Finders Keepers

by Kris Lillyman

  “Please,” said van Elst, rising from his chair, “Take your time to count it. The case is yours, with my compliments. I will return in a few minutes.” He and the assistant then slipped silently out of the room leaving Jake alone.

  He opened the case and stared at the contents in wonder. Two hundred and fifty thousand euros. More money than he had ever seen in his life in any currency. It was staggering and he was till trying to come to terms with it but van Elst’s words of warning were also ringing in his head. He had to be careful. Very careful indeed and so far he had been anything but. He had been foolhardy and naive but fortunately very lucky although he knew his luck would not last forever.

  At present, the remainder of the diamonds were in a hotel room down the road, in a backpack, unguarded, unsecured. A gift for any opportunist thief. It was incredibly stupid of him to leave them there like that but he did not know what else to do. The hotel safe deposit box was far too small and he did not want to invite any undue attention. But now he realised that he had to take much more care.

  He had to stash the diamonds somewhere safe, somewhere no one could easily get at them. A bank vault, van Elst had recommended and in that moment Jake made the decision to travel onto Switzerland where he would find a bank and store the diamonds securely in its vault.

  Ten minutes later van Elst returned to the office and Jake, satisfied that he had been paid the agreed amount, shook his hand, thanked him again for his advice and left the building a much wealthier man than when he had entered.

  * * *

  Two hours later, Jake was on a train headed for Switzerland and by the following morning he was in Zurich.

  Chapter 16

  Six weeks after discovering that the car had been rented to Jake Sawyer, the BMW was found abandoned in France.

  It had been dumped in an old run down barn near Poitiers and only discovered by the landowner who, quite by chance, was considering selling the derelict building to developers.

  DCI Coyle arrived in Poitiers on a Ryanair flight from Stansted a day later. At the airport he took a cab to the local Gendarmerie to introduce himself. From there, the officer in charge escorted him to the barn where the BMW had been found. He spent an hour having a thorough look around but found nothing. He was then escorted to the depot where the abandoned vehicle had been taken, but it was empty, offering no clues as to where the driver might have gone. The French police could offer nothing new either. As far as they were concerned, this was just an abandoned vehicle of very little importance.

  DCI Coyle then thanked the officer for his help and took a cab back to the airport to catch the evening flight home.

  The next day the real DCI Coyle arrived in Poitiers only to discover that an impostor had been there the day before asking the exact same questions.

  Roper couldn’t believe it. Someone had been there, in France, posing as him, asking questions about what had previously appeared to be such a trifling matter as an abandoned car.

  This, however, proved to Roper that his gut was right. There was more to this case. Much more. But where to go now? There were no further leads to pursue, no clues that the car had revealed and Jake Sawyer was still missing without trace. Vanished, it seemed, into the ether.

  * * *

  After a day posing as DCI Roper Coyle, Aaron Sumpter arrived back from France only slightly wiser than when he had left. Knowing only that the BMW was of no further use to him and that Jake Sawyer was now the person to find. But unlike the real Coyle, Sumpter had knowledge that could lead him further in the investigation, he knew of the diamonds, of how many there were, of their value and of the likely places someone might try to sell them. He also now knew, with near certainty, who it was who would no doubt be keen to find a buyer for them.

  Chapter 17

  Zeiss Schiller was a very old and established bank sitting in the Paradeplatz in downtown Zurich, a place synonymous with wealth and banking. The austere architecture of the square lent a certain weight to the surroundings and the bank itself with its grey columns, beautiful stonework and ornamental balconies was incredibly imposing as Jake, now dressed in a suit with his beard trimmed and hair tied back in a neat pony tail stepped into the oak panelled foyer. With him he carried the leather bound briefcase containing the diamonds and the metal one he had been given by Hugo van Elst which contained the money. Had he been mugged on the way to the bank his attacker would have been extremely fortuitous indeed. But thankfully he had not.

  He walked up to the pleasant looking young lady at the reception desk and asked to speak with Otto Drescher with whom he had made an appointment the day before.

  Drescher appeared within minutes, impeccably dressed and military in bearing but smiley and professional in his manner. He led Jake through to a vast private office, again all oak-panelled with a heavy antique desk in the centre and two comfortable leather bound office chairs either side. Drescher ushered Jake to one of them then sat down opposite. “You wish to open a numbered account, I understand, Mister Sloane, is that correct?”

  “It is,” Replied Jake, now using the name printed on one of his counterfeit passports. “If that is possible.”

  “Of course.”

  “I would also like a safe deposit box, if I may, to store a few items of value. Would that be okay?”

  “Certainly, Mister Sloane. Whatever you require Zeiss Schiller will be more than happy to oblige.”

  “Good. I would also like to make several one off payments to various recipients and set up one regular payment on a monthly basis.”

  “Of course. I can certainly help you with that, it is very easy.” Said Drescher.

  “Thank you. And these payments would be anonymous?”

  “Yes, Mister Sloane, that is the benefit of a numbered account. The bank will not reveal your identity to anyone. It will be kept entirely secret. The account will be authorized by a code word known only to you and me, thus ensuring your privacy and our complete discretion.”

  “That sounds ideal for my purposes, Mister Drescher. Thank you,” said Jake.

  “Not at all,” said Drescher, “Once we have completed the paperwork I will lead you down to the vault where you will be able to access your safety deposit box in complete privacy.”

  * * *

  Forty minutes later, Jake had deposited one-hundred thousand euros into his newly opened account and had made anonymous payments to all his creditors, settling his debts in full. He had also set up a regular monthly payment to Angie and the kids.

  Now he was three floors below ground level in the pristine bank vault of Zeiss Schiller. The white polished floor and bright white lighting seeming very modern and clinical in contrast to the more traditional surroundings of Drescher’s office. Drescher had escorted him down to the vault in the private elevator, leading him through two sets of thick iron gates each manned by a security guard and accessed via iris recognition. He had then been led into one of three large rooms within the vault, each one again with its own security guard. Down two of the walls were banks of white doored security boxes, all about eighteen inches square, all with two key slots and a small keypad on the front. At the far end of the room were four curtained booths each containing a small desk and a swivel chair.

  Drescher guided Jake to box number 1301 and inserted his own guard key. He then instructed Jake on what to do next. When he was sure that Jake understood, he said, “I will be waiting for you outside. There is no rush. Please take as much time as you need.” With that, he gave a curt nod of his head and walked away.

  Jake watched him leave then turned his own access key in the slot, which was given to him upon opening his account. After that, he pressed set on the keypad, punched in his unique pass code and then hit enter. The door clicked open and he pulled out the large plastic box it contained and carried it over to the first booth, drawing the curtain closed behind him. He then set the box on the desk and placed t
he leather bound briefcase alongside it.

  Jake snapped open the case and took one last look at what it contained, randomly picking out a bag or two and studying the contents. He had parted with fourteen diamonds in total but the case still housed hundreds more, however, Jake had sold as many as he needed to. He would not sell any more.

  Sense and reason had at last caught up with him, the initial rush of adrenaline had passed and his previously fragile state of mind had been given enough time to recuperate. He had finally regained his sanity and his morality. And along with it his guilt.

  However, the fact remained that he had stolen the diamonds. He could not alter that now, what was done was done. He had done what he needed to; paid off his debts and set up a fund to help Angie and the kids. But enough was now enough and the madness of the last few weeks had to stop. He would take some time, a few months maybe, just to get his head completely right - enjoy life without stress or worry for a while. Then, when the time was right, he would return home and face up to life again. Either with or without Angie.

  Jake closed the case, placed it into the plastic box and returned it to the drawer. He then went to find Drescher who escorted him back upstairs. The receptionist gave Jake back the metal case of van Elst’s, which he had left with her whilst he was down in the vault. He thanked her and Drescher then left the bank.

  Back in the Paradeplatz, Jake flagged down a taxi. “Airport please,” he said to the driver.

  As the taxi moved into the flow of traffic leaving the bank and the diamonds far behind, Jake felt the burden of responsibility slip from his shoulders.

  Chapter 18

  Roper decided that he should visit Angie Sawyer in person, to see if she could think of anything, no matter how seemingly insignificant, that could help him find her missing husband. So he and Eckhart drove down to Northamptonshire to meet with her.

  Angie Sawyer was a very attractive woman in her early thirties with long dark hair, deep brown eyes and a good figure that was disguised by a baggy jumper and comfy jeans. Her new partner, Richard Maddox sat next to her with a protective arm around her shoulders. As a couple they looked somehow mismatched as Maddox was not a particularly attractive man, blonde but balding, lanky but with a slight pot-belly. However, judging by the house and the Jag parked in the driveway he was clearly successful and obviously quite wealthy. Knowing a little about Mrs Sawyer and her estranged husband’s previous circumstances Coyle guessed that the money was probably the attraction.

  Roper spent some time with Mrs Sawyer asking her about her husband, about his work, his life, his financial situation, anything to see if she could shed any light on to why his rented BMW had been found abandoned in France and why he had gone missing. But she couldn’t. Except to say that Jake was under enormous pressure and suffering from severe stress and possibly clinical depression.

  However, what she did say had happened since they had last spoke, was that all hers and Jake’s debts had been paid in full and two payments of £2,000 had been paid into her bank account from an unknown benefactor, once several weeks ago and once more just yesterday.

  Again, Coyle was astonished. The money, it seemed, had been wired into Angie’s account from an untraceable source. Why and by whom? Coyle had a good idea as to the whom but as to the why or, more importantly, the how, remained a mystery. Once again Roper’s thoughts came back to the diamond found at the scene of Charles Khan’s accident and the certainty that this, or possibly others like it, were the key to this case.

  * * *

  Again Sumpter reported his findings to Bearing and Khan and this time was left in no doubt of Arthur’s impatience. Particularly when he revealed what he had just learned through Coyle’s computer, of Angie and Jake Sawyer’s debts being paid by a mysterious benefactor.

  Sumpter had felt uneasy about revealing this information but Khan was pushing. He wanted results and Aaron felt that he had to placate him. He now wished he had not as Arthur Khan was likely to take matters into his own hands, which could possibly put the investigation back months.

  Chapter 19

  The anonymous call came in at 6.05pm, the caller asking specifically for Detective Chief Inspector Roper Coyle. The voice on the line was tinny, as if it was being synthesized or played through a computer.

  “Who is this?” Coyle asked.

  “Who I am is not important,” said the metallic voice. “What I’ve got to say is.”

  “And that is?” said Coyle.

  “Angela Sawyer and her family are not safe.”

  “Not safe? What do you mean?”

  “I mean exactly that. She and her family are in danger.”

  “From whom?” Asked Coyle.

  “I can say no more, except that you should take this warning seriously.”

  “How can I take it seriously when I don’t even know who you are–”

  “That’s of no consequence to me,” the metallic voice interrupted. “Believe what I say or don’t believe it, but you have been warned.”

  “Now hold on a sec–” Coyle began, but the line had already gone dead.

  * * *

  Sergeant Janet Willow had not heard from her boyfriend, Colin, in four days. In fact, she was not sure if he was actually her boyfriend as they had only been out a few times, the last time to a country pub on the outskirts of Northampton. They had slept together that night and the following morning Colin had left before she awoke. He had texted later that morning to say thanks for a lovely time and that he would call her later in the week. But so far he had not and she was starting to feel anxious. She really liked him - she had actually fancied him for ages but she did not think he knew she existed. Then out of the blue he asked her out and now, just five dates later, she thought she loved him. But he had not called.

  Janet was sitting at her desk daydreaming, doodling his name in biro on her desk pad, scrawling a heart shape around it with her name underneath. It was 6.20pm, she was finishing at six-thirty. She’d had quite enough of Northants Police for one day and was keen to get home to see if there were any messages from Colin. Just ten more minutes and she would be free.

  Then the phone rang for her boss but he was out so she took the call.

  “Could I speak to Jeff Grainy please? This is DCI Coyle from The Met.”

  “Sorry, sir, but DI Grainy is not here at the moment, can I take a message?” Said Janet.

  “Yes - but it’s important that Grainy gets this as soon as possible - do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir,” said Janet, stifling a yawn, “of course.”

  “Good. Now listen, I’ve just had an anonymous tip-off saying Angela Sawyer and her family are in grave danger and I have every reason to believe that they are. They are going to need protection.”

  “Protection. Yes, sir.”

  “Tell Grainy to get a car over there tonight. Tell him it’s important - got that?”

  “Important. Got it, sir. I’ll tell him.” Janet said.

  “Good,” Coyle replied. “If he’s got any questions ask him to give me a call, would you?”

  At that moment, Janet’s mobile phone began buzzing in her handbag and she reached down to grab it. “I’ll be sure to tell him, sir,” she said as she pulled out her phone and saw the caller ID. It was Colin. Janet’s heart skipped a beat, she had to answer, she didn’t want to miss him. “Thank you, sir,” she said. “Goodbye.” The moment she put the phone down to Coyle she hit the answer button on her mobile. “Hello, stranger?” she said. “I thought you’d forgotten about me.”

  “Now how could I forget about you - especially after what you did the other night - I still don’t know how you did it–”

  “Sssh, you naughty boy,” Janet giggled. “I’m still at work and someone might hear. But if you’re lucky, I might do it again.”

  “Sounds great. How about tonight - I could pick you up from work and we coul
d go back to your place–”

  “Oh, we could, could we?” Janet teased, all thoughts of her previous conversation washed from her brain as it flooded with ideas of seeing Colin in just a few minutes. “And do what, exactly?”

  “Well, I thought perhaps you could do that thing again and then when I’ve reciprocated, we could take a shower and then maybe go out for dinner. How does that grab you?”

  “It grabs me,” she giggled again, “very much.”

  “What time do you get off?”

  “Shortly I hope.”

  “Now who’s being naughty? I meant what time shall I pick you up?”

  “Can you be here in ten minutes?”

  “I can be there in five.”

  “Good. I can’t wait. See you outside.”

  Janet was over the moon as she switched off her computer and grabbed up her bag, already fantasising about what she and Colin were going to get up to in just a short while.

  As she walked excitedly through the double doors on the way to the car park, she passed DI Jeff Grainy on the way back to his desk after an afternoon in the field. “Goodnight, sir,” she said.

  “Goodnight, Janet.” Replied Grainy. “Have a good evening.”

  “Oh, I will,” thought Janet as the door closed behind her. “I will.”

  Chapter 20

  It was four in the morning when Arthur Khan parked the Range Rover in the small copse close to Richard Maddox’s house. Parking it well out of sight, he chose to travel the rest of the way on foot, unseen, across the fields. Maddox’s house was separated from the rest of the village by a short country lane and backed out onto open fields at the rear, the garden easily accessed over a low fence, which was absolutely perfect for Arthur’s entry and exit.