For Those Who Know the Ending (21 page)

Aiden could almost feel Liam Duffy watching him as he walked up the pavement towards the building. Duffy wanted him to fail, he knew it. That’s why he had those two brainless thugs in the back of the car with him. He wanted to see Aiden stumble so that him and his two mates could go running in and rescue things, like they were the heroes of all this. He was threatened, that was why. Duffy was threatened by the good work Aiden was doing setting all this up, handling the handover. Aiden knew it was fear that made Duffy hate him.

One of Argyle’s lads had been at the building earlier in the day, making sure the entrance Aiden was planning to use was unlocked. The door had two large pieces of metal propped in front of it, the builders presumably thinking it acted as an extra layer of security. They were worried about people vandalising the site over the weekend, using the place for improper purposes. No fear of theft, anything valuable would have been moved to the security of their own yard on Friday afternoon. One of the sheets of metal had been moved just far enough for Aiden to slip in behind it. Meant that he could pull the open padlock from the door without being seen from the street.

The place was cavernous inside. A tall and empty building, individual floors removed and dividing walls cleared before new and suitably modern units were built for new businesses to occupy. There were holes in the remaining walls, the signs of an old building being upgraded for a new purpose. There was plenty of light coming in, easy to see anyone waiting inside as soon as you entered. The ground- and first-floor windows had been boarded up, but there were plenty on what had once been the third floor that hadn’t. Sarah was standing over by a much larger door near the corner on Aiden’s left. She had a bag at her feet, smaller than his.

Aiden smiled and walked across to her, working to keep the smile on his face. He knew it looked as nervous as he felt.

‘Hi, Sarah. I take it that bag’s for me.’ He’d been thinking about what to say for a few hours, how he wanted every part of the conversation to go. He had run through it so many times in his head that any deviation would throw him off.

Sarah, wrapped up in a dark coat, gave the bag at her feet a little kick. ‘Check it,’ she said. ‘I don’t want your lot complaining about anything afterwards. Make sure it’s all there.’

‘Yeah, sure,’ Aiden said, stopping in front of her. He pulled the holdall round and passed it to her. ‘Same for you. You know, check it.’ It was going as planned, although he had sounded a lot more assured in his head.

Sarah didn’t respond to being told something she already knew. Aiden placed the holdall on the floor and unzipped it, looking inside. She was being thorough, taking out bags, checking everything against the list she had memorized. Aiden tried to copy her work ethic, but there was less for him to do. He opened the small rucksack she was using and saw three light brown paper bags inside. They should contain £71,000, he knew that. He wasn’t going to kneel there on the dirty floor, the knees of his trousers getting manky, counting every fucking note. He opened all three of the bags carefully, making sure not to rip them. They were all stuffed with cash, he could see that. Plenty of it as well, all looking legit. If he was smart he could have counted the amount in each stack and multiplied it to work out what was in each bag, but his brain couldn’t possibly move that fast when he was calm, let alone under pressure.

Sarah took three or four minutes going through the bag, checking everything with a due care that seemed to come easy to her. Aiden stayed down on his knees with the rucksack for as long as she did, thinking it made him seem as professional as her, and long past the point where he had anything to count. She zipped the bag, grabbed the handles, stood up and pulled it round over her shoulder.

‘Right, I’m happy. You happy?’

‘Yeah,’ Aiden said, ‘totally happy.’

She nodded, giving him another superior look. Sarah turned and pushed open the large door, slipping out into the street, leaving Aiden alone.

Usman had provided the van. Turned up to collect Martin and took him straight down to Govan. They had watched Aiden pick the location, waited until he was gone before they went in and scouted it themselves. A quick look around and then planning their next move. They had agreed they would watch the building instead of Aiden from now on, Martin bringing a gun and Usman the van. Now they sat across the road, down towards the corner, watching the entrance as Sarah McFall went inside.

‘We wait for her to leave,’ Martin said. Couldn’t do the job with her there, so if he left first then it was just too bad, they would have to call the thing off.

‘Aye,’ Usman said, ‘sure.’ Didn’t sound certain, but he was playing along.

They sat and watched the large door Sarah had entered through. It looked like a fire exit at the moment, leading out onto the side street. Chances were it would become a gleaming glass entrance for some of the companies that would work out of the site when the units were sold. Small hi-tech firms, start-ups replacing the old industry.

‘Be ready to run in as soon as she comes out,’ Usman said. Leaning forward in the van, his hand on the handle of the driver’s door.

‘Let her get away first,’ Martin said.

The car she’d arrived in was parked up the street, two other people in it, waiting for her to return. They had to let that car get out of sight, and Martin knew they would have time. If she left first, Comrie would give her at least a five-minute head start.

‘When she has left in that car, you drive up and park right beside the door. Even if we are not supposed to park there, you park there. Make it as close to the door as we can get.’

Usman nodded. That made a lot of sense, making sure the distance they had to move Comrie and the money was as short as possible.

McFall came back out the door and walked quickly down to the car, a different bag slung over her shoulder from the one she had taken in. The deal was done, and the money was now in Comrie’s possession. The car started before she reached it, pulled away as soon as she had yanked the passenger door shut. Usman drove the van quickly towards the side door, doing a sharp U-turn in the street and then stopping.

He had to give her ten minutes. Hang around in this empty building and wait for her to get away before he let himself be seen on the street. It was the polite thing to do, the professional thing. It was that sense of professionalism that Aiden was determined to develop. They’d respect him then. But ten minutes, on your own, in a completely empty building, worrying about the police barging in, that’s tough. Hard to persuade yourself that nobody saw you coming in and called the cops because they thought you were a vandal or a thief. So he started trying to work out how long it would take the police to get there if someone was smart enough to think he was suspicious. Two minutes? Three? He glanced at his watch. Twenty-one minutes past five. Three minutes since she left. Another seven to wait. Okay, let’s say five, round it down. No reason for Aiden to give her the full ten minutes when eight would serve the same purpose.

Aiden put the rucksack down on the floor again and unzipped it. Might as well have a look at the money for five minutes. It would be a fun and reassuring use of time. Good to see the success in paper form, hold it and smell it. There couldn’t be many in the industry who managed to arrange and carry off a deal this big. This would always be on his CV, the man who brought Chris Argyle and the Allens together. He opened one of the paper bags and took out a couple of small bundles of cash, just revelling in the weight of wealth. He thought about pocketing one. No, they’d notice a whole bundle missing and they wouldn’t react well to someone screwing them. Maybe slip a few notes out of a couple of bundles, make it look like the Allens miscounted. Was it worth it? It would make it look like the Allens weren’t careful when they were paying their money, and that would piss off Argyle, maybe even jeopardize the deal. No, a hundred quid in his pocket wasn’t worth that. He needed this deal to be a complete success. That would be worth a hell of a lot more than a hundred quid to him.

He heard a vehicle on the road outside and paused. Could be the police, or Sarah again. The door scraped behind him as someone carefully pushed it open. Must be Sarah coming back with the bag. Shit, must be something wrong with the gear, he thought. Might be time to work some damage-limitation on the pretty blonde. He stuffed the money back into the rucksack and zipped it shut in a hurry. Didn’t want her realizing that he’d been thinking of pocketing some, even if he’d decided against it. He spun round and stood up in one movement, getting a smile on his face for her, ready to smooth over whatever complaint she had. But it wasn’t Sarah McFall. It was two young men, their faces showing. The white one, he was shorter, and he was pointing a gun at Aiden.

It wasn’t hard to keep everyone in view. The key was getting access to a building across the street from the handover spot. They had minutes to get in, get a good view of events developing. Usman had texted Gully with a location, told him that Comrie was already there but hadn’t gone in yet. Nate and Gully rushed down in a transit van designed to fit right into this area. They knew that the business would have started by the time they got there, but the start didn’t matter.

‘There, that’s the building,’ Gully said.

Nate slowed down. There was very little traffic, hardly any cars parked at the side of the road. This was a place people came to work, and very few of them came to work here on a Sunday.

‘There’s a van up there,’ Gully said, looking up the adjoining street. ‘Arse facing us, can’t see if anyone’s in it.’

Nate kept going straight and steady, not accelerating much as they moved down the street.

‘There,’ Gully said from the passenger seat. ‘Left-hand side, gaggle of pricks in a car.’

Nate drove past, neither him nor Gully looking down at Liam Duffy and the muscle he had sitting in the back of his car. Didn’t want to alert them yet. Then they turned into the yard of another big building much further down the street. They were just about out of view of Duffy, but it didn’t take much effort for Nate and Gully to get a look at the back of Duffy’s car.

‘Must have started the job by now,’ Gully said casually.

Nate didn’t say anything.
Should
have started the job by now wasn’t the same as must have. The van on the adjoining street could have belonged to anyone. Could have been the Allens’ people, or it could have been Usman. None of that mattered. What mattered was Usman and his pal getting their end of the job done properly. If they did, then Nate could make this a very bad day indeed for Chris Argyle. That’s why they were watching Duffy, waiting for him to catch on to the fact that his pal wasn’t coming back out of that building with the cash.

‘I’ll be taking that,’ Usman said to Aiden, striding across and pulling the rucksack from his grasp. Aiden didn’t do anything to stop him. ‘Come on,’ he said, shoving Aiden towards the door Sarah had used.

‘What is this? Hold on, no, hold on,’ Aiden said, trying to resist.

Martin moved a step closer, the gun pointing at Aiden’s head.

‘Whoa, all right, come on, fuck’s sake. What is this, huh? What is this, guys?’

‘Don’t sweat it,’ Usman told him, moving across to the door and pulling it open. He seemed casual, talking in a friendly tone. ‘This is just business, you know how it is. Business. We’ll be done in half an hour.’

Aiden nodded at the word business. Sure, business, he was all about business these days. He couldn’t work out what sort of business these guys had though. Were they working for the Allens? They weren’t the two from the back of the car but that didn’t mean they weren’t working for Argyle either. Maybe they were going to count the money with him before it went to Duffy. But why the gun? That intense-looking little guy with the shaved head, still pointing the gun at him.

‘Who are you guys with? Is it . . . ? Who?’

Usman stopped and looked at him. He was starting to lose patience; he wanted Comrie out of here by now. Look at this mug, desperate to believe the best of the situation he was in. Not smart enough to see the worst-case scenario standing right in front of him. He could be spun a story.

‘We’re working for Don Park. You know of Don Park?’

Aiden paused. It was hard to think fast under the pressure of a pointed gun. Don Park. He knew who Don Park was, of course he fucking did. He was the guy Argyle was working with on this. Hell, he was bigger than Argyle.

‘Will I meet him?’ Aiden asked hopefully.

Usman smiled. ‘Not if you’re just going to stand there. We need to be quick here, Aiden.’

Aiden nodded, obviously trying to play this right. Looked like a man wanting to make a good impression on Don Park, boost his standing. He walked to the door, Usman ahead of him and Martin slipping in behind, lowering his gun but keeping the same focused look. Usman looked past Aiden briefly, got a slightly stunned shake of the head from Martin. This person was a clown. That didn’t deserve a shake of the head in Usman’s opinion; clowns were the very best people to steal from.

Usman stuck his head out the door, looked down to the corner on the left. If Comrie’s backup were going to approach, that’s the way they would have to come. There was nobody there. The light blue Mercedes van Usman had borrowed for the day was parked at the kerb in front of them. Usman stepped out and slid the large side door of the van open, smiling to Aiden as the dealer stepped past him and into the back. Martin followed Aiden, still shaking his head slightly. Usman closed the door.

Another look up and down the street before he got in the front of the van. Still nobody there. They were going to pull it off. They were actually going to get out of here with the cash. This was working. Maybe the dirtiest part was still to come, but this was the obstacle they were most likely to trip over. He jumped into the driver’s seat and threw the rucksack into the foot-well on the passenger side. He started the van and pulled away, watching his mirrors constantly as he went, trying to make sure he drove at a speed that drew no attention. Looking for threats, and looking for allies as well. He didn’t want either coming into view.