Sterling

by Robert Cameron

  ‘Cameron Sterling! Sounds made up.’

  ‘Well, it is!’ Al handed him the envelope. ‘Everything you need is in there, including the keys to your new apartment.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘We’re moving you to Edinburgh; you’re going to be our Northern Asset. The address is on the driving licence and some other documents.’

  ‘But I live here – I have a job. I can’t just leave.’

  ‘As far as your colleagues are aware, you were visiting your parents in Newcastle and you had a car accident. You’re rather unwell and will not be returning to work. You can’t go back. That part of your life is over.’

  Cam sat for a few seconds, absorbing the information.

  ‘What do I do when I get to Edinburgh?’

  ‘Whatever you want. You can get a job or you can take a monthly payment from us. It’s not much but you can live well off it. All your bills will be paid, your rent, your utility bills, phone – things like that will all be taken care of. And then there’s this.’ Al handed him a credit card. Cam looked at the card and noted the name. Mr C Sterling. ‘This is for asset use only – it will be monitored. We know what you do with your money and this card will not be used for that.’ Al looked at Cam. He was no longer surprised; he had come to accept that they knew everything.

  ‘Are we clear?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘When we need you, you will be contacted,’ said Al as he stood up. ‘Remember, keep it discreet and stay under the radar. If you require any equipment for a task, use the phone to request it, and we will deposit the items in the boot of your car.’ Cam followed him to the front door.

  ‘After today you won’t see much of me, but that doesn’t mean that I am not watching you.’ Al stepped outside and turned to face Cam. ‘Goodbye Mr Sterling, get moving as soon as possible and I’ll be in contact.’ With that he turned and left.

  * * * * * * *

  ‘That’s a shame Robert; I will miss our little chats,’ Mrs Crossley said as she held up a plate of biscuits. ‘Would you like one?’ Cam didn’t. He was never a fan of chocolate, and only out of politeness did he reach over and take one.

  ‘When is it you’ll be leaving?’

  ‘Right away, I’m afraid.’ Cam replied.

  ‘Oh no, so soon? I’ll have to get you your deposit back.’ Mrs Crossley made a move to stand up, but Cam leaned forward putting down his tea.

  ‘It’s OK Mrs Crossley, I’m not giving you a month’s notice so you can keep it. It’s yours.’

  ‘Nonsense, I’ll go and get it.’ She got shakily to her feet and disappeared into another room to find the money.

  Cam sat in the silence of the elderly couple’s home. He looked around as he puts the unwanted biscuit into his pocket. The house was decorated in the typical elderly style: patterned wallpaper, ornaments cluttering up the shelves and far too many photographs adorned the walls. Many of the pictures showed Mr and Mrs Crossley in their younger days. If you looked at them in the correct order you could watch them grow old together. Cam liked the thought that they had shared a happy life together.

  ‘Here you are Robert, four hundred pounds.’ She handed over a handful of notes.

  ‘You should really keep this, in case you don’t get someone to move in straight away,’ Cam said as he took the money from the old lady.

  ‘It’s all right.’ She said again. ‘We had this place paid off years ago; we don’t need anyone to move in. We always take our time finding a tenant, someone who will look after the place. Mr Crossley’s getting too old to be fixing it up.’

  ‘How is Mr Crossley, I haven’t seen him in a while?’

  ‘He’s keeping busy. He had to fix the letterbox yesterday; the paper boy broke the flap off as he pushed the paper through. But it’s all fixed now. He was out all day the other day buying a new whirligig, because the wind snapped our old one.’

  ‘If there’s anything I can do before I go, you only need to ask.’

  ‘That’s very kind of you, but Mr Crossley likes to do everything himself.’

  Cam folded the deposit money in half and put it into his pocket alongside the discarded biscuit.

  ‘You shouldn’t keep this much money lying around, it’s dangerous.’

  ‘I know, but I don’t really have much to do with the bank account, Mr Crossley looks after all that. And we just seem to be keeping it hidden away here at the moment. I’m sure he’ll get round to it’.

  ‘Well just make sure it’s safe,’ Cam said as he stood up to leave.

  ‘We will miss you Robert,’ Mrs Crossley said, giving Cam a big hug.

  ‘Thank you for letting me stay. I’ve really enjoyed living here.’

  ‘You can come back any time; your cottage will probably stay empty for a while.’

  ‘Thank you,’ he repeated, and turned to walk down the passageway.

  He suddenly felt sad that he hadn’t been round to visit more often. She was a lovely old lady, full of stories and always fancied a chat. About to open the front door he noticed the letterbox flap was missing. Looking down he saw it lying on the floor, as if it had fallen off and been pushed to the wall by the action of the door opening. He nearly leaned down to pick it up, but something stopped him.

  It dawned on him that in all the time he had lived here – nearly a year and a half – he may not have ever seen or met Mr Crossley. It just felt like he had. She talked about him so much and there were so many photos of him that he knew what he looked like. Cam searched his entire memory of the place and the few visits he’d made. And it was true; he had never seen the man. He turned to see the frail old lady slowly following him down the corridor, and he saw the sadness of loss in her eyes for the first time.

  ‘Good bye, Mrs Crossley.’ He said, feeling terrible.

  ‘Goodbye Robert,’ she replied. With an awful feeling of selfishness he left the old lady’s house.

  He was walking down the path that would take him round to his cottage, when he spotted something out of the corner of his eye – an old whirligig washing line, battered and bent by the strong winds. Still there, but damaged beyond use. It made him stop and stand still.

  He looked back over to the front door he has just left. Mrs Crossley was still there.

  ‘Will you say hello to Mr Crossley for me?’ he called.

  ‘I will, Robert,’ she said as she smiled and waved. But Cam knew that what she meant was, ‘I wish I could’.

  Chapter 17

  Edinburgh was one of his favourite cities. He wondered if Al knew that. Off the main high street, Cam’s car bumped over the cobbled roads. His sat nav signalled that he had arrived at his destination. He was surprised to see a relatively new building, although still in keeping with the look of the old town.

  He drove his car down into the underground car park and found an empty space. Suspiciously Cam stood in the cold car park. Something didn’t seem right, he just didn’t know what. Opening the boot of the car he picked up his backpack and slung it over his shoulders. He then lifted up the floor of the boot space; this revealed the spare wheel compartment where he had concealed his pistol. With the weapon tucked in the waistband of his trousers, he walked towards the door marked ‘Entrance’.

  The keys from the envelope that Al had given him opened the door that led to the stairwell. It was quiet, and the carpeted floor made the place feel homely. The smell of fresh paint followed Cam as he ascended the flight of stairs towards number six, his new home.

  The front door looked strong and above it he observed a very well-hidden camera. Was somebody watching him? He pulled out his pistol and inserted the key. The door opened and he slid inside and closed the door behind him. He found himself in a good-sized open-plan flat. It was well decorated and modern, clean and new. Cam was impressed, he liked what he saw. ‘I could live here,�
� he thought.

  After checking out the other rooms he felt more at ease. The two bedrooms were also well decorated and furnished, so Cam did not need to purchase anything – it was all there. He even had a large flat-screen television on the wall. Connected up to it were an Xbox and an Xbox Kinnect. He was not used to that; his last place didn’t even have electricity. An ample couch faced the television; Cam sank down into it with a sigh. ‘By God that’s comfortable.’

  He picked up the remote and clicked the big screen into life. He didn’t know that so many channels existed. He pressed the CCTV button on the remote and the hallway of the block appeared on the screen. ‘Handy.’ Pressing the channel up and down button revealed even more hidden camera views. The car park, entrance-way and various views of the streets surrounding his apartment were all covered. ‘Very handy.’

  He stood up to continue the search of his new place. A laptop sat on a computer desk in one corner of the room. Surrounding the laptop were other pieces of computer-related equipment such as printers and scanners. Cam would have to fathom out how these worked later. He opened up the laptop and pressed the ‘on’ button. The computer booted up within seconds, indicating that it was top of the range. Cam was surprised to see a screen asking for a password. He’d figure that out later too.

  ‘A shower! Thank God.’ Cam had not had a good shower for longer than he cared to remember. Mrs Crossley’s old cottage only had a bath, and hot water was hard to come by. He felt like a caveman transported into the future. Clean sparkling black tiles surrounded him as he stood in the large bathroom. A huge gleaming sink and a large mirror finished off the room perfectly. As he left the bathroom a set of double doors caught his eye. Something looked odd about them. He opened the doors to discover an empty cupboard space. Still something was strange about the cupboard but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

  His phone rang. He took it out of his pocket, this was the new phone Al had given him and it was the first time it had rung. A number was displayed on the screen, but Cam didn’t recognise it.

  ‘Hello.’

  ‘What do you think of the apartment? Nice isn’t it?’

  ‘Very nice. It’s going to take quite a bit of getting used to.’

  ‘Well enjoy it – everything you need is there, and if it isn’t let me know and we will get it to you.’

  ‘The boot of my car, right?’

  ‘Yes… a few other things, though. The password to your laptop is the same as your bank pin number.’

  ‘How do you know what that is?’ Cam said.

  ‘We know everything, Cam. That same account will be where we pay your allowance into. Remember the credit card is for asset business only. We will be in contact when we need you and if you need me, ring the number that I am calling you from now. I recommend you save it into your phone book in your mobile. When you call it ask for Al, and you will be connected to me. Is that clear?’

  ‘Yes, how long before you contact me again?’

  ‘Who knows? One day, maybe one month. Just sit tight and stay off the radar, OK?’

  ‘Sure, no problem.’

  ‘Oh, and check out the cupboard in the corridor. There’s a false wall at the back.’ And with that the line went dead.

  Cam saved the number under ‘Al’ and put the phone into his pocket as he opened the cupboard door again. It was at that point he realised what was wrong with the cupboard. Where it was placed in the wall it had no room space behind it. Cam was right; a well-hidden false door opened into a room. Cam felt the edge of the wall for a light switch. On finding it he lit up the room.

  ‘Wow!’ Cam muttered to himself.

  What he saw was like something out of a James Bond film: an equipment room, with everything he could ever need – clothing, equipment and weapons. Picking up a HK G36, he pulled back the bolt and looked inside the breach. It was clean as a whistle and probably never used. He put it into his shoulder and looked through the various sights.

  ‘Cool,’ he said aloud. He put it back in the rack next to some kind of bullpup sniper rifle. He added his P226 to the collection and left the room. ‘I’ll have a good look around that later. But first, a shower.’

  Cam had what might have been the longest shower in history. He stood under the strong, hot flow, letting the water course over his body. He anticipated a chill in the tiled bathroom floor, but it was as warm as the wooden flooring elsewhere in the apartment.

  ‘Under-floor heating! I love this place!’

  * * * * * * *

  How do you fill your time? Cam had never had to do that before. He had spent the previous four days watching television, playing with the Xbox and surfing the internet – all things he couldn’t do before. After checking his bank balance it was clear that he was going to be able to live quite comfortably off the money from Al.

  The money from Mrs Crossley had been burning a hole in his pocket. He was going to go out and make it disappear. It would be the first time that he had left the new apartment since he had begun the wait to be called.

  With the money gone, he wandered up and down Princes Street. He couldn’t help but check his phone every few minutes, in case it had somehow been set on silent. He needed to calm down. He had bought himself some new games, some food supplies and a healthy supply of whisky.

  Princes Street was, as usual, very busy with people going about their daily business. Cam always felt out of place in big crowds; he felt as if he didn’t belong in the city – he was neither a local, nor a tourist nor worked there – he was completely isolated from everyone. He stopped and looked over at Edinburgh Castle – an impressive monument. He would like to have another look around it; he had visited it years ago. Cam wanted to lose himself for a few hours in the history of the place but the present was nagging him. All he wanted to do was get back to the quiet of his apartment. He was still waiting.

  On arrival back in his flat he put away his shopping and flopped down on the couch, closing his eyes and enjoying the peace and quiet after the hustle and bustle of the high street. He took the mobile from his pocket and placed it on the table next to the sofa, checking one more time to see if it was on a loud setting. It was.

  After a few hours he awoke, jerking upright he instantly reached for the mobile phone on the table. Had it rung? Something had woken him from the deep sleep that had snuck up on him. The phone screen remained blank. He breathed out a sigh and finding the phone charger he plugged it into the wall. The phone acknowledged the fact that it was receiving power and then faded to black again.

  Cam wondered if he should phone Al or some other number. He worried that the phone wasn’t working. He stood up and stretched his back, easing out the knots of tension from sleeping in one position for so long. It was now dark outside; Cam checked the time to find it was early evening. He poured himself a whisky from his newly acquired collection. He chose BNJ, and after helping himself to a generous portion, replaced the bottle next to the others on the kitchen windowsill.

  The first sip was always the best; he hadn’t had a drink for nearly a week, since he had first met Al back in John’s pub. He took another long sip and switched on the television. He chose a light-hearted comedy film and after another shot of whisky he topped up the glass and walked over to the window.

  The street was still busy with people milling about. The orange glow of the streetlights gave the outside scene a sense of warmth – although it was almost spring the air temperature was still cold, especially at night. He put down his glass on the windowsill and opened the window. He moved his face closer to the opening and breathed in the cool air. Although a city, Edinburgh still had a fresh feeling, even in the centre.

  Picking up the glass he left the window open. The cold air helped him feel at home. He wasn’t used to living in a place with central heating. Deciding to check out his equipment room more thoroughly, he opened the false door
and entered the dark space.

  When the light came on and he had to blink a few times to get his eyes used to the light, bright against the white paintwork. He surveyed his equipment, chose the HK G36 and grabbed the appropriate cleaning kit, then made his way back to the living room. Cam sat cross-legged on the rug which covered a small amount of the living space and laid out the rifle cleaning kit on the floor.

  While sipping his whisky, he stripped the rifle down to its component parts. He cleaned the weapon and watched the film on the screen. Between the film and the cleaning, he remembered the times when he had used a rifle like that. He had found it a very good weapon. Probably the weapon the British Army should have had as a standard, but due to some political reason they ended up with the SA80. And after some problems with it they upgraded it to the rifle that was currently in service.

  Once it was clean and reassembled he cocked the weapon a few times to allow the oil to coat the working parts. Still sitting on the floor, he leaned back on the couch with the rifle across his lap and finished his drink. Looking at the empty glass he contemplated another. But he was waiting for a call. He had to be careful.

  Chapter 18

  The monotony of his new life was becoming too much to bear. It was nearly three weeks since he had arrived in Edinburgh. The computer games and technology that surrounded him in his new place had lost their attraction. He was bored; his equipment was sorted out and ready for use, and his weapons were clean.

  He had been living off take-away and other junk food – and he was starting too feel it. He had become almost nocturnal, staying up to the early hours and indulging in too much whisky. He would sleep until the afternoon, wake up with a misty head, eat something then begin the whole process again.

  Cam hadn’t seen another soul for two weeks and had maybe only spoken a couple of sentences – and that was only to himself when something had annoyed him on the news. He needed to get outside, but was nervous of the crowded streets of the bustling city.