Touched by Angels (15 page)

When Belcher looked at the photo of the man with the flat nose, he knew at one glance it was him.

***

Robert was becoming increasingly nervous.
They sat in the same eating house as yesterday, in Chelsea, breakfasting on grilled kippers, poached eggs and toast, washed down with Darjeeling tea.

He said in a low voice, “He’s gonna to be waitin’ for us, isn’t he?” and added, before she could answer, “The police could take us away. They could send you to prison and me into an orphanage… or the workhouse.”

“
Nobody will
ever
take you from me, d’you hear? I’ll kill them first!” Lil said.

She gazed long and hard into his eyes and he felt the waves of love once more. She put her silver cutlery on the plate, took both his hands in hers and squeezed them.

“
Now you listen to me.”

She looked around
and lowered her voice.

“
I tied him as best I was able. He also had a mangled foot and probably a headache with that clout you gave him. Even if he does get loose, I doubt he’d be in a fit state to follow us.”

He looked up, desperately fighting the urge to laugh. All said and done, the clang that thing made when it struck his head was comical and he had never thought they would get him with the mousetrap in a million years.

He knew though
that Bride was completely ruthless and would not let something as petty as pain hold him back, in view of the amount of money likely to be at stake, and the hatred he bore them.

“
Now eat up,” she said, looking at her watch.

It was eight thirty-
five, less than half an hour until the bank opened. He knew that, instead of excitement, her heart was filled with terror too.

The boy gazed at the remains of
the kipper on his plate. “Mum, he’s gonna be there. I know he is.”

A tear broke as he looked up and wound its way down his cheek.

Bride hobbled along, knowing he had about two hours to kill before the bank opened, though he guessed it might take that long to get there, at the rate he was going. Pain was forcing him to stop every thirty yards or so.

Where the mousetrap had hacked skin away from the two smallest toes, and mashed one of the nails, the hard leather rubbed against the raw flesh, through the bandages he had improvised by tearing strips of cloth from the bed sheets.

He felt the comforting bulge of the wads of pound notes against his chest, each in an inside pocket, as he limped ever closer.

***

Belcher was getting impatient. He had guessed Bride was maki
ng his way to the bank the Guvnor had told him about, but by now, people were everywhere.

But then, as he was losing hope, he saw Bride stop once more. This time he had not hobbled as far. He was looking down at his right foot. He saw him look to his left, before shuffling between two buildings.

Belcher glanced around, though nobody appeared to be taking any notice, so he made his way there and stole a cautious glance in. It was a long, dark, narrow alley, a lonely place, where few ventured. Ideal.

Bride
was sitting on a step, unlacing his shoe, grimacing as he slowly eased it off. Belcher smirked, as he saw him unwrapping the blood-soaked bandage and dropping it in a heap on the ground. There was more blood over the end of his foot, much more.

This was going to be easier than he thought.

***

When Bride looked up
and saw Belcher towering above, he felt his stomach lurch. Though no slouch himself, he had never seen a man as mighty and frightening as this. Hobbled as he was, he felt especially weak and knew he would have to be very careful in what he said.

Bride quavered, “What do you want?”

“
Looks painful,” Belcher observed.

“
Yes, I had an accident. Now if you
don’t
mind…”

The grin disappeared from Belcher’s face.

“
You’d better get up and start walkin’, and if you don’t do as I say, you won’t walk again, ever!”

By now, Bride’s heart was thudding. He looked around again, but still they were alone. He started pulling the shoe back on, but had barely got it between finger and thumb, when Belcher kicked it. It flew end over end, before hitting one of two huge wooden barrels brimming with rainwater.

“
Now get up, and do as you’re fuckin’ told!”

Terrified, Bride eased himself up from the step, and Belcher shoved him between the shoulder blades.

Finally
light dawned; this man, who had the stink of the workhouse about him, had something to do with the King brothers.

Bride
had walked two steps, though, before he realised that without the rubbing of the shoe, most of the pain in his foot had gone, so perhaps he might just be able to run. Without warning, he bolted, knowing it was the last thing the man expected. It nearly worked.

Belcher
reached out and punched Bride in the middle of the back. The blow sent him sprawling face-first in the dirt. Feeling as though every sip of wind had been knocked from him, Bride groaned, as he rolled onto his back, and saw Belcher standing over him, one leg either side.

He saw his eyes suddenly bulging, then his hand coming towards him, and tried to shuffle backwards, on his elbows, to escape whatever he had in store.

Instead, Belcher picked something up that had tumbled out of his pockets as he’d fallen. It was the two wads of notes.

He lifted them slowly, so mesmerised, he nearly missed Bride sliding out. He even managed to stagger up, without being noticed. Thinking the safety deposit box must contain infinitely greater wealth anyway, he knew it didn’t really matter about this relatively minor pittance, as long as this terrible man left him alone.

He started walking, but only got one step, before one of those great hands grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, and lifted him partially off the ground, with little more effort than he would have used for a cat.

The real fear didn’t come though until Belcher shoved the money inside his jacket and started frogmarching him to the wall between the rain barrels. Once there, he smashed him up against the bricks and Bride saw stars once again, as his head banged against them.

“
I been told you gotta safe key or a fob watch.”

“
I haven’t, honest. Anyway, you’ve got all the money…”

Belcher’s fist slammed into his stomach. Bride collapsed to his knees, in such awful pain, he only vaguely heard him saying, “You better start givin’ me some answers, or I’ll break every fuckin’ bone in your body. I been told there’s a bint and a kid too.”

Bride couldn’t talk. He had the hazy idea Belcher was frisking him. After several minutes of this fruitless task, Belcher yanked him up once more. When Bride saw his fist about to smash into his face, he gasped, thinking quickly ahead, “
She’s
got it!” His hands were flailing, trying to protect himself.

Belcher gripped his neck even harder. “Got what?”

“
Both of
’em. The fob
and
the key.”

“
What’s in the safe?”

“
Nothing. Just a few old necklaces, worthless, sentiment…”

The fist whacked into his stomach again and vomit filled his mouth. He was on his knees, in agony, knowing he would die here, unless he gave this animal something more concrete to go on.

There was only one way out he could see, but he would have to tread very carefully. He was looking through watering eyes at diced carrot on Belcher’s left boot, spitting, as he croaked, “All right, there is money. Loads of it. Probably jewels too.”

“
How much?”

“
Thousands…
millions even.”

Belcher whipped him up once more and he cried out at the pain in his gut.

“
Where is she?”

Bride sagged in his grip
and hung there like a doll. “I don’t know, honest, I don’t.”

Belcher pulled a photograph from his jacket with his free hand and showed it to him. It was Adam King.

“
He’s dead,” Bride said. “She murdered him. Stabbed him to death.”

The giant pushed him into the wall, but through his pain, Bride could see his gamble had paid off. When Bride cautiously suggested they share the money, rather than keep fighting, he seemed oddly relieved, until Bride realised he probably had scant knowledge of how the outside world worked.

Belcher
wouldn’t have a clue how to employ vast sums of money without arousing misgivings, and certainly not how to fence jewellery.

He needed him.

***

Belcher was just tall enough to see over the barrel. He was looking in the direction of the street, as he considered Bride’s clearly sensible offer, when he saw somebody pass by, so transiently that if he’d blinked, he would have missed him.

He had seen the Guvno
r.

When Lil and Robert walked into Coutts & Co Bank once more, they saw no sign of Bride, but knew he could materialise at any moment.

Lil
looked along the row of be-suited tellers behind varnished portals, with no sign of any safety deposit boxes. A giant, green enamelled safe dominated one corner of the bank, and the whole area was lit by a vast electric chandelier.

The whole place was teeming with the well to do.

A young smiling man in a suit appeared before her. “How may we be of service?”

“
Mum wants to get to her safety deposit box!” Robert piped up.

Lil
closed her eyes and felt like strangling him. She had meant to build up to the enquiry rather more subtly, so as not to arouse suspicion. Now she would just have to let it ride and pray the man didn’t smell a rat.

Luckily, he glanced down at what he saw as an immature, affable lad, who hadn’t yet learned the value of tact, and said, “Boys, eh? Got two myself. You never know what they’re going to say next.”

She smiled, swamped with relief, as he said, so simply she could have cried, “That part of the establishment, madam, is below ground, for added security. If you’ll follow me…”

They trailed behind him, with Lil briefly squeezing Robert’s hand, and putting her finger to her mouth. They followed him down a flight of stone steps, her block heels clacking loudly, and came to a short corridor, with a whitewashed brick wall to their right, and a row of stout iron bars to their left.

They ran from ceiling to floor, and were not unlike those of a prison cell, where she would end up for a very long time if anything went wrong in the next ten minutes.

The electric lights were a novelty. It was an odd feeling to be in a lit enclosed area, without the tang of burning oil in the air.

Through the iron bars, they saw the far wall was composed of four rows of small numbered steel doors, one on top of the other.

All were the same size, about fourteen inches across and twenty high, and all were numbered. Each had a brass circle, about two and a half inches across, on the right hand side for the keyhole. Next to each one was a small brass knob to pull the door open. To their immediate right, was a door set into the wall, with the words
For Privacy
inscribed upon it in large letters.

The man
asked, “May I see your key and safe number?”

She pulled the key and fob from her blouse pocket, and the man watched as she opened it.

He didn’t seem
surprised at all at its location, having seen many, even stranger places for the number to be secreted. After all, the Duchess of Gloucester kept hers in the whalebone of her corset.

After she had shown him the number engraved inside, he smiled once more, and said, “All appears to be in order, Madam. Please follow me.”

She felt her heart slow down. There were two security guards outside the iron barred door, and at a nod from the young man, one of them produced a key and unlocked it.

It made a grating noise that set her teeth on edge as it swung open. They followed him through.

“
That is your safe on the middle right-hand corner, Madam. Please feel free to enter that room for privacy.”

He retreated to the corridor to wait.

She had the unsettling feeling it had been a mite too easy as she inserted the key and turned it. She pulled the brass knob and the thick steel door coasted open. There was a large metal box inside with a hinged lid on top. She pulled it out. Robert walked ahead and opened the door. She followed him in. The room was brightly lit, with just a plain table, a white linen cloth draped across it and a chair either side.

She placed the box on top, and said quietly, “Close the door.”