CHERUB: Maximum Security (27 page)

‘Who are we meeting?’ James asked, as he unravelled a map of Boise city centre.

‘Nobody. It’s a precaution, in case Jane’s phone was being bugged. She tells you to go to one hotel, then leaves a message there under a false name. The message gives you the name of some hotel on the other side of town, which is where you’ll really be staying.’

James had hoped that the FBI would have the room at the Comfort Lodge staked out by the time they arrived. Now he was relying on the patches stuck to his and Lauren’s skin, and these tiny devices were notoriously unreliable.

‘You don’t really think the FBI could have tracked us all the way up here, do you?’ James asked.

Vaughn shrugged. ‘I doubt it, but Curtis’ ma has to be real careful. The feds pull out the stops once they put you on that most wanted list. See that cellphone?’

James nodded.

‘Came to me in a Fed-Ex package two days ago, with instructions not to even switch it on until we were on the move. Maybe Jane is over-cautious, but there are prisons full of people who weren’t cautious enough.’

*

The Star Plaza was a bog-standard business hotel a few minutes’ drive from Boise airport, with the usual marble and faux-antique furnishings in the lobby. Vaughn looked nervous as he strolled past reception with the three kids in tow. He approached two old-timers, sitting in armchairs around an occasional table. They wore cheap looking suits and their long white beards suggested the men had been bikers in their younger days.

‘Bill, Eugene,’ Vaughn said, nodding guardedly. ‘Didn’t expect to find you two in this neck of the woods.’

‘Well you did,’ Bill said grumpily, furrowing his brow as though he resented the fact Vaughn existed.

Vaughn gestured with his hand. ‘This is James, Curtis and Lauren.’

‘You don’t say?’ the old geezer croaked. ‘The lady says you’ll get your money transfer in a few days. We’ll take ’em up to the rooms. No need for
you
to stick around.’

James got a whiff of pomade, as Bill hauled himself out of his chair. He noticed that Eugene, the other old man, wore a hearing aid.

‘So, I’d best be going,’ Vaughn said, as he looked fondly at James. ‘I can see you out there in Canada, cruising on your Harley in a few years’ time.’

‘Yeah,’ James smiled, ‘I hope so.’

‘But at least my daughter’s safe from you now.’

James missed a beat, as Vaughn burst out laughing. ‘You think Lisa and me didn’t realise you were carrying on?’

‘Yeah um … Well …’ James babbled nervously, as he caught an extremely frosty look off Lauren.

‘When my eldest got her first boyfriend, I wanted to kill him. By the time you get to the fourth one, you know better than to put up a fight.’

James grinned, as Vaughn gave him a hug and slapped him on the back. Lauren and Curtis got the same treatment.

‘For Christ’s sake,’ Bill grouched, as he took a step towards the elevator. ‘We got everyone in the world eyeballing us here.’

James felt a touch of sadness as he snatched a final glance at Vaughn, heading into the darkness through a revolving door. He might have been a gun smuggler, but Vaughn Little was one of the nicest guys James had ever met.

They had two connecting rooms on the fifth floor of the hotel, each with a pair of double beds. Eugene and Bill already had their old-man stuff spread out in one room: bottles of pills, hip flasks, y-fronts and the most unfashionable trainers known to man with grey socks balled up inside them. The connecting door was wedged open and Eugene turned the TV up loud enough that you could have heard it on Mars.

The kids had checked out the room and were chilling on their beds for a while when Bill wandered through.

‘Can we go and use the pool?’ James asked, desperate to get out of the room and contact the FBI, in case they hadn’t picked up on the change of lodgings.

‘Nah,’ Bill said, scratching his armpit and revealing a glimpse of the holster under his jacket. ‘It’s gone ten o’clock. You boys have been all over the news, so you’re better off staying out of sight. Order food from room service if you’re hungry, then shift yourselves to bed. Eugene’s taking a nap. If he wakes up, tell him I’m down at the bar having a nightcap.’

Within thirty seconds of Bill heading out the door, Curtis dived off the bed and grabbed a can of beer and a bunch of miniature spirit bottles from the fridge.

‘Mini-bar time,’ Curtis grinned, hurling James a little Jack Daniels bottle as he drained his own into his mouth.

James was wary: the last time Curtis got drunk he ended up getting a life sentence. On the other hand, with Eugene asleep, Bill at the bar and Curtis hitting the bottle, he had a golden opportunity to contact Marvin. It was too risky using the phone in the room, because the call would get itemised on the bill, but he’d seen payphones in the lobby downstairs.

‘I know,’ Lauren said excitedly. ‘Why don’t we try and find out where we’re all going tomorrow?’

‘Good idea,’ James said, impressed by how smart his sister could be at times. He’d been so focused on making sure the FBI team knew where they were, he’d forgotten that their main objective was to find out where Curtis was going to meet his mother.

‘Where are you gonna look?’ Curtis asked.

James shrugged, but Lauren dived purposefully into the next room, where Eugene was sleeping soundly, and grabbed a snazzy leather document wallet she’d eyed up earlier.

‘Bet it’s in here,’ Lauren said.

James understood her logic: the smart item was out of style with the elderly men’s other possessions. Someone else had clearly handed it to them.

Lauren unzipped the case on the bed. It contained a brown envelope stashed with a mix of US and Canadian dollars and three fake passports. The first was Brazilian, containing a picture of Curtis under the name Eduardo Santos. There was a computer print-out inside, detailing flights from Boise to Dallas and a connecting flight to Rio de Janeiro.

‘Eduardo Santos,’ Curtis said, in a rubbish attempt at a Spanish accent. ‘Sounds good, hombres?’

He gulped a small bottle of gin as Lauren pulled out the two Canadian passports.

‘Go easy on the booze eh?’ James said, still holding the unopened Jack Daniels in his hand. ‘So where are we going?’

Lauren and James looked set to become Scott and Ellen Parks, of Toronto. James was no expert on forged documents, but the passports looked good to him. Fake identification of this quality would have cost thousands of dollars.

‘OK,’ James said. ‘Put the case where you found it, before Bill gets back.’

Curtis crashed on his bed and ripped open a packet of dry-roasted cashews. James and Lauren walked into the other room together. They made sure Eugene was still asleep before exchanging hurried whispers over the noise from the TV.

‘Keep Curtis busy,’ James said. ‘Start a pillow fight or something. I’ll run out and try to make a quick call.’

‘What if Curtis asks where you are? Or Bill comes back?’

‘We’re kids,’ James shrugged, ‘people expect us to muck about. Just say I’m getting ice, or whatever.’

James opened the door, while Lauren wandered back to join Curtis. He peeked along the corridor, finding nothing except a couple of uncollected room-service trolleys. Their room was at the end of a long corridor near a fire escape. James walked through the fire door and down a single flight of concrete steps to the fourth floor, where there would be no chance of bumping into Bill.

James was planning to use the phones in the lobby, but he spotted an old-fashioned phone with a dial hanging on the wall near the entrance to a cleaner’s closet. It was designed for internal use by hotel staff, but James knew most switchboards are programmed to allow any phone to dial out to an emergency number. He picked up the receiver and dialled 911.

‘Emergency, which service please?’

James smiled with relief. ‘FBI, I have a station number. It’s three-two-four-six and the application code is T.’

Within a second of the operator patching the call through to the FBI, it diverted via an office in Phoenix and on to Marvin Teller’s cellphone.

‘We’re sorry, the mobile number you are dialling is currently busy. Please try again later or leave a message after the beep.’

James cursed under his breath. ‘Marvin, it’s me. I’m at the Star Plaza, room five-three-four. Curtis is on a zero-nine-thirty flight to Dallas on American Airlines. He’s flying on to Rio using a passport in the name of Eduardo Santos …’

James got back to the room without Bill, Eugene or Curtis even noticing that he’d gone. He was almost certain Marvin would have listened to the cellphone message, but it played on James’ mind as he lay in the dark room, with Lauren and Curtis asleep and Eugene’s snores rumbling through the connecting door.

James was half awake at 5:30 a.m. when Bill crept up to Curtis’ bed and shook him awake. The teenager seemed to be suffering the after-effects of his attack on the mini bar as he sat up in bed.

‘I thought the flight was later,’ Curtis moaned, picking at a gluey eye.

‘Keep it down,’ Bill whispered. ‘I just made a scheduled call to your mother. She’s nervous about this whole show. There’s been another change of plan and we don’t want the two brats over there knowing about it.’

‘Mom’s whole life has been a change of plan,’ Curtis sighed. ‘Can’t I say goodbye to James and Lauren?’

‘Let ’em sleep. You know how this works better than anyone: the less they know about when you got out of here and where you went, the better.’

James had a crick in his neck, but didn’t dare move in case the old man realised he was awake.

Curtis swung off his bed and dashed to the bathroom. After bolting the door, James heard him pee, followed by a retching sound as he spewed up in the toilet bowl. James stifled a laugh as Bill wandered over and rapped gently on the locked door.

‘You OK in there, boy?’

There was an array of noises from the bathroom, as Curtis cleaned himself up and gargled mouthwash.

‘Man,’ Curtis gasped, as he exited. ‘Must have been something I ate. I hope I’m not sick again on the plane.’

‘Something you drank, more like,’ Bill grumbled. ‘I can smell it comin’ out your pores.’

Curtis stumbled meekly across the floor and started picking up his belongings.

‘Forget that junk,’ Bill said. ‘Put your pants and sneakers on, then we’re shipping out.’

James racked his brain, wondering if he should follow Bill and Curtis. If Marvin hadn’t got the message, or if they were expecting Curtis to be getting a later flight and were still in bed, they’d permanently lose the trail to Jane Oxford. On the other hand, James would blow his cover if he was caught sneaking around after them.

‘Ready?’ Bill asked, as Curtis wriggled his foot into his trainer and stood up.

‘I guess,’ Curtis said, uncertainly. He stepped across the room towards the other bed and looked at James. ‘Have a nice life, buddy,’ he whispered softly.

Curtis followed Bill through the connecting door and they exited via the other room. James sprang up as soon as the door clunked. He leaned in the next room to make sure Eugene was asleep, before scrambling into tracksuit bottoms and trainers and grabbing a room entry card from the table beside his bed.

He poked his head into the corridor, as Bill and Curtis’ backs disappeared around a corner, heading for the elevators. James raced down the back stairs, planning to catch up with them in the lobby. Unfortunately, there were no guest rooms on the ground floor. James found himself at the back of a conference suite, staring at a blank grey fire door that only opened from the other side.

Anxious not to lose Curtis for good, James broke open the fire door and found himself standing in the hotel car park. The sun was peeking over the horizon and his T-shirt did nothing to ward off the bitter wind sweeping across the open tarmac.

James quickly glanced around, making sure there was nobody in sight, before jogging between the lanes of parked cars towards the hotel entrance. When he got close, he noticed a queue of people stepping on to a small bus with
Star Plaza – Airport Shuttle
written down the side. Curtis and Bill were in the line.

James ducked between two cars. He was desperate to go into the lobby and call the FBI team to make sure they knew what was going on, but he was pinned to the spot until the bus left.

Finally, the last passenger boarded and the hydraulic door hissed shut. As the bus began rolling away, a man thumped desperately against the side. The driver hit the brake sharply to let on a final passenger. He was huge black man, wearing a cowboy hat and a suit the colour of red wine. James smiled with relief. He needn’t have worried: Marvin Teller had got the message.

*

Lauren woke with a fright. She caught half a second’s glance inside the old man’s toothless mouth before her whole world turned black. Eugene smeared a pillow over her face and squeezed down so hard she could feel the mattress springs digging into the back of her head. Lauren arched her back and tried to wriggle free, but Eugene swung his knee across the bed and used it to pin down her thighs.