The Perfect Murder Page 2

  Dave traced his gloved finger along the plans before continuing authoritively. ‘The route’s used for the underground sewage workers, so access won’t be a problem. So what do you reckon?’

  Mike looked at Dave, his beady eyes staring out of the demonic mask he was wearing. ‘Oh yeah, sounds great … one thing though … how the fuck are we supposed to get through the back wall?’

  ‘With these little beauties.’

  Dave Cole held up a handful of explosives; the same ones that Jay had placed on the teller’s window.

  ‘The back wall sits next to the gas pipe. Place these babies on the wall … boom!’

  ‘You’re fucking crazy. The whole place will go up.’

  ‘I repeat, put your weapons down. Come out with your hands on your head.’

  The police tannoy sounded again, interrupting the conversation. Dave pulled Mike into him. ‘Look, we ain’t got many options, unless of course you’ve got any better ideas. But I for one, am going to get the hell out of here. You can stay here for all I care, but me? I’m already smelling freedom.’

  Dave grabbed his bag and signalled for Jay to follow him. He pointed at the customers.

  ‘Tie them up, but we’ll need to take a couple of them with us, just in case we need some bargaining powers. Take him, her and her. The rest of them, tie them on the desks. Stick a couple of charges on them, might make them think twice about playing the hero.’

  ‘But …’

  Dave’s stare was levelled and cold as he interrupted his son. ‘Don’t talk. Don’t think. Just do it.’

  Jay and Mike bent down, quickly pulling and grabbing the customers. Mike began to separate them, pushing aside the people Dave had chosen. Pointing his gun at their heads, Mike scrambled to get the rope out of the backpack, expertly tying their hands behind their backs and on to the steel legs of the desk.

  ‘Shut up!’ He yelled at the fat woman Sheila, who began to cry; shaking and pleading for her life as he placed the explosive between her legs, strapping it on with silver tape. Next he wrapped the tape across her mouth, gagging her words of fear.

  Jay turned his head away, unable to look. As he did, he caught his father’s stare who gave him a pitiful look. He chewed on the inside of his mouth, trying to ignore the growing anxiety in his stomach and the realisation that his father would stop at nothing to get them out of there.

  10.53 a.m.

  ‘Move. Move!’ Dave echoed Mike’s words as they walked down into the vault. The corridor was quiet and the heat began to creep over Jay; stifling, squeezing the breath out of his lungs. He wanted to take the balaclava off, free himself of the cloying sensation, but he knew it wasn’t an option.

  The corridor, barely wide enough for walking side by side came to an end. In front of them was a vast steel door.

  ‘Now what?’ Mike mumbled through his mask at Dave.

  ‘Now Sheila here puts in the numbers.’

  Dave stared at the cashier, who quaked at the fact her name was being used. Her forehead was veiled in sweat and the usually rosy cheeks were pale and drawn.

  ‘Give me a minute, I have to think.’

  Dave nudged her, angry at the woman who seemed to be playing games with him. ‘You ain’t got a minute darlin’.’

  Her voice shook but her tone was firm. ‘If I don’t remember the numbers, no one’s going anywhere.’

  Dave got out his mobile phone then stuck it in front of Sheila’s face. ‘I think this will help you remember.’

  The picture was of Sheila’s daughter, Laura. She gasped, covering her face with her hands; showing her bitten down nails.

  ‘One of my men is waiting there now. All it will take is one phone call from me.’

  ‘You bastard.’

  Dave grinned. He spoke in a menacing hush. ‘Now, where were we? Oh that’s right, you were remembering numbers.’ Dave prodded Sheila again, only this time harder. She cried out, resulting in the old man who’d remained silent until now, speaking up, his elocuted voice cutting through the strained quiet.

  ‘Leave her alone.’ His grey eyes watered as he stared with derision at Dave.

  ‘What have we got here then?’ Dave walked to where the old man was standing, narrowed his eyes and leant in, a scornful look on his face.

  ‘If I were you old man, I’d keep it shut.’

  The man looked flustered but continued to stare at Dave.

  ‘My name’s Robert and I’ll do no such thing.’

  ‘Won’t you?’ With a sneer, Dave kicked away the man’s walking stick, sending him sprawling on the floor. Jay ran to help him but his father blocked his way.

  ‘Going somewhere, son?’

  Through his balaclava, Jay looked at his father and then at the old man, holding his wrist on the floor.

  ‘He needs a hand up.’

  Dave stared back, then moved out of the way towards Sheila who was putting in the code of the safe, allowing Jay to help the man.

  ‘Give me your hand.’

  ‘Get off me, I don’t need your help.’

  Jay, surprisingly stung by the man’s reaction, snarled back. ‘I ain’t doing this to help you; I just want to get the fuck out of here.’

  ‘Let him help you.’ The softly-spoken pregnant woman put her hand on the old man’s shoulders as she knelt down. Her brown hair tumbled past her shoulders and her petite freckled face was warm and friendly as she smiled at the man. For the first time Jay looked at her. He froze as a jolt of recognition hit him. His mind began to race and the whole corridor seemed to press in on him. He scrambled to his feet, almost running backwards to where his father was standing, a wealth of emotion gripping his body. He yelled out, stunning both his father and the other people.

  ‘Fucking move it! Now!’

  10.55 a.m.

  ‘Careful son.’ Dave spoke as he watched Jay place the explosives on the far side of the wall. Once it was done, he turned to everyone, gesturing them into the large walk-in safe.

  ‘In here.’

  ‘Are you fucking crazy?’ Mike looked at Dave with disbelief.

  ‘No, but if you speak to me like this again, you’ll be wishing I was.’

  ‘You really don’t expect us to hide in there do you?’

  ‘Listen, the steel safe is blast resistant. There ain’t no safer place than in there. Once the detonators explode the rest of the walls will crumble like a biscuit. And unless you want a concrete block on your head, I’m telling you this is the place to be.’

  Mike looked unsure, but as he watched Dave push everyone else in he decided he didn’t have much choice.

  Inside the massive walk-in safe, Jay looked at the pregnant woman. He walked towards her, breathing hard and feeling his chest tighten. He walked close to where she was holding the old man up. She looked at him and scowled as he spoke to her.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Jay’s voice was low and unsure.

  The pregnant woman turned her head to face Jay. She couldn’t believe this was happening to her. She hadn’t even planned to come into the bank. Christ, she didn’t even have a bank account, only a Post Office account. The only reason she’d come in here was the heat of the day had made her feel dizzy and she’d needed somewhere to sit down. She was only seven months pregnant, but it felt so much more. Wanting to distract herself from thinking about having to go to the toilet, she snapped angrily back. ‘Okay? Do you think any of us are okay?’

  ‘I was only wondering.’

  ‘It’s a bit late to do that, don’t you think?’

  She stared at Jay who turned away to speak to Sheila.

  ‘Sheila. It’ll be okay.’

  Sheila shook her head in disbelief.

  ‘Maybe it’ll be all right for you, but what about us? You think if we manage to get out of here, we’ll be able to get back to our normal lives? What goes through that head of yours?’

  Jay looked at everyone in the safe, he saw the hostile stares and felt the niggling sensation of shame and the only thing he could do was go bac
k to his default position. ‘Shut the fuck up! All of you. Do you hear me? Shut the hell up.’

  Dave hurried into the safe, hearing Jay shouting. ‘What’s going on here?’

  Jay said nothing, turning his back on his father. Ignoring the atmosphere, Dave spoke to everybody. ‘Okay, listen, I need you all to go to the far end. Get down on the ground and keep yourself tucked up. It’ll sound as if everything’s coming down on us but we’ll be safe in here. When I say “up”, you get up as fast as you can. If you don’t come when I say, well …’ Dave pulled the trigger, letting them know without words exactly what would happen to them if they got out of line.

  Jay held on to his knees, waiting for the explosion to sound. A moment later he felt a tremor which seemed to shake the whole of his insides. Clattering thuds, rumbles and roars. The old man next to him clung on to him, then realising what he was doing let go with an exaggerated movement. Then a hush. Inside the safe, the lights went down with nothing but silence, apart from the tense breathing of all inside. A voice cut through the darkness.

  ‘I’m going to put my torch on but I don’t want any of you to move and no one try to be smart by clicking any lighters or matches. There might be escaping gas and the last thing that I want to do is go up in a cloud of smoke.

  The torch light spotlighted the terrified faces of the hostages as Dave went round them one by one.

  ‘Okay, let’s go.’

  11.00 a.m.

  The safe door swung inwards, allowing the piled up rubble of bricks to fall. Dave coughed and signalled the others to follow him as the safe filled up with smoke. He began to scramble over the pile of debris, being cautious to avoid going near the sparking wires. He grinned inwardly, seeing the large hole the explosives had made.

  He turned, watching Mike and Jay help the three customers over the rubble.

  ‘Hurry up.’

  ‘You don’t expect us to go in there?’ Sheila, looked in horror as she peered through the dark hole in the wall backing on to a tiny walkway next to which was a small drop before the sewers bubbled and flowed menacingly.

  The stench was overpowering and Jay fought against the desire to be sick. It was almost pitch-black but his father’s torch light showed him all he wanted to see. The walls were slimy with a thick layer of white and grey, so thick he couldn’t even see the brickwork. The drips of watery condensation trickled down from the rounded ceiling and a steam of heat bounced off the stinking sewers.

  Dave snapped, losing patience with Sheila.

  ‘Just move it.’

  ‘It’s best to do what he says.’ Jay spoke to Sheila, trying to reassure her or perhaps it was himself he was trying to reassure.

  Without saying another word, Sheila nodded and began to make her way towards the hole. Dave shone his light enough for everyone to get their foothold.

  ‘Right, I’ll go first, then you.’ Dave pointed to Mike. ‘Then you and you.’ He pointed to the pregnant woman and then to Sheila who nodded nervously. ‘And then you.’ The instruction was to Jay. ‘Oh and old man, you’ll go at the back.’

  ‘I told you, my name is Robert. And I’ve been a customer of this bank for the last forty years and …’

  Dave interrupted the old man’s flow. ‘Why don’t I tell you something, Robert the customer. I don’t give a flying fuck how long you’ve been doing anything. I don’t give a shit. All I care about is not having any coffin dodgers holding us up. Right, now that’s cleared up I want everybody to follow me. Stand by the wall and wait for everyone else.’

  One by one, everybody made their way into the dark passage of the sewer. The pathway was only just wide enough to be able to walk without having to turn to the side, but to everyone it seemed as if they were walking a tightrope as the sewage raced past them only inches in front. They pushed their backs against the wall, immediately feeling the cold wetness of the slimy walls.

  ‘Right, I want everyone to edge forward. Come on. Everyone keep up. It’s probably best if you hold onto the person in front. Old man, you better keep up because no one is going to play nurse maid. Now let’s go.’

  But as Dave Cole edged along the pathway going deep into the passage of the sewers, what he didn’t see were the eyes of the person watching him from the other side.

  11.15 a.m.

  ‘How long now?’ Mike spoke as he walked behind Dave.

  ‘How the hell should I know?’

  ‘Well you’re the one with the map.’

  ‘Then why don’t you just keep it zipped and follow me instead of asking me all these questions?’

  ‘I was …’

  Dave cut Mike off. ‘Then don’t. Just don’t.’

  The other man watched them shuffling along the pathway as he placed the strip of grey decaying flesh in the box next to him. His eyes had become accustomed to the darkness after years of living down there. This was his home and now they’d come to visit him.

  He smiled as he watched them. The four men and two women. He could almost imagine the terror in their eyes whilst they screamed out for mercy; begging him to stop. As he lay watching them he started to dig his nails into his leg, drawing blood, letting his mind take him to where he needed to be.

  ‘I can’t see anything.’ Sheila whined as she snagged her leg on something sharp sticking out of the wall. She yelled out and bent over, resulting in her almost toppling forward.

  ‘Keep walking.’ The unsympathetic growl came from Dave. He wanted to get out of there as much as everyone else did. He hadn’t realised it was such a long way. It seemed so much shorter on the map. By rights they should almost be at the manhole, but the sewer had u-bended them and instead of them coming nearer the access point they seemed further away than ever. With a sigh, Dave continued forward, trying to understand why he felt so ill at ease.

  Jay watched the pregnant woman as he walked behind her. He wanted to talk to her but he didn’t know what words he should use. What he should say. He was desperate to let her know it was him, Jay, but he was also desperate for her never to find out either.

  ‘Did you hear that?’ Sheila turned and spoke to no one in particular. She hated the dark and her leg was beginning to hurt.

  ‘Hear what?’ Jay answered, feeling a cloying sensation on the back of his neck.

  Although Sheila didn’t want to speak to the masked man, she needed to air her fears. She had definitely heard something. What, she didn’t quite know.

  ‘A moan. It sounded like a moan.’

  ‘The only thing which is moaning down here is your frigging voice. Now shut it.’ Dave spoke in place of his son. He didn’t want to hear the hysterics of a woman at the best of times. He was aware of the time and he had a feeling they’d be all right. Hopefully the police would still be on stand-off, waiting outside for them to come out. This was the best chance they had to get to the access, but he was damned if he knew if they were going the right way.

  ‘I’m Robert by the way.’ The old man at the back, wheezed his name to Sheila.

  ‘Yes, I heard, and I’m Sheila.’

  ‘Nice to meet you Sheila, shame it’s not under better circumstances’

  ‘Can we save the niceties till we get out of here?’ Jay whispered to Sheila and Robert who were either side of him. He didn’t necessarily mind them talking, but he did want them to stop because he too thought he’d heard something. Shit. He was being ridiculous. The stress was getting to him and it wasn’t helping that he could only see the world through the slanted holes of his balaclava. He had to concentrate on getting out of there, maybe then his mind would stop wandering, hearing things that weren’t there.

  The other man could see it as he watched them. The hunt, the ambush and finally the terror on their faces as they realised that they’d made a fatal mistake in coming to his home. But they were welcome. He would make them feel welcome. He smiled a wide grin, showing off the blackness of his eyes and the pale of his skin. From within the darkness he gazed at the old man at the back.

  Robert’s heart
raced so quickly he had to lean against the wall, feeling the slime against his skin, penetrating through his shirt. His damn hearing aid was whistling. He wasn’t sure if he could keep up, the torchlight ahead was fading into the distance and the blackness of the sewer was surrounding him. Not that he was afraid of the dark; when he was young he’d worked as a miner in the pits in South Yorkshire, starting when he was fourteen years old and working through until he’d had the accident at thirty. He’d recovered but his eyes had never been the same. No, he wasn’t afraid of the dark, he was used to that; what he was afraid of was the sense of being followed.

  ‘Can you wait? I just need a rest.’ Robert called out.

  ‘I told you old man, fucking keep up or else …’ Dave yelled back, but his voice seemed distant and out of reach. As the flicker of torchlight disappeared, Robert thought he saw a glimpse of something or somebody. He leant against the wall, closing his eyes, anxious to find the strength he needed. Almost straight away he felt warm air on his face, followed by a rancid smell which overpowered the stench of the sewer. He flicked open his eyes and saw nothing. His heart began to race once more as terror took hold of his body.

  Robert knew he had to catch up with the others. He set off at a pace but almost immediately his body let him down; his legs not carrying him as quickly as his mind wanted him to.

  The person. The somebody was still behind him; he could feel it, sense them coming closer. He felt a tap on his back; automatically he turned around. He clasped his throat as the knife cut deeply. The gargle of blood sounded as he tried to call out for help before dropping to the wet floor. A moment later Robert’s body was dragged into the depths of the sewer.

  11.27 a.m.

  ‘What was that?’

  ‘Jesus, are you on repeat woman?’ Dave snapped at Sheila.

  ‘I heard something.’