The Grey Man (5 page)

K
EVIN WENT TO MAKE
the coffee. He could feel the blood pumping in his neck. His chest felt tight. It was hard to breathe. Cold sweat had broken out all over his body.

He could hardly control his shaking hands as he held the kettle under the tap. He didn't know what to do. He was terrified. He paced up and down the small kitchen while he waited for the water to boil. Any minute now Symington would be screaming his name when he found what lay under his desk. 'Shit, shit,
shit'

Alice came in to hang up her coat after lunch. 'You OK, Kev?' The kettle clicked off. 'You don't look too good. He giving you a hard time again?'

Kevin made Symington's coffee. 'I'm just a bit tired. Got a lot on my mind.'

Alice nodded as she left him. 'Know the feeling.'

He had to stop panicking, and work out how
to get the compact back before Symington spotted it.

Symington was on the far side of his office when Kevin went in with the coffee. He was delving into his filing cabinet. Kevin went towards him. 'Here you are, Mr Symington. I hope it's strong enough for you – whoa!' He tripped over the bin again.

The coffee splashed down the back of the bank manager's jacket. 'You damned fool! What's wrong with you?' Symington tore it off as Kevin dropped to his knees to pick up the mug, which had rolled across the floor. 'I'm so sorry – I didn't see the bin again. So sorry Mr Symington. Are you OK? I'll pay for the cleaning.'

'You should open an account at the dry-cleaners.'

Kevin reached over to the box of tissues on Symington's desk and pulled out a wad. 'Here, let me help you.'

Symington snatched it from him, and started to dab at his jacket. Kevin grabbed another handful of tissues and began to mop the carpet, the desktop and drawers. 'I don't know what came over me. I'm so sorry. I'll clear it all up for you.'

'Get out of my sight. Send Alice in. She'll make a better job of it.'

'Yes, sir.' Kevin stuffed the tissues into his pocket and left the room.

Gary and Alice had heard the whole thing. Alice smiled at Kevin as he mouthed, 'Sorry.' She went into Symington's office. Gary swivelled on his stool at the counter and gave Kevin a thumbs-up. Kevin shrugged and went back into his office.

He closed the door and leaned against it. Then he allowed himself a slight smile. It had worked. He took the tissues out of his pocket, then put his hand back in and pulled out the compact. Separating the bunch of keys from the compact and putting them back into the desk drawer had been a nightmare. Maybe it was because his hands were trembling so much. He opened it and saw a perfect print of the key. His smile became broader. This was it. He'd copied the safe key. He was going to rob the bank!

That evening was much like the last one. Linda tried to talk to him, but Kevin was barely speaking. He had told her he had to stay up late again as he had more to do on the computer.

'Don't be too long,' she said, as she went up to bed.

When she'd gone, Kevin turned on the oven and placed the closed compact on the top shelf. It would take forty minutes for the clay to harden. Meanwhile he opened the tin of wood-filler he had also bought at B&Q and turned on the hob. He had a bit of cooking to do. He heated the filler until it became a brown liquid.

When the clay had hardened, he poured it into the print of the key. His website had told him it would harden overnight. He slipped it into his briefcase and washed up.

In bed, he couldn't sleep. He felt scared, excited too.

Linda's eyes were closed, but she was awake. She wasn't excited. She was just scared.

Thursday, 9 February, 12.27 p.m.

K
EVIN WAS AT HIS
desk. His door was closed and he was almost whispering into his mobile. 'But you said it would be here today.'

The Dutch woman at the end of the line was calm. She was used to anxious customers. 'But today isn't over yet, sir. I'll keep checking for your delivery time. If you give me your mobile number, I'll text you with the details.' Kevin gave it to her, then closed his phone.

It hadn't been a good morning. He took a deep breath and stood up, ready to go to lunch. Keep calm, Kev. He picked up his briefcase and made for the door. You've still got stuff to do.

With a prawn sandwich in one hand and the brown, now hardened, copy of the safe key in the other, he handed it to Greg at the heel bar.

'Thanks for the overdraft, Mr Dodds. It's been
pretty quiet for this time of year. I'm hoping things will pick up, come spring.'

'No problem, Greg. It'll get busy. I'm sure of it.'

Greg looked at the strange brown shape, then put it into the clamp of the cutting machine. 'It's from an old safe key, isn't it?'

Kevin munched his sandwich, more out of fear than hunger. 'It's my mother-in-law's. She lost the key but for some reason she had this copy stashed away. Why she didn't just get a proper spare cut in the first place, I don't know.' Kevin was flapping. He took another bite of sandwich to keep himself quiet and checked his mobile for texts. He knew he hadn't got one because the phone would have bleeped, but he couldn't stop himself.

Greg finished cutting the key and handed it to him with the copy. 'I thought for a minute you might be planning to rob your own bank!'

'How did you guess? It was meant to be a secret. How much?'

'On the house, Mr Dodds. And thanks again.'

D
URING THE REST OF
the afternoon Kevin found it impossible to work. He checked his watch. 4.06 p.m. Holland was an hour ahead and he still hadn't had a text. He called again and the same woman answered. 'Look, I just need to know if it's here. Can I collect it yet?'

'As I've already explained, sir, I'm trying to find out where it is in the delivery chain. As soon as I know, I will text you.'

Kevin and Linda didn't have much to say to each other all evening. They still lay together on the settee, but Linda was only half watching the TV, and Kevin kept checking his mobile for texts.

Then it happened! Four bleeps blasted out from Kevin's mobile. He nearly kicked Linda off the settee as he got up. The Dutch kit was on its way and could be picked up from the courier's depot any time after eleven tomorrow morning.
He would fetch it during the lunch hour.

'Who's the text from, Kev?' Linda was watching him as he put the phone on the mantelpiece and headed for the kitchen.

'Er, just someone about Saturday night. You'll have to wait, remember? Want some tea?' He left the room.

Linda sat on the settee and stared at his mobile. She had never read any of his texts or emails before, but now she walked over and picked up the phone. Nothing. He had deleted it.

The rest of the evening carried on as before until they both went up to bed and fell asleep. Well, Kevin pretended he was asleep. In fact, he was going over his plan. Tonight he felt no excitement, just pure fear. He thought about all the heroes he had seen on-screen and tried to work out if they had been scared. He felt better when he remembered that many of them had. He cuddled into Linda and waited for the hours to pass.

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.

Friday, 10 February, 8.47 p.m.

K
EVIN 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!

L
EAVING 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.