Designer Crime

by Allen Whitehead

  * * *

  Chapter 9 September

  Liz yawned and stretched sleepily, but was then immediately wide awake. She glanced at the alarm clock and reached over to switch it off before it rang. It was just before five o'clock. In the room adjacent, Steven's alarm clock sounded and immediately a radio was switched on. She heard the thump of his feet on the floorboards as he jumped out of bed and headed for the bathroom. This was normal in the Anderson household.

  From a very early age, Steven had been a good and strong swimmer. He had represented first his school and then Edinburgh and the Lothians in several competitions. His potential had also been recognized by senior coaching staff on the lookout for athletes who could possibly develop to represent Scotland. So five days a week, Liz and Steven got up at five, leaving the house by half past, for the short drive to the Royal Commonweath Pool which opened for training at six o'clock. Steven trained for an hour and a half before changing and leaving the pool, around a quarter past eight, for Boroughmuir High School.

  'I've got to leave just after I drop you off, today, love,' Liz said. 'I've got to get to Falkirk this morning to meet a client, and you know how busy the M8 is during rush hour.'

  'That's okay, Mum,' he smiled. 'There's lots of buses into town down the Bridges. I'll just walk along to Newington Road and pick one up there.'

  'Thanks, love, have a good session – I'll see you tonight.'

  She turned left into Newington Road, then right into East Preston Street, pulling up in front of the “Commie”, an Olympic size swimming pool, designed in the 1960's by Robert Matthew Johnson Marshall and which had opened in time for the 1970 Commonwealth Games. Steven leaned across and kissed her lightly on the cheek. She ruffled his short brown hair, smiling as he grimaced before jumping out on to the pavement.

  Giving him a quick wave, Liz set off immediately, demanding and getting sprightly performance out of the Fiat 500's tiny engine. She drove to the end of Salisbury Road but, instead of heading west towards Falkirk, she turned south towards the City By-pass.

  The ring road was nose-to-tail traffic, even though it was only just after seven o'clock, but that didn't concern Liz who drove below it and on to Straiton, where she turned into the IKEA car park. Although it was almost empty, she chose a parking bay remote from the superstore and settled down to wait. Half and hour later, she saw George Henderson arrive and gave him a wave as he drew near.

  * * *

  A little while later, in the city, the tall white van moved out of the yard and headed for the entrance. The driver nodded to the guard in the kiosk who pressed a button to open the gate. It slid open silently and the van headed down the cobbled street. A dark grey Volkswagen Golf, that had been parked at the roadside, pulled out in front of the van as it approached. It was driven by Fraser.

  'I've just moved out, get ready,' he snapped into a hand-held mobile phone.

  At the end of the street he stopped, indicating his intention to turn right, waiting for a gap in the traffic. When an elderly driver flashed his headlights, he moved out quickly and was closely followed by the white van, pushing its way into the long line of traffic. Although rush-hour had passed, Salamander Street was still very congested and, as he approached the traffic lights at the next cross roads, Fraser slowed down allowing them to turn red.

  'We're at the lights – about to turn left.'

  When the lights changed, the Golf turned the corner heading towards Leith Walk, followed by the white van. A little further along the street, a small red Peugeot moved out from a side street, pushing in immediately behind the van. The Peugeot, which was showing 'L' plates, was being driven by Julia accompanied by Samantha.

  'In position,' said Sam into a mobile phone. 'Well done, Jules! For a minute, I thought the guy in the Audi wasn't going to let you in.'

  'Yeah, he is a bit aggressive,' Julia smiled grimly, clutching the steering wheel tightly. 'but he obviously decided that he didn't want to dent his car.'

  Beside her, Sam patted her noticeable “bump”. As a small woman with short legs, she had her seat pushed well forward and her six months pregnancy was emphasised by the seatbelt over and under the baby.

  The three vehicles moved together along Constitution Street, and Fraser slowed again as he approached the next street, where a large elderly motor-home had pulled up to the junction ahead of him. He flashed his lights at it, allowing the driver to join the line of traffic in front of him, and then he immediately turned left into the street that it had come out of.

  'Right, all in place – time to go,' Fraser said, excitement in his voice.

  He drove along the street and did a quick three point turn, returning to the junction and rejoining the traffic queue in Constitution Street, where he could observe the cars ahead of him from a distance. There was a line of parked cars on the nearside of the road which forced all traffic heading towards the city centre to move out from the kerbside. Up ahead, the set of lights at the foot of Leith Walk were at red and the line of vehicles came to a standstill. When the lights changed, the cars moved off, but the motor-home didn't. A couple of minutes passed, then the driver switched on hazard lights, got down from his seat and opened the bonnet. A woman got out of the passenger seat, walked around in front of the vehicle and climbed up into the drivers seat. She began to repeatedly turn on the ignition, while the man tinkered under the bonnet, but the engine showed little sign of life.

  'Oh, shit!' said the driver of the white Forth Security Services van to his passenger, 'the old fart in the campervan's broken down. It wouldn't be so bad if he wasn't taking up half the road.'

  'Can't you pull back? You should be able to squeeze round him.'

  'There's a bloody little red car right up my arse. I can't go back. Go round and ask him if he can back up a bit, will you?'

  The security guard got out of the van and walked towards the Peugeot. He tapped on the window and Julia wound it down, looking up at him with a worried expression on her face.

  'We can't pull out past the campervan. Can you move back a bit?' he said.

  Julia looked scared and bit her lip. 'I … I'm not so good at reversing. I ... I don't want to hit the guy behind.'

  'Oh come on. You've got stacks of bloody room! Move back. I'll watch you.'

  ' I can't … I'll hit him!'

  'You won't. For Christ's sake. Just move it a bit, can't you!'

  Julia's lip trembled and she burst into tears. Sam was furious. She got out of the car and stormed towards the man, stopping in front of him, and shaking her fist up in his face.

  'You bloody bully! Leave her alone. She's only just learning how to drive. You must have been a learner once … If she hit the Audi, who'd pay for the damage? You wouldn't – would you? … The old guy'll probably get his camper started in a minute. Just leave her alone, you impatient bugger!'

  * * *

  While that was happening, another tall white van was speeding along George Street. It came to a stop in front of Carlo's Casino. Neil and Joe got out of the cab, pulling down the visors on their helmets. They strode to the back of the van and Joe rapped three times on rear door. It was opened by Paul who handed a large grey box to Neil. Leaving Paul in the van, Joe and Neil walked up the steps to the door of the casino and rang the bell. The door was opened by Ross Shaw, who stepped back holding it open for them. Jonny McLean, the second of the casino's doormen, was lounging on a leather sofa, concentrating on the screen of his mobile phone. Joe walked quickly over to him, pulling out a leather covered cosh from a pocket in his overalls.

  Jonny looked up, startled by his approach. 'What's up wi' ... ' he began.

  Joe hit him quickly below the ear and, with a grunt, the big man slumped sideways. Neil had put the box on the floor and drawn one of the replica guns from a shoulder holster under his overalls.

  'Where's Carlo?' he growled at Ross, holding the gun two-handed and pointing it at his face.

  'Uh ... he's er … in the back office.'

  Joe had quickly check
ed that the unconscious Jonny was still breathing, then he pulled his hands behind his back and bound them with a large plastic cable tie. He ripped a length of duct tape and wrapped it round his head and over his mouth.

  'Lead the way. Any funny moves – I'll kneecap you,' Neil snarled.

  Shaw led them through a heavy pair of double doors into the large gaming hall and between the tables to the door of Carlo's office at the back. There was a large mirror on the wall beside the door that provided Carlo with a one-way view into the casino at night, when the lights were brighter in the hall than in his office. It was covered by a blind during the daytime, however, and Carlo was absorbed by the screen of his laptop.

  He looked up, startled, as Shaw, pushed roughly by Joe, burst into the room. 'What the fuck ... ?'

  'Shut up and open the safe,' shouted Neil pointing the gun at Carlo.

  The small man looked surprised but remained calm. 'Where's Jonny, Ross?'

  'They knocked him out ... he's still out front.'

  'Open the safe,' shouted Neil again.

  'You haven't got a silencer on that. They're not gonna risk firing, Ross. It'd make too much noise ... do your fucking job, man!'

  The big young man suddenly gritted his teeth and rushed at Neil, his fists flailing, aiming blows at his body as his head was protected by the helmet. Neil took a step backwards and tried to protect himself from the attack. Joe moved fast across the room and tripped Shaw with a fast sweeping kick against the side of his shin. The big man gasped and fell to the floor. Rolling sideways, he quickly got to his feet and charged, head down, at Joe. This time Joe moved lightly to the left and smashed his elbow into the side of Shaw's head. He fell, pole-axed, with a groan.

  Neil ran over to him and rolled him over on to his face. He jerked Shaw's hands behind his back, whipped out a cable tie and pulled it tight around the man's wrists, and then another around his ankles. He picked up the gun that he'd dropped. Just over two minutes had passed.

  'I'll count to ten and if the safe isn't open we're gonna start hurting you,' snapped Neil angrily at Gratz. 'One, two, three, four ... '

  Carlo suddenly jumped up, knocking his chair over, and hurled himself at Joe. He was ready for him, however, and instead of moving back, Joe slid forward, blocking a swinging arm, and punched him hard and straight in the solar plexus, followed by a chopping blow to the base of his skull. The little man crumpled to the floor, mouthing like a fish out of water – dazed and retching. Joe took out the cosh and lifted it high.

  'Okay,' Carlo gasped, 'I'll do it ... but you won't get away with this ... You fuckers don't know who you're messing with!'

  'Do it!'

  Carlo opened the door to a cupboard. Inside there was a large traditional steel safe on the floor. He turned the combination dial, pushed down the lever handle and pulled open the heavy door. He took out a package wrapped in dark plastic and handed it to Neil, while Joe stood over him brandishing the cosh.

  'This's it – the weeks takings for the bank.'

  'Yeah, and the rest.'

  'What do you mean?'

  'You have to keep a float – think we're thick? Give us the rest of the bloody cash as well, or we'll just help ourselves to everything you've got in the safe.'

  'Okay, okay,' Carlo growled, gathering up more packages.

  Neil snatched them from him and tossed them into the open box. 'Now – on the floor – face down.'

  'But ...'

  Joe raised the cosh again and the small man lay down on the floor, glowering. After binding him like the two doormen and pasting tape over his mouth, Joe and Neil hurried back through the building. Jonny was still slumped across the leather sofa, but he looked up as they came towards him. Joe put down his end of the box and Jonny flinched, wide eyed, when he took out a pair of wire cutters.

  His protests were muffled by the tape over his mouth.

  'Go and help your mates,' Joe said quietly, cutting through the cable tie. 'Don't even think of coming after us.'

  He brandished the cosh to emphasise the point and Jonny nodded, rubbing the livid marks on his wrists where the cable tie had cut into the flesh. They quickly carried the box down the steps to the back of the white van, and knocked a pre-arranged signal on the door. Paul opened it, dragged the container in and quickly slammed the door shut, while Joe and Neil hurried to the cab and drove off. In all, less than five minutes had elapsed since Fraser had said “Time to go”, and their van sped out of George Street and turned down on to Queen Street.

  'All clear,' said Neil into a mobile phone.

  In Constitution Street, Liz leaned out of the window of the motor-home.

  'That's it, Pete!' she shouted loudly. 'I think it'll start this time.'

  George Henderson looked around the bonnet. 'Yes, love ... you can try it now.'

  The engine suddenly sparked to life. He dropped the bonnet down, walked unhurriedly round to the passenger door and climbed in.

  'About bloody time,' snarled the Forth Security Services driver. 'Carlo will think we've forgotten him.'

  The traffic lights, further down the street, turned to green as they approached and, at the junction, Liz turned left and headed towards Leith Links, slowing only behind a bus that was picking up passengers.

  * * *

  Fraser picked up a cappuccino and a muffin and carried them upstairs, where he could sit close to the window overlooking George Street. He was still buzzing from the excitement of the last twenty minutes.

  As he watched, a Forth Security Services van pulled up outside the casino. The two men from the cab rang the doorbell and Carlo opened the door. He had Ross Shaw beside him. They all went inside and Fraser checked his wristwatch. Only a few minutes elapsed, however, before the door was opened again by Carlo. He shrugged and affected a wry smile. The FSS security guards nodded and, turning, walked back to their van to drive off.

  Fraser picked up his phone. 'Sam and Dave called to pick up the goods but went away empty-handed. I'm going to stick around for a while to see if Jack reports a loss and the cavalry arrive.'

  * * *

  Liz drove the motor-home in a wide circuit, eventually heading down through Edinburgh's Grassmarket and Morrison Street. She turned left into a small street off Gorgie Road, where she parked close to a large garage that George had leased, and they waited for the arrival of Paul, Joe and Neil.

  A young Asian woman was unloading her baby and some shopping from the back of her car so, when the van arrived, Joe drove straight past them without stopping, only to return a few minutes later when the street was empty and George had opened up the garage doors. He steered the white van straight into the garage and George and Liz slammed the doors shut behind it. Inside was a grimy space, with a long workbench along the back wall and shelving containing a few ancient tools and blackened containers of oils and grease. It smelled of musty dampness and spillages of diesel and petrol. A single fluorescent tube covered with dust was suspended from the roof, lighting the area.

  'That all seemed to go well,' said Liz, her eyes sparkling. 'Did you have any problems with Carlo and his heavies?'

  'Just a little,' Neil said meekly, 'but Joe was terrific. They started to fight back, but he managed to deal with them – no bother.'

  'Right,' snapped Paul, taking off his overalls. 'We'll get together and have a chat to review it all later, but right now we should get moving. Leave everything here, change into fresh clothes, and let's go our separate ways.'

  'Paul's right,' said George. 'The van's going to stay in here until next week, when I take it back. It's rented for a week and I'm going to change the plates and remove the Forth Security signage this evening. Then I'll give it a thorough clean out. The overalls, helmets and other stuff can be left in it as well, and I'll make sure that it all gets destroyed.'

  'How long have you got the garage rented for?' asked Neil.

  'Six months at the moment. I told them I needed it for maintenance and renovation of the motor-home. I do as well. I'm planning to ove
rhaul the interior and electrics, and re-spray it before Mary and me get it on the road again next spring.'

  * * *

  'Frank, it's Carlo.' He was phoning from his office.

  'Hi Carlo, how's things?'

  'Not good, Frank. We've just been robbed.'

  There was a loud gasp at the other end of the line. 'Eh? ... what the fuck are you talking about. What are you saying?'

  'We've just been robbed. A couple of big guys got in. They were pretending to be the usual security guards who'd come to pick up the money.'

  'I thought you had your own minders!'

  'Yeah, I do, but they beat up Jonny and Ross and forced me to open the safe. They've cleaned us out, Frank.'

  'What do you mean us? You're just putting our cash through the bank. We pay you bloody well for it too!'

  Carlo paused before replying. 'Don't give me that,' he said calmly. 'The cash in the safe was around forty grand of my money and the twenty three grand that your boys brought over yesterday. The arrangement benefits both of us, and if I have to stand the whole of the hit – the deal's off for good . … I mean it – I'm telling you!'

  Frank Mannion softened a little. 'But who was it? How did they get in?'

  'They were dressed like Forth Security guys, and they had visors down on their helmets so we didn't get to see their faces.'

  'Sounds like another City outfit trying to make a move on us. Could even be Glasgow boys. I'll make some enquiries … find out who's trying to put one over on us ... It couldn't be an inside job, could it?'

  'I've thought of that. They did seem to know what they wanted.'

  'Do a check on your staff then. Oh, aye, and what happened to the bank security guys who should have come?'

  'They turned up late – ten minutes after they'd gone. Said they'd been held up in traffic.'

  'Oh, aye! I don't believe in coincidences. See if you can find out how they got held up. They could even have been in on it. What did they say when you didn't have anything to give them? You didn't tell them you'd been robbed, I hope?'