“At least he won’t have to pretend anymore,” Tyler informed them with an impish grin. “He had a lump on his forehead the size of a golf ball, and he needed fifteen stitches to sew up the wound in his scalp.”
Dean raised a hand. “Just out of interest, did he blow over when they breath-tested him?”
“He wasn’t fit enough to provide a sample, so they took blood,” Tyler said. “He’ll get a four-week bail date in relation to that, but I don’t think there’s any doubt he was well over the limit.”
“Can you all turn to page six in the bundle you’ve been given,” Reggie said. He waited patiently while everyone did this.
Page six was actually an A3 sheet of paper folded in half.
“This is a map of a place called Peasmarsh, a remote area in East Sussex near the Kent border,” he said. “As you can see, the mast that’s currently serving the 777 number is marked A and has the grid reference underneath.” He tapped the copy he held in his hand at the relevant point, which resembled a small Eiffel Tower.
“The circle surrounding this is the cell radius,” he explained, “and you will see it has been divided into three slightly differently shaded areas, which are marked AA, AB, and AC. These are the cell’s azimuths. Turn to page seven now, please.”
There was a loud rustling of papers as another A3 sheet was unfolded.
“This is a blow-up of the relevant azimuth, AC. The 777 mobile is currently at an address within this area. This is both bad and good news for us. Bad because it’s a bloody huge area, but good because according to the ordnance survey maps, there aren’t that many properties within it. I’ve marked out the three most likely locations, which are two little hamlets and a cluster of farm properties dotted along a long and winding country lane called Mackerel Hill, as M1, M2, and M3.”
“That place sounds a little fishy to me,” Murray said, and then sniggered.
Dillon shot him a warning look, and Murray quickly averted his eyes.
“Sussex had their force helicopter fly over the area for us this morning and they found two very remote clearings that we didn’t know about from the map. These also contained a scattering of cottages, and they can only be reached from unnamed roads that are basically dirt tracks,” Reg said, ignoring the interruption. “These are marked as C1 and C2. Guv?”
“Thanks, Reggie,” Tyler said. “Okay, so in case you’re wondering why I had Reggie phone you all up at the crack of dawn and tell you to come in dressed in scruffs, and to bring an overnight bag with you, it’s because we’re going to check out all of these potential addresses today to see if we can identify which one our suspects are holed up in. To assist, we’ve scrambled together a host of specialist support personnel, who Mr Dillon will brief you about shortly. The more eagle eyed amongst you will have noticed that Steve Bull, Dick Jarvis and Paul Evans are conspicuous by their absence. That’s because I shipped them off to East Sussex late last night to start watching a bloke called Kenneth Meade, a low-level criminal who runs a small fishing boat out of Rye Harbour, a couple of miles down the road from Peasmarsh. Sussex Constabulary and Her Majesties’ Customs and Revenue both have files on him, and they suspect him of being involved in small-time smuggling, although they’ve never been able to prove anything. His mobile is the one that Garston has been in contact with over the last few days via the 777 number. Is that right, Reggie?”
“Yeah, that’s right, guv. At the moment, it’s in the cell that covers his home address, and the only time it moved during the last day or so was to go to the cell covering the harbour where his boat is moored.”
Jack took a deep breath. “So, here’s the plan,” he told them. “We know they’ve moved to a location near the coast. We know they’re in contact with a suspected smuggler, and we know their plan is to ship Winston over to France. In a minute, Susie’s going to put you all into teams. You will be deployed to recce the addresses we’ve already mentioned. You will be assisted by a TSU signal detector van. Once we get a positive contact, a team of SFOs will be called in to make entry and – hopefully – detain our suspects. In the meantime, Steve’ll keep the fisherman’s address under observation. If he moves, Steve and his team will go with him. If they get a sighting of our suspects, the SFOs will be called in to make the arrest. The Coastguard has been put on notice in case Meade’s boat departs before we’re in a position to move in. If that happens, there will be an interdiction at sea. So, fingers crossed, we’ve got all the bases covered.” Tyler laughed, but there was no mirth in it. “Sounds easy in theory, I know, but putting all this into practice is going to be pretty tricky.”
He paused to let the words sink in, taking the time to let his eyes wander around the room and engage as many of his staff as he could. “It stands to reason that if Winston’s moved from London to the coast his departure to France is imminent, and as Meade has a boat moored at Rye Harbour my money is on him leaving from there. Make no mistake, this is going to be a gruelling couple of days for us. I wish it were otherwise, but
