by Philip Cox
‘Looks like bank safety deposit boxes,’ said Amy as she surveyed the wall of drawers.
‘Or a mortuary,’ said Tom grimly.
He went over to the drawers and pulled at one. Expecting it to be locked, he looked at Amy as it opened, revealing the metal box inside.
‘Be careful,’ urged Amy as Tom lifted the box out of the drawer and took it over to the table. She joined him at the table.
Tom lifted up the box lids to reveal the contents.
He and Amy stared at each other in disbelief.
Chapter Forty-One
Neither Jane nor Sully was having a good morning. The previous evening, they had had an enjoyable meal, the conversation not about Lisa or Tom, but chatting about what each had done that day - Sully’s rugby game and Jane’s shopping trip - and discussing their medium and long term plans. Sully was feeling happy after three-quarters of a bottle of red wine inside him, and was feeling amorous. In bed, he leaned over to Jane and put his arm around her, but she turned away.
‘Not tonight. Not in the mood.’
With a cry of exasperation, he turned away.
The following morning, they spoke to each other, but the conversation was merely civil. No arguments, but each of them spoke only when they needed to. Sully’s headache, no doubt caused by last night’s wine, didn’t help.
After breakfast, Sully looked up from the newspaper as Jane appeared in her coat. ‘Where are you off to?’
‘Shopping.’
‘Shopping? But you did that yesterday.’
‘I want to go over to the Westfield Centre. See what’s there.’
‘Okay. When do you expect to be back?’
‘Not sure. Might have lunch out. Fix yourself something if you get hungry.’
Expecting her to come over and kiss him goodbye, Sully put the paper down. Waste of time: she picked up her bag and left. He shook his head and returned to the Mail on Sunday. He got to the second paragraph of the article he was reading, then looked up. He walked over to the lounge window and looked out. In the distance he could just make out Jane walking to the station. He scratched his chin, feeling the stubble; on Sundays he rarely shaved before midday, if at all. She said she was going shopping at the Westfield Centre: did she mean the Shepherds Bush one, or Stratford? He should have asked. In any case, whichever one she was headed for, she would be a few hours.
Sully returned to his newspaper. He finished the article he was reading, and went back to the window. Looked out again. Then went into the spare bedroom. When working from home, Sully would frequently base himself at the small desk here. The other side of the room was a white cupboard. It was really a fitted wardrobe, presumably installed by the previous owner. Sully never used it. Lisa stored clothes there, used it as a sort of overspill from her own wardrobe, Sully would say. He opened the white doors. A number of dresses and coats were hanging in the main part of the cupboard. On the shelf above the dresses there was a collection of shoes: ten in all, some he had never seen her use. He replaced the shoes exactly in the way he had found them, then knelt down. At the bottom of the cupboard there were three more pairs of shoes. He lifted them up, to reveal a small pile of magazines. He checked the magazines’ covers: they were all over three years old. The magazines were resting on a small black box, A4 size, a few inches thick. He took the box out and sat on the floor with it.
The box contained a pile of photographs. They were mainly of Jane and Lisa, sometimes together, sometimes separately. Sully flicked through the pictures. He frowned: none of them as children. Some of the photographs also included their parents, but in every picture they were at least teenagers. He shrugged; perhaps their parents kept all the childhood ones.
Also in the box was an envelope. Taking it out, he studied it. It was white, but beginning to yellow with age. It had been sealed, but time had eroded the gum, and he was able to open it.
Sully took out the contents: three sheets of paper, folded into four. He scanned the papers first; then, frowning, read them slowly. He shook his head, and then read them again.
He looked up from the papers.
‘You’ve got to be kidding,’ he muttered.
Chapter Forty-Two
‘Money?’ asked Amy. ‘Just boxes of money?’
‘Not just money,’ said Tom. ‘Look. It’s all on one sheet.’ He reached into the box and lifted out a handful of sheets of paper. Each sheet had printed on it the images of €20 notes, front and reverse.
‘I don’t understand. Pictures of money?’
‘Don’t you get it? Look closely; feel the paper.’
‘Just like real money,’ Amy said, rubbing the paper with her fingers.
‘It’s counterfeit,’ Tom said, putting the paper down. ‘Just needs cutting up.’ He looked up and down the drawers on the wall. ‘There must be millions here.’
‘Of these?’
‘Think about it. Six €20 notes on one sheet. That’s €120. There must be thousands of sheets in this box alone.’
‘That’s right. If you buy a pack of five hundred sheets for a printer that’s only this thick.’ Amy held out her thumb and forefinger. So - about three thousand sheets in this box?’
‘This box alone. That’s what? Three hundred and sixty thousand Euros. Remember the denominations in Lisa’s envelope? €500, $100 and £50 notes. I’ll bet there are various denominations here.’
‘So, you’re right; there must be millions here.’
‘If not billions.’
‘What was Lisa doing with those notes, then?’
Tom hurriedly put the paper back in the box. ‘I’ve got an idea what. Look, let’s put this back and get out of here. I think we’ve seen enough.’ He sealed the box and replaced it in the drawer, which he closed. Then grabbed Amy’s hand. ‘Come on; let’s go. Before anybody else arrives.’
They hurried out of the room and along the corridor. Once out in the open air, Tom pulled the steel door closed. There was a click from behind the door and a small red light illuminated on the keypad.
‘Are we going to the police now?’ asked Amy.
‘I think we’re going to have to. Otherwise we’ll be accessories or something. But let’s get out of this place first. I don’t feel safe here, inside those gates.’
They got back into the Ka and Tom turned the ignition and reversed a few yards so he could turn round to get back onto the driveway.
‘Tom!’ Amy called out.
He looked round and saw a large black vehicle approach them from the bend in the driveway.
‘Hell, it’s them!’ Tom cried.
The vehicle - a Chrysler Grand Voyager - skidded to a halt, but not before it slewed ninety degrees on the gravel, effectively cutting off the Ka’s escape route. The front two doors burst open and out jumped the albino from the driver’s seat, and from the passenger side, the shorter, balding man whom they had encountered at Amy’s flat. Both Vine and Carter slowly walked over to the Ka, eyes fixed on its passengers. The rear offside door opened more slowly, and Merchant climbed out, straightening her tweed suit.
‘Oh my God,’ wailed Amy. ‘It’s her.’
Tight-lipped, Tom changed gear from reverse to first.
‘What are you going to do?’ Amy cried.
Tom’s hand remained on the gear stick for a second. Vine and Carter moved closer; slowly, like two predators closing in on their kill.
‘This,’ he said, slamming the Ka into reverse and backing up as far as he could get. The Ford shuddered as they left the gravel and hit one of the bushes surrounding the parking spaces. Vine and Carter quickened their pace; Merchant remained at the Chrysler.
‘Hold on.’ Tom put the car back into first and pressed as hard as he could on the accelerator. He turned the steering wheel to the right; his intention was to get past the Chrysler, something he should be able to do with a car this size, even if it meant scraping past the bushes.
Seeing the Ka start to accelerate, Vine and Carter started running forwards. Carter was
on Tom’s right: he ran at them, presumably attempting to grab the door handle before the car was travelling too fast.
‘Tom - look out!’
Carter was preparing to jump at the Ka; for a fraction of a second, he stood, arms and legs apart, like a rugby player waiting to deflect an opponent. Tom pulled the steering wheel an inch to the left as they neared Carter. The front nearside struck the balding man on his left leg, knocking him sideways out of the way. As they sped towards the Chrysler Tom saw Merchant run to driver’s door. In her wing mirror, Amy could see Carter rolling on the ground, clutching at his leg, and Vine, leaping over him, running back to the Grand Voyager too. Tom had to slow down to safely squeeze past the Chrysler, which he was able to do, but not without clipping his nearside against the Chrysler’s bumper. Amy screamed on the impact.
The Ford scraped against the bushes until Tom was able to turn the wheel back to his left and get the car back onto the driveway. Accelerated again to get back to the gate.
‘Let’s pray we can get past the gate before they can start their car and turn round,’ Tom said grimly, holding tightly onto the steering wheel.
‘How do we get the gate open?’
‘Hopefully it’s automatic to exit. Some sort of sensor. They shut on their own after we had gone through, didn’t they?’
As they approached the gates, Tom slowed down again. ‘Please, please open,’ he whispered.
To his relief the iron gates started to slowly open. He looked in his rear view mirror and saw the Chrysler heading up behind them, fast.
‘We’re not going to make it. Hold on,’ he said again, swinging the steering wheel hard to the right, turning the Ka ninety degrees so it was now facing the woodlands which surrounded the building.
‘Where are you going?’ cried Amy, as Tom started to drive into the woods. This close to the driveway at least, the trees were far enough apart for the Ka; further in, it would not be the case.
‘Trying to get away from those bastards.’
After fifty or sixty feet, however, the Ka could go no further.
‘Come on; out,’ he said, getting out. Amy followed suit. ‘We’ll have to go on foot.’
Again taking Amy by the hand, he half ran, half stumbled through the thickening woodland. He could hear Merchant and Vine shouting something to each other; clearly at least one of them was in pursuit.
‘Where now?’ Amy sobbed, clutching Tom’s hand. She stumbled on some bushes and Tom leaned down to pick her up.
‘Just away from them,’ he answered breathlessly. ‘Either another exit, or maybe we can get back to the car while they’re in the woods.’
They carried on. Five minutes later, Amy leaned against a tree.
‘I need to stop,’ she gasped. ‘Just for a second. Need to get my breath -’
She was interrupted by the sound of a shot ringing out through the woods. Amy screamed as a part of the trunk on which she was leaning exploded, a foot above her head. Tom looked round: he could just make out the form of Vine in the distance.
‘We have to go.’ Tom took her hand again and led her on.
Tom had two ideas as they were running through the woods. One was to keep as far from their pursuers as possible, and definitely out of range. The other was to somehow take a circular route so they would get back to their vehicle. Or the Chrysler if they had to. A little further on, Tom thought he could make out a building. Yes, it was the two-storey place they had just left. The bushes were particularly heavy here. He indicated to Amy to crouch down.
They listened. In the distance they could hear somebody running through the woods; they appeared to be running past. He looked down at Amy: her cheeks were tear-stained.
‘Please,’ she sobbed. ‘Call the police now.’
‘Okay,’ he whispered, and got out his phone. ‘No signal. Where’s yours?’
She fumbled in her bag and got out hers. It was the same.
‘Shit,’ he muttered, looking around. The coast seemed clear.
‘Listen,’ he whispered. ‘Let’s slowly make our way back to the gate. We might be able to get back to the Ka if we can; otherwise they might have left the keys in theirs.’
Remaining in the cover of the woodland, they shadowed the driveway back to the gate. The gates remained half open as they had been earlier, and the Chrysler was still where they had left it, the driver’s door hanging open.
Tom tapped Amy on her arm and pointed. On the other side of the Chrysler, on the edge of the driveway, sat Carter. He was rubbing his stretched-out left leg.
Moving slowly, and taking care where they trod, Tom and Amy crawled to the side of the road. The open driver’s door enabled Tom to see the keys hanging in the ignition.
‘The keys are there,’ he mouthed to Amy. ‘You get in that door. Climb over to the passenger seat.’
Amy nodded and they crept over to the open door. Looking around, Tom helped Amy into the vehicle, and she slid over to the passenger seat. Tom climbed in, closed the door as quietly as he could, and reached down to the keys.
As he touched the key, he felt something circular and metallic touch his neck.
‘Don’t even think about it,’ Ashley Merchant hissed.
Chapter Forty-Three
‘Just don’t move a muscle,’ snarled Merchant. ‘Or you or your girlfriend here cop a bullet each.’
She slid over to the passenger side of the rear seat and opened the window. ‘Vine! Over here!’ she called out.
Tom and Amy heard Vine call something back at Merchant. She swore and dialled a number on her mobile.
‘They’re here,’ she said. ‘At the car. Pick up Carter on the way. He says his leg’s broken.’
Tom and Amy looked at each other.
After a few minutes they could hear sounds from the gravel. Amy looked in her wing mirror and saw Vine helping Carter over to the Chrysler.
‘Right you two,’ said Merchant. ‘Get in the back.’
At gunpoint, Tom and Amy slowly climbed out of the front seats and into the back. Tom sat in the offside seat; Amy got in the nearside door and quickly slid over to him. He put his arm around her. She started when Carter’s face appeared in the doorway. Vine helped him into the nearside seat. Amy moved as close to Tom as she could, as far from Carter as she could.
‘You’ve broken my leg, you little bastard,’ Carter snarled. ‘I’m going to rip your fucking arms off.’
‘Down boy,’ said Merchant as she climbed into the nearside front seat. ‘Your leg’s not broken. If it was, you wouldn’t be able to get in that seat. In any case, he’ll be dealt with. All in good time. Start the engine,’ she said to Vine, who had just climbed in the driver’s seat.
Vine turned the ignition and put the Chrysler into reverse. He moved back six feet or so, to allow the gates to continue opening. As he was changing gear into first, Merchant put her hand on his arm.
‘Wait,’ she said.
They watched as a silver vehicle - a Land Rover, Tom guessed - appeared in the driveway. Not as if it was about to go through the gates, but as if it had pulled in the turning.
‘Isn’t -?’ Vine started to say, but Merchant cut him off.
‘Get us back to the facility. Quick.’
Vine put the Chrysler back into reverse, made a three point turn in the driveway, and headed back to the building. Turning round in his seat, he noticed the gates swing closed. He could just make out the back of the Land Rover the other side of the gates.
‘Where are you taking us?’ asked Tom. ‘Or haven’t you decided yet?’
‘Keep it shut,’ Merchant spat from the front seat. ‘Or I’ll set Carter on you.’
Vine snorted; Tom assumed it was his attempt at laughter.
‘Right, you two. Out.’ Merchant turned back to Tom and Amy and pointed her revolver at them. Holding hands, they stepped out of the Grand Voyager and waited by the door. Merchant walked round the front of the car, still covering them.
‘What are we going to do with them?’ Vine as
ked. ‘And what about him?’ he added, nodding over to Carter who was still sitting in the back.
‘He can stay there for now,’ she said. ‘He’s no use to us like that. I’ll take them inside. You go back to the gates on foot and check that - you know...’
Nodding to Merchant, Vine started to walk back to the gates. ‘Wanker,’ he muttered at Carter as he walked past the Chrysler.
‘Right. Inside, you two,’ said Merchant. ‘And don’t try anything. I’m a good shot with this.’ She took them over to the doors. ‘You two know the code,’ she said. ‘Open the door.’
Tom keyed the code in and waited for the green light and the doors to open.
‘Inside now,’ said Merchant. ‘Right down the corridor. You know the way.’
Tom and Amy led her down the corridor, back into the huge room. They stopped and stood by the table where previously Tom had opened the metal box.
‘Keep going,’ she said, waving the gun over to a door in the corner of the room. ‘Through that door.’
Tom opened the door and he and Amy stepped through it, into another corridor. As with the route from the main doors, lights flickered on as they made their way down this passage.
‘Into the room marked One,’ Merchant snapped.
There were three doors on their right, marked Three, Two and One. Tom opened the door to Room One. It was like a doctor’s waiting room with two sets of couch-like chairs and a low table.
‘More comfortable than I’d like,’ said Merchant standing in the doorway. ‘But you won’t be able to get away this time.’
‘Which one of you was it?’ asked Tom.
Merchant looked at him puzzled. ‘Which one of us what?’
‘Killed my wife?’
‘Your wife? What are you talking about?’
‘My ex-wife. Lisa.’
Merchant looked at him blankly for a moment, and then the penny dropped. ‘So that’s who you are. And there were we thinking you were with this little bitch here.’
‘How do you know I’m not?’
Merchant shook her head. ‘I don’t really give a shit who you are. All I know is you’ve both caused us a lot of bother. Until now. So you’re going to have to wait here until I decide what I do with you.’
