by Andy McNab
Linda felt him behind her but kept her eyes closed. She couldn't sleep either. Had that text been from another woman? Debs, even? Maybe it was a money problem. They didn't have much, but they got by, didn't they? Or was he in debt? Maybe he was bored with her. She held back the tears. She loved him so much. She wanted to talk to him and find out the truth. But Linda was too frightened to ask.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Friday, 10 February, 8.47 p.m.
Kevin closed the main doors of the bank, opened his briefcase and took out his small yellow B&Q torch. He used the shaft of light to take him through the darkness towards the security door and into his office.
He had kept his work clothes on for this evening, thinking that if he looked the part it wouldn't seem strange when he went into the bank at night. He had quite fancied wearing black overalls like de Niro did in The Score, but he'd thought they might look a bit odd on the bus home. Besides, he needed his briefcase to carry the contents of the safe-deposit box. An office suit and raincoat were more appropriate.
It had been easy getting into the bank. He had put his PIN number into the door alarm and left all the other alarms on. It wasn't as if he was going to attack the main vault, or blow his way in through a wall.
With the torch in his mouth Kevin knelt by his office safe and pulled the copy of Symington's key from his jacket pocket. He could hear shouts and thudding music from the two pubs further along the street. He had never been in this part of town so late at night. It was packed with young guys out for the night and most of them were pissed.
Slowly he turned the copy key and heard the clunk of the lock as it opened for him. He had done it! All he had to do now was open his own lock. He left the copy key in the safe lock, ready to secure it later. One of the lock picking websites had told Kevin that if a cut works first time, why take it out to maybe not work a second time?
With the torch in his mouth and dribble trickling down his chin, Kevin fished for the deposit-box guard key. He got up, picked up his briefcase and turned towards the door, lighting up the anniversary card and chocolates that Gary, Alice and Margaret had given him that morning. He had forgotten to take them home. It had been a nightmare trying to act as if today was like any other. Kevin had kept to his office as much as he could. He had been worried his face would give away his secret. He placed the card and chocolates in his briefcase and headed for the stairs.
Linda was at bingo with her mum and was never home until just after ten thirty. The bus to town had been twenty minutes late so he was cutting it fine. But he should still have enough time to get the bus home and be on the sofa watching The Great Escape when Linda came in.
At the bottom of the stairs, Kevin unlocked the door with his own key, opened it and pointed the torch at the wall of steel deposit-box doors on the other side of the room. A few more shouts came from the road, but they were soon cut off as Kevin closed the door behind him and turned on the light.
He was no longer thinking about what he was doing. He put the guard key into the deposit-box lock and turned. It opened with a gentle clunk. Kevin wasn't sure if it was excitement or fear that was making him feel a little light headed. He knelt in front of the boxes, opened his briefcase and pulled out his Dutch kit. It was an automatic lock pick that looked like an electronic screwdriver. But instead of a driver head sticking out the bottom there was a thin shaft of metal.
Kevin sat down with the instructions. He had spent many Friday nights reading instructions, usually for Ikea wardrobes, not 'How to Break into a Deposit Box'.
He put the two batteries into the back of the pick and read on. It seemed simple enough. He switched it on, stood up and put it into the client lock. There was a gentle humming sound but the lock didn't budge. Kevin tried again. The lock opened. Success!
He stepped away from the box with the pick still in his hand. He turned it off, suddenly scared. This was it. He was going to rob the safe-deposit box. Kevin reached out and opened the steel door. It swung back with a gentle creak to reveal the black box. His fear left him.
He opened his briefcase, then reached inside the deposit box.
Suddenly, the bank's alarms ripped through the building. Fuck!
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Leaving the briefcase he ran up the stairs in blind panic. 'Shit! Shit!' He had to get away. He reached the top step with the alarm still in his ears, and ran to the main doors. There, he could hear police sirens above the alarm. His hands were shaking as he fumbled with the locks. The sirens were closer now. His fingers wouldn't work. He couldn't open the doors!
The sirens were outside now. Kevin fell against the door. Police radios crackled. He walked slowly back into the bank in a daze. All he could think of was Linda as blue lights flashed into his face. Suddenly he turned to the window. A wooden bench was sticking out through the smashed glass.
Kevin could see the police shouting at passers-by. But the alarm was too loud for him to make out what they were saying. Shit! What now?
He ran back downstairs to the safe-deposit box room. Closing the door behind him, he hit the lights. He could still hear the alarms, but he felt safer in the darkness. The only other noise was the sound of his breathing. He leaned against the door, then slid to the floor, holding his head in his hands.
It was hopeless. He couldn't get film scenes of prison out of his mind and, worse, pictures of life without his Linda. He knew the police would surround the bank and the alarm company would already have called Symington. He started to cry. He wasn't a bank robber. He was a nobody.
His mobile was ringing. He hadn't even remembered to turn it off. He fumbled in his jacket pocket, grabbed at the phone. The display lit up. It was Symington. Could it get any worse?
The phone bleeped again. He still hadn't turned the fucking thing off. He listened to the message. Symington sounded as if he was in a pub. 'Where are you Dodds? I've left a message on your home number. There's been some vandalism at the bank. I'm going there now. Call me as soon as you get this.'
The system had swung into action and Kevin could not stop it. Symington would carry out his checks at the bank with a policeman. He would then report to Head Office. The glass people would arrive to patch up the window with plywood and in the morning they would replace the glass. The police would be outside all night, protecting the bank. It was then that Kevin started to tremble. The copy of the key was still in the safe lock!
The alarm fell silent. That meant Symington was in the bank. Kevin just sat and waited for the moment when his boss and the police would burst in and find him.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Kevin heard muffled voices upstairs. It wouldn't be long now. He wanted to see Linda, to cuddle her on the settee. Police radios were at the top of the stairs now. He racked his brains for what de Niro and Eastwood would do. For a start they wouldn't cry. And they wouldn't give up. Neither would he. Maybe the key wouldn't be noticed for a while. Maybe Symington would wait for him to turn up before he checked Kevin's office? Maybe. Maybe he had a few more minutes.
He wiped his face, switched on his torch, and quietly locked the door. If he was going to get nicked, he might as well get nicked red-handed. Fuck 'em. Kevin went back to the deposit box, reaching inside, he opened up the black box and quickly put its contents into his briefcase. Making sure he had also put the pick in his briefcase, he closed it before re-locking the deposit box. At least now he was a real bank robber.
Footsteps, more than one person, and the chatter of a police radio were coming down the stairs. Kevin gripped his briefcase and leaned back against the wall behind the door. He turned off the torch and held his breath. A key turned. The door swung open, with Kevin behind it. The light came on. Symington's face was inches away from his but on the other side of the door. 'All OK here. Although I'd like to know where my bloody deputy is.'
Just then Kevin's mobile vibrated in his hand.
The light was switched off and the door was locked again. He heard Symington and his escort go back upstairs.
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Kevin looked down at the lit display. It was Linda. Shit! It was nearly ten! He kept his voice low. 'Hello?'
She was in the car. 'Where are you? I called home and I just got—'
'I'm at work. A bench has been thrown through the bank's window. I don't know when I'll get home. There's loads to do and—' Kevin could hear her crying. 'What's wrong? Your mum OK?'
'Fine. I've just dropped her off and I wanted to talk to you. I've been worried and when you didn't answer, well I… It's just I thought you'd left me.' She was sobbing now.
'Linda, stop the car, you'll have a crash.' Kevin forgot where he was and why. 'You parked up yet? Linda?'
There was no reply.
'Linda?'
'I thought you'd left, what with you staying up late online, the text last night, and then you not at home.' She was still sobbing. 'I was so worried. I thought you'd met someone else. You even started wearing hair gel.'
'Linda, it's OK. There isn't anyone else. I'll be home soon. Just calm down and take your time getting back. I'll be with you soon. I just have to finish here. OK?'
'I love you, Kevin.'
'I do too, sweetheart. I'll be home soon.'
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
He turned off the mobile. He needed time to think. There must a way out of this. There had to be. He couldn't be locked away in prison. He had to get home to his wife. He paced up and down in the darkness. He had to bluff his way out. After all, he did have a reason to be there. He was the deputy manager, and his boss had called him in. Kevin was muttering to himself as if he were getting a football team ready to go out on to the pitch. 'Come on now. Get a grip, Kev. You can do it.'
He took a deep breath, turned on the light and opened the door. As he did so, the noise from upstairs poured into the deposit-box room. He could hear glass smashing as the contractors cleared the glass out of the window frame. He had started to walk upstairs when he spotted a policeman at the top, looking down at him.
'Who are you?' the copper asked.
Kevin was too busy to look the man in the eye. He was checking his watch. 'The deputy manager. You know where the manager is?'
The policeman looked a little confused. 'How long have you been down there?'
Kevin walked past him, still without eye-contact. 'Far too long. Got lots more to do. You seen the manager?'
The policeman pointed towards Symington's office. Kevin walked through the bank, his shoes crunching over the glass on the floor. He went into his own office. The safe was still open. Had Symington seen it?
Kevin closed his office door. He dropped the briefcase on to his chair, then put the guard key back into the safe. He locked the safe and tucked the copy key into his jacket pocket. Then he covered his briefcase with his coat and headed for Symington's office. His boss was on the phone, talking to the Head Office duty manager. A theatre programme for Lady Windermere's Fan lay on his desk next to his overcoat. There was a photo of Jessica Drake on the front cover.
'He's here at last! Lucky I got in pretty quickly.'
Symington turned to Kevin. He liked to bollock him while Head Office was listening. 'I'm supposed to be able to contact you all the time, Dodds. Why couldn't I? You're supposed to be a professional.'
'Sorry, Mr Symington. I went straight from work to a friend's nearby and didn't get my messages. I didn't hear your call. I'm sorry. I—'
Symington had put up his hand to silence him. 'Let me get on with my work, Kevin, as you should be. Wait in your office for me to carry out a deposit-box key check.' Then Symington spoke into the phone. 'No, I haven't checked the CCTV tapes yet. Just the vault and deposit boxes. I'll look at them now.'
Kevin went into his office, hardly daring to breathe. All he had to do was keep his cool, and he'd soon be able to get out of there. He switched on his mobile, and tried to keep his voice steady. 'Hello, darling. I'm going to be a couple more hours yet, so don't wait up. And I'm really sorry, but I'll probably have to come into work in the morning. Head Office security visit.'
Kevin could hear banging from the next-door office. Symington was going mad. 'Where are those bloody tapes!'
Even Linda could hear him. 'I understand. Who was that, Kevin?'
'Just Symington doing the usual. I'll see you soon, darling. I can't wait for tomorrow night.'
He switched off the phone. If he'd had one of Clint's cigars right then, he would have lit it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Saturday, 11 February, 8.20 p.m.
Kevin parked the car, then he and Linda crossed the road to Marco's. Linda was still questioning him about last night. Kevin had been forced to spend the best part of the afternoon at the bank, talking to Head Office and filling in forms. 'Will Symington really get the sack for not getting videos of those yobs?'
'They'll make him take early retirement. It's funny, but I feel a bit sorry for him. Anyway, he'll get a big fat pension. The bank needs to keep him happy. They won't want their customers to find out that they let the world's worst bank manger look after their money for so long.'
'Do you really think you might get the job?' she whispered, as if it felt too risky to say it out loud. 'Tell me exactly what he said again.' She wanted yet another blow-by-blow account of what the general manager had told him.
'"Let's book a meeting on Monday for you to come up to Head Office. We'll discuss your future and the branch's long-overdue refit."'
Linda kissed his cheek, excited, as Kevin pushed open the door for her. He followed his wife in. The restaurant was packed, everyone enjoying their Saturday night out. As Linda took off her coat and hung it over the back of her chair, Kevin saw again how beautiful she was. Her freshly blow-dried hair swung across her face as she sat down.
'Good evening, Mr and Mrs Dodds. A pleasure to see you again.' Mark placed two glasses of champagne on their table. 'Please accept these on the house, and may I congratulate you on your wedding anniversary. I hope you have a lovely evening.' He lit the candle on their table and left them alone to look at menus.
Something caught Kevin's eye at the far end of the room. 'Bloody hell! That's Dave from school — over there. He's punky Debs's husband. But that's not her with him.'
Linda turned to see Dave with a young blonde girl. Her hand was in his on the table, and they were gazing into each other's eyes. 'Yuk! I almost feel sorry for Debs.'
Kevin thought back to the way she'd taken the piss out of him and Linda on the bus but couldn't help feeling the same. 'Me too. But let's forget about them and tonight just think about us.' He lifted his champagne glass, 'To our happy marriage and lots more happy years to come.'
'To our happy marriage.' They clinked glasses.
Linda picked up her handbag. 'Now it's present time. Close your eyes and open your hands.' Kevin opened his arms as wide as if he was about to carry a tree-trunk. 'Smaller.' He moved his hands a few inches in. 'Smaller.' His palms were touching when he felt something laid in them.
He opened his eyes, tore open the envelope and two flight tickets fell out on to the table. 'What's this?' He already knew the answer.
His smile grew wider as Linda rattled off the details. 'Our five-star Greek holiday! Just think, Kev! Sun, sea and sand. I've been saving up for the last year. No caravan for us!'
He leaned across the table, pulled her head towards him and kissed her lips. He didn't care who saw him. Thank you, sweetheart. It's the best present ever. I can't wait.' Kevin reached into his inside pocket. 'And now for yours. Close your eyes and open your hands.' Linda cupped her hands and brought them in front of her.
He dropped the slim black box into them.
Linda smiled as she wrapped her fingers round the leather and opened her eyes. 'Mmm. Looks good already.' She snapped the box open and her jaw dropped. She was silent for a moment, but her eyes said it all.
'The Augusta!' It was the loudest whisper anyone had ever heard. Now it was Kevin's turn to grin from ear to ear.
'I just love it, Kevin. You know I do. Thank you so so m
uch. I bet it cost a fortune and this one looks amazing. Look how the pearls glow. You'd never know. They're so beautiful. Thank you.'
She took the necklace out of its box and put the Augusta round her neck. As the diamonds sparkled in the candle-light, his wife had never been more beautiful. She was a princess.
'Thank you, Kevin. I don't care if we're broke for the rest of our lives. I love my Augusta, and I love you.'
Kevin couldn't contain his excitement. He also felt guilty. 'Linda, I need to tell you the truth about all that extra work I've been doing this week, and what I did last night.'
Linda was still smiling, not really taking it all in.
Kevin leaned over the table to whisper, 'I robbed the bank. My bank. And it was great.'
'Yeah, yeah, yeah. Got old Rowland's money, did you? Are we off to buy our island?' She stroked the necklace. 'And are you going to buy the real one now?'
'Linda. It is the real one…' He told her the whole story, how he switched Linda's Augusta with the real one in Jessica Drake's deposit box.
'Course you did, Kev,' she said, when he'd finished. 'I'd expect no less of you on our anniversary.' She smiled. 'Listen, I don't care that this Augusta isn't real.'
'But it is. I've got to go back to the deposit box tomorrow night and swap it back again. She's leaving town on Monday.'
'You don't need to pretend it's the real one, darling. It's beautiful, and you gave it to me, so it's even more special than Jessica Drake's. You're the best husband in the world, Kevin Dodds.' She picked up her glass. 'I propose a toast to my perfect husband.'
Just then two guitarists in red shirts appeared, strolled up to their table and started to play.