Dead End

by Andrew Hamilton

  “Yeah! Three years already. loved every minute of it. I’m going to do my signature dish. I’ll need to get some champers.”

  “Beef Wellington I presume?”

  “Yeah!”

  “Well don't go buying any red I have a nice surprise for you. I’ll bring it in on Thursday.”

  “I hope it’s what I think it is?”

  “Ha! Just wait and see.”

  After the meeting, they returned to the office and, with Carla, went over some figures again. Bob touched on the possibility of Directors dividends but as he suspected Carla put her foot down and Bob didn't have a good reason to challenge her, or at least not one he could reveal to her.

  Bob headed home but decided to stop on the way to meet with Diane’s contact. If he could get full value for the Jag he would have a little to spare, maybe enough to get back in a game.

  31

  On Wednesday evening Dario was home alone. He lifted one of the gems to the light above. They looked perfect to him and he was sure they would need close inspection and an expert eye to tell the difference. He put all twenty in a plastic bag with a zip seal and pushed them into the hidden pocket in the waistband of his trousers.

  He now had just about everything in place for his plan. He had one last thing to do and if it looked convincing he could go ahead. He didn't have much choice. He was leaving one way or another but wanted to go out with as much as possible. It was only what he was due after all, he thought.

  He carefully burrowed a tiny hole through the wax top using a carpet tack. He then forced the cannula down the side of the cork but hard against the glass. With a syringe and the bottle tilted he managed to extract a small amount of red wine and he knew then that it would work. He carefully removed 40 ml of wine and replaced it with liquid temazepam. It was the equivalent of around four sleeping pills which following a bottle of champagne should make for a deep sleep. The likelihood that there might be some white wine and a possible Antiquery or two made him feel sure they would never know he was there. He then carefully removed the cannula and using the heat from a hairdryer, to avoid blackening the wax, managed to mould it back to its original condition. A sticky tinselly bow on the top of the bottle finished it off and by the time they got to red wine there was little chance they would notice, either by look or taste.

  The kit bag was stashed with thirty-seven thousand in cash. Most of it had been exchanged for Euros a bit at a time. Eighteen thousand was from sale of his company car, a BMW 3 Series, to his elderly unsuspecting and trusting neighbour. The old gent had been given a bargain and he was delighted with it. The car was worth around twenty-seven thousand but Dario had told him he needed the money desperately for an operation for his mum. Dario had handed over the V5, then in his own name, after stealing it from the office files. He had hoped that he would get away with not sending the document to and DVLA but the new keeper insisted that he would do that. As a result, Dario had to come up with a solution to intercept the letter from DVLA notifying the previous owner that they were no longer registered as the keeper. That had taken a bit of effort but had worked out well. If Carla had gotten her hands on that he would have had to leave with a lot less. He had handed the keys over to his elderly neighbour confident in the knowledge that he would be long gone by the time the leasing company came knocking. The other nineteen thousand was as a result of all his hard work delivering ‘cake’, most of which he had kept for himself. The storage containers had cost a fraction of what he had told Bob. Then there was Smith who was, in fact, a rotund builder who liked to take elderly citizens to the bank and steal their life savings for not fixing their roof. There had been many smaller brown envelopes over the years that had been retained by Dario as they had never been required in the first place. Dario was actually good at getting in contracts without bribes.

  With the spare keys for the Jag, which had been hidden in the cutout book in Bob’s drawer he had almost everything he needed. He could have probably guessed the code for the safe in the kitchen cupboard as Zoe’s date of birth 0304: the third of April, and luckily Bob had scribbled a note in the same book: Sf = Z’s Bday.

  He planned to arrive late in the day and at some point near to home time, he would disappear. Bob would never realise that he would unwittingly help him gain entry to his home without ever being seen.

  On the Friday morning, he would arrive back at work and jump on the Ducati to go to a meeting, adding that he wouldn’t be back as he had a hospital appointment in the afternoon. He would not really be missed until Monday at the earliest by which time he would be a rich gentleman touring Europe buying and selling diamonds. He knew he was smart enough to get work when he needed it but for the short term, he planned to live the life which had been stolen from him, by Zoe.

  Dario headed off to bed but didn't sleep. He went over his plan a thousand times. He knew it would work.

  The following afternoon Dario jumped from the taxi and managed to get into the car park without being spotted. He was pleased to see the Jag was there, of course, it was, it was Thursday. He was counting on Bob doing everything the way he always did anything: routinely. The car was neatly parked out with the view of the office. He spent his last two hours working for Bob going over his plan trying to work out unforeseen scenarios which might arise. The Ducati and his travel bag were neatly locked away in the container. At the close of business, when the car park would be dark enough, he had to get into the Jag without Bob realising. It was the only way he could get into the house undetected. The CCTV not only recorded every movement, it notified Bob if someone approached the doorway. It was a Trojan Horse scenario. Get in undercover while they are comatose through alcohol and sedatives and get the diamonds. In the morning use the Trojan Horse to get back to the yard and then disappear. It would be a long time before Bob realised the diamonds had been replaced by cubic zirconia, Dario thought to himself. And, when he did discover it, he would have to suspect Zoe as she was the only other person with knowledge of the diamonds and the safe. Dario liked that idea.

  He had the Jag’s spare key to get in and he had adjusted the lock so he could pop it open from the inside. The Haynes Owners Workshop manual had told him everything he needed to know about the boot mechanism. He had managed to get a closer look at the boot area on more than one occasion when Bob had left him in the car to pick up shopping for Zoe on the way home from meetings.

  Bob was sitting in his office when Dario walked in carrying a wine bag.

  “You all sorted for tonight?” asked Dario.

  “Yeah! I just need to pick up some fillet on the way home.”

  Dario handed the bag over and when Bob withdrew the bottle he grinned nearly as much as the artwork on the label.

  “Grin. All the way from California. Happy anniversary,” said Dario.

  Dario had always remembered Bob talking about how he and Zoe had discovered a wine called Grin which had a crazy looking character on the label who was grinning wildly. It had been their first serious date and they now considered it as their special wine. Bob annoyingly talked about it as if he had produced it rather than just quaffed it. Dario knew almost certainly that they would drink it as part of their anniversary celebration, especially with a bit of urging from him.

  “This is amazing. I can't wait to show Zoe. It’s our special wine.”

  “I know,” said Dario who resisted the temptation to say ‘knock yourself out.’

  “It’ll be perfect with the Beef Wellington.”

  “Yes indeed. Remember and open it early and get it breathing.”

  “Of course. Thanks, mate.”

  “I need to check my tyre. It looked a bit soft. I’ll put the wine in your car so you don't leave it in the office.”

  “Good idea, thanks.” Bob handed Dario the keys. Dario wanted a last look in the boot of the Jag. As he expected, it was as always empty and pristine. He could see the mechanism was exposed and if he had trouble with it he had a pinch bar which could burst the lock, in times of emer
gency. There was also the car jack, neatly stored against the rear seats should he need a bit of leverage. With no alarm, he could get in and out without attracting attention.

  Dario had already ‘gone home’ according to Ashley, sporting black with a touch of red when Bob asked where he was. Dario knew Bob was heading home about 5.30 so was in place when he drove off in the Jag. After a brief stop for some last minute shopping, the Jag was soon in the garage and Bob was in the kitchen.

  Dario held the edge of the boot lid and gently prodded at the mechanism with the screwdriver. He was anxious to find out that he could actually get back out. There was a quiet pinging sound and he held still for a few moments without allowing the lid to rise. From the outside, the boot lid still seemed to be closed. After a few moments, he opened it a crack and listened. He could hear music and a very low drone of Bob and Zoe talking. He was going to have to wait for a while but first, he had to check the door to the utility area was unlocked. He crept out and checked. The door was ajar and he reached round and removed the key. Hopefully, if Bob bothered to try and lock it he would blame Zoe for losing the key and just leave it unlocked. He went back to his lair: it was going to be a long night but would be worth it. He had twenty ‘cubics’ with him and hoped there were at least ten diamonds in that safe.

  Bob popped the cork on the champagne, handed a glass to Zoe, who was curled up on the sofa and kissed her shoulder.

  “You hungry?” he asked

  “Starving! I had a hell of a day and I’m exhausted.”

  Bob was amused by that but indulged her. “Just relax and enjoy your Champagne, you deserve it.”

  Bob plucked the tinselly bow off the top of the Grin and plunged the corkscrew through the wax. The cork popped and the sound caused Zoe to look round.

  “Another bottle? We’ve only just open this one.”

  Bob carried the bottle over and held it towards her with both hands, displaying the label just the way a wine waiter would.

  “Oh! lovely. How did you manage that?”

  “A present, all the way from the sunshine state.”

  “Who from?”

  “ Dario.”

  “Gawd! He’ll do anything to be a director.”

  “It was a lovely thought; he’s a nice guy really.”

  Zoe raised her eyes even though she knew Bob couldn't see her doing it.

  “I’ll let it breathe and we can have it with the meal.”

  “What we having?”

  “Your favourite.”

  “Beef Wellington?”

  “Do you have any other favourite?”

  “Brill. D’you need any help?” Zoe made a face like that of a poor wretched child with a petted lip. The last thing she wanted was to get off the sofa. Bob laughed loudly and told her to stay where she was and he would massage her feet when he was finished preparing the food.

  They finished the fizz and then had a glass of Sauvignon. When Bob cut into the beef it was oozing rare and a sumptuous red as bright as Zoe’s perfect polished nails. Creamy mash and roasted vegetables were on the side and a boat of gravy was for sharing. Bob poured them both a glass of red and they kissed softly like an old married couple who just loved each other.

  By 11.30pm the bottle of red which was special in more ways than one had taken its toll. Bob had been thinking that as it was an anniversary he might be looking forward to some ‘afters’ but neither of them would remember climbing the stairs.

  Dario knew everything had gone quiet but knew he had a bit of a wait before making his move. He wanted them to be into a deep sleep and would wait for another two hours at least. He sat on the edge of the boot space and looked around the garage. There were lots of tools: spanners, hammers and saws. Everything was neat and tidy and most of it seemed new and unused.

  At 2 am he snuck into the utility room. He listened for a few moments and all he could hear was a distant snoring. Hopefully, Bob was out for the count. The lights in the living room were still on and the kitchen had not been properly tidied which was most unusual. It was another good sign for Dario. His first task was to unlock the front door in case he needed an emergency exit, but that was very much a last resort. He then turned to the diamonds and quietly removed the baskets from the cupboard and lifted out the panel. Nervously, he entered the pin number. If this failed the whole operation would be a waste of time, although he at least had the cash in the container to fall back on. 0304, Enter. The safe door whirred as the bolts withdrew. He stopped and looked towards the stair. He had forgotten about the noise the safe door made. There was no movement from upstairs so he opened the door. There lay the black velvet bag. He lifted it out and sat it on the worktop. He checked the safe but there was nothing else. He had expected that there would be some cash in an envelope but there was none. It didn't matter, he wasn't after that cash as it would have been noticed immediately and ruin his plan.

  Dario poured the twelve diamonds out onto a tea towel. He had hope for ten so was more than happy with twelve. He carefully swapped them over with his ‘cubics’ and put the safe back to as it was. It was heading for 2.30am and he knew he had about four hours to wait. Bob would be up and away to work by 7.30 am. He knew the sedation would knock them out for many hours, maybe ten or twelve by all accounts and that Bob would probably need an alarm call to wake him. If he wasn't up in time he would call him from the garage on some early morning pretext. He went back to the garage to wait. It was five thirty and he had spent the past three hours thinking about Zoe. He had twice gone back into the living room to listen and contemplate going up and seeing her lying asleep. At 6 am he crept back through. Everything was still and he was sure he could now hear both Bob and Zoe snoring. He was hoping they weren't together. He hated Zoe for what she had stolen from him but although he sometimes thought about blowing her brains out, there were times when all he could do was think about fucking them out. He remembered that night with Bob when he referred to her breasts being Goldilocks tits. He had never considered the idea of being able to see her lying in bed until now. He slowly tiptoed across the thick pile carpet and up the stairs. The third stair creaked loudly and he cringed, waiting to hear someone jumping out of bed. Still, there was no sound but a duet of snores. The door of the first room was slightly ajar and had the sound of a walrus emanating from it. Dario could see that Bob was lying on top of the bed with his side light still on but had remembered to get undressed and had his pyjamas on. Zoe was not beside him and he could tell that the lighter snoring was coming from another room. He picked up a pair of socks which were lying in the hall. He rolled one into a ball and threw it at Bob landing it on his chest. There was no reaction. He then crept along to the next room. The door was closed but he knew she was in there. He could hear her and thought he could smell her perfume. He touched the handle but didn't move it. Something was telling him to stop. If he went in now and she woke he would need to make a dash for it and the chase would be on. His whole plan would be compromised. The sensible thing was to get back in the car and wait.

  Dario couldn't resist and pushed down gently on the handle and the door opened silently without bushing on the carpet. There was a night light plugged into the socket on the far wall, the type a child would have in their room. He stood mesmerised and unseen. Slowly he studied the outline of her body. She was lying on her side with her back towards him. He could see her body rise and fall and he imagined lying tightly behind her. She was snoring quietly and she so far had not heard any of the noises he had made. He tried the sock test, stepping back out of sight as soon as it hit her on the back. He heard her turn and after a moment she was still snoring but a touch louder. He edged around the door to see her lying on her back. She was wearing an arctic white silk slip and was covered by a sheet from the waist down. He wanted a closer look, nothing else he told himself. He crept over to a chair at the side of her bed. His heart was pounding and a voice was telling him he was out of control.

  He sat and scanned the new perspective. Her breasts were a
s he had hoped. Perfect peaks covered in a silky layer of snow. He relaxed into the chair and looked at her gleaming hair, her button nose and slender neck. He had lost all concentration and was for the moment, spellbound. He had to get closer: smell her and maybe touch her. He knelt in front of the chair and on all fours moved forward as if he was invisible. She was near enough the edge of the bed and he was able to lean forward and smell her hair. There was a hint of coconut. He didn't like the taste of coconut but he loved the smell, mainly because it was a hint of Zoe. He was so close to her he could see the smoothness of her skin and the length of her lashes. Her mouth was now closed and her full lips looked so inviting but he knew he could not go that far. He moved his hand forward to gently touch her hair but stopped short as he suddenly realised she had fallen silent. She didn't seem to be breathing. He put his hand close to her nose but there was nothing, No breath in or out. He looked at her bedside table and was horrified to see a bottle of sleeping pills. Bob had never mentioned she used sleeping pills. Why the hell had Bob never mention that to him? How many did she take? How much of the wine did she have? He felt a panic take over him and a cold clammy sweat. He wiped his forehead dry and felt her wrist lightly. He couldn't find any trace of a pulse. He knew he had to get out but then he heard a noise from along the corridor.

  Bob’s phone was vibrating across the bedside table. It was his only alarm which he used to avoid annoying Zoe. It had been on the move for at least thirty seconds. Having finally registered in his subconscious Bob was awake but felt as if he had been on a two-day bender. He had never been on a two-day bender but he was sure the way he felt would have been the result. He headed downstairs and forgot to avoid the third from bottom step and it creaked loudly. He flinched and looked back upstairs waiting for Zoe to shout down to him. Bob knew better than to disturb her on his way to work. He fixed some coffee and some ‘alka seltzer’. He couldn't remember what time they had gone to bed and he was annoyed that he had not tidied up properly. He knew the dishes would be waiting for him when he got home. The cleaner was on holiday and Zoe would lie in all morning and head out shopping for the rest of the day. He didn't really mind that. He loved her and loved looking after her. He mixed a glass of the stomach settler for Zoe and went to take it up. When he got to the stairs he stopped and changed his mind. She can stay in bed all day if she feels like it, he thought to himself.