Trentbridge Tales Box Set

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Trentbridge Tales Box Set Page 55

by Lee Wood

He thinks to himself, What did they use to say on the old ‘A’ team TV show? Oh yes, “I love it when a plan comes together.”

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Chris and Mr Gee walk into the old garage workshop. Kronid is watching TV. Dragos is sitting in the corner with a can of beer.

  As soon as the two men walk in, Dragos tries to put the can down before his boss sees it but in his attempt, he spills it.

  “What have I told you about drinking? I said you need to be sober at all times. You need to stay in control. We’ve got a lot at stake here.”

  “Yes. Sorry, boss. It was only the one. I was a little thirsty, that’s all. It won’t happen again.”

  “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Dragos. You think I’m a fucking idiot?”

  “No, boss. Of course not.”

  No need for him to say anything. Dragos knows he’s in the wrong. The look he gets from Chris says it all.

  “Did the parents pay? Have you got the money?” Kronid asks.

  “There’s been a slight change of plan.”

  Kronid frowns. “What’s going on? I thought you were getting the ransom money today. It was all arranged. You said you called them and they had agreed to pay.”

  “If we had gone to collect the money, the police would have been waiting for us. However, this is something we anticipated and planned for. I warned them not to involve the police. But they have. We know how to get the money but just not in the way the police expect us to. Chris and I have been planning this for months. We know a better and safer way to get the money. This is what we planned from the start.”

  “But I want my money,” Kronid grumbles.

  “And you will get what is coming to you. Every last penny of it. But this way we don’t get caught. I’ve spent months planning this. You’ll get your money and doing it this way you’ll be around to spend it. You have to trust us. We know what we are doing. Two days from now and you’ll be rich – and more importantly, free to spend it. Right. We’re going to make a video of the girls. So don’t make any noise or say anything. The police are not stupid. They have ways of enhancing background noises or voices.”

  “Why are you making a video of the girls?”

  “Because it will show they are still alive and being looked after. The video will make sure they pay the money.”

  Mr Gee holds out his hand to Kronid. “The key please.”

  He hands over the key.

  Chris picks up the tripod and video camera. Mr Gee has a copy of today’s Sun newspaper.

  The men walk in and close the door behind them.

  “Relax, girls. We’re here to make a video. To show people you’re alive and well. I want you to hold up this newspaper and say you’re being looked after.”

  “What’s this all about?” Leona asks.

  “What do you think? Your family is going to pay us a lot of money for your safe return. They want to know you’re being looked after.”

  “How much longer will we be here?”

  “That depends on your family and how quickly they raise the money.”

  “What will happen to us?”

  “If you behave and don’t cause any trouble, once your family has paid the money and we are happy, then we’ll blindfold you, take you to a remote spot and let you go free, and after an hour we’ll call to say where you are.”

  “And what about the smelly one out there, are we safe from him?”

  Chris laughs. “Don’t worry.” He sets up the camera on the tripod. “Kronid, the nice one, has the only key. We want the money not a romp in the hay. You’re safe.”

  “Right, get ready for your video. You never know, after this you’ll be even more famous than you are now.”

  “Face the camera lens and tell them you’re being well looked after.” Mr Gee gestures them into position.

  He holds up a sheet of paper with the words he wants them to say.

  Once happy with the result, Chris turns off the camera.

  “Good girls. Just do as you’re told and don’t cause any trouble and you’ll be out of here before you know it.”

  Chris and Mr Gee walk out of the office. Chris locks the door and gives the key back to Kronid.

  “You’ve done a good job taking care of them. A couple of days at most and you’ll be rich beyond your wildest dreams.”

  “What do you think, Lo? Should we be worried?”

  “It’s difficult to know. The one who looks in charge. The beard is obviously false so he’s wearing a disguise. He probably wouldn’t bother if they were going to kill us.”

  “There you go, babe, looking on the bright side as usual.”

  “What’s the first thing you want after we get out of here, beside a long shower?”

  “Update my Instagram. How about you?”

  “Getting out with my knickers still in place will be enough. I don’t trust Smelly out there. I know the beard said the other guy has the key but things can change.”

  “If he does try anything just pretend to go along with it and then kick his fucking nuts as hard as you can. We’ve always managed to handle it. Don’t worry, babe, I’m sure it will be okay.”

  “Yeah. I’m sure you’re right. Worse things happen at sea, don’t they?”

  “How the fuck would I know what happens at sea? What am I, cabin crew?”

  The two girls manage a laugh.

  Outside in the old workshop, Mr Gee is carefully taking the SD card out of the video camera and placing it into an envelope. It takes him a minute as he has a pair of gloves on. The same ones he was wearing when driving the minibus and he’s worn on each occasion he’s visited the workshop.

  He writes a name on the envelope then rather than lick the flap with his mouth, he runs water from the tap and uses it to stick it down to avoid leaving his DNA.

  With what he has planned for the girls, he wants to make sure he doesn’t get caught.

  Kidnapping is one thing. Murder is another.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Even on a Sunday, Albert Mitten is an early riser. He’s usually out of bed by 5.30. This morning he can’t sleep anyway. The forty-eight-hour deadline passed yesterday and since then the family has heard nothing. From what the family has assumed, both girls are dead. His two beautiful granddaughters.

  He’s been sitting in his conservatory looking out of the window for over an hour when the home phone rings.

  He picks it up on the second ring.

  “Hello.”

  “Mr Mitten. Listen carefully. Take heed of my every word. If you want to see your granddaughters alive, walk down your driveway and find the envelope we’ve attached to your front gates.”

  “Who the hell…? Hello? Hello.”

  Albert does as instructed and returns with the envelope. Inside he finds a mobile phone and an SD card.

  As a reasonably keen photographer, Albert knows what the card is and how to load it onto his computer.

  He clicks on the file and a video with two young girls starts to play.

  One of the girls is holding a copy of The Sun newspaper with yesterday’s date.

  Albert almost jumps for joy.

  He watches Erica talk to the camera.

  “Don’t worry. We are being well looked after. What they said before was just a bluff. They only want the money. They know Mum and Dad brought in the police. Please don’t make the same mistake. You can see the date this video was made from the newspaper. The time we are recording this is ten o’clock in the evening. Follow the instructions they give you and we will be home soon.”

  “Thank God. They’re alive, they are still alive. Oh thank you, God.”

  Albert plays the video a second time. Just to be sure.

  He is about to rush upstairs to tell his wife when the mobile phone from the brown envelope rings.

  “You’ve watched the video?”

  “Yes. Yes, I have. They’re still alive?”

  “Of course they are. All that rubbish about killing one. That was to mislea
d the police. We know your son called them in. Do you think we’re stupid?”

  “Of course not. It’s just what we were advised to do.”

  “Take heed and listen carefully. Do not tell anyone. I mean anyone. Otherwise the girls won’t be coming home. If you try to cross us, we will kill them. Do you understand?”

  “Yes. I understand. We won’t involve the police.”

  “We want one million. That’s the price for you getting back these two lovely girls. One million pounds in used notes in return for the girls. You put the money into four suitcases. You place two hundred and fifty thousand in each suitcase. Is that clear?”

  “Yes. I can do that. I’ve got 300,000 in savings I can access. I have an idea how to get the rest. I need to make a phone call then I will know I can get it.”

  “Good. I will call again tonight. You have seen we are not amateurs so don’t underestimate us. Otherwise I promise you they will both die. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, believe me all we want are the girls back home safe. No police, you have my word.”

  “Your word is worthless, from what I know. Cross us and they will die. That’s my promise, and believe me; I keep them far better than you do.”

  “Okay I’ll… Hello? Hello?”

  Silence.

  Borrowing the rest in such a short space of time from a bank or a lender would be impossible.

  But Albert knows someone who might be able to help.

  He gets out his address book and looks for the number.

  He finds it. Harry Richardson.

  One five-minute phone call is all it takes.

  Harry does not ask what Albert needs the money for. His only questions are how much and when does he need it.

  “I need £700,000, in cash, by tomorrow morning.” Albert holds his breath.

  “Not a problem, Albert. Untraceable used £10 and £20 notes?”

  “You mean it? You can do that?”

  “If you want you can have it in a couple of hours.”

  “Tomorrow morning is perfect. You really are sure you can do this?”

  “Albert. How long have we known each other? Now stop worrying. I’ll see you tomorrow morning at nine.”

  What they have agreed is not a loan. Over the past few years, Harry has made numerous offers to purchase the property on Tennis Court Road. Until now his offers have always been rejected.

  In his previous offers, Harry said if Albert was interested, they could do a deal where half of the money went through the books and the other half could be paid in cash. The site is worth two million.

  So Albert is fairly sure coming up with the cash won’t be a problem for Harry.

  It is worth far more than the £700,000 but Albert isn’t in a position to haggle. They agree he will sell the site to Harry.

  At 7pm, Albert’s house phone line rings.

  “Hello. Albert Mitten.”

  “Have you arranged the money?”

  “Yes. I will have it all by noon tomorrow. The whole lot, one million in used untraceable notes as agreed.”

  “Good for you. I will call tomorrow. Make sure you have it and no police and no tricks. If you try something funny and any of us are caught or we even suspect the police are involved, money or not, the girls will die. Do I make myself clear?

  “Yes. Yes, perfectly. I promise no police or tricks. The girls are the most important thing to us. We won’t try anything.”

  Everything is going exactly to plan. Mr Gee never intended to get the money from the parents. He was sure they would call in the police. It’s what most people would do.

  He knows grandparents will do anything for their grandkids. And Chris loves the idea of the money coming from Albert rather than Francis. It seems more apt. He loves Mr Gee’s masterplan.

  If it were up to Chris, getting the cash would be the end of it but his partner has other ideas. Mr Gee has already worked out the plot of the video he’s going to send to the parents. First, the camera will zoom in on the petrol can. Then it will move across to the girls lying tied up and helpless. Mr Gee wants to do the honours himself, which is fine by Chris. He thinks it’s a shame about the girls but they can’t leave any witnesses.

  Dragos is in on the plan. He doesn’t care as long as he gets some time with the girls before all this happens. Kronid knows nothing about all of this but that’s not going to be a problem.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Harry Richardson enjoys his life. Over the past twenty-four years, he has built up a large property empire.

  He grew up on a local council estate. A tall boy and well built. It got him into a lot of fights for which he had a reputation of coming off best. He left school at fourteen to go into the building trade, starting as an apprentice bricklayer.

  Six years later he was involved in an accident on a building site and received £7,000 in compensation. The money bought a run-down property and he used his skills to make improvements.

  He almost doubled his money and that got him hooked. From there he built up a portfolio of houses and commercial property.

  Although his education at school was cut short, he taught himself about money and when the building trade went into recession and many of his competitors were forced to sell at rock bottom prices, Harry had been clever and was in a strong position to take advantage.

  He won several lucrative contracts with the local council. There were rumours he paid backhanders to several members of the planning committee but nothing has ever been proven.

  Anyone who gets in his way finds out he is not a man to be crossed. One person who tried found himself hanging upside down over the edge of a six-storey building only held up by Harry’s hand around his ankle.

  Whispers around the trade said the man got off lightly. There was talk of people who crossed him and were never heard from again.

  And over the years it seems one or two local planning council members have retired to luxury villas in Spain and Portugal well above their pay grade, telling everyone they had been left money by a rich elderly relative.

  When Harry received the call from his old friend Albert Mitten who was desperate to get his hands on £700,000 in cash within twenty-four hours, it seemed like a prayer had been answered.

  He has been pestering Albert to sell him the site on Tennis Court Road for years.

  Harry already owns the site next door and is anxious to buy the old car workshop for a number of reasons.

  In his younger days when he was an angry young man, he made a few enemies. One of the people on the planning committee was being questioned by the police who were looking into council corruption charges.

  A police officer was asking questions and starting to find answers. So Harry followed the detective and found out the identity of the person talking to the police. They met in the disused building. Harry waited until the detective had gone. The surprise and fear on the informants face as Harry throttled him, was a memory that brings a smile to his face whenever he reflects.

  Unfortunately, the police officer returned to retrieve the pair of gloves he had left behind. An iron bar made sure he never finished his investigation and eventually the matter was closed.

  Harry went back later that evening with a man he knew he could trust, Kevin O’Connor. Together they buried the bodies six feet deep.

  That was more than eight years ago and after a period of reflection; Harry decided his best plan would be to buy the site from Albert Mitten. But until now Albert had always refused to sell.

  So tomorrow Harry will give Albert £700,000 on the promise he will finally sell.

  From the outside, Harry looks like a completely respectable forty-eight-year-old successful businessman who wouldn’t hurt a fly.

  But Albert is aware Harry Richardson is not a man you want to cross.

  Chapter Fifty

  Daniel doesn’t have to work on Sundays so he’s spent the entire day at the old telephone exchange watching with his powerful binoculars and listening to everything, thanks to the
device he stuck to the outside of the window.

  The two men holding the twins are arguing again. Dragos has come back drunk and Kronid is trying to calm him down because he wants to, as he puts it, try his luck with the girls.

  Daniel can see trouble is brewing.

  “The boss doesn’t want us to touch the girls. If anything happens to them he might not pay us.”

  “Then I’ll kill him and take all the money.”

  Kronid opens the door leading to the rear yard.

  “Go and sober up, Dragos, before you cause real trouble.”

  As Dragos walks towards the door, he swings his fist at Kronid who steps back outside the factory.

  He staggers and starts to come at Kronid, but Kronid is faster and lands a punch right on his drunk opponent’s nose and he falls backwards, only saved from going down by the passenger door of the white Mercedes. He wipes the back of his hand across his nose and brushes away the blood.

  “You bastard. I’ll get you.”

  It seems Dragos hasn’t learnt anything and swings his fist again. Kronid easily side-steps the attempt and in return lands a blow to the left side of his opponent’s head sending him sideways and sprawled across the bonnet of the Merc.

  Suddenly the gateway to the side opens and the man who calls himself ‘Mr Gee’ walks in.

  “What the fuck’s going on here?”

  Kronid steps back. “Dragos wants to ‘entertain’ the girls. He thinks they will succumb to his charms. I told him many times you did not want them to be touched but he won’t listen.”

  “Okay, you two. Listen carefully. I’ve come to tell you we are getting the money tomorrow.”

  “We’ll meet here at five o’clock and make the split.

  “What happens to the girls?” Kronid asks.

  “Once we’ve split the money, Chris and I will take the girls to a remote place and leave them tied up. Then we’ll wait an hour and phone their parents so they can collect them. So everyone’s happy.”

 

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