by Adam Maxwell
Zoe whimpered and puked all over the pavement.
25th September
* * *
2 1/2 weeks to go
* * *
24 hours to go…
Chapter 39
Lucas dry heaved then winced, the noise playing havoc with the hammering in his head. He glanced at his car keys, then took his mobile out and called a taxi. If he was going to puke it would be in someone else’s car.
He ditched the taxi about a mile up the road, partially to keep their secret overground lair hidden but mostly for the fresh air. He wanted the wind to blow on him and take the cobwebs with it. Unfortunately it was triggering some sort of migraine-level headache. He decided to stop when he drew level with a lamppost and placed his left hand against the cold, smooth metal and his right hand on his knee. Bending forward looking at his shoes seemed to do some good so he resolved to stay like that for a while.
Flashes of yesterday hammered past as he closed his eyes. The casino. The money. All that money. Gone. Most of it gone. And Katie. And Violet. And the paintings. And the bombs.
And the shots. And the pints. And the cocktails. And Big Terry.
Lucas gagged again. There was nothing left in his stomach, that much he knew, but his body was trying to reject itself. Turn itself inside out. Maybe that was a better way to go than what Violet was leading them into.
Last night, after the others had gone, after Barry and Katie had bundled Zoe into a taxi, Violet had asked Lucas to hang back. To go with her. So the pair of them got into a second taxi and went to a motorway service station. Got coffee. Talked about Big Terry.
Lucas thought she was going to confront him about the ten grand in his pocket. Confront him about... well, he was hungover now and felt slightly depressed. Guilty. What was he doing?
But she didn’t know about the skim. So they talked about the job. The confrontation with Big Terry and the consequences. He liked the way Violet talked. And when she was drunk she talked in circles. Talking about Big Terry. And her ex-boyfriend Percy.
But after a while the circles got smaller and smaller and she talked herself out. And he thought that was it. They stared out of the window at the sporadic cars that were hurtling past.
“Thanks Lucas,” she had said. And touched his hand.
Lucas stared at his hand now, resting on his knee, and thought he might have to be sick.
Even now he wasn’t entirely sure if it was the hangover or the fear of being beaten to death by a psychopathic dwarf.
*
“So did you and Lucas...” Barry nudged Violet with his elbow and gave a little cheeky whistle.
“Did we what? Do an impersonation of a chaffinch?” asked Violet. At the request of Zoe she had turned out most of the lights in the warehouse, but through the office window she could make out the clock. Five to eleven.
“No,” said Barry, placing a cup of something strong and black in front of her. “I’m asking did you two... you know...?” Barry made a sound like the horn on a clown’s car.
Katie stood in the middle of the warehouse with her hands in the air and a very weary look on her face while Zoe fixed some sort of corset-type affair around her waist. Neither Zoe nor Katie spoke, and the effect was made all the more bizarre by the fact that Zoe wore a dark purple dressing gown, large sunglasses and oversized slippers with bunny faces, complete with overhanging ears.
Barry pointed at the two of them then looked back to Violet, raised his eyebrows and shrugged. “Bit of a girly makeover then? We got time for that?” Then he remembered what he was talking about a moment ago and drew breath to speak.
Violet lifted her index finger and placed it over his mouth. “I didn’t screw him, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Spoilsport,” said Barry through Violet’s finger.
“He should be so lucky,” Violet laughed. “I wouldn’t normally fraternise with the staff.” Violet opened her eyes wide and pushed her chest out. She stared at Barry and kept her finger on his mouth. “You have awakened a passion in me that I thought had long died. You...” she paused and took a long, deep breath. “Go and get me some milk for this tea, you silly arse.”
Barry stood up. As he did, the door opened and in stepped Lucas.
“Big Terry’s got at least two cars watching this industrial estate, you know?” he said, looking left and right outside before quietly closing the door.
“Yeah,” said Barry. “He’s had people on and off watching all of us. Cuppa?”
“Please,” said Lucas, walking past the performance-art makeover that Zoe and Katie were still engrossed in.
“Am I actually awake?” he said as he passed Zoe, looking her up and down. “The sunglasses, I’m with you. The dressing gown, I understand. But the bunny slippers? Why bunny slippers?”
Zoe winced as she turned her head to face him. She lifted the sunglasses and balanced them on top of her head. “Because fuck you is why,” she said before lowering the sunglasses once more and turning back to adjust whatever it was she was putting on Katie.
“Coffee,” said Barry, returning with a cracked cup. “And milk,” he said to Violet, handing her a plastic bottle.
Violet nodded her appreciation and sloshed some milk into the tea.
“Right,” she said firmly. “Stop pissing around playing dress up, you two.”
Zoe hissed in response and Barry and Lucas laughed.
“You too, Sleepy and Dopey.” Violet got to her feet and swigged a mouthful of tea. “In the office. Now.”
Chapter 40
The clock in the office ticked surprisingly loudly, but none of the crew were paying it any mind as it scraped past eleven in the morning. Violet laid out the forgery of the painting on the desk which she had dragged to the middle of the floor.
“So this is it then?” said Barry, squinting at the signature in the corner of the canvas.
“This is, as you say, it,” confirmed Violet. “From the surveillance Zoe gathered...”
Zoe had retreated and was now sitting on the comfortable chair that usually sat at the owner’s side of the desk. She nodded her head forward an infinitely small amount.
“...it would appear that Lucas’ forger friend has a damn sight more artistic skill than he has social skills,” Violet continued. Lucas nodded and perched himself on the only other chair in the office. “In fact, both copies he made are completely indistinguishable from the real thing. I really hate to admire the handiwork of that goon but...”
“I’ll never breathe a word,” Lucas smiled.
Katie coughed. Everyone looked at her. She shuffled slightly.
“We’ve been planning this for weeks and–”
“Seriously Violet,” said Barry. “We could walk away. We could go to ground. Leave Kilchester. There’s no shame in that. Big Terry wouldn’t find us.”
Everyone stared. Barry saying out loud what they had all thought about, however fleetingly.
Violet slowly put her cup of tea down on top of a filing cabinet.
“Here we are,” Violet went on. “Dragging ourselves into work at the crack of noon. Hungover. Beaten down by a tribe of arseholes. Doesn’t it make you feel alive?” Violet laughed her staccato laugh, this morning sounding more like the death rattle of a terminally ill car exhaust. “Yesterday we had a plan. Yesterday–”
“Yesterday the job went to shit and then we got hijacked by a three foot high loony,” Barry snapped.
Violet was still staring at the mug of tea she had placed on the filing cabinet.
“Yesterday we ripped off a casino with virtually no planning. Yesterday you lot showed me why I’d picked you for this job.” Violet was slowly raising her gaze and slowly raising her voice and Barry had, at last, stopped talking. “Yesterday this crew shone. We walked in there and we kicked it into gear and blew the fucking roof off.”
Violet was almost shouting and when she stopped her words echoed from the empty walls.
“We were a goddamned machine when we had litt
le to no planning. We have a job tomorrow, and that we’ve been planning for weeks, haven’t we?” Violet was staring at Barry, who felt compelled to nod in agreement.
“We’ve got the tools.” Violet gestured towards some of the computer equipment. “We’ve got the skills, we’ve got the motivation and, my friends, we have the fucking brains to pull this job off and get paid.”
Zoe took off her sunglasses and nodded firmly.
Katie was smiling.
“Yeah, I thought so,” said Barry with a shrug. “I was just checking.”
“Yeah, well I want this to go by the numbers, people. Understand?” Violet nudged Lucas’ foot as she walked past him. “Now let’s run it from the top. Zoe, did you get everything you needed from the tablet we recovered?”
“Yes,” Zoe croaked. “Affirmative.”
“So,” said Violet. “You’re up first, Zoe, what’s the first play?”
Zoe sucked air through her teeth, seemingly requiring additional oxygen to kick-start her mouth.
“And no barfing this time,” Violet smirked.
Zoe winced and began. “Well,” her voice was thin and hoarse, “I’ll access the security cameras for the shared spaces externally through the bug I planted. Research shows the guard who’ll be on likes his coffee and pretty much every hour and a half he’ll top up. Wait till he goes for a piss, then...”
Zoe waved her hand in a forward motion.
Violet repeated the motion. “Then...”
“Then I nip in and put the stuff in his coffee,” said Zoe.
“He comes back,” Violet interjected. “He drinks, then his bowels open. Pretty soon he’s going to call for his replacement and when he makes the call...”
“I intercept it.” Zoe was sounding a little stronger. “I intercept it and tell him his relief is on the way.”
Violet nodded and turned to Lucas.
“And I swoop in all dressed up with somewhere to go,” said Lucas. His coffee was hitting the spot. “All the while little miss Z will be disabling the first round of the security system.” He looked to Zoe, who had put her sunglasses back on.
“At that point I make the call–” Lucas began.
“Zoe, are you even awake?” Barry interrupted.
“Ten-four,” said Zoe. “It’s just so bright in here. But I think there’s probably a one in three chance I’m done with the puking.”
“Now that’s progress,” said Barry. “So Lucas makes the call and I’m outside. First defence against the dark arts of the short arse. You lot are a pile of fucking lightweights and no mistake. When we are done with this job I am going to drink you–”
“So Zoe has control of the systems and Lucas is in place. Katie and I get in the lift and descend to the flat, get inside and get the party started on stealing the painting,” Violet continued, shutting Barry’s shit down. Then, in an exaggerated, jokey voice, “But – what – if – someone – turns – up – someone – who – isn’t – us?”
“Head’s up from me,” said Barry. “Because I’m the perimeter, bitches!”
Violet raised an eyebrow. “You are the perimeter. Bitch.”
“Well there’s no need to be like that,” Barry sulked.
“And if Barry here turns up as pissed as he was last night?” Violet blew Barry a kiss.
Katie moved her hands in a tying motion then smacked her fist into her palm.
Violet nodded to Katie. “Tie him up,” she went on. “Give him a bit of a smack and if he runs?” Violet was getting more and more exaggerated, stalking around the room slowly and over-extending her strides.
Katie lifted her hand in the shape of a gun, let her thumb fall as the trigger and then grabbed her stomach, leaning backwards with her mouth open.
Violet slapped her on the shoulder. “Damn right,” she said. “So by now...”
“I’ve got the security system down.” Zoe’s voice cracked as she spoke, but there was an energy returning to her. “The next layer I mean. The one for the painting.”
Violet danced over the room to Zoe. “Yes you do, my clever little prodigy. So the painting is stolen and the forgery put in its place as I get my arse out of there.”
“Everyone’s getting out of there,” added Barry.
“And I’m putting the security back in place level one,” said Zoe.
“I’m out of the lift,” said Violet.
Katie knocked on the wall dramatically.
“Level two, the front door, is restored,” Zoe continued.
“I place the call to the security firm,” said Lucas, caught in the momentum. “Telling them I’m sick and they need to send a replacement and the call gets through because–”
“Because I’ve restored the telephones,” said Zoe.
“Does that have a level?” asked Barry.
“I lost track of the level analogy,” said Zoe. “I’ve got a fucking headache, alright?”
“Aw, diddums,” said Violet. “I scoop up lightweight here and we exit stage left.”
Zoe stuck out her tongue at Violet.
“And I sit there and wait until the replacement security guard arrives,” said Lucas with a sigh.
Katie laughed softly, the two puffs of air escaping from her nostrils laugh. Lucas looked over and she waved.
“Yeah, well excuse me for not feeling very reassured,” Lucas went on. “If any of that shit with security goes wrong... I’m the one on the desk, aren’t I?”
“If everything goes as smoothly as we’ve planned there’ll be no reason to suspect anything. Don’t forget to retrieve the bug Zoe planted,” said Violet. “Zoe, can you send him a picture of what it looks like?”
Lucas looked petulant. “I’m perfectly capable of–”
“None of us know what that crazy shit Zoe plumbs in looks like, sweetie,” Violet interrupted. “Don’t feel bad.” Violet reached over and tapped him on the cheek. “So Lucas, you retrieve the bug then–”
“Then,” Lucas interrupted right back at her. “We get the fuck out of there, deliver the painting to Big Terry and all sail off into the sunset without a single one of us taking a bullet to our forehead.”
“Cheerful thought,” said Zoe.
“I thought it was the right note to end on,” said Lucas and the two of them burst out laughing.
There was a collective exhale, with everyone realising that they could rely on each other. That they all had each other’s backs. Violet clapped her hands together, then paused for a second as she caught Lucas’ eye.
“I think we’re ready, but...” she began.
Everyone groaned.
“Just one more thing, Columbo?” asked Barry.
Violet nodded. “Yeah. There’s something else I’ve been thinking about. Just one more thing I want to go through.”
26th September
* * *
2 weeks to go
* * *
The day of the job…
Chapter 41
Zoe zipped up the last two inches of her bomber jacket and crossed the road towards the reception of the banker’s house. It was exactly ten thirty in the morning; she had just watched the security guard make his mid-morning coffee, put it on the front desk and then wander off toward the toilet.
There were no cameras back there, of course, but she still had to hurry. The game was afoot. She shoved her hands in her pockets to ward off the chill in the air.
She had thought about costumes, but the blonde wig and glasses she’d worn on her last visit would single her out as the same person. If there was anyone there who would recognise her. And her usual choice: the school uniform. Somehow she felt like she had outgrown it.
Her fingers wrapped around a small, smooth glass bottle Barry had given her. Two drops in the drink. No more. No less. Barry had been very insistent on that point. Any less and he’ll just have a very bad stomach. Any more and there would be more significant internal problems.
Of course, Barry hadn’t put it as politely as that. He’d said, “Don’t give
him more than two drops or he’ll shit himself inside out.”
As a result, Zoe was paranoid about getting it on her fingers and having to run the whole technical operation from the ladies toilet.
It was the nerves getting inside her head and jumping up and down. She felt… well, she felt like she was a fraud. As the reception door loomed in front of her, and her moist palm wrapped around the handle, she just felt she shouldn’t be there. Zoe stared at the door. In her heart of hearts she knew the truth, believed in herself. She had the skills, the ability and the intelligence to stand shoulder to shoulder with the rest of the crew. But the nerves jumped up and down and there was that feeling again, like she was just pretending. Like she was going to fuck this up.
She walked up to the door, instinctively expecting it to slide open. It didn’t. Zoe froze, her reflection in the glass suddenly coming into focus – and then she remembered. The guard had to open it. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone, accessed the computer system, and the door slid silently open.
A smile made the slightest appearance at the corners of Zoe’s mouth. The guard wasn’t at his post. This was how it was supposed to be. She wasn’t going to fuck this up. She was in control. She strode across the polished floor, eyes scanning the desk at the point the cameras had shown the guard had placed the cup. It was there. Waiting.
Carefully she plucked the bottle from her pocket and, coming to a halt first, she unscrewed the dropper from the top and began to exert the gentlest pressure on the rubber teat at the end.
Nothing.
Her eyes flicked to the door behind the desk. She imagined she heard him coming. Or perhaps she did hear him coming. Her eyes darted back to the dropper and she squeezed a little harder. A drop formed at the end but nothing actually dropped.
Zoe’s heart pounded in her chest. Whether she could hear him or not, he would be back at any moment. She squeezed a little harder and one drop fell into his drink. She squeezed again and three more fell in rapid succession.