by Tony McHale
On the landing he looked for the Gothic Room. A sign indicated he should go left. He turned a corner and there it was.
Last chance to turn round.
But he knew that wasn’t going to happen. He’d come too far in so many ways. His hand reached out and knocked on the old wooden door. He hadn’t noticed it was slightly ajar and the force of the knock swung it open, creaking like the stairs. Charlie stepped cautiously into the room. A room that was adorned with black. Black flocked wallpaper, a stand up mirror with a black surround, black trimmed bedside lights, which gave off a warm glow and a black bed with a black bedcover.
Charlie stood there – not moving. He turned so his back wasn’t to the door, fearful of an attack from behind.
Then something stirred. He turned back quickly.
Someone was in the bed.
He started to back out of the room, when Devika, clutching the silk sheet to her, sat up in bed.
“Who did you expect Dracula?”
With that Devika pulled back the rest of the bedclothes to reveal she was wearing a black see through bra, black see through knickers and a tiny black suspender belt that was holding up her sheer black stockings. Charlie was guessing Agent Provocateur, but he really didn’t care. He moved towards the bed whilst at the same as time taking off his jacket. He leant towards her and kissed her just as he heard a voice.
“I’ll just put this on the side, shall I?”
It was room service in the shape of an eighteen-year-old student who was trying to earn money to pay for her education. She was carrying an ice bucket that contained a bottle of champagne. Charlie was thrown for a moment, but Devika seemed unperturbed. People seeing her half naked came with the job.
“Forgot I’d ordered champagne,” Devika said.
Charlie tipped the girl two-pound coins who thanked him and left, as Devika cracked open the bottle of champagne. They both sipped it; she demanded he got naked, and he demanded she didn’t.
He kissed her breasts through the bra, his mouth still cold from the champagne. Slowly, very slowly, almost as if they were teenagers they explored each other’s bodies and then when they could control themselves no more they made love, climaxing together as he held her from behind and they watched each other in the mirror.
They laid there for some time as they finished the champagne and eventually at three in the morning, when all was quiet they walked along the quayside eventually making love again, this time definitely like teenagers up against the wall of the Lifeboat Station.
It wasn’t until they were walking back to the hotel that either of them really talked. Devika explaining she’d grown more and more concerned about Charlie’s continuing absence. Even though she spoke to Charlie it wasn’t the same as being with him. So she’d made the plan to surprise him. She thought it had worked really well and Charlie didn’t argue.
For his part Charlie told her about the new development concerning the envelope. He explained how it was being kept at Shaw and Sherman’s offices and that’s where it looked like it was going to stay. Devika asked him one question, “Do you really think it’s important?”
His reply was simple and honest, “Yes – I think it’s important.”
They walked on a little further and just before they were about to let themselves back into the hotel Devika turned to him and said, “Then we’ll have to break in, we’ll have to steal the envelope. It’s the only way.”
“You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“I need you back in London, this is too far to travel for decent sex, and if this envelope can sort this out … then I’m deadly serious.”
They went back into the hotel to plan how they were going to become burglars.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Devika was sitting in the outer office of Shaw and Sherman’s. The micro-mini which she’d been asked to wear by some young British designer, showed one of the reasons she’d made the grade as a model. The legal secretaries, who were busy either preparing documents or taking calls, couldn’t resist darting the odd glance in Devika’s direction. They knew who she was. Someone even had a current magazine in which she was modelling the latest in Jenny Packham’s evening wear.
“If you’d like to come this way Miss Bahl,” a pretty little helper in a very unflattering patterned dress, with flat shoes was indicating an office which had the name Graham Shaw on it, followed by a number of letters.
Devika smiled as she stood up and walked past the helper, who she towered above like something from Greek mythology. The office was the antipathy to Elaine O’Hara’s office. There was a modern glass desk with items methodically placed on the top and generally very little clutter. Graham Shaw was in his early sixties, chalk striped grey suit and a pinstriped shirt with a white collar and blue tie. He had steel grey hair swept back and sported a little goatee beard the same colour as his hair. He stood as Devika came into the room.
“Please …have a seat,” Shaw indicated a leather sofa just by the door.
“Thank-you,” answered Devika as she elegantly slid onto the sofa. Shaw, whilst trying not to make it obvious he was eyeing up Devika’s cleavage and legs, pulled a hardback chair from in front of his desk to sit opposite her.
“So what can we do for you?” was Shaw’s unimaginative, but direct opening.
“I’m a model …” Devika began....
“Yes, I know. I have a fashion conscious young girlfriend, so I see ... your face is in magazines quite a lot.”
Devika knew the ‘young’ reference was aimed at impressing her – it didn’t.
“Well I’m going to be doing a photo shoot here in a few weeks time and I have some legal documents I need witnessing and then held for safe keeping until I go back to London.”
“What sort of documents?”
“They’re confidential, but I do need my signature witnessing by someone in the legal profession and the papers do need to be kept safely. Is that something you would be able to accommodate?”
“Absolutely … no problem.”
“You have a safe, do you?”
“Yes … we have our own safe.”
“I need to see it.”
“The safe?”
“Yes. Been told untruths comes with the job.”
“Okay - sure,” said Shaw unable to take his eyes off of her.
He stood up and opened the door guiding Devika back into the main office. Shaw moved to one of the helper’s desks, the helper with the patterned dress.
“Excuse me Wendy.”
Wendy keeping on her seat, just pushed her chair away and it rolled back on its very smooth casters, it was obviously something she was used to doing. Shaw indicated to Devika a large Chubb safe, tucked away under the desk. It was so large Devika wondered how Wendy managed to get her legs under there whilst seated on her chair. Being small was clearly an advantage and maybe the reason that Wendy kept her job.
“You open it with a key, not a combination,” observed Devika.
“That’s correct.”
“Isn’t it a bit dangerous … anybody could get hold of it?”
“No,” was Shaw’s immediate reply. “I’m the only person with the key, that way there’s no confusion.”
“Well that all seems very positive. I just needed to check things out for myself, I hope you understand.”
“Completely … proving whatever comes with the job,” replied Shaw as if he were chatting her up at some singles bar.
Devika pleased with what she considered a job well done was about to leave the office when Elaine O’Hara came in. Devika knew from the moment she saw Elaine’s entrance it wasn’t just a coincidence. This entrance had purpose.
“Morning,” Elaine said politely.
“Morning,” replied Devika. And having had Charlie describe her, she knew exac
tly who Elaine was.
“I heard we had a celebrity in our midst.”
“Not really,” Devika replied modestly.
“So how’s your boyfriend?”
“Sorry?”
“Charlie Ashton. I met him recently.”
Devika was hoping the shock she was feeling, wasn’t evident to the employees of Shaw and Sherman’s. Charlie and she had discussed the possibility that the solicitors might make the connection between the two of them, but then dismissed it as highly unlikely. But even if they did make the connection it was logical that Charlie would recommend the firm he knew.
“You must be Helen …” This was a deliberate mistake by Devika.
“Elaine …”
“That’s right Elaine … He said you’d been very helpful.”
“Just doing our job.”
Devika and Elaine small talked for a couple of minutes more, before Devika made her excuses and left.
Before she was out of the building Elaine had returned to her office and picked up her phone. She dialled a number that she had written on a pad on her desk. The call was answered.
“Superintendent Naylor’s office please.”
Naylor took the call himself. After he discovered that Charlie had been to the police station, ‘nosing around’ as he called it, Naylor had decided to keep an eye on things. When the plain-clothes officer who had been following him reported his visit to Shaw and Sherman’s Solicitors, Naylor had put a call in to Elaine O’Hara. She wasn’t exactly a family friend, but he had met her a couple of times. Elaine had told him that Charlie had been enquiring about The Will and the envelope that they have in their safe keeping. When Naylor asked if he could see the envelope she simply said of course he could, if he produced a warrant. Naylor had said it wasn’t that important, but asked her to keep him informed if she had any more visits from the Ashton family or friends. Hence Elaine’s phone call.
Naylor listened as Elaine told her about Devika’s requests and thanked Elaine for the call.
After he’d hung up on her, Naylor was undecided what to do. He knew what he should do – he should let events take their course, but Naylor had been born and raised in Beck le Street and at the moment he was playing a double-headed game. Firstly he was a high-ranking police officer and he wanted to apprehend a murderer and he wanted the public to see that it was his effort that had achieved that conviction. Secondly, he wanted the villagers to believe that he was allowing them to sort out their own problems. Naylor’s position in the police force enabled them to continue their own rule of law with the minimum of interference and at times he even helped them with their localised vigilantism. He knew the village had doled out its own form of justice for years, but this was the first time there had been a murder, which naturally put a different slant on the situation. He believed given the time and space, the villagers would eventually hand him the killer on a plate and the last thing they needed was Charlie Ashton poking his nose in where it wasn’t wanted. The killer he believed to be an opportunistic outsider. They probably planned to rob The Black Dog, but things went wrong. The villagers would work that out without Charlie’s interference. His problems with his parents had nothing to do with this.
Naylor picked up the phone. It was about time Charlie Ashton was scared off.
* * * * *
Devika met Charlie back in the bar at the Marine Hotel. They ordered lunch and over a couple of salads, Devika relayed the details of her visit to Shaw and Sherman’s. It seemed to her for them to get hold of this sacred envelope then they would need to first get the key that Graham Shaw had in his possession, then break into the solicitor’s offices, open the safe and remove the envelope. They both knew this was a big ask as neither of them had any experience in burglary. Devika was sure that some Uni somewhere would now do a degree in “burgling and grifting,” they did degrees in everything else, but unfortunately they didn’t have time to research that right now.
As the problem of how to acquire the envelope heightened, so their resolve not to drink at lunchtime weakened. Wine was ordered and consumed in some quantity, but no solutions seemed forthcoming. The best one by far was Charlie’s idea of mugging Shaw and then holding him captive while they broke into the offices, but it did seem a bit extreme, not to mention alcohol inspired.
Desperate for ideas Charlie picked up a copy of the Daily Mail that was lying on the next table and started to thumb his way through it. One of the headlines read:
BBC CAUGHT OUT WITH NEW GAME SHOW.
The article was all about the new BBC primetime show Caught On The Hop hosted by Genesis Brown that had promised to give away top prize money of half a million pounds. So far they’d recorded three shows and someone in each show had actually won the top prize. The journalist was questioning whether this was the right way to spend licence fee payers money, whilst having to grudgingly admit the show was actually rather good, especially the ‘joker’ round which was ‘edge of the seat stuff.’
Devika was pleased for Genesis and pleased that Charlie had chosen not to use the photos. Then Devika remembered something Genesis had told her. Something about her ex-boyfriend being a burglar. Devika picked up her phone and started to punch in the numbers whilst trying to recall Genesis’s unequivocal offer. She said something like … “ I will do anything for you two … anything. Anything.”
No – that wasn’t something like, that was what she’d actually said.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“How long’s it been?” asked Devika looking at the twenty something youth sitting there sipping his orange juice. There were no tattoos, no piercings, no jeans hanging round his arse, just a smart young man dressed in expensive, tasteful designer trousers and a tight fitting shirt. His image was more of a young city worker relaxing than a full-time thief.
“Two years three hundred and nine days …”
They were sitting in the stalls bar at the Theatre Royal Nottingham, which was busy with theatregoers getting their interval drinks before being called back to the second act of Bloodbath The Musical; a new musical doing the rounds.
The meeting place was a surprise to both Charlie and Devika. They were guessing they would meet Justin in some dingy pub or snooker hall. Isn’t that where you do business with villains? The Theatre Royal was Justin’s choice; presumably because this was the last place the law would expect a prospective burglary to be planned.
“So this is a waste of time,” stated Charlie.
“Maybe not.”
“You’ve been straight for nearly three years and you’re willing to risk that record for something we don’t even know if it’s worth it.
“Genesis was very insistent I helped you out. So here I am.”
“I don’t get it,” said a puzzled Devika.
“It’s simple. Me and Genesis used to be an item. Last time I was inside she broke it off with me … this was before she went on Angel Delight. She said she’d never get back with me as long as I was a thief. She couldn’t stand the thought of the rest of her life never knowing when the police were going to come knocking.”
“I get that,” said Devika glancing at Charlie. Charlie took the look as a warning.
“Genesis seems a bit cookie, but she’s as smart as they come. She said I had to be straight for three years, then she’d think about us going out again.”
“And it’s been two years three hundred and nine days …” confirmed Charlie.
“Yeah.”
“So you’re not going to want to do this job then?”
“Genesis said I had to. She said if I did it and didn’t get caught, then she would knock off the remaining time.”
Charlie let out a little laugh at the mixed up logic.
“What if you get caught?” asked Devika starting to feel sorry for the guy.“Then I’ll have to do another three years.”
&n
bsp; “What? That’s not fair,” Devika was truly indignant.
“What’s a man to do? I don’t have a choice.”
Here was a man truly in love and Charlie didn’t want to be responsible for him doing time and losing the love of his life in one fell swoop.
“Look if this is impossible, then you have to say,” said Charlie. “I’ll tell Genesis it’s all off and you’ll be back to square one. Or if you just don’t want to risk it – same thing applies.”
“Well … we’ll see. What’s the job?” asked Justin.
Justin listened as Charlie explained the situation and Devika waited for the moment he said he couldn’t do it.
“Okay … I can do that. I’ll need one of you to drive.” This was the succinct but surprising response Justin had to Charlie’s elucidation of the circumstances. Charlie was indeed surprised and unknowingly had had a swift lesson in anti-stereotyping.
Devika didn’t waste any time, “When? When can you do it?”
“I’m owed a couple of days, so how about next Tuesday and Wednesday. I’ll come over early Tuesday morning, plan it, do it Tuesday night, then it gives me Wednesday to catch up with my sleep.” It sounded like he was planning a couple of days away playing golf, not that he was about to break into a solicitors and rob their safe.
“Perfect for us … next Tuesday it is.”
“Two things. You have to find out where this bloke lives …”
“Okay … we will do,” was Devika’s positive reply, whilst not being sure how they’d do it, but believing they would.
“And the other thing is do we know if the offices are alarmed?”
“Don’t know,” Devika had to admit.
“Can we find out.”
“Yeah – somehow.”
“Also we shouldn’t be seen together on that day. I’ll do some scouting around and then we’ll need to meet up about ten at night. Go through what you have. Then I’ll just need the car ticking over when I come out … okay?”
