by P. F. Ford
‘That would take time,’ said Slater, ‘and the chances are it would only prove they were made of the same material and maybe made in the same workshop. That won’t really help much.’
‘Couldn’t we just take the key down there and ask if it fits?’
‘That would be good, but you can’t just roll up with a key and ask if you can try all the locks to see if it fits. Anyway, they have security at these places,’ he said. ‘You’d have to have the correct ID to get in, and we have no idea what that is.’
Norman picked up Jane’s key and held it up in front of them. ‘You’re forgetting – this is Jane’s key,’ he said, with a wide grin. ‘She has the correct ID. She could get us in.’
Slater was grinning too now. ‘Now we’re cooking! If one of us could get in there, we can take that key and see if it fits storage unit twenty-two.’
‘They will almost certainly have CCTV monitoring the inside,’ said Watson. ‘Didn’t you just tell me they’ll find it a bit strange if they see someone trying a key in a unit they don’t own?’
‘That’s a good point,’ conceded Slater.
‘Hang on a minute,’ said Norman. ‘Jane’s just signed up with them. They must have shown her the security setup. Why don’t I get her to come down here and tell us about it, and then maybe we can come up with a plan.’
Chapter Eighteen
The transit van turned off the road and rolled to a halt at the barrier across the entrance to the storage centre. The driver, a rather rotund figure, rolled down his window and gave a cheery wave to the security guard gazing at him from the window of the small gatehouse.
Inside the gatehouse, Andy Judd, the security guard in question, gazed at the newcomers with the weary indifference of a man bored to tears working mind-numbingly dull twelve-hour shifts. Raising a smile was out of the question, and he failed to manage so much as a grimace. He certainly had no intention of going out into the cold to speak to them, so if one of them wasn’t prepared to get out and walk across to him, they could sit out there all day for all he cared.
‘Now that’s a nice cheery welcome,’ muttered Norman to his two passengers.
‘Yeah,’ agreed Slater, looking past Norman at the guard in the cubicle. He was sitting in the centre seat of the cab with Jane Jolly in the passenger seat, ‘That sort of greeting really makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside, doesn’t it?’
She tapped his arm. ‘You two stay here and let me handle this,’ she said. ‘We don’t need anyone falling out with the man.’
‘I just think it wouldn’t hurt him to show some manners, that’s all,’ said Norman. ‘And what does a smile cost?’
‘We can worry about his lack of manners another time. Just remember we agreed on a plan, but it will only work if you two stick to it.’
‘Yeah, you’re right,’ said Slater. ‘Sorry, Jane.’
She opened the door, slid from her seat, walked confidently across to the gatehouse, opened the door, and marched up to the counter.
‘My name’s Jane Jolly,’ she said, with a sweet smile. ‘I’m a new customer. You should be expecting me.’
The man scowled at her, and then looked down at the printed list in front of him.
‘What was the name again?’
‘Jolly, Mrs.’
‘What time did you say?’
‘I didn’t,’ she said, shortly. ‘But I called your office this morning to book an appointment. I said I would be here at two fifteen.’ Very slowly and deliberately, she turned to look at the large clock on the wall. ‘And here I am, right on time.’
The man took his time going down the list in front of him, but eventually he found her name and reluctantly ticked the box next to it. ‘What about the geezers in the van?’ he asked.
‘I have two men to carry the boxes for me, as I said I would.’
The man looked at his list again. ‘Oh yeah, you’re right. It says so in the notes. You need to drive through the gate and go to the security office at the front of the building. They’ll check your ID and everything, and as long as you’re who you say you are, they’ll let you into the building.’ Having delivered his instructions, the guard turned his attention back to the newspaper he had been trying to read before he had been interrupted.
By now, Jane was as irritated by the gateman’s surly attitude as Norman and Slater were, but she was disciplined enough to resist the urge to tell him what she thought and made her way back to the van. As she climbed into the passenger seat, the barrier rose slowly into the air, and Norman drove through and headed towards the main building.
As the transit van moved off, a car turned into the space that had just been vacated before the barrier. The security guard looked up and sighed. What was up with all these people today? Why couldn’t they leave him in peace to read his newspaper?
He watched as a young woman pushed her car door closed – with some difficulty as she was also trying to manoeuvre around a walking stick – and approached the gatehouse. At least now he could raise a little more enthusiasm. This one was a bit younger, and he had no effort raising a smile for her. He hoped, as she was unaccompanied, she might be a bit more amenable, although he was a little troubled by the clipboard she was carrying under her left arm.
‘Yes, love, what can I do for you?’ he asked, flashing her his best smile as she walked through the door.
Completely expressionless, she marched up to the counter and flashed her warrant card under his nose, just long enough for him to see what it was, but not long enough for him to read the details.
‘DS Brearley, Hampshire Constabulary,’ she said, coolly, confident he was no speed reader. ‘I’m here to carry out a check of your security systems.’
‘Eh?’
‘Well, that’s not a very good start, is it?’ she said, producing a pen and making a mark on the clipboard. ‘That’s one black mark already, and I’ve barely started.’
‘Black mark? What d’you mean a black mark?’
‘You should have known I was coming.’
The puzzled security guard was scanning his list. He couldn’t see any mention of a visit from the police. ‘But you’re not on my list,’ he pleaded.
‘That’s another black mark, then,’ she said, and scored another ‘X’ on her board. ‘What was the point in me phoning to make an appointment this morning if it’s not going to be relayed to the man on the gate? I could be anyone pretending to be a police officer.’
‘But that’s not my fault,’ he whined. ‘It’s that stupid young girl in the office. If she wasn’t so busy doing her nails and watching pathetic videos on the internet, these stupid mistakes wouldn’t keep happening.’
‘Happens a lot, does it?’ asked Watson, scrawling yet another ‘X’ on her clipboard. ‘Oh dear me, that’s three Xs on the board and not a single tick so far. It’s not looking too good, is it? I had an entire security team fired at one of these places the other week, and they only had one bad mark at this stage. I’d polish up my interview skills if I were you, you might be needing them by the time I’ve finished.’
‘Hey, now hang on a minute,’ said a horrified Andy Judd. ‘You can’t get me the sack just because someone else doesn’t do their job! That’s not fair, is it?’
‘What’s your name?’ asked Watson.
‘Andy, Andy Judd.’
Watson made a note on her clipboard. ‘Okay, Andy, here’s what I’m going to do,’ she said. ‘As you’ve been so quick to look out for yourself and point the finger of blame at everyone else, I’m going to make a special recommendation about you to make sure everyone knows just what sort of team member you really are.’
‘Really?’ said Andy, relaxing. ‘You’ll do that for me?’
‘Oh yes, it’ll be a pleasure,’ she assured him. ‘I’ll make sure everyone knows exactly what you’re like.’
Andy looked immensely pleased with himself. He was going to get a recommendation. He was special. That’d show those other tossers he worked with.
&nb
sp; ‘Now, could you be a love and open the gate for me?’ asked Watson.
‘What? Oh yeah, it’s my pleasure.’
Watson left the beaming Andy and made her way back to her car. She was hoping the security here was going to be average at best, and if he was anything to go by, she was going to be proved right. Whatever happened, she had decided she would certainly make sure the rest of the team knew what a great team player they had on the front gate.
***
Up at the main building, Jane had checked in at the security room and was heading back to the van. They had to drive around to the back of the building and back their van up to entrance B, which gave access to units twenty–forty. This was a real stroke of luck; they hadn’t realised both the units they wanted to access would be so close to each other.
She had noted the large bank of screens on one wall, each one displaying the view from the various CCTV cameras dotted in and around the building. It looked as though there were probably two watching over each corridor, but if Watson did her job properly, that shouldn’t be a major problem. As she left the security room, she glanced down towards the main gate. The barrier was just reaching the top of its journey, and Watson’s car could be seen coming through.
‘So far, so good,’ she said to Slater and Norman as she pulled the door open and got back into the van. ‘Watson’s got past the gate, and she’s on her way up here right now.’
‘Where do we go?’ asked Norman, as he fired up the engine.
‘Round to the left. Then down to the end of the building and turn right. Entrance B will be the second one we come to.’
‘Okay everybody, here we go,’ said Norman.
As he pulled away, Watson slipped neatly into the space he had vacated.
***
Norman followed Jane’s directions and reversed up to a van-sized door marked with a large ‘B’. As he pulled up and they climbed from the van, the door rolled upwards to reveal a short passageway to yet another door. Jane walked down to the end of the passageway and pushed the door. Beyond, there was a wider corridor with numbered doors set at regular intervals on either side, starting with twenty-one on the left and ending with thirty-nine on the right. She made a quick note of the two CCTV cameras, and then went back to the van.
‘We’re in luck,’ she said. ‘Numbers thirty-eight and twenty-two are right opposite each other.’
‘What about CCTV?’ asked Norman.
‘As we thought, they’re in opposite corners, far left and near right.’
‘Let’s stick to the plan,’ said Slater. ‘Watson will be expecting us to unload this stuff first, and take it to room thirty-eight. We’ll try room twenty-two once we’re done.’
‘Let’s just hope she can distract the guy long enough,’ said Norman.
‘She’ll be fine,’ said Slater. ‘She can always revert to being a real police officer if she has to. The chances are he won’t know she can’t just go anywhere she pleases without a search warrant.’
They quickly unloaded the dozen boxes Jane had packed full of her husband’s belongings and began carrying them down to room thirty-eight. Jolly slid the key in the lock, and with a nice smooth twist, the door opened.
‘Nice and easy,’ said Norman. ‘If number twenty-two’s like that, it’ll be a breeze.’
‘If that’s even what the key’s for,’ said Slater.
‘Have faith,’ said Norman. ‘It’s all cool. We’ll be fine.’
***
Back in the security room, the guard responsible for watching the screens was trying to keep an eye on the three people heading for room thirty-eight and also deal with the surprise arrival of the seemingly uber-efficient DS Brearley, who had apparently arrived to carry out an inspection. He wondered why that idiot Andy Judd hadn’t given him a call from the gate to warn him and made a mental note to have words if he ever managed to get rid of the woman. And, thinking about it, why hadn’t the office warned them all, if, as she insisted, she had called this morning to make an appointment?
Looking over the guard’s shoulder at the screens, Watson could see Slater and Norman loading boxes into room thirty-eight. Jolly seemed to be watching their every move, but was gradually edging across towards door number twenty-two.
‘Right,’ she said. ‘First I need to go through this checklist, then we’ll go into a bit more detail. Before I start, I have to tell you – your friend down on the front gate didn’t exactly cover himself in glory, and as a company you have yet to score a single positive point. Is there any particular reason why you think he was quite so unprepared for my visit?’
‘Why don’t you ask him?’ said the guard. ‘I don’t know what the hell he’s doing up here, but he’s just about to come through the do—’
There was just the slightest noise of a door opening behind her, but it was the sudden look of alarm on the face of the man stood opposite her that told Watson she was in trouble. Before she had time to react, someone crashed into her back and suddenly she was on the floor in a tangle of arms and legs with Andy Judd, her stick flying across the room. At first, she thought he had attacked her, but then she became aware two other figures had come through the doorway. Andy had obviously been shoved into her.
‘Right, let’s all stay calm,’ said a voice. ‘There’s no need for anyone to get hurt.’
Watson shook herself and looked up at the two figures, and as she did, her blood seemed to run cold and her mind was flooded with memories of pain and the smell of her own blood and being rushed to hospital. Both the men were armed with pistols.
‘Get up off the floor, you two,’ said the man who appeared to be in charge. ‘And no funny stuff. Like I said, I don’t want to hurt anyone. If you all do as you’re told, you’ll be home in time for tea, with no damage done. Understand?’
Andy climbed gingerly to his feet, gave Watson his hand, and helped her up. She caught his eye, but the blank look she got in return showed her he was terrified. She understood. There was no point in arguing with a man holding a gun. At least, not right now. It would be much better to play along and see if an opportunity presented itself.
Once they were all on their feet, Watson noticed the two guards were looking at her. Of course, she was the police officer. They expected her to know what to do.
‘Just do as he says,’ she said, ‘and there’s no reason why he should shoot anyone.’
‘Clever girl,’ said the leader, and then peered at her suspiciously. ‘How come you’re the only hero in the room? What are you, a copper?’
She said nothing.
‘Search her pockets, Denny.’
The second man came over, the gun pointing straight at her, but now just inches from her heart. He slipped a hand into first one pocket, and then the other, pulling her warrant card from her pocket.
‘DS Brearley,’ he read.
He showed it to his boss, who took a quick glance but quickly dismissed it. ‘Never mind about that,’ he said. ‘It doesn’t matter who, or what, she is. She can’t do us any harm on her own. Come on. Let’s get going.’
He addressed the three captives. ‘Right, we’re all going for a little walk. You three are going to form a line and put you left hand on the shoulder of the person in front. If you drop that hand, I’ll shoot you in the back, and make no mistake, I mean it. Is that clear?’ He didn’t wait for a response. ‘Right, follow Denny here, keep five yards behind him, and behave yourselves.’
Denny led the way out of the room, making it quite clear he was watching them as well as where he was going. The boss kept behind them, constantly moving from side to side and watching the three prisoners like a hawk.
***
Down at the other end of the building, Jane had slipped across to the door of room twenty-two and placed the key in the lock. It wasn’t quite as smooth as her own, but it turned easily enough.
‘I’m in,’ she hissed and pulled the door ajar and slipped inside. There was a solitary table in the centre of the small storage room, and on to
p lay a small attaché case. As she took it all in, Norman and Slater slipped into the room with her.
‘Shall we open it?’ she asked.
‘It’ll be quicker to just take it and go,’ said Slater.
‘Yeah,’ agreed Norman. ‘There’s nothing else in here, so either this is what we’re looking for or we’ve wasted our time. Either way, we need to get out of here before we get spotted on the CCTV.’
Slater grabbed the case and made for the door. He pushed it open slowly and carefully peered around the corner. Then he felt his guts turn to icy water as he experienced something he’d felt once before – and had hoped he’d never have to face again. He was looking down the barrel of a pistol.
‘I think this is where I’m supposed to say hands up, isn’t it?’ said the man holding the gun, with a menacing, icy smile. He waved the gun at Slater. ‘Go on, back up, back inside that room.’
Slater stepped carefully and slowly back into the room, the barrel of Scanlon’s pistol never more than a foot from his face.
‘Stevie Scanlon!’ exclaimed Norman as they came into the room.
In Slater’s mind, several pennies seemed to drop into place. Of course – Bradshaw had told them Scanlon had set them up to find the diamonds; he’d just forgotten to mention the man would be following their progress all the time.
‘Do you know me?’ asked Scanlon, looking suspiciously at Norman.
‘We’ve never met, but I know you by reputation.’
‘Yes, I think I’d remember if I met you. Good, is it, my reputation?’
‘That would depend on what you call good.’
‘In my world, a good reputation means people are scared of me, and if you aren’t scared, you should be!’
‘Yeah, right. I’ll try to remember that,’ said Norman, almost casually.
‘You’ve got a big mouth for a guy who’s unarmed,’ said Scanlon. ‘And you really ought to have a little more respect for the gun, don’t you think?’ He studied Norman’s face for a moment. ‘You’re Norman, aren’t you? I was told you were a big fat bugger.’ Then he noticed Jane, and his voice was briefly filled with false concern. ‘Oh, excuse my language, I didn’t notice we had a lady present. Are you all right, love?’
