by Lee Martin
‘Yes.’
‘Good. Now we know you’re GPS’d up, so this has to be quick. Take the next B road. It’s coming up in about two minutes. Drive along until you come to a lay-by. It’s about half a mile. It’s been closed off. Pull up in there and leave the engine running. We’ll be right behind you. Got it?’
‘Got it.’
‘And no funny business. Tell Ken as well. We’ll be in and out in a few minutes, and Sue and John will be safe and sound. OK?’
Jim said nothing.
‘Talk to me Jim,’ said the voice.
‘OK. But they’d better be or I’ll hunt you to the ends of the earth.’
‘No melodrama mate. We don’t want to hurt them. Keep the phone on.’
Jim tossed it onto the dash with a clatter, and as ordered, slowed and pulled onto the B road that came up fast. He drove down until he saw a lay-by on the left. The entrance was blocked by cones, and a no entry sign. There was a man standing by it, shovel in hand, wearing a baseball cap and a scarf over the lower part of his face, with sunglasses over his eyes. When he saw the truck he hastily pulled the cones apart to allow access for it and the following car. As soon as they were inside, he replaced the cones and vanished into the wooded copse on the far side of the lay-by. Jim pulled up and left the engine running as ordered as the car drove up tight behind him and two huge, masked armed men got out. Jim heard a voice from the phone and picked it up. ‘Right Jim,’ said the voice which he assumed to be from the leader of the gang, ‘On your left at the end is an opening. Drive straight through. It’s tight, but you can do it. Don’t worry about the paintwork, I’m sure it’s insured.’
Jim looked at the scrub and trees at the side of the lay-by. As usual the area was full of cans and paper and general rubbish, and sure enough at the end was enough space to take the truck. He put it into gear, bumped up the kerb, if it could be called that, and into the wood. The undergrowth scraped the side of the truck and the going was rough but do-able. Suddenly the wood opened up into a field where two bright yellow JCB earth moving machines were parked with exhaust puffing into the air. Next to the JCBs was a large white two ton truck with its number plate covered with a white rag. ‘Stop,’ said the voice in Jim’s ear, as the two masked men broke through the undergrowth behind them, guns at the ready. The leader was still talking into the phone. ‘Out you get chaps,’ said the voice. ‘And be cool.’
‘He wants us out,’ said Jim.
‘Shit,’ said Ken. ‘This sort of thing happened in Northern Ireland when I was there.’
‘And?’
‘Usually someone died.’
‘Come on now, the pair of you.’ said the voice. ‘We don’t have all day.’
Jim and Ken unlocked the truck and climbed out. The two men pushed them to the side of the truck. ‘Blindfold time chaps,’ said the leader who now switched the phone off and dropped it into the pocket of the Barbour jacket he was wearing. ‘Don’t want you seeing too much.’
‘No,’ said Ken with panic in his voice. ‘That’s what the bloody Provos did, then shot my mates,’ and he lunged at the leader who chopped him down with a vicious blow to the head. ‘Unnecessary,’ he said to Ken’s still form. ‘We ain’t killers.’
He knelt down, felt Ken’s pulse, and nodded. ‘He’ll be all right,’ he said. ‘Bit of a headache. That’s all.’ But blindfolded him nevertheless and fastened his wrists and ankles with plastic ties. ‘Your turn Jim. Don’t worry.’
Jim allowed himself to be blindfolded and tied too, after he’d lain down next to his mate. When the two were secure, the leader made a gesture with his gun hand, and the two JCBs lurched forward. Both the drivers were also masked. The two huge machines slowly took up position, one at the front of the money truck with its shovel hard against the bonnet while the second swung round and smashed into the rear doors. The metal buckled but held as the truck’s alarm screamed. Another blow, another screech of metal and the truck broadsided. The first JCB moved in harder, and the second struck for the third time, and the doors began to cave in. One more hit and the doors flew open, exposing the metal cages packed with black plastic sacks labelled ‘PROPERTY OF HM TREASURY.’ The driver of the front JCB jumped out, dived into the two-tonner and drove it closer to the weighty piles of cash. The three men frantically began to transfer the money, whilst the leader kept an eye on his prisoners. When the loading was almost complete, he took out the phone again, pressed a pre-programmed number and said, ‘All right? No probs? Sweet. Same here. All done. You can go home now.’ He killed the phone and said to Jim. ‘That was your place Jim. Wife and child doing well.’
‘Thank you,’ said Jim.
‘Don’t mention it,’ said the leader, then shouted, ‘Come on you lot. Chop, chop.’
As Jim lay he heard the sound of liquid being poured, then twin whoomps as the JCBs were torched, then the truck’s engine started and it moved away, then in the distance the sound of a car starting, then nothing, apart from the alarm and the roar of the flames destroying the JCBs, and he began to desperately tug at the cuffs around his wrists.
The robbery had happened as planned. Result.
48
Connie, Joe and Robbo had left for the job late the previous evening, telling their wives that they were off for a game of high stakes poker, and not to expect them back until they arrived, and under no circumstances to call them on their mobiles, as they’d be switched off. Niki, Poppy and Kate meekly accepted their lies, kissed them on their cheeks, wished them the best of luck in the game, and straight away hit the phones.
The plan was for the girls to get a good night’s sleep, then early the next morning Poppy would drive to Niki’s, pick her up, then on to Kate’s, pick her up too, and finally drive to Sadie’s to pick up their weapons and prepare for battle. But no one had much sleep that night. As soon as the men had left, Poppy went straight to Niki’s and they spent the night together in her bed. The first time they had ever met at one another’s house.
‘This feels weird,’ said Poppy, after they had made love and were lying together in the dark.
‘What? Being in my bed?’ said Niki.
‘Being in his bed.’
‘After tomorrow it won’t matter. It’ll be no one’s bed. I might set fire to it before we leave.’
‘I’m scared Niki. What happens if it all goes wrong?’
‘It won’t.’
‘You can’t be sure. The guns and everything. They might not even get the money.’
‘They will.’
‘But what happens if something happens to one of us?’
‘Don’t think about it sweetheart. I’ll protect you. I’d die for you.’
‘That’s what I’m afraid of.’
‘I’m a Cossack, Poppy. I’m bullet proof.’
‘God, I hope so.’
‘Trust me.’
‘I do,’ said Poppy as she kissed her lover. ‘I do.’
At her house Kate sat up alone, her stomach churning as she thought of what tomorrow would bring. And as for Sadie, she sat alone too, loading and unloading the weapons that sat on the floor in front of her. Filling the magazines with bullets, then flicking them out and watching them bounce on the carpet. She was surrounded by the kit the women were going to wear the next day. Black jeans, black T-shirts, black hoodies, and each of the girls had bought their own black DMs.
If this goes pear-shaped, she thought, we’re fucked good and proper. But who cares? At least we’ve done something for ourselves for once. She was proud of her little firm. Gangsters’ wives one and all, and if it all goes down the tubes, she thought, at least we did our best. And no one can ask for better than that. She loved the other women. Once, she knew she would only have thought about herself. But now, the other three and her were closer than family. At least I got that out of all the shit that’s happened, she thought, and as she gathered up a handful of slugs, she laughed out loud.
49
The venue for the exchange of old money for new was a
n abandoned warehouse in Stratford just off the A12. The area was falling apart and just waiting for the bulldozers, when, all being well, a shiny new mini-city would be built in time for the 2012 Olympics, and everyone would make a nice few quid. The building itself had been half burnt out a couple of years before. The steel girders that made up its frame were rusty under a coating of soot and bird droppings from the pigeons that had taken up residence there. A high metal fence, covered in graffitied signs telling of the danger within to anyone foolish enough to enter, was hung with lethal razor wire, and the only entrance was a pair of wooden doors fastened with a padlock and chain.
It was late afternoon and the sun was beginning to sink behind the tower blocks that dominated the horizon.
Robbo used his mobile, and a minute later a man in an anorak appeared from the darkness of the building, undid the lock, slid the chain through, and pulled the doors open with a screech of wood on concrete.
Ali drove through the gates and the man pushed them to behind them.
Ali bounced the truck over the uneven tarmac inside and into the building proper which was a mixture of darkness and bright light where the holes in the roof allowed the bright rays of sunshine to enter. Anorak gestured for him to keep going in the direction of a dark blue van parked with its sidelights on. Standing by it were three men. One was in a suit, the other two in leathers and jeans. Both of them were carrying Skorpion sub-machine guns.
Anorak signalled for Ali to drive close to the group and he did so and stopped the engine. One of the gunmen reached inside the driver’s door of the blue van, and its main beams lit up the warehouse.
‘Here goes nothing,’ said Ali.
Ali, Connie, Robbo and Joseph exited the truck and Robbo said, ‘There’s no need for the weapons.’
‘I’ll be the judge of that Robbo,’ said the suited man.
‘Fair enough.’
‘You got the dough?’ asked The Suit.
‘Every note,’ said Connie in reply.
‘You armed?’ said The Suit again.
‘Of course.’
‘Right. That’s why we are. So let’s not get silly. All is well?’
‘You got our cash?’ said Joseph.
‘Every note.’
‘Then we’re all friends here,’ said Ali.
‘Right,’ said The Suit and gestured for his men to lower their guns, which they did.
‘Let’s have a squint then,’ said Suit. ‘And get this over and done with.’
Ali opened the back of the truck and exposed the money which was still neatly bagged. Suit waved Anorak over and he pulled out a black sack at random, split it with a flick knife he pulled from one of his pockets, and the bags inside spilled out onto the ground. ‘Five thousand per bag, twenty bags to a sack,’ he said. ‘Nice of them to make it an easy count.’
‘Hundred thousand a sack,’ said The Suit. ‘Right chaps, this is where we trust the pros. But we all know what’ll happen if there’s been any messing about.’
‘It’s all there,’ said Connie. ‘Now where’s ours?’
Anorak went to the back of the parked van and opened its doors to reveal ten large anonymous suitcases. ‘A million quid in Euros in each,’ he said. ‘Non-consecutive. Pick a box.’
Connie tugged one of the suitcases out and opened the clasps. Inside were bricked, clean Euro notes, all colours of the rainbow. ‘Fair enough,’ he said. ‘Now it’s our turn to trust the pros. But we all know what’ll happen if there’s been any messing about.’
For the first time The Suit smiled. ‘Trust,’ he said. ‘A beautiful word.’
The men with the Skorpions slung them over their shoulders and together with Anorak started unloading the gangsters’ van, now and then splitting a sack to check its contents. ‘Just a precaution,’ said Suit.
‘I’d do just the same,’ said Robbo.
‘You’re all over the news,’ said Suit conversationally. ‘Famous. Not the biggest cash robbery in history, but not bad. Just over twenty million they said.’
‘That’s what we make it,’ said Connie as he yanked the suitcases out of the van and hauled them into their truck. ‘But you can have the extra as a gift. Some of it’ll be rotten I expect.’
‘Oh, don’t worry about that,’ said Suit. ‘Our smurfs are pretty good at getting rid of dirty money.’
When the exchange was over, the four men got into the van. Suit rolled down his window. ‘Off on holiday now, are you?’ he asked. ‘Somewhere warm?’
‘Could be,’ said Connie.
‘Yeah,’ said Suit. ‘I would. It’s pretty warm round here at the moment. There’s cops everywhere. I’d make myself scarce if I was you lot.’
‘We’ll be OK,’ said Connie.
‘Well keep cool,’ said Suit. ‘We won’t be in touch again. All being well that is.’
‘All is well,’ said Joseph.
‘Be lucky then.’
‘You too,’ and the van lurched away in the direction of the gate.
‘Thank fuck for that,’ said Robbo. ‘Thought for a minute there we might be in trouble.’
50
‘You are,’ said a woman’s voice from the darkness behind them. ‘You all fucking are.’ And Sadie, Poppy, Niki and Kate emerged into the light, all dressed in black and all carrying weapons which they trained on the men.
Connie was the first one to find his voice. ‘Niki,’ he said. ‘What the fuck do you think you’re doing love?’
‘Pointing an Uzi subbie at you love,’ she said. ‘Fully loaded and set on auto. Now all of you take out your guns and throw them over there.’ She gestured with the snub barrel of the gun she held to the darkest corner of the warehouse.
‘You’re having a fucking laugh,’ said Robbo. ‘Kate. Put that stupid gun down, or I’ll knock you spark out.’
‘Those days are over Robbo,’ she replied. ‘No more knocking me about. Now all of you, do what Niki said and lose your weapons.’
‘Or what?’ said Robbo. ‘Just look at this cunt. She can’t open a tin of beans without help, and here she is pointing a gun at us. Blimey, the noise’ll make her cry. Fuck off love, you’ll break a nail.’
‘You didn’t notice you prat, but my nails are gone. And as it happens I like the noise,’ said Kate, and shot him in the thigh, the sound of the weapon sending the birds above into a frenzy of beating wings.
Robbo fell to the floor, a look of surprise on his face as he clutched at the wound which was spraying blood, the slug having gone in and out the other side. ‘You fucking bitch. You shot me!’ he said, unable to comprehend what was happening.
‘Nice shooting Kate,’ said Niki. ‘I always said you were a natural.’
‘Fucking help me,’ said Robbo through gritted teeth.
‘Do something for him,’ said Sadie to Ali. ‘You must know first-aid. But first, the guns, chaps.’
This time they all did as they were told. One by one, they pulled out their weapons and threw them into the corner. ‘You too Robbo,’ said Sadie, and he did the same.
‘Ali,’ said Kate. ‘Do the business. Help him.’
Ali took off his belt and made a tourniquet for Robbo’s thigh. ‘How does he know first aid?’ said Connie.
‘Cos he’s a fucking cozzer,’ said Sadie. ‘How do you think we knew where the meet was?’
‘Do what?’ demanded Connie. ‘You Paki cunt.’
‘Play nice boys,’ said Sadie. ‘Just let us have the money and we’ll be off.’
‘Off where?’ said Joseph speaking for the first time. ‘Poppy honey, what are you doing?’
‘Don’t honey me,’ said Poppy. ‘What were you going to do with your share? Send your bastard to Eton?’
‘What bastard?’ said Joseph, and Poppy lost it. She smashed him round the head with the barrel of her gun and he reeled away, head in hands as blood spurted from his nose.
‘Leave it,’ said Sadie, but it was too late. Poppy hit him again and again, the months of frustration and heartbreak at his
betrayal finally finding an outlet.
Connie saw his chance. He wrenched the gun from Poppy’s hand, turned it on the women, and fired. The bullet hit Poppy in the side, and she spun round from the force of it, a look of disbelief crossing her face as she tumbled slowly to the ground.
It was too much for Niki, seeing her lover lying there. She pulled the trigger on the Uzi and thirty nine millimetre slugs tore into Connie’s body, opening up his chest and stomach so that the bloody contents spilled to the floor next to Poppy.
Niki ran to her friend’s aid, as she lay bleeding on the floor, she threw down the empty gun, and pulled her trusty knife from its scabbard and looked at Joseph. ‘You bastard,’ she said, and lunged at him. But this time he was too quick and produced a small calibre pistol from the back of his belt and fired just as Niki pushed the blade deep into his chest. The sound of the shot was muffled by her body mass, and both hit the deck bleeding profusely, the gun clattering next to their bodies.
It had all happened so quickly there had been no time for Sadie, Kate or Ali to react, and as they stood there in the middle of the carnage and stink of blood and guts, Ali said, ‘Christ, what do we do now?’
‘Get the fuck out of here,’ said Sadie. ‘What else?’
‘It wasn’t supposed to be like this,’ he said.
‘That’s life,’ said Sadie, as she checked on Poppy and Niki. ‘Or death. Depends how you look at it. Niki’s dead, but Poppy’s still breathing. We’ve got to get her out of here.’
‘Will she be all right?’ said Kate.
‘Dunno,’ replied Sadie, pulling off her hoodie and folding it, before pushing it over Poppy’s wound to staunch the blood. ‘How’s Joseph?’
'Brown bread, the bastard,’ replied Kate, as she tugged Niki's knife from Joseph's wound with a look of revulsion, wiped the blade on his jacket, then stuck it in her belt as she kicked his second gun out of sight.
‘I’m going to kill you cunts,’ said Robbo from where he was lying. ‘Definite. You too Ali, you bastard. I should never have trusted you.’
