One Night, page 21
“Yeah, they’ll come for it. The job was arranged by someone, funded by someone and they’ll want the cash.”
“But you don’t know who it is. Who you did the job for?”
“No, that’s not how it works. Safer that way I guess. For them at least. Fuller is the only one who has all the pieces. The planner.”
They walked on in silence. Joel thought about Fuller, wondered what had happened to him after the job went bad. He liked the guy, admired him, and he hoped that he hadn’t caught too much flak for everything that had gone wrong.
They walked round a bend in the road and there was the entrance to the industrial estate. Joel could see the usual collection of local businesses, a plumbers merchants, an electricians and a driving school. Harry’s Jag was parked outside a bare unit that lacked the cheap looking signage that the others had.
"Thank fuck for that," said Eve when she saw the car. She had been sure this was where Harry would come but that wasn't the same as knowing.
Joel looked at his watch. It was probably half an hour since they’d left the park. If Matty and his friends were going to alert Harry that Joel was around then they would have done it straight away over the phone. The fact that the car was there meant they hadn’t which is what Joel had expected. They wouldn’t want their boss to know that they’d failed, or that they’d attacked his niece. Better to forget the whole thing had ever happened and hope that he didn’t find out.
Joel examined Harry's office. The few security lights dotted around the complex provided enough light to make out the important details. It was the kind of low, cheaply built industrial unit that had sprung up all over the country in the 80s and 90s. Venetian blinds were pulled down over the two windows at the front but he could see slivers of light seeping through them. The door between the windows was shut and there was no way to tell if it was locked or not. Four men in there, he thought, and the money. He couldn’t take on all four of them, especially not in a confined space like the office, even with Eve's help that wasn't an option. He needed to split them up somehow.
"What's it like in there?" he said to her. "The layout."
She told him that the door led into a reception area with the main office off it. "There's a toilet too, but I don't remember which of the rooms that's off."
"Can you get out the back?"
Eve thought about it, casting her mind back through the years. "I don't think there's a door but there are definitely windows."
"And what's back there."
"Behind the building? Waste ground I think. They've been talking about building on it for years but they've never gotten it together."
Joel’s eyes settled on Harry's car and he had a thought. "Your uncle loves that bloody Jag of his I expect."
"God yes," said Eve. "More than anything."
"Okay," Joel said. Then he told her what they were going to do.
Chapter Fifty One
Harry was drinking a coffee. He'd put the kettle on as soon as they'd walked into the office, spooned instant granules into a mug and added some milk from the fridge. He'd given the milk a sniff first. It was only a day old so he knew it would be okay but it was one of those habits from childhood he'd never been able to shake. Too many times his mum had let milk go sour in the fridge and he and his brother had ended up with it on their cereal.
Poor old Max, he had thought as he stood there remembering his brother, it still sickened him how things had ended up.
Then he’d put the thought out of his head, this was no time for moping over the past. The coming morning was going to be an important one for him. A glorious one.
Harry had made his coffee while the guys poured and drank his whiskey. He didn't begrudge them a drink as long as they didn't take the piss. It had been a long night and a successful one. Harry wanted to keep alert though. He had an important phone call to make.
When his coffee was half drunk he pulled his phone out.
"You lot keep it down for a bit," he said and dialled.
The phone was picked up straight away. "Harry, I take it you've got good news for me."
Harry nodded and then realised he had to speak as well. He was the king of Southend but that meant nothing to the big boys from London and talking to them always made him nervous. Things were so much easier when they were confined to his end of the A13. Still, when he'd got that phone call the day before he'd seen the opportunity in it. The chance to finally make a name for himself with the people who really mattered.
"Yes," he said quietly. "Yes I have."
His voice rose as his confidence grew. "The money's right here in my office." He looked over at the bag and smiled.
There was a noise from outside, he wasn't sure what, a low banging sound like a car door closing. Harry stopped talking to listen in case it came again and missed what the man on the other end of the phone said back to him. There was a pause and then the voice spoke again.
“I said we’ll be there in a couple of hours.”
“Okay,” said Harry. The sooner he was shot of the money the better. “I’ll see you then.” He gave the address of the office and hung up the phone.
His ears were still pricked up waiting for the noise to repeat.
“Did you hear that?” he said. “From outside?”
He looked at the men who worked for him, sitting around looking bored. One of them reading the newspaper, the others playing cards.
"For fuck's sake did you hear it?" he said again.
The one reading the paper folded it. "I didn't hear anything, Harry. Not a peep."
Harry was walking towards the window to look out of it when the car alarm went off. He ran to it then, pulling two of the slats of the blinds apart and staring out.
“Fuck, my fucking car,” he sprinted across the room and out into the reception area, tearing open the door to the outside world and staring out in disbelief. Part of him had hoped he’d be greeted with a different view to the one he’d seen through the window but he wasn’t. His car was there, alarm sounding, lights flashing, rolling slowly away from him down the slight incline that ran out of the industrial park and to the road. Harry didn’t hesitate, didn’t think. All he saw was that car slowly drifting away from him. He ran.
As he sprinted towards it he remembered the day he’d driven it off the lot. That feeling of pride. The salesman, Merryweather his name was, Harry still remembered that, had shook his hand when the sealed the deal and said to him. “That’s a man’s car you’ve got there. The car of a man who is somebody.”
It hadn’t really sunk in until he was in it with his hands on the wheel though. A Jaguar, he was driving a fucking Jaguar. It made every sacrifice he’d made to get where he was seem worthwhile. Everything he’d done that had made him wake up in the middle of the night. Even what had happened to Max. Even that. Because he was somebody. He was finally the man his mum had always told him he needed to be.
Behind him he heard shouting and footsteps. He recognised the voice of two of his guys, they were good men. Loyal.
He reached the back of the car and slapped a hand on the boot. There was nothing for him to grab hold of though and his fingers slipped off the cold gleaming metal. He realised that even if he had managed to hold onto something he wouldn’t be able to stop the car. This wasn’t a bloody mini, it weighed a fucking tonne. The only way he was going to stop it was from the driver’s seat.
He dodged to the right side and ran around the back corner of the car. It was moving slowly but picking up speed with every foot. The road was probably twenty feet away and the bonnet was pointing straight at it. Up ahead Harry saw a lorry drive past, some trucker making an early start. He hated to think what the lorry would have done to his car.
The alarm was still sounding, cutting through the night and through his eardrums, invading his head like a knife. One of the guys was close behind him, he couldn’t tell which one but he could hear their heavy breathing in the moments of silence between the whoops of the alarm. The breathing was almost as heavy as his own. He wasn’t built for this kind of exertion. He was old, he realised, an old man with only the car to show for his life. No wife, no children, just the car that was even now trying to get away from him.
He got level with the rear door, his heart hammering in his chest, and pushed on. There was maybe fifteen feet before the bonnet of the car edged out into the road. Plenty of time, he thought. His hand reached forward and tried for the handle of the driver’s door, his fingers just missing it. He gave two great strides and tried again and this time he made it, fingers slipping under the lip of the handle and pulling it up. It moved but didn’t click and he realised the doors were locked.
Someone was running next to him now and he could hear the others behind. He suddenly realised their mistake and wanted to shout at them to stop and go back but he couldn’t find the breath to do it. He knew he should stop, leave the car to run on and head back to the office but he couldn’t bring himself to, couldn’t abandon the Jag. Instead he thrust his hand into his trouser pocket and found the keys, pressing the button to unlock the car.
The alarm stopped and in the silence that followed Harry heard his heart beating in his ears. His hand found the door handle again and pulled it up. The door swung open and he let it go, letting it open fully before he threw himself into the front seat. The underside of the steering wheel bashed his legs but he ignored it, pushing his foot down into the foot well, finding the brake pedal. He pushed it, feeling the reassuring pressure of it back against his foot as it sank to the floor.
The car stopped six feet from the road. He’d halted it easily, in plenty of time, but he realised now what a hollow victory that was.
Panting he rested his head on the steering wheel, trying to get enough breath back to speak.
“Who is in the office?” he said, lifting his head and looking at the three faces staring in at him. “Who is in the fucking office?” He knew the answer though. The safe man. And probably his treacherous fucking niece too.
Chapter Fifty Two
Eve had been right about the windows at the back, big panes of glass overlooking nothing but darkness. They didn't open, so Joel found himself swinging the bag at them, using it as a tool to smash the glass out. It occurred to him as he did it that he hadn’t spent a penny of the cash yet. That as money it had done him no good at all. As an object it had proved pretty useful though, a solid weight that he could use as a weapon or a tool. What would he spend it all on? He had no idea, but it was enough that he could start a new life. He just hoped he could find a way to make Eve part of that.
He didn't know how much time they had but he guessed it wasn't long. The noise of the car alarm had stopped a minute ago and he expected Harry and his men to come barrelling back into the office at any moment. With Eve’s help he’d pushed the reception desk up against the door but it wouldn’t hold them for long, not with four of them on the other side of the door.
The glass had shattered but not cleanly, shards of it still clung determinedly to the window frame. Joel and Eve worked together, him using the bag, her the bottom of the whiskey bottle Harry's men had been drinking from. When they’d cleared it all he gestured to her. She hesitated.
“Just go,” he said. “I need to pass the bag down to you.” She nodded and climbed out. The sill was about three feet from the floor on the inside of the office but the drop on the outside was nearer five. She swung her legs over, lowered them and then let go, dropping the last two feet. The ground was uneven and she stumbled when she landed, then found her footing.
“Okay,” she called quietly, and he lowered the bag down to her. She took it in her arms, surprised by the weight of it, and then placed it carefully on the ground, as if the value of it made it fragile. It was the first time she’d held it, all that money. She looked back up at him, saw that he was lifting himself to come through the window too. And then she heard the noise, the crash of a the door slamming into the desk they’d pushed against it and the sound of her uncle’s angry, ugly shouting voice.
She saw Joel looking back at the door as another crash reverberated through the air. For a moment she was worried he would turn back, make a stand of some kind. He didn’t.
“Go,” he shouted as he swung his legs over the sill and dropped easily to the ground.
There was another crash from the office and then Harry’s voice came again, louder this time.
Eve didn’t run. She stood there and waited for Joel to pick up the bag and then she ran with him.
“We’ve done this a lot tonight,” she said. “It’s our thing. Running away from violence. So romantic.”
Joel laughed.
Behind them Harry shouted from the window. "You won't get away. Wherever you go I'll find you. This is my town!"
Eve looked back and saw one of Harry's men climbing out of the window, he landed heavily and set off after them.
Joel had seen too. The plan had seemed a good one when he'd laid it out for her earlier but now, running with the weight of the bag on his shoulder again he felt so tired that doubt started to creep in. The ground they were running on was uneven and littered with rubbish, cans and bottles and bricks and God knew what else. And it was dark, darker with every step as they moved away from the office and the street beyond it. It would only take one misstep to turn an ankle or worse. If that happened it was all over.
"Run behind me," he said to Eve. "Try and step where I step."
She understood immediately and fell back, matching his pace a couple of feet behind him.
Joel listened to her breathing and felt a warmth rising inside him. He didn't know how it had happened but he couldn't question it. He loved her.
He glanced back and felt that warmth increasing, threatening to overwhelm him. He needed to keep his senses, not lose them as he seemed to whenever he looked at her. Behind her he could see the two men Harry had sent, silhouetted against the lights from the office. Why only two? he wondered. Why not three? Why had Harry not followed them too? It was almost as if he was hedging his bets. As if he had something else up his sleeve. He was there, standing at the window with his hand in his oily hair and the third of his henchmen standing next to him. They looked like a couple of football fans watching their team play. Like they were standing on the touchline as the game approached full time.
Joel looked forward again, checking the ground in front of him. It was a dark blur but here and there darker shapes stood out against the night and he was able to avoid them. He looked back again. The men chasing them were no closer than they had been, probably twenty yards back. Harry and the other man were gone.
He turned his eyes forward again in time to see a rock he hadn’t seen from further away, its smooth surface making it harder to spot. He dodged to the left and avoided it, heard Eve still close behind him. She’d told him that on the far side of the waste ground they should be able to get to a road that would then lead them back to the van. All they had to do was make it there safely and they had it all. The money and the transport they needed to get out of the town. They hadn’t talked about what happened after that. If she would go with him or stay. He knew what he wanted but he also knew it wasn’t as simple as that. With the amount of money there was in the bag on his back someone would be looking for him wherever he went in the world. He needed the money to get away but as long as they thought he was out there with it he’d always be looking over his shoulder. That was no life for Eve.
Up ahead he could see the fence, standing out against the street lights behind it. Probably another thirty yards. He looked back. She was still with him. The men behind had closed the gap a little but not by too much. He thought they still had enough of a lead to get to the fence and over it. They just had to keep going. Keep up the pace. The bag was getting heavy again but he could do it. He would do it.
He looked at the fence and willed himself towards it. One foot after another treading on the uneven ground and propelling him forward. He checked the ground again, saw another big stone and dodged it easily, sidestepping around it. He didn’t see the bottle, the dusty brown glass camouflaged against the dirty ground. His right leg was stretched out sideways to avoid the rock and he trod squarely on it. The bottle rolled to the side under the sole of his boot and he skidded sideways. If he hadn’t had the bag on his shoulder he might have kept upright but the extra weight of it unbalanced him. He felt himself going and knew he couldn’t stop the fall. The best he could hope for was to land without hurting himself.
As he fell he heard a gasp from Eve and behind her a whoop of joy from one of Harry’s men.
Chapter Fifty Three
The ground came up hard and smacked him in the side like it was a car broadsiding him or the swinging fist of a heavyweight. He’d managed to get his arm out a little, enough so his head didn’t hit the dirt as hard as it might have, it still bounced on the end of his neck though, the weight of it and the momentum carrying it down and driving his temple into the ground hard enough to leave a dent in the cold earth. His elbow was trapped between the ground and his ribs, the hard angular bone poking into his side and knocking the wind out of him. Before he had even had time to get his breath back the throbbing started in his ankle, the damage from the awkward slip already sending messages up his leg to his brain. I’m not going to be doing much more running on that tonight, he thought.
He was somehow facing back towards the office and could see the two men running at him through the bright patches that were swimming around in his vision. One of the men had pulled out a torch and was using it to light their way. The beam played over the ground in front of them, occasionally flicking up to cast its light on Joel. The harsh halogen bulb dazzled him, adding more stars to the ones that were still swarming in front of him from the fall.
