Beyond The Law Box Set

by Tom Benson

  Having successfully duped Phil, Rachel chose to go with shoulder length, blonde hair. Her choice of a smart black jacket and mini-skirt worked well with her white blouse. Stylish black court shoes, a black briefcase and black-framed glasses completed her look.

  The bus arrived at the stop, and Jake was in a window seat, scouring the pavement in both directions. Rachel stepped onto the bus, put down her briefcase and paid.

  Jake glanced in her direction, before continuing to look along the pavement, his brow furrowed.

  When the bus pulled away, Rachel walked along the aisle with the latest passengers. She stopped at the double seat Jake was occupying; his briefcase beside him.

  “Excuse me,” Rachel said, adding a nasal twang to her accent. “Is this seat free?”

  Jake turned and stole a glance at her legs before looking up to her face. “I’m sorry ... yes, it’s free.” He lifted his briefcase onto his lap.

  As Rachel made herself comfortable, she crossed her legs but kept her head well back.

  Jake glanced down at the expanse of thigh, looked out of the window, and half-turned to appreciate his companion’s legs more than once.

  Rachel leant close, and the fragrance of her perfume drifted. She whispered. “I bet you’re wondering if I’m wearing panties, you naughty boy.”

  Jake’s head snapped around, and their faces were close enough to kiss.

  Rachel inclined her head to look at him over the frame of her glasses. Jake’s laughter was short-lived, because his ribcage hurt, which gave Rachel reason to laugh.

  It was 15:00 when they got off the bus in the city centre. Over a bite to eat, they discussed in detail how they were to achieve entry into the solicitor’s offices. Jake made a few suggestions, and after a short discussion, the pair agreed on the final plan. They came up with a strategy for a variety of ‘what if’ scenarios.

  At 16:00 they arrived halfway up St Vincent Street at the old building which was home to MacDonald and Gregory, Solicitors, plus a few similar agencies.

  “We go in as planned,” Rachel said. “If a problem arises, let me do the talking.”

  “You’ve got it,” Jake said. He took a deep breath and headed up the flight of stone steps to the door. He pulled the door open and winced at the pain in his ribcage.

  “Hold on!” Rachel called, as she reached the top step. The security man at reception looked in their direction. Rachel turned on Jake. “Would it have been a task to hold the damn door?”

  “You’re the one who wants to use equality as the basis of the case.”

  The pair walked along past the front desk.

  Jake said, “It’s all tight blouse and short skirt, but when it comes down to it—”

  “Don’t you dare start your sexist garbage—”

  “Excuse me,” the security man said. “Where are you going?”

  “I’m sorry,” Rachel said, stopping to remove her glasses. “Do you know if Mr MacDonald is in—we’re late you see?”

  The man stared into her beautiful eyes.

  Rachel met his gaze and smiled as she tilted her head to one side. “What’s your name?” she asked, before biting on one of the arms of her glasses.

  “Tony Steadman,” he said, captured like a rabbit in car headlights. “Why?”

  “I want to let Mr M know how courteous you are, Tony.” She glanced over her shoulder at Jake before adding. “Are you married?”

  “No,” Tony said. “If you’re late you better get going,”

  “Thanks,” Rachel said and turned to Jake. “Now, he’s a real man.”

  “Whatever you say ....”

  Rachel stopped and turned. “If I miss you later Tony, my name is Helen, and I’ll be back here tomorrow.”

  “Right,” Tony said and grinned.

  “See you tomorrow.”

  Rachel and Jake headed for the stairs and made for the top floor.

  Jake said, “You were good back there.”

  “I was, wasn’t I?”

  They both laughed.

  “If there’s a lift, why are we climbing all these stairs?” Jake asked.

  “There’s a CCTV camera in the lift.”

  “I saw one in the lobby when we came into the building.”

  “They don’t have any on the stairs, which means we have to count on being clear before they investigate our disappearance.”

  “I like your confidence.”

  “There’s more, but I’ll tell you once we’re settled in.” Rachel slowed her pace on the stairs, because Jake winced occasionally, and held his ribs.

  They arrived at the top floor, went through swing doors and headed right. On the left were two entrances to the offices of ‘MacDonald and Gregory - Solicitors’. Two metres along, on the opposite side were the doors of the toilets. Disabled was first, followed by the Gents, and at the end of the corridor, the Ladies.

  Jake pulled a printed document from his pocket to pretend he was standing reading something. In the meantime, Rachel stepped into the Ladies. Ten seconds later, she opened the door, checked the corridor, and nodded to Jake to join her. Rachel hung a sign on the outside of the door.

  ‘Out of Order - Please use Disabled Toilets’

  For good measure, Jake secured the door from the inside.

  Jake undressed down to his trousers and shoes and stopped. Rachel was getting changed in front of him. Jake finished undressing and lifted the one-piece overall from his briefcase. He stepped into the outfit, but stopped again, to look at his partner.

  Like Jake, Rachel had a foldable coat hanger and a travel cover. She was stripped to her underwear in two minutes, and while hanging her jacket and blouse, she glanced in one of the mirrors.

  Rachel didn’t look around, but when she bent down to reach her one-piece outfit from her briefcase she whispered. “I’m impressed by the length of your tongue, but it’ll pick up germs from the floor.” She glanced at his reddening face as she squeezed herself into a Lycra outfit which clung as if sprayed on.

  Rachel pulled on training shoes with Velcro strapping. She donned a thin woollen hat and tucked her hair inside. Latex gloves finished her outfit, and she walked along to the third of the four cubicles. She glanced back at Jake, who was getting dressed but pausing regularly.

  “Take your time,” Rachel said. “The binding will make it difficult.” She pushed the door open on cubicle three, and in a fluid, athletic movement used the doorframe to hoist herself up onto the top of the cubicle partitions. She reached up and slid two of the plasterboard ceiling tiles out of place. A light, rope ladder dropped through the second gap and reached the floor.

  While Rachel balanced on the top of the cubicles, Jake packed away their gear—except for a flashlight which he hung around his neck. He handed up the garment travel covers, and the briefcases. Rachel lifted them into the attic.

  She came down the ladder and explained the least stressful way to get Jake up into the roof-space. It would hurt, but he got on with it. Rachel squatted down in front of him and held the rope taut.

  Jake took hold of the rope and stepped carefully onto Rachel’s shoulders. As she slowly stood up, Jake was most of the way to the ceiling tiles.

  Rachel said, “Remember the rope ladder is secured to a beam up there which will take a lot of weight, but the artificial ceiling is plasterboard tiles. As you go through, step out to reach the wooden floorboards supporting the air-conditioning unit.”

  “I see the platform,” he said. “It’s broad.”

  “Make sure it’s the platform you step on, or you’ll be back down here.”

  Jake groaned when he took his bodyweight on the rope, but it was for a few seconds, and he made an effort. Rachel held his feet and supported him for the final short move up into the attic.

  .

  18:00 - Rachel went down the rope, removed the sign from outside the door, checked the toilet area was clear and climbed back up into the attic. She balanced across two wooden supports, drew the rope up, and slid the ceiling tiles
back in place.

  18:15 - Two glass skylight panels were set into the roof, allowing natural light in. Howling sounded from the offices beneath them. Rachel grinned on seeing Jake’s wide-eyed expression. The howling and yelling continued for twenty minutes and moved to another area. The hideous noise was accompanied by the sound of a vacuum cleaner. The racket went on for three hours but thankfully faded in volume as the cleaner moved along the corridor. The singing was quieter but as bad.

  22:00 - A low buzz emanated from Rachel’s watch. It was time to work. She placed a hand over Jake’s mouth and nudged him awake. All trace of daylight had gone, and the pair used a single flashlight to conserve power. Working as a team, they moved along the wooden floorboards to reach the junction box. Rachel disabled the Passive Infra-Red (PIR) system.

  22:30 - Rachel set her stopwatch at sixty minutes, and measured across some ceiling tiles before carefully removing one of them. In the glow of the flashlight, she nodded with satisfaction. She removed another tile. While Jake held the torch, Rachel disconnected the rope ladder and secured it in position over the new gap.

  22:40 - Using the same support system as before, but in reverse, Rachel descended the rope first to support Jake as he came down, once again in discomfort.

  22:45 - The pair were standing in the MacDonald office of ‘MacDonald and Gregory - Solicitors’.

  Jake produced a handful of instruments from the pockets of his overalls and worked on the safe. Rachel went across the room to the computer. She tapped the monitor and shone the flashlight on the attached sticky note: ‘Motherboard requires replacement’.

  At Rachel’s request, Jake unlocked two large filing cabinets rapidly and silently. When done, he received a friendly hand on the shoulder. Jake returned to the safe, which he opened in ten minutes. The pair continued with their tasks as rapidly as they could, in no more than the light from two flashlights.

  23:15 - Rachel pointed to her watch and ran her right forefinger across her throat. While Rachel checked nothing was out of place, Jake re-locked the safe and the filing cabinets. Rachel squatted down and held the rope taut.

  23:28 - The two operatives were both back up in the attic, rope lifted, and ceiling tiles replaced. The alarm was one step away from being reset. Rachel prepared to remove the shorting strip and took hold of the two tiny crocodile clips. She was concentrating, to remove them simultaneously when she heard a noise to her side.

  “Cramp,” Jake groaned, his face contorted. His eyes were closed, and his teeth clamped together as he massaged his left thigh. His left leg shot forward, and his foot went through the centre of a plasterboard ceiling tile. He rolled back onto the wooden floorboards, but the chunks of the board had fallen into the office below, leaving a gaping hole.

  “Bollocks.” Rachel stared through the hole at the large lumps of white on the desk and floor in the office below. She checked her watch.

  23:29 - Rachel pressed on the remainder of the tile and watched it all fall onto and around the desk. As soon as the last piece fell, she turned and removed the two crocodile clips. A light click was heard, and a red light flashed at the side of the PIR junction box. The pair waited, motionless. No alarms sounded.

  23:31 - Rachel took Jake’s left foot in both hands. She held the heel firm in her left hand, before gripping and pushing back on the toecap of his training shoe with her right. The grip was maintained for two minutes. She slowly released. Cramp cured.

  23:35 - Rachel tidied their equipment, and ensured Jake was on a broad piece of wooden support beside the air-con unit. She told him to lie down and rest. She said she’d give him a shout after four hours. He could do the second shift of a ‘listening watch’.

  23:40 - Jake was sound asleep. To avoid further accidents, Rachel secured him to the sturdy rafters with rope.

  25. Preparations

  Thursday evening was different for the senior members of Hawk’s team. The pair had travelled to Helensburgh together in Annabel’s car, and Phil got out near the railway station. A taxi would ensure he arrived alone at The Rosslea Hall Hotel in Rhu, on the far side of Helensburgh.

  Having booked in on the previous day, Annabel had her room key. It was twenty minutes after dropping Phil at the station, a light knock sounded on Annabel’s door. Through habit, she lifted her automatic before opening her door.

  Annabel suggested listening to the recorder she’d set up to receive intel from the active bugs in Cove. Phil was keen to hear anything said in Flannigan’s house, or on his phone.

  A call was made the previous day. Annabel calculated the time. The recorder clicked, and a dial tone sounded. Phil turned to Annabel. The dial tone lasted a few seconds and went dead, and the tape recorder switched off. Why would a phone call cause such behaviour?

  Annabel said, “He was about to make an outgoing call, but had second thoughts.”

  While they waited for the next recording, Phil fixed up two coffees with the brew kit supplied in the room.

  Annabel reminded Phil, about Flannigan’s obsession with record keeping. She suggested if he used a phone it would be because he was compelled. Flannigan kept detailed logs for every journey, no matter how trivial the entry may appear. If he were involved in anything more serious than taking anglers out on day trips, he would most likely have recorded it—albeit in a coded entry.

  The recorder clicked, and a brief dial tone sounded. Annabel increased the volume and sat on the dressing table stool. She lifted her coffee and nodded her thanks to Phil. They listened.

  During the conversation, Flannigan told the distant end, he’d received a visit by a young female reporter on the previous week, but he’d given her no sensitive information.

  The voice on the other end was a man, who didn’t sound happy about the idea of photos and interviews. Flannigan apologised and explained about his strange call regarding the boat. On the off-chance something was going on, he thought he should report it. The outgoing call ended.

  No other calls were made in or out, for the remainder of Wednesday.

  Annabel said, “My bogus call about the boat must have worried him.”

  “I agree, and I’ll bet it was Hartley he was reporting to in the call.”

  “It would make sense because it means he didn’t tell his leader about the visit and interview when they happened last week. He hesitated to make the call yesterday.”

  Phil checked his watch. “I doubt if we’re going to hear much more this evening. Why don’t I treat you to dinner?”

  “I thought you’d never ask,” she said. “The meals here are excellent, but we don’t want to be seen as a couple.”

  “Charming ....”

  “You know what I mean.” Annabel laughed. “There’s a decent place near the main road towards Helensburgh.”

  They left separately to meet up a distance away. It was peculiar for them to have a drink and a meal in a cosy, comfortable atmosphere, but nobody would recognise either of them. For two hours, they enjoyed each other’s company and discussed in broad terms what they had achieved as a team.

  Phil was relaxed. He didn’t push any questions on the areas which concerned him about his closest associate, and he had learned firsthand how capable she was. They both enjoyed a brandy in the candlelit environment, and for a while, it was like a regular date.

  On more than one occasion during their meal, their gaze met, but they said nothing as if silently sharing a fantasy. Neither of them ruined the atmosphere by voicing their thoughts, and between them, many things were left unsaid.

  After the meal, they strolled along the seafront towards Helensburgh. The promenade stretched ahead of them. Along the left was the long row of shops and hotels. Behind the shops were the town, woodland and golf course.

  On the right, the promenade was a decorative boundary between the town and the river. Ornamental lawns and sheltered seating, faced onto the expanse of the River Clyde. At various points along the low wall, people were out walking their dogs or taking an evening stroll.


  It was a short walk to the yacht club and the small pier nearby. They walked as far as the pier, and Phil nodded when the target vessel was in view. The fishing boat’s name stood out clearly. Margharita.

  The pair stopped fifty metres away and watched as Flannigan busied himself with minor tasks onboard. When he turned and saw the couple, he gave a friendly wave. He didn’t recognise Annabel. Phil waved, and briefly inclined his head in polite greeting.

  Later in the evening while Annabel was standing at the window of the hotel room, Rachel and Jake came to mind. She checked her watch and knew if all had gone to plan they would be sitting in the attic, waiting to make their descent.

  Annabel went out at 22:30, wearing the blouse, mini-skirt, and heels she’d been wearing earlier, but carrying a light coat. She left the hotel and drove a few hundred metres to the main road where she parked and waited. Two minutes later, Phil strolled towards the car from his waiting area near the main road, got in, and placed his backpack on his lap.

  Annabel drove the short distance to Helensburgh, where she parked in a tree-lined side street. Phil remained in the car for a few minutes to let Annabel go on alone. She put on her coat, made her way out of the side street and walked along the main road. She passed several of the storefronts and crossed over to the promenade. She strolled beside the low wall in the moonlight, in the direction of the small group of trees near the moorings. The water was splashing up against the wall to her left.

  At 22:45, Phil changed his bright shirt for a black polo neck sweater, lifted his backpack, and strapped it over his shoulders when he left the car. He strode through the back streets directly towards the moorings. When he was fifty metres from the boats and walking between a group of trees, he passed Annabel.

  She was sitting on a bench, casually swinging a dog lead. “Fi-Fi, where are you?”

  Phil crossed her path in the semi-darkness.

  Annabel said, “All clear.”

  Phil walked between the trees, passed another wooden bench, and approached the handful of boats at the moorings. Before he left the shadows of the trees, he pulled on a black ski mask, and black gloves. The dense cloud hid the moon.