchester. Decent earnings, taxpayer, unmarried, and no criminal record — he seems like a decent, upstanding guy. Very respected and successful in his field, he has a staff of twelve. There’s some evidence to suggest that he gives additional training to some of the troops from the Army barracks in Colchester — probably to help sharpen their skills and fitness before deployment. Charles Rathbone was a member of the dojo, which seemed odd until I noticed that Stone runs several self-defense classes for the disabled, and kids with special needs. I guess that Rathbone went to him because of his disability.

“We had people watching his work and his house. I had someone go and enquire about karate lessons. He asked to see Stone in person, but the guy he spoke to said that he hasn’t been at work for a while. By my calculation, he has probably been away since Rathbone died. For a while, it looked like he may have dropped off the grid completely, but yesterday he turned up at his house. When he arrived, he met with a girl and she stayed the night. There are photos of both of them.”

The Fixer flicked through the sequence of photos of Stone arriving at the house, then the blonde girl arriving, and the picture of Stone and the girl kissing. As he reached the first photo that clearly showed both faces, he suddenly stopped flicking and sat very still. When finally he spoke, Peter was shocked by the sudden tension and anger in The Fixer’s voice. He wondered if he had made some dreadful error or omission.

“Who’s the girl?” The Fixer held up the photograph.

“Um… let me see… ” Peter quickly searched to the correct page in his copy of the report. “Ah yes, here we are. The red sports car is registered to a Linda Smart. Aged thirty, she is a fitness and yoga instructor from Sawbridgeworth. She has a rented studio there and a nearby apartment. Average earnings, regular tax returns and so on. There is no history of previous communication with Rathbone. She has no criminal record… just two parking tickets… stopped for speeding last year, but let off with a warning. Nothing else of any interest, really. She’s a pretty girl though.”

Peter smiled as he closed the report, slightly embarrassed at the last comment. He hoped that The Fixer wasn’t about to explode in anger. In the end, his response was rather muted.

“Um… fine… tell your people that they did well.”

“Thanks boss, I’m sure they’ll be happy to hear that—” he stopped as The Fixer held up his hand.

“And I want you to up the surveillance on Stone. I want maximum coverage, day and night. I want to know where he goes, who he talks to, what he does. I want the lot; phones, email, post, everything. Do you understand?”

“Yes boss, no problem,” Peter said, trying to hide his relief, “I’ll put a team on it immediately. They should be in place by first thing tomorrow.”

“And the girl — you’d better do the girl as well.”

“Ok… yes. Err… one thing though… there will be quite a large expense… who do I invoice for this?”

The question was met with stony silence. The Fixer sat completely still, staring unblinkingly at the photo of Eric Stone and his girlfriend. His knuckles were white with tension. Peter White remained quiet. He knew better than to interrupt when his boss was thinking.

The photograph he held showed the girl in profile, but Eric Stone was visible almost full-faced. The Fixer was shocked. He felt chilled to the bone. It was like seeing a ghost — in fact he was seeing a ghost. He had recognized the face almost instantly. He knew that people’s faces could change over time, particularly in this era of elective plastic surgery. It was some years since he had seen this particular face. He had only ever seen it once before. On that occasion, he had seen the face from a great distance, in poor light and with the aid of binoculars. Nevertheless, he was positive. He recognized the face in the photograph. Something was wrong — something was very wrong.

“This is internal Peter,” the Fixer’s voice was so quiet it was almost a whisper. “This Eric Stone is a big risk to our organisation. Bring me the invoices, I’ll sign for them.”

While Eric cleared away the breakfast dishes, Linda got her bag from her car and unpacked her things. Then they went for a run together. They followed Eric’s usual route; enduring a couple of minutes of dodging traffic and pedestrians, before picking up the riverside sidewalk that quickly led them out of town. From there on it was a pleasant scenic loop of around five miles. At first Eric ran a little slower than usual. However, they soon upped the pace, when he realized that Linda was every bit as fit as he was. She was also just as competitive.

As they neared the town again, on the sidewalk alongside the river, they slowed to walking pace. Linda pointed to a phone booth, where the sidewalk met the road, and challenged Stone to a race.

“Last one there does a forfeit — ok?” she suggested.

“Right, you’re on!” Stone stood behind Linda with his hands on her shoulders and gave the countdown. “Ready, set… Oooff!”

At the last moment, Linda drove her elbow back into Eric’s solar plexus and sprinted off shouting, ‘Go!’ over her shoulder.

Laughing and gasping for breath, Eric sprinted after her, but he soon slowed as he realized that he couldn’t win. Instead, he made the most of his defeat by checking out her delightful bottom as he jogged along in second place. After a half-hearted complaint about cheating, Stone conceded her victory and graciously accepted his forfeit — giving Linda a piggyback ride all the way back to the house.

As they were getting dried after sharing a shower, Linda remembered that she was scheduled to give a yoga class that evening in Sawbridgeworth.

“Can I come?” Stone asked, “I would like to watch,”

“Na-ah, no spectators allowed. But you can join in,” Linda wiggled her eyebrows, “it’ll be a thrill for the girls.”

“Ok — I’m game,” Stone laughed. “And afterwards we should stop at your place and get some more clothes. I think you should move in.”

“Wow! So soon — we just met?” Linda said teasingly.

“Well, at least until this thing with the Wrecking Crew is over,” Stone said defensively. “Until then I want to keep you close, and make sure that you’re ok.”

“And afterwards… ” she left the question hanging.

“And afterwards,” he pulled her into his powerful arms, “afterwards, I want to keep you close and make sure you are ok.”

“My hero!” She leaned forward and gently nibbled his chin, before kissing him fully on the lips.

The next morning they were on the road by 7.30am. The meeting with Carter and Megan was arranged for nine, but they had forty miles of British rush-hour traffic to negotiate along the way. They had decided to take Linda’s car, and she was driving, which gave Eric the freedom to watch for any sign of a tail. Ever since that night at Eric’s house, they had been watching to see if they were being followed. They had seen nothing so far, but the strong feelings of being observed persisted, so they remained cautious and alert.

Once they joined the expressway heading south towards Harlow, Linda moved to the outside lane and pushed her little sports car to almost one-hundred miles an hour. After five minutes, she suddenly halved her speed, and cut towards the inner lane. All the time Stone scanned behind and ahead, for any sign of traffic that was matching their unusual pace. He saw nothing to suggest that they were being followed, but all the same, he remained vigilant.

As they neared the off-ramp for Harlow, Stone twisted in his seat once again. Linda gave him a sidelong glance.

“I don’t think we’re being followed; at least not at the moment.”

“I agree. Actually, I was just trying to get comfortable,” he admitted. “I’m a little stiff after doing your yoga class last night.”

Linda laughed out loud.

“We were doing the easy stuff. You’re obviously not as fit as you thought!”

“No argument here,” Stone conceded, “I was very impressed. Although there were some similarities to what we do in martial arts, the breathing and stretching, it was the differences that were challenging. You certainly made a convert of me.”

“Good! We should do some yoga every day. In exchange, perhaps you can teach me some karate and self-defense.”

“You have a deal,” Stone said smiling. They formally bumped fists to seal the agreement.

When they arrived at Megan’s, Stone directed Linda to drive around the block, so he could check for a tail one more time. Satisfied that they were not being followed, they parked across the street and walked up to her apartment.

Carter opened the door before they had even knocked. He wordlessly led the way along the narrow corridor and into the office, where Megan was waiting. As Stone did the introductions, there was an awkward moment when Megan turned in her chair, crossed her arms, and openly assessed the woman who had entered her domain. Like a cat waiting to be invited to join the pack, Linda stood patiently and politely in the center of the room, with her hands hanging loosely by her sides. Stone turned to his friend for moral support, but Carter was carefully staring at some imaginary spot on the ceiling. After what seemed like an eternity, Megan smiled and leaned forward to shake hands with Linda. Eric gave an involuntary sigh of relief, which triggered a snort of laughter from Megan.

“Nice catch, Stone.”

“Thank you,” Eric said, slightly embarrassed, “I think so as well.”

“I’m very pleased to meet with you, Linda,” Megan said with a genuine smile.

“Likewise,” Linda responded.

“I understand you’ve been rocking his world lately. Is he any good?” Megan said trying for her usual shock factor.

“MEGAN!” the men shouted in perfect unison.

Linda seemed unperturbed and whispered conspiratorially.

“Actually, he’s awesome. I’m only with him for the sex.”

“Go girl!” Megan gave a ‘high five’, which Linda accepted as energetically as was prudent in the confines of the small office.

Carter gave a polite cough to bring the girls to heel. They shared a shrug and Linda changed the subject.

“Eric has spoken highly of your computer skills.”

“Thanks,” Megan nodded, “I checked you out by the way — just to make sure that you were genuine. It was all good.”

“Thanks, Megan,” Carter quickly interrupted. “Welcome to the team, Linda.”

“Thank you, Ed,” Linda said, “I’m very pleased to be here. After learning about what happened to Charles Rathbone, I wanted to help you guys to find this Wrecking Crew. I want to see this put right.”

“So do I Linda, so do we all.”

Linda stood alongside Stone and took his hand. They shared a small smile. Carter sat on the edge of the desk and folded his arms.

“Now, if you two girls have finished circling each other, perhaps we can get on? Megan… do you want to bring us up to date?”

Megan took a moment to find the correct page on her laptop and collect her thoughts. Then she began reading from her notes.

“Ok… first things first. With Ed’s help, I was able to see the police forensic report about Charles’ computers. I’m convinced that all of the kiddie porn on his computer was planted.”

“I never doubted that it wasn’t, but it’s good to know,” Stone said honestly. “Thanks, Megan.”

“You’re welcome.” She turned towards Eric. “Although what they did, and the ease with which they did it, should concern us greatly.”

“How so?” Linda asked.

“Well… even though Charles’ computer wasn’t particularly well protected, and planting the evidence was quite an easy task by my standards, I understand that the porn they found was some of the worst that the police had ever seen. Contrary to popular belief, that kind of sick stuff is not readily available. It would probably have been easier to plant a nuclear bomb making manual, and some plutonium, than it was to do what they did. My point is this… These people have considerable resources, and the skills to use them. What’s more, I’m still no closer to finding them. Frankly it’s a little scary.”

“How are they keeping such a low profile?” Linda asked.

Before answering, Megan spun around in a full circle on her office chair. Then she pointed at Linda.

“Good question! I think that they trade strictly in cash, as well as using good field-craft, and simple old-fashioned technology.” She waved a sheet of paper. “Ladies and gentlemen, introducing the sturdy A4 laptop!”

Linda remained silent, not wanting to derail Megan’s flow.

“The lack of traceable electronic footprints suggests that they work off the grid as much as possible. Imagine that it was your operation, how would you do it?”

Stone leaned forward. “Well—,” he began, but Megan interrupted immediately.

“Sorry, rhetorical question. First, you would advertise by word of mouth and communicate in some untraceable way. I suspect they’re using ‘burner’ phones, USB sticks, and Bluetooth file swaps.”

Stone whistled and passed a flat hand over his head. “Way out of my league — I have no idea what any of that means.”

“Ok… I’ll explain. Think of how Charles sent you his message. A micro data card stuck to a birthday card — pretty much untraceable. It would be much the same if you slipped a USB stick into someone’s pocket. Actually, if you think about it, Charles used the Wrecking Crew’s own covert methods to beat their surveillance. It was really very clever.

“A ‘burner’ is just a phone like any other, but it isn’t registered to any address. The cell phone that Ed gave you last week is a burner. If you need to, you can dump it at any time.

“The Bluetooth file swap is a favourite of the terrorists. Imagine that I needed to give you some detailed instructions. First, I put them into a data file, perhaps, a Word document or a PDF file on my smart phone. Next, I get you to change your phone’s Bluetooth settings to make it visible to my device. Then all I have to do is to get within thirty yards or so, and I can dump the file directly onto your phone. It’s that simple.”

“Simple for you maybe,” Stone joked, “but all that IT stuff is scary for me.”

“Luddite!” Megan snorted in mock derision. “Anyway, on the up side, their communication methods could make it easier for you to spot a hand-off. Envelopes stuffed with cash and instructions written on bits of paper are far simpler to spot than electronic bank transfers through some shell Corporations in the Cayman Islands.”

“I’ll talk you and Linda through field-craft 101 later,” Carter added. He turned back towards Megan. “Carry on please.”

“Ok… and now for some good news,” she said with a bright smile. “Anton Stephens. It seems that we got lucky — lucky — lucky. As instructed, young Jenny left his Mercedes at the freeway service area on the A1. From there it was apparently stolen, by a person, or persons unknown. Yesterday it was discovered near Cardiff — would you believe — it was completely burned out. There were two crispy corpses in the trunk, but no useable evidence. As far as the police were concerned, drug deal gone wrong — case close-ed!

“Second… I spent a lot of time scrutinizing their cell phone records. Stephens didn’t have a home phone and neither did Markov, there was very little of interest — unless you want to sell some drugs. Markov’s calls were all to his boss, takeout food joints, or various call girls — presumably for takeout sex. Stephens’s phone was exclusively used for calls to suppliers, clients, and employees. The GPS data tracking his movements gave the same results — buyers and suppliers. He was obviously a very careful guy. At least up until he made a fatal mistake.”

She gave Stone a sly look and a wink.

“The guns were a bust,” Carter added. “The numbers had been professionally removed, so I presume they weren’t registered. For now, they will stay in the lock box in the trunk or my car — along with your weapons. We may need them soon.”

He nodded politely for Megan to continue.

“There was just one little thing in his bank accounts,” she said, “Although it may turn out to be nothing.”

“Go on,” Stone said encouragingly.

“Well, a good rule of thumb in trying to find someone who’s hiding — is to follow the money. Somebody somewhere is being paid, and someone else is doing the paying. So I always try and track the money.”

“Makes sense,” Linda said.

“We know that this Wrecking Crew is basically muscle for hire. It’s very intelligent muscle, but muscle all the same. So I started to go through the bank accounts of Stephens and all of his associates, looking for payments that could be out of place. And I think I found one.” She beamed a bright smile and continued. “You may recall that Stephens did some legitimate work to cover his drug dealing?”

“Wasn’t he a marketing consultant or something?” Stone asked.

“Correct. And through that work Stephens had a contract with a respectable charity. It’s called ‘Second Chances’ and it specializes in providing rehabilitation for offenders.”

“Doing respectable work for a respectable charity, I presume that they were paying him?” Stone asked.

“Indeed they were. But the odd thing is that one of Stephens’s drug buyers — a bar’s landlord — has twice made quite substantial contributions to the same charity. And get this, the two payments were just three weeks apart, and for exactly the same amount of money. Coincidentally, it was at around the time of his last license renewal—”

“A half-payment as a deposit, and the balance paid on completion of the contract?” Linda suggested.

“Not just a pretty face,” Megan nodded in agreement. “Call me an old skeptic if you like, but I don’t believe for a minute that these drug dealer types are big on charitable contributions. It must be a front.”

“Good job, Megan,” Carter said. “What else did you find out about ‘Second Chances’?”

“Sadly not a lot,” she said flicking through her notes to the relevant entry. “They have a small office in a converted store in Aylesbury, in Buckinghamshire. Their financials all seem to be above board. There are six full-time employees and a board of three Trustees. They seem to raise a decent amount in charitable contributions, which they use to aid the training and rehabilitation of anyone with a criminal record and a genuine desire to start afresh. It’s all very commendable stuff on the surface, and I have no evidence to the contrary. But I am unconvinced.”

“With so many criminals in one place, it would make a perfect front for an operation like the Wrecking Crew,” Linda added.

“My thoughts exactly! However, the facts that we have so far, do not support such a theory. All we have just now is a coincidence — two people with a criminal connection, making and receiving payments to a rehabilitation charity. We simply need more information.”

“What do you suggest?” Stone asked.

Carter stood up and took center stage.

“I think you should talk to this guy who made the payments. Perhaps you can pose as tax inspectors or something — suggest that you’re checking up on this ‘Second Chances’ charity, and ask about the reason for his contribution.”

“Yeah, I guess that could work,” Stone nodded, “but what if he asks for ID or something?”

“That’s not a problem,” Megan jumped in, “I can knock you up some fake Inland Revenue identifications. I’ll make two — you should take Linda. Those tax types always work in pairs… ” she suddenly looked down, slightly embarrassed, “or so I’ve heard.”

Stone was unhappy at the unexpected suggestion.

“What about you Ed, you’re the investigator. Wouldn’t two guys together be safer?”

“Hey!” Linda complained, “I can look after myself.”

Carter shook his head at Stone. “Actually, I agree with Megan. I think that you two will present a more believable front. Less threatening and more likely to get an answer in the circumstances.”

Stone gave Carter a pleading look.

“Are you sure?”

“Sorry Eric,” he gave an apologetic shrug, “anyway, at the moment I’m too busy to take time off. I still have a business to run you know. Just now I need to keep on top of things, so I can be available when you really need my help.”

Stone understood the subtext to Carter’s excuse, and immediately gave up the fight. In any event, until they had stopped the Wrecking Crew, he preferred to keep Linda safe at his side — although he would soon learn that being at his side was the last place where she would be safe.