A Cool Head

‘He’s not turned up yet?’

‘No.’ Stewart fell silent, until George began to fear the co

‘I don’t know.’

‘Don left the car with you, next thing you know, the cops are on to it. Meantime, nobody’s seen Benjy since yesterday lunch-time. Do you see what I’m getting at? It’s Don.’

‘What is?’

‘The cash! A little retirement present to himself. He’s been wanting out of the firm ever since the old man died. So he sets the whole thing up. Goes to hand over the cash but has Benjy waiting in the wings…’

‘Don wouldn’t do that.’ George’s head was spi

‘Come on, George, think about it!’ Stewart was saying.

George was trying to think. It wasn’t easy. There was a hissing noise in his ears and his heart was pumping. Don hadn’t tried stopping the shooter. Don hadn’t gone after him. Don had left the Bentley for George to get rid of. Don was out there somewhere with Sam and Eddie.

‘You really think…’

Oh yes, Stewart really thought. ‘Do you have any idea where he is now?’

‘Going after Celine Watts. He’s got Sam and Eddie with him.’

‘And who are they working for, George? You or Don?’

‘They’re my guys.’

‘Then tell them to bring Don in. We’ll have a few words with him, see what he has to say.’

George nodded. ‘Meantime, what about Hanley?’

‘I’ve not tracked him down yet. Might have to pay a house call.’

‘He’ll be bricking it.’

‘To start with, yes. But eventually, he’s going to start asking for the money again.’

‘You’ll get your money back, Stewart.’

‘I know I will, little brother. I know I will.’

Bob Sanders has news for Jane

Bob Sanders was on the phone to Jane again.

‘Where are you?’ he asked her.

‘Just leaving the scrapyard.’

‘So a team turned up, then?’

‘At long last, yes. Any news on Empson and his BMW?’

‘No, but listen to this. A woman decided to call 999.’

‘That is strange.’

‘Her husband is Andrew Hanley. He’s on the council. In fact, he’s Head of Pla

‘I’m with you so far.’

‘Mr Hanley came home last night with blood on his shoes. Guess where he’d been?’

‘Where?’

‘Raymond’s Garage.’ Bob paused. ‘For a meeting with Donald Empson and an unknown amount of cash.’

Jane whistled. ‘Is he hurt?’

‘His wife doesn’t think so. He told her the blood was paint.’

‘So if he’s not hurt, and Empson’s not hurt, we’re still one short.’

‘And Benjamin Flowers still hasn’t put in an appearance. Maybe Mr Hanley can fill us in.’

‘Where is he now?’

‘Well, according to his wife, he fled the house when she confronted him. I’m guessing it may tie in with some other calls we’ve been getting about a man, no jacket and no shoes, ru

‘Is a patrol car on its way there?’

‘Yes.’

‘What would I do without you, Bob?’

‘Save a fortune on confectionery,’ he answered.

Don Empson is in trouble

Sam and Eddie were hungry. They were almost always hungry. That was why they’d pulled into a lay-by on the ring road. There was a snack van parked there. Don Empson could smell fried onions.

‘Best burgers in the city,’ Eddie had said. Despite which, Don had said he wasn’t hungry. He swallowed another three pills instead, washing them down with water from a bottle. His stomach was on fire. ‘Try to keep your stress levels down at work,’ the doctors had advised. Some chance. He’d bought the water when they’d stopped for petrol. He had tried phoning his police contact again, but Co

He hoped Benjy was holed up somewhere and being looked after. It was Don’s own fault. The boy had never been right for the job. There had always been little plans and notions, quick-money schemes. More than once, Don had covered his nephew’s backside. There were gambling debts, poker games gone wrong. And expensive girlfriends to go with that flash car he drove. Weekends in five-star hotels. Wrong, all of it.

Don’s own fault.

The best he could hope for was to get the money back pronto, then try to smuggle Benjy out of the country. That was the only option, or else he was dead meat. This was what Don was thinking as he stared out through the windscreen. Sam and Eddie were chomping their way through the burgers, kicking at stones, laughing about something. Not a care in the world, so it seemed. When Don’s phone rang, he reached into his pocket for it.

He was wrong.

Not his phone, hers. He reached into his other pocket. He didn’t recognise the number on the screen. He knew better than to answer, his voice might scare off whoever was on the other end. Instead, he let the phone ring. And when it stopped, he waited until the screen told him he had 1 Missed Call.

Followed a few moments later by 1 New Message.

Don punched the numbers and pressed the phone to his ear. It was Celine Watts’ voice. She was calling her own phone.

‘Do

A switchboard answered. ‘Mansion Park Hotel, how may I direct your call?’

Don thought about that question for a second. Then he decided. ‘I just need your address,’ he said, slapping his hand against the horn, letting Sam and Eddie know playtime was over. But Sam was holding up one finger. He had a call of his own and needed to answer it. He spoke a couple of words, then did a lot of listening. Not that Don Empson noticed, he was too busy jotting down the details of the hotel.

When Sam got back into the driving seat, first thing he said was, ‘We’ve got to head back to base.’

‘No way,’ Don argued. ‘I’ve just got Celine Watts’ address.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes, really. And it means we’re going to Edinburgh.’

Sam seemed to hesitate. ‘Boss wants us back home.’

Don was shaking his head. He took out his own phone and punched in Gorgeous George’s number, started talking as soon as the call was answered.

‘George, I know where Celine Watts is, and I think she’s got the bag.’

There was silence for a moment. ‘Is that a fact, Don?’

George didn’t sound right somehow. Don found himself frowning. ‘What’s the matter?’ he asked.

‘You’re coming back here, Don. Few questions that need answering.’

Don’s heart sank. ‘Look, George, I can fix this. Really I can.’

‘So where’s the money?’

‘Mansion Park Hotel in Edinburgh. Celine Watts has it.’

‘Have you been drinking, Don?’

‘Her name and address were in my car. Guy called Gravy ended up with it and thought Watts had to be a friend of…’ Don choked back the final word.

‘Friend of Benjy’s?’ George said.

‘Yes,’ Don muttered. The truth was finally out.

‘You saying this was his idea and not yours?’ George was asking.

‘It’s nothing to do with me!’

‘The boys will bring you back here, Don, and we can sort it all out.’

Don didn’t know what to say to that. George was asking him to pass the phone to Sam. He did as he was told. He could hear what George was saying. They were to take Don to a pub George owned. Put him in the cellar. Keep an eye on him. George would be along later. ‘Just as soon as I’ve checked out his story.’