Gangsters Wives (20 page)

Jim nodded. ‘If you hurt a hair on their heads…' he said, half rising from his chair.

‘Don't be silly,' said Knocker, picking up the pistol he'd put on the drainer. ‘You don't have to prove how brave you are Jim. Macho. We know you'll do anything to protect Sue and John. And you will. They'll come to no harm, promise. As long as you just be good and wait for someone to let you know what they want you to do. Couldn't be simpler. OK? And not one single word to anyone, especially the police.'

Jim nodded.

‘Tell him Sue,' said Charlie. ‘No coppers. Well, only us.'

‘Do it Jim,' said Sue. ‘Like the man said, it's only money.'

Knocker kept an eye on Jim as he got dressed for work, trying to keep him calm and focused whilst Charlie stayed downstairs with Sue and the baby. He sat at the kitchen table and made small talk, as Sue bustled around trying to make the day as normal as possible. But she was still shaky and dropped a cup into the sink where it smashed into a dozen pieces. ‘Relax, love,' said Charlie. ‘Just sit down and take it easy, and I'll make some more tea.'

When Jim and Knocker came downstairs, Jim gave Sue a big hug and kissed the baby. ‘I'll see you later,' he said.

‘Course you will,' said Charlie. ‘Just keep that thought in mind.'

Knocker handed Jim a fully-charged, paid-up mobile phone, and said, ‘Keep this close. You'll get instructions as you go along. Just do as you're told, and we'll be out of your hair.'

‘I'm finished,' said Jim, almost in tears.

‘Listen,' said Knocker. ‘You'll be bloody famous by tonight. You and Sue'll be on
Richard
and
Judy
telling your story next week. Just focus, Jim. Keep a clear head and you'll be fine.'

‘But why me?'

‘Shit happens son, shit happens.'

Knocker watched from the window as Jim got into his car, sat for a moment, then started it and drove off. This is going to be the hard part - waiting, he thought.

Jim Flynn clenched the steering wheel tightly as he drove to the depot. His first thought was to call the police, but his second was the two huge, armed men sitting in his kitchen with his wife and child as if they'd just popped in for morning coffee. Oh God, don't let them be hurt, he thought, then steeled himself as he drove through the security gates and into the depot's yard.

He met Ken in the changing rooms, and the older man looked at him and said, ‘You look rough son. What's up?'

Jim tried to put on a happy face. ‘Take-out last night. Think I got a bad prawn. Been up all night.'

‘Should've called in sick boy.'

‘No. I'll be fine. Got the job sheet?'

‘Yeah. A big consignment for burning. Wouldn't mind a bit of that. What about you?'

‘Never think about it Ken.'

‘Seems a shame to waste all that cash. Still, that's what they pay us for. Come on son, look lively. Time we weren't here.'

Jim changed into his olive green uniform, complete with safety vest, put on his hard helmet and joined Ken at the truck. It had already been loaded and sat low on its heavy duty suspension. Ken was busy checking the tyre pressure and Jim swung himself up into the driver's seat. Last time I'll do this, he thought. Whatever happens they'll never trust me with this job again. Suddenly he felt tears in his eyes again, but hardened his heart as Ken got into the passenger seat. ‘I've got the route,' he said. ‘We're going the pretty way.'

The foreman came over with a clipboard for the men to sign, and Jim's hand trembled as he did it.

He drove out of the depot, turned left, left again on to the main road, and joined the morning rush. ‘Take the next left son,' said Ken, with the route map on his lap, and Jim obeyed.

‘Oi,' said Ken suddenly, and Jim almost jumped out of his skin.

‘What?'

‘Where's your lunch son? You know I love Sue's sandwiches.'

‘No time this morning. The nipper was playing up. I'll get something the other end.'

‘I've got plenty. You can share mine,' said Ken. ‘You know Dot always makes a bloody ton.'

Jim almost wept again, at his friend's kindness. His friend, who he was soon going to put in harm's way.

As they drove the prescribed route, Jim's stomach was clenching like a boxer's fist, and he felt that, at any moment his bowels might open and fill his pants. ‘Ken,' he said.

‘What's the matter?'

‘We're being robbed.'

‘Do what?'

‘We're being robbed.'

‘I don't get you son,' said Ken, looking round as if there was someone else in the cab of the truck besides them.

‘Just listen,' said Jim. ‘Two men came to my house this morning dressed as policemen.'

Ken was quick on the uptake. ‘Oh fuck.'

‘Yes. I'm sorry mate. But they've got Sue and the nipper. They've got guns.'

‘Jesus, Jim. And you just left them there?'

‘What could I do?'

‘You could've called the Bill.'

‘They said they'd kill ‘em.'

‘The money.'

‘Course. It's a big load innit?'

‘Twenty mill, give or take.'

‘What we going to do?'

‘I'll call base.'

‘Don't Ken. If anything happens to Sue and John…'

‘We've got to.' Ken took out his mobile.

‘Don't do it Ken. It's my family. I don't want to hurt you.'

Ken was army trained, although a bit past it. But the look he saw in the younger, weaker man's eyes told him that, friends or not, he'd fight him to the death before he allowed him to make the call. ‘OK son. What's going to happen?' he said and shoved the phone back in his pocket.

‘I'm going to get a call on this phone,' said Jim, one-handedly tugging out the mobile Knocker had given him. ‘And I do whatever they say.'

‘You know we're fucked if we do it.'

‘I know mate. But what would you do?'

‘Just what you're doing. We've been pals for a long time Jim. I'll do whatever you say. But if I get a chance at 'em…'

‘Yeah, I know mate.'

‘When?'

‘Whenever.'

‘Then drive on, driver.'

And that was when the phone Jim was holding rang.

He fumbled, and almost dropped the instrument, and the truck swerved.

‘Careful,' shouted Ken. ‘You'll have us off the road.'

‘Christ,' said Jim, straightening the wheel and at the same time pushing the green button to receive calls.

‘Morning Jim,' said a voice in his ear. ‘Hope I haven't caught you at a bad time.'

‘Who are you?' demanded Jim.

‘Now, now. None of that. Look in your mirror.'

Jim did so, and two cars back, main beams flashed. ‘See us?' said the voice.

‘Yes.'

‘Good. Now we know you're GPS'd up, so this has to be quick. Take the next B road. It's coming up in about two minutes. Drive along until you come to a lay-by. It's about half a mile. It's been closed off. Pull up in there and leave the engine running. We'll be right behind you. Got it?'

‘Got it.'

‘And no funny business. Tell Ken as well. We'll be in and out in a few minutes, and Sue and John will be safe and sound. OK?'

Jim said nothing.

‘Talk to me Jim,' said the voice.

‘OK. But they'd better be or I'll hunt you to the ends of the earth.'

‘No melodrama mate. We don't want to hurt them. Keep the phone on.'

Jim tossed it onto the dash with a clatter, and as ordered, slowed and pulled onto the B road that came up fast. He drove down until he saw a lay-by on the left. The entrance was blocked by cones, and a no entry sign. There was a man standing by it, shovel in hand, wearing a baseball cap and a scarf over the lower part of his face, with sunglasses over his eyes. When he saw the truck he hastily pulled the cones apart to allow access for it and the following car. As soon as they were inside, he replaced the cones and vanished into the wooded copse on the far side of the lay-by. Jim pulled up and left the engine running as ordered as the car drove up tight behind him and two huge, masked armed men got out. Jim heard a voice from the phone and picked it up. ‘Right Jim,' said the voice which he assumed to be from the leader of the gang, ‘On your left at the end is an opening. Drive straight through. It's tight, but you can do it. Don't worry about the paintwork, I'm sure it's insured.'

Jim looked at the scrub and trees at the side of the lay-by. As usual the area was full of cans and paper and general rubbish, and sure enough at the end was enough space to take the truck. He put it into gear, bumped up the kerb, if it could be called that, and into the wood. The undergrowth scraped the side of the truck and the going was rough but do-able. Suddenly the wood opened up into a field where two bright yellow JCB earth moving machines were parked with exhaust puffing into the air. Next to the JCBs was a large white two ton truck with its number plate covered with a white rag. ‘Stop,' said the voice in Jim's ear, as the two masked men broke through the undergrowth behind them, guns at the ready. The leader was still talking into the phone. ‘Out you get chaps,' said the voice. ‘And be cool.'

‘He wants us out,' said Jim.

‘Shit,' said Ken. ‘This sort of thing happened in Northern Ireland when I was there.'

‘And?'

‘Usually someone died.'

‘Come on now, the pair of you.' said the voice. ‘We don't have all day.'

Jim and Ken unlocked the truck and climbed out. The two men pushed them to the side of the truck. ‘Blindfold time chaps,' said the leader who now switched the phone off and dropped it into the pocket of the Barbour jacket he was wearing. ‘Don't want you seeing too much.'

‘No,' said Ken with panic in his voice. ‘That's what the bloody Provos did, then shot my mates,' and he lunged at the leader who chopped him down with a vicious blow to the head. ‘Unnecessary,' he said to Ken's still form. ‘We ain't killers.'

He knelt down, felt Ken's pulse, and nodded. ‘He'll be all right,' he said. ‘Bit of a headache. That's all.' But blindfolded him nevertheless and fastened his wrists and ankles with plastic ties. ‘Your turn Jim. Don't worry.'

Jim allowed himself to be blindfolded and tied too, after he'd lain down next to his mate. When the two were secure, the leader made a gesture with his gun hand, and the two JCBs lurched forward. Both the drivers were also masked. The two huge machines slowly took up position, one at the front of the money truck with its shovel hard against the bonnet while the second swung round and smashed into the rear doors. The metal buckled but held as the truck's alarm screamed. Another blow, another screech of metal and the truck broadsided. The first JCB moved in harder, and the second struck for the third time, and the doors began to cave in. One more hit and the doors flew open, exposing the metal cages packed with black plastic sacks labelled ‘PROPERTY OF HM TREASURY.' The driver of the front JCB jumped out, dived into the two-tonner and drove it closer to the weighty piles of cash. The three men frantically began to transfer the money, whilst the leader kept an eye on
his
prisoners. When the loading was almost complete, he took out the phone again, pressed a pre-programmed number and said, ‘All right? No probs? Sweet. Same here. All done. You can go home now.' He killed the phone and said to Jim. ‘That was your place Jim. Wife and child doing well.'