by Carl Hancock
The man sounded young, maybe early twenties and making valid arguments why they shouldn’t spend so much on new clothes when hiring was cheaper. With their whole future in front of them and little savings their hope of getting a foot on the property ladder was slipping further away with every pound they spent. Matt considered it sensible and forward thinking, his bride to be however thought otherwise.
An inevitable choice of words followed, accusations that he almost felt embarrassed to hear. Unlike him he even felt sorry for the young man who had already indicated he couldn’t get anymore overtime because of the lack of hours in the day.
As if the time wasn’t stressful enough for anyone walking down the aisle, their young years and lack of resources coupled with the obvious fact that she wore the trousers in their relationship was a situation he didn’t envy.
Silence echoed around the room except for the occasional ching of the register echoing up the stairway. From what he could tell the warring couple had either kissed and made up or silently and swiftly come to a compromise.
From the corner of his eye he witnessed the sullen assistant manoeuvre along the base of the aisles just as someone sat down next to him.
The tall lanky figure fell onto the bench, his jeans and leather jacket seemingly out of place for the scenario he was in. Matt glanced in his direction, his hair brushed equally to the sides and wearing dark framed glasses that spread out over his face he didn’t seem to fit the genre for the clothes he wore.
For a man like him, reading people and making assumptions about their abilities and strengths was second nature. From what he had heard and now seen about the young man he had determined that he was weak, who else would work all hours yet still have nothing to show for it? Manipulation was a tool that drew results from him as shown by his bride, he was susceptible to persuasion and some people like that were useful to others. Marginally more though were doomed for a life of following, of underachieving and simply just getting by. Something Matt could never settle for being.
‘Getting it the ear then? Couldn’t help but overhear,’ he commented. Entering into chat with a stranger was unfamiliar ground for him, but he didn’t see the conversation going anyway challenging and couldn’t imagine a more unlikely copper.
A simple untamed grunt was the reply; quite rightly he was upset at his treatment and being abruptly dismissed by his female companion.
Receiving a brush off suited Matt in reality, he was only extending a courtesy having not asked for his space to be encroached upon.
Voices travelled from the next aisle, crossed words and irate banter flowing between what he could only just make out to be the woman and the shop assistant. With no choice but to listen his attempts to disguise the fact failed.
‘She only wants the best see, doesn’t understand designer labels cost more than we can afford and to make matters worse that grumpy sales girl kept making digs about the likes of us being better suited to rummaging through the charity shops than wasting their time.’
The tired voice gave him something other than eavesdropping to concentrate on, women were hard to please even with his amount of years experience behind him, he couldn’t help thinking the man had a lot to learn yet.
‘Did she really say that?’
He shook his head before answering. ‘Not directly, but to one of her colleagues she did and she was staring directly at us, if I had my way I would have left there and then but Marie said that just would play right into her hands.’
Matt obliged by nodding his head in agreement. ‘Sounds to me like Marie’s right, perhaps you should ask to see the manager and make a complaint,’ he suggested.
The young man declined the advice as Matt was sure that he would, it was clear that it wasn’t his nature to make a fuss or fight for his rights even if it meant settling a grievance.
‘You might even get offered a discount if you see it through,’ he urged prompting him to reconsider.
Again he declined, spouting a list of reasons why it wouldn’t work and he wouldn’t win, the negativity stemming from him summing him up completely.
If what he said was true then the woman would have deserved any punishment dealt out to her within the confines of her employment contract, he wouldn’t have been so easily intimidated. The store was open to the general public regardless of their individual means and such treatment would have undoubtedly been frowned upon.
Looking down at his watch, the expensive time piece he wore revealed the passage of time was ever so slowly creeping by. With so many other important tasks to be attending to he questioned his logic in taking so much else on board.
‘Nice watch,’ the man commented observing his actions. ‘Must have cost a packet!’
An outright question always deserved an abrupt reply.
‘No not really, it’s a fake, a good one but fake all the same,’ he lied. He wasn’t big headed and saw no reason to make him feel worse than he already must.
‘Oh right, of course. I mean who can afford a watch like that these days?’ he said standing up. ‘The genuine ones must retail at over 20 grand new.’
‘I guess they must,’ he replied knowing it was more in the region of 25.
Left alone he wondered how much longer he would have to suffer the normality’s of everyday life alongside everyday people. Ten minutes passed with the young man appearing and then disappearing, the changing of clothes and the matching of outfits were making him a dizzy bystander.
The assistant returned to her sales counter closely followed by the bride to be who it appeared had completed her shopping. Next to him her groom reseated himself tugging on his trainers and then standing to tighten his loose belt. Confirming their completion he rummaged in his pocket and pulled out his wallet just as he was called over to present the payment. As he did so he bid farewell and turned and walked off, pulling a credit card from his wallet a separate piece of card of similar size fell unnoticed to the ground.
Observing the incident Matt lent down to retrieve the item, a business card that humored him as he read it. He was surprised to think that a business of that nature warranted advertising of that kind. He thought briefly about calling out and handing it back but the young man had his hands full, he slipped it into his jacket pocket but didn’t consider he’d need the services for a good number of years just yet.
A vibration in his trouser pocket forced his mind to detour, standing and retrieving it he was pleased to see it was the one person he had hoped would call soon.
‘Suzy, all done now?’
Unsure where he had escaped to she explained that the two of them were eagerly waiting by the main entrance for him, she emphasized they were hungry and thirsty. He took the hint telling her he was on his way and ended the call before putting the phone away.
Walking past the sales counter he was drawn again to the conversation of others. It transpired that the method of payment offered by the young couple had been refused by the issuing bank despite numerous attempts and several confident assurances that it should process successfully.
The assistant was as unwilling to help as before, insisting that a different form of payment was necessary or the items will have to be returned to stock. Impatient she hurried them along; as the couple stood there embarrassed the young man bore the brunt of the chaos bearing the burden of blame from the disappointed bride. She burst out crying realizing she was to leave the store empty handed having spent so much time indecisively.
Smug looking the assistant moved the chosen items to one side as she prepared to serve another patron; the young man stood alone ashen faced and discarded.
It had taken mere seconds to relocate from his seated position to the top of the stairs but in that time he had witnessed a situation he wouldn’t relish being in himself. He paused for a moment as if something had just hit him, he placed his hand in his pocket and pulled out the card previously dropped and glanced at it again.
Suzy was waiting but he had something else to see to at that very
moment, the young man was called Simon Travis and right then he needed some help. Matt approached him, bewildered and fumbling through his wallet he was mumbling that he didn’t know why it had been declined. The statement or excuses were of little concern to Matt.
‘Don’t worry about it, maybe we can help each other out!’
Ten minutes after receiving the call he was pleased to see the two women still waiting for him, although not appreciative for having to wait for such a long period. Banter about what took him so long was humbly dismissed as they strolled out into the street integrating with the crowd. Abdicating all choice over where to eat he left the decision to his companions, following them up the street to a bistro while they peered in through the window to examine the menu.
Turning to face the direction they had come he saw Marie, the bride to be standing opposite the store and Simon the groom laden with shopping bags standing outside it.
‘Come on ladies, are we going to eat or what?’ he urged pushing them through the open door.
Chapter Eleven
The results of the late nights and disturbed sleep were evident in Matt’s behaviour and the persona he projected. With so many headaches he needed a way to unburden himself, a release before he boiled over and acted without due thought to the many consequences. A desire burned from within him to share the information he had so far unearthed, an urge to share what he knew just in case he was the first to be dealt a blow.
Pulling up in sight of the plush three storey townhouse he switched off the engine, the house was ablaze with lights shining upstairs and down. A silhouette passing by the window provided him with the answer he needed, that his journey had not been wasted.
Dialling home on his phone he knew the series of white lies he was becoming accustomed to telling were one day going to come back to haunt him, if only in the form of guilt eating away at him. Suzy wasn’t stupid or even gullible which made his actions seem worse, although they could speak of most things with complete honesty this was not one of them. Making yet more plausible excuses for his absence he comforted himself with the belief the distortion of truth was in her best interests.
Dave Griggs led a single carefree existence, no ties or family responsibilities to hold him back or restrict his pleasures in life. In some ways Matt was quite envious of his friend’s relaxed attitude toward commitment, his reluctance to conform and to settle down in a monogamous relationship, but in other ways he struggled to understand it.
Placing the mobile phone in the glove box his hand brushed against the small handgun he had deemed necessary to keep close by. Pausing for a moment’s thought he decided it was best left where it was for now, with no need to take it in the house he exited the vehicle and made sure to lock the doors.
The front door to the house opened as he approached, a young man he didn’t recognize walked out. Stood on the opposite side of the road he saw Dave walk out after him and hand him something before seeing him off. Matt called out as he crossed the road, the young visitor walked in the opposite direction as he made his way to the top of the steps.
The door had shut; Dave oblivious to his attendance had not heard his calling. He knocked on the door and waited, he knew most of Dave’s friends and acquaintances but not the man who had just left. It was unusual to say the least that he was entertaining company at his home, having previously admitted given the choice he kept his work away from his private life.
Impatiently he knocked again and rang the bell, the overhead light came back on and he heard movements from within until finally the door swung open. A surprised and dishevelled figure stood in front of him.
‘What the fuck have you been up to?’
Dave was caught off guard; he looked around Matt nervously and into the street. His shirt was untucked from his trousers and the top four buttons undone exposing his bare chest. ‘What you talking about?’
Matt didn’t wait for an invitation and made his way into the house taking his jacket off in the hallway and hanging it up on the under used coat hook. ‘I’ve been calling you for hours, we’ve got a problem,’ he told him directly.
Dave closed the door and adjusted his clothes; he switched off the outer light and followed Matt into the lounge. ‘Yeah, problems with my mobile again, it isn’t holding the charge.’
Matt helped himself to a stiff drink from the cabinet; downing it he poured another and placed the top back on the decanter. ‘Doesn’t help if the landlines off the hook either I suppose,’ he commented.
Dave followed his glare; he walked over and replaced the receiver. ‘Must have fallen off,’ he said.
His friend’s behaviour was different to usual, he seemed edgy and indecisive. Unlike the confident straightforward colleague he knew him to be. He nodded in agreement. ‘Accidents happen,’ he said.
Dave switched the television off and gestured to his visitor to take a seat unaware of the reason for the intrusion.
With a lot to discuss Matt placed his drink on the nearby coffee table and cleared his throat. ‘The consignment got hit!’ he declared with no way to soften it.
‘What?’ Dave stuttered in numb shock. ‘When? How?’ he managed to ask.
‘I got a call from Jack a couple of hours ago,’ Matt said. ‘He was hurt pretty badly, a couple of the other lads too. Fortunately they managed to get to the medic; he’s bandaging them up as we speak.’
The medic was a former doctor, struck off for inappropriate behaviour who was now first port of call for people not wishing to answer questions about how their injuries had come about.
‘But they’re going to be Ok?’
Matt nodded. ‘The cargos gone though.’
Dave circled the room rubbing his head deep in thought; he had planned the job with care, just as he had many times before.
‘How though, we were so careful in all the details, only a handful of people knew about it, the time and dates I mean,’ he reiterated.
‘I don’t know yet, I was hoping we could put our heads together and work it out.’
Matt explained what he had been told, that the shipment had been handed over on the M20 near Dover at approximately 19.30 as planned. Jack had taken the lorry while the others followed discreetly in the escorting vehicle, Jack had assured him that all due care and precautions had been taken. At no point was there any sign of another vehicle tailing them, the roads were clear and the journey to the warehouse looked like being completed in good time. Thirty minutes into the journey two vehicles pulled out in front of him from a slip road. The two cars positioned themselves on the two lane motorway and began to slow down forcing the lorry to mimic their actions. Despite the overbearing size of the lorry and the numerous times that he used the horn the cars continued to slow him down.
The escorting car, anxious of his constant use of the brakes and the dangerous swiveling of the lorry feared it could jackknife; they pulled out into the second lane to get a better view of what the situation was. They pulled up beside the lorry and flashed the drivers of the cars alerting them of their presence. At that point they just suspected some joy riders were out having a laugh, but they soon realized that wasn’t the case.
‘I don’t understand, how did they get the cargo? Jack could have just ran them off the road as soon as he knew they were there on the rob,’ Dave asked.
Matt agreed that he was stumped at the very same question, but Jack explained that he received a call on his mobile from a number that he didn’t recognize. When he answered it he was told not to hang up, that he was advised to pull the vehicle over before someone got hurt. The caller told him that all they wanted was the cargo, but if he didn’t pull over then a stinger would be used to incapacitate the lorry, regardless of whether the shipment would be salvageable or not. Jack was given two minutes in which to comply, the vehicle in the outside lane slammed its brakes on forcing the escorting car to rear end it, it lost traction and hit the central reservation spinning around numerous times before grinding to a halt.
Seeing this, t
he two cars had sped up and roared out of sight; Jack was left unprotected and with the remaining daylight could see something being placed in the quiet stretch of motorway not too far in the distance.
Panicking he realized they were true to their word, he slammed his foot on the brake stopping just short of the device that would have overturned the lorry with him in it.
It had happened so fast, the two dazed men accompanying him were stranded too far back to be of assistance. He was dragged from the lorry and any resistance beaten from him, four men in total had executed a well organized plan to steal from them.
‘Any ideas on who was involved? It’s certainly not amateurs by the sound of it,’ Dave asked.
‘No, no-one saw their faces and the voice was muffled beyond recognition,’ Matt replied.
‘Someone’s been talking though, only a handful of people knew the pickup point, it sure as hell wasn’t guess work,’ Dave insisted.
Matt could understand his obvious anger at the outcome, it was a lot of dough to let slip through their fingers let alone the damage it could do to their reputation. Paranoia and finger pointing were typical in situations like this; if he didn’t know or trust him as he did he could consider his own actions suspicious. A stranger seen leaving his home after dark, unlikely excuses for the phone being off the hook and his calls remaining unanswered at the very time the deal was going down were all valid actions to raise suspicion.
‘Well it wasn’t either of us, was it?’ he commented rhetorically.
‘That only leaves Jack and the other two though, and you can’t suspect Jack surely?’ Dave quizzed.
Matt thought for a second, Jack had been loyal for many years and had seen and done a lot of unscrupulous acts on his behalf.
