The next day Adele thought about her conversation with Peter. He was right; she should try to make up with John. She missed him so much and knew that it would make her feel better if they could at least stay friends.
She picked up the phone with shaking hands and dialled the number of his firm in London. While she waited for the receptionist to put her through she could feel the throbbing of her heartbeat. She cleared her throat, ready to speak to him.
When she heard his voice her heart fluttered. ‘Hello. John Mullen speaking.’
He sounded so self-assured.
‘John, it’s me,’ she said, feeling her voice tremble.
‘Oh!’
‘John, please don’t put the phone down. I need to speak to you.’
‘I’m at work,’ he whispered. ‘It’s a bit awkward,’ but she could sense a softening in his tone of voice. Perhaps he had missed her too.
‘I know, I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘It was the only way I could get hold of you. I’m sorry for what I did, John. I was upset. I know that’s no excuse. It was wrong of me and I’m really sorry.’
He paused before responding. ‘OK, well it’s good to hear that anyway.’
He was right. It was awkward. He sounded detached and she felt as though he was holding back, conscious of eavesdroppers.
‘I just want to stay friends, John. Maybe we could chat once in a while. I don’t want to lose contact with you. We were too close for that.’
‘All right. That sounds good,’ he said, his voice formal.
‘Is it difficult to speak?’ she asked.
‘Yeah, it is. But I can give you another number.’
‘Wait. I’ll grab a pen.’ She rushed around trying to find a pen and paper, then quickly scribbled down his number, clutching the pen in her sweaty hands. ‘OK, I’ll speak to you soon,’ she said.
Once he had bidden her goodbye, she put the phone down and smiled to herself, the relief flooding through her. Perhaps she hadn’t lost him altogether after all.
*
Eric walked into the bank on King Street with his colleague, Steve. Eric was a big man at six foot three and sixteen and a half stone, and he stood tall and proud in his navy blue trousers and navy, ribbed sweater with the name of his firm embroidered over the left side of his chest. He enjoyed the respect that his security uniform gave him. Most people stared at his bulky frame and stepped to one side to let him pass as he and his colleague marched through the banking hall.
Eric and Steve were speedy and business-like and didn’t stop long to chat to the banking staff; not when there was a huge amount of cash to be collected. It was important to get it loaded into the security van as soon as possible.
They collected the cash. Then they were on their way back outside, Eric holding the cash close to his body while Steve went in front, careful to keep only a step ahead of Eric. That was the way they worked, so that Steve would be ready to help Eric if anyone made a grab for the cash. They made their way to their company van, which was parked as near to the bank entrance as they could get on a busy afternoon.
Outside they walked the few metres to the van, keeping up a brisk pace. Steve went round to the front, ready to get into the driver’s seat and start the engine, while Eric went to place the money into the back. All this was done automatically without exchanging words; they both knew the drill.
Eric had just opened the back doors of the van ready to store the cash, along with the others he had collected earlier that day, when two men appeared. They seemed to have come out of nowhere. But Eric was ready for them and within a split second he had sized them up and fancied his chances. They weren’t the biggest men in the world but he could tell they meant business as they’d taken the trouble to disguise their faces by wearing balaclavas.
Eric was no fool; with his height and frame he knew he could take them on. He surmised that there were probably others at the front of the van but he was confident that Steve could take care of them.
One of the men made a grab for the cash but Eric kept a tight grip on it with both hands, his elbows turned out to the sides. He pivoted backwards, placing his right foot behind the left at a forty-five-degree angle then swung forward rapidly, raising his elbow, which connected with the man’s face as he spun round.
The man rocked back on his heels with the force of the blow, clutching his bloody nose with both hands. The second man advanced towards Eric, but before he had chance to reach for the cash, Eric threw it into the back of the van. Then he stepped forward, blocking the man’s way to the money. Eric swiftly cupped both his hands together, lifted them high and brought them down hard on the back of the man's neck. The man crumbled to the ground.
While his attackers were still stunned, Eric drew his keys out ready to lock the van’s doors. His subconscious mind registered a scuffle at the front of the van, but he was too occupied to focus on it.
He was just about to put the key in the lock when the first man stuck a gun to his head. But Eric didn’t scare easily. Acting on impulse, he swiped the gun away and it tumbled to the floor. While the man bent to retrieve his gun, Eric raised his fist in a swift uppercut to the man’s face, sending him sprawling to the ground.
When the second man came back at him, Eric didn’t see him approach. He just felt a presence followed by a sharp blow to the side of his head. Then everything went black.
Eric was only out for a few minutes. But when he opened his eyes a large crowd had gathered around him. As his fuzzy brain recalled what had happened, his first impulse was to check the van. He looked up. It was almost empty. The men had cleared as many boxes as they could in the limited amount of time they had. And they were gone.
Raising his hand to the throbbing pain at the side of his head, Eric gazed around him. Disorientated, he was deciding his next move when he heard the sound of a woman’s voice break out from the crowd.
‘He’s coming to,’ she said. ‘Are you all right, love?’
Eric stared into the crowd, tracing the sound of the woman’s voice, but before he could respond, a man also spoke out, his words devastating Eric. ‘Thank God this one’s still alive, at least,’ he said.
*
The Ford Sierra drew to a stop on a track road in a desolated area of the Pennines. A few metres away, secreted under some trees and bushes, was another car, a blue Volvo, which had been driven there earlier that day. The five men got out of the Ford Sierra and one of them popped the boot open. They then transferred the cash from the Sierra to the Volvo, emptying it out of the banks’ sealed plastic bags and putting it into their own bags instead. The men threw the empty plastic bags into the Ford Sierra to be disposed of later.
‘Right, are we ready?’ asked Sam, once they had finished loading the cash.
‘Dave, have you got the petrol?’ asked Peter, whose face was still smeared with blood from his fight with the security guard. David walked back from the Volvo with a petrol can in his hand.
‘Mickey, have you checked there’s nothing in there?’ asked Peter.
‘Yeah, but I’ll give it a last look,’ said Mickey, opening the front door of the Sierra and scouring the area around the seats, dashboard and footwell before moving onto the back of the car.
He was looking for anything that might incriminate them; something that might survive a fire, such as a fallen piece of jewellery. Once Peter was satisfied that Mickey had given the Sierra a good going-over, he nodded at David who emptied the contents of the petrol can liberally onto the car, making sure that he covered the interior upholstery as well as the body.
When the can was almost empty, David trailed the petrol away from the Sierra to a distance of several metres. Then he threw the empty can back to where the vehicle was parked.
‘Right, stand back,’ said Peter.
The men moved away, leaving the next task to Peter. He’d opted to finish it himself, and was looking forward to this part of the job. He joined his friends several metres away.
‘You go back a bit further,’ Peter instructed David. ‘You might have traces of petrol on your clothes. We don’t want you going up like a fuckin’ inferno, do we?’
Once David was safely away, Peter lit a match and threw it at the petrol trail. He missed. Two more attempts and the match hit. The impact was instantaneous. Peter watched in awe as the angry flames danced along the ground then enveloped the Sierra. A ball of fire was soon shooting up from the car, which was now barely visible beneath it.
‘Wow!’ said David. ‘Fuckin’ brilliant.’
Feeling the intense heat from the burning vehicle, the men moved further back and Peter gave David a self-satisfied smirk. For several minutes they watched the destructive flames ravage the Sierra and its contents.
‘Job done I think, lads,’ said Peter, grinning. ‘Let’s get back.’
They crowded into the Volvo and began talking. On the journey up to the Pennines they had stayed silent. Peter wouldn’t allow any discussion about the job until it was over. They had needed to focus until they were away from the bank and had destroyed the Sierra. Now the analysis would begin.
‘What the fuck happened, Dave?’ Peter asked. ‘I told you not to fuckin’ shoot anyone unless we had to. The guns are supposed to scare ’em, that’s all.’
‘No choice, Pete. The bastard had his keys in the ignition and was trying to start the engine. I couldn’t let him get away before we got the cash.’
Peter looked across at Sam who had partnered David. Sam quickly corroborated what David had said.
‘Trouble is the fuckin’ cops will be all over it now.’ Peter sighed. ‘A bank robbery’s one thing, but they don’t like fuckin’ fatalities.’
‘No choice, Pete. Like I said,’ said David.
‘All right, let’s leave it,’ said Peter but he wasn’t happy. For several seconds he remained silent with a scowl on his face.
Mickey spoke next, breaking the tension inside the car. ‘Fuckin’ game for it, that security guard, wasn’t he?’ he commented. ‘My fuckin’ neck’s still throbbing where he hit me.’
‘Yeah,’ Peter replied. ‘I can’t believe he knocked the fuckin’ gun out of my hand. I’ll have to watch out for that in future. It’s a good job you had that fuckin’ baseball bat hidden inside your jacket, Mickey. Nice one that. The bastard was out for the count.’
They continued discussing the job for several minutes and the atmosphere gradually eased between them. It wasn’t long before they were back in Manchester.
The armed robberies were a new addition to Peter’s criminal activities and they were proving worthwhile. The only snag was that it was high risk, which today’s events had shown. But today had been an exception; usually things went much more smoothly.
Since Peter and David had acquired the guns, people had begun to show them more respect, as Peter had anticipated. It hadn’t taken long until they found men willing to work with them so they’d formed a five-man team.
Knowing that the security guards worked in pairs, Peter allocated two men to each of the security guards while the fifth member of his gang stayed in the getaway car, ready to start the engine as soon as needed. His teamwork was paying off. As the gang leader, he took the biggest share of the cash. Not only was he building up a tidy stack of money but his reputation in the criminal world was also gaining momentum. People feared him, and Peter relished the feeling of power he held over them.