Comatose by Graham Saunders
Chapter 13
Tony was completely unable to come to terms with the twist of fate that had conspired to turn his world upside down again. He already knew that John Mason, the professional the infallible assassin, had failed in his mission. But now he had discovered that his sister had come out of her coma and was now expected to make a full and rapid recovery. He thought of Emily, their half shared childhood, the way they seemed to have drifted apart. He remembered the time he had inadvertently burst in on her in the bathroom. She would have been hardly yet a teenager, naked under the folds of a towel. The door lock had never worked and she turned to look at his shocked face, innocent with her budding breasts speaking of the woman yet to blossom. He could already feel, even then, that she was leaving him behind. He felt sadness that he had never quite been able to accept her. There had always been a divide... He saw now that the divide was of his own making.
He showed outwardly all the expected emotions that might be expected from a brother at his sister's recovery. But Tony felt like a fraud... Emily had no idea who he really was, what he was capable of. Even from her hospital bed, she still gave him the sisterly love that he felt unworthy of and could barely return. The practicalities of his troubles would not let him rest. His hopes of finding an easy source of money had been snatched away with such a suddenness, a suddenness matched only by sister's unexpected recovery, that he had been left stunned and groping for a new solution. He hated the mixed feelings towards Emily that tore him apart but could not be suppressed. He knew well enough what a normal person should feel towards a sister but was incapable of being that normal person. In his own way he did love his sister but the lost opportunity, the money from the sale of the cottage still gnawed at his bones each night as he tried to sleep.
Tony carried on, what else could he do? But as the days passed he slowing shrank deeper and deeper into himself. He kept a low profile, not only from Costard and his thugs but also from his mother and especially his sister who's eyes he could barely meet as she smiled at him with sibling love. His connection with the attempt on Emily's life, although he had a cast iron alibi for the time, was still enough for him to fear the tread of the police. As for the impending bullion job the weight of that, now that he could see no escape, was folding in on him, tighter and tighter until he felt in danger of being crushed out of existence.
Dark, dark thoughts were swimming in his mind as he slinked back to his car after a depressing day at work. His boss had called him into the office telling him to smarten his ideas up if he wanted to keep the job. Tony had let too many easy sales slip through his fingers lately and did not seem to have his mind on the job. As he walked through the late afternoon, barely aware of his surroundings, he felt the need for a hit of Costard's medication to ease his pain. These days he seemed to need more and more just to keep him on an even keel, there was no longer any pleasure to had from his white mistress. He was living one day at a time, each day without encountering Costard and his gang of thieves was seen as a victory. But he knew that each day only drew the inevitable closer. He scuttled along the footpath with head down and hands in pockets trying to be invisible. But it was bound to happen... A strong grip on his elbow pulled him into a dusty, graffitied side alley.
"Tony... been keeping your phone turned off? You're a hard man to find these days." The voice spoken with menacing softness into his ear came from John Mason.
"Yeah, you know how it is John..." Tony sniffed his head bobbing nervously. Mason nodded – he did know how it was.
"I know all about keeping my head down." Mason said. "Look Tony I don't have to tell you that things turned to custard with that small enterprise I was undertaking on your behalf."
"No, I kind of noticed that... it was a pity."
"Let's walk for while... We can go down here."
Mason indicated a route down the narrow wind-blown alley which led to Somerville Park where they could walk unnoticed and their words would disappearevaporate into the wind.
"You know I was reluctant to take the job Tony. It's always complicated when these things involve family members, too many connections that can come back and bite when you aren't expecting it. I still don't know what went wrong; I was seconds away from..." There was a brief pause as Mason found the appropriate words.
"From delivering my package, when some guy burst in and I was lucky to walk away unseen. Someone must have let something slip about the operation."
The implication was clear in Mason's tone of voice.
"It wasn't me John, why would I risk spoiling my own plans... There's no one I could tell anyway."
"But Tony, the only two people who knew what was happening were you and me... Am I right?"
Tony shrugged.
"I swear, I said nothing."
"OK, There's no point in making a big deal about this, let's just put it down to an unfortunate coincidence."
They had reached the edge of the small lake and crunched along the gravel path that wound around the water's edge passing the empty benches and flower gardens bursting with spring bulbs. There was the children's playground just ahead and an ornamental bridge that crossed over a narrowing of water-lilies. Mason led the way over the bridge that crossed to a small artificial island with its decorative plantings and the large carved-stone sundial. They stopped for a moment to watch a young mother and her child as he timidly fed the ducks. The delight in the infant was plain to see, even for a man like John Mason. He nodded towards the scene.
"That takes me back to when I was a kid Tony, I used to love feeding the ducks with my sister... watching them squabble over the scraps of bread... Where did all that innocent pleasure go to?"
There was no reply from the troubled young man; his own innocent youth had also vanished, in his case thanks in no small measure to a certain toxic white powder.
"Tony, I have a level of professional pride. I never let a job go unresolved, that's really why I found you. Do you want me to complete the contract? Do you still want your sister dead?"
The words sounded harsh and callous when spoken out loud... Do I want my sister dead? No I never really wanted that... I was just taking advantage of the circumstances. he thought trying to convince himself that his decency had not entirely deserted him. Tony had not even considered this being a possibility any longer and now the temptation was offered again. It had been easy to convince himself that aiding his virtually dead sister to find her peace was a fine, possibly even noble thing to do. But now that she was well again... No the idea was a step too far he thought as he was filled with a sense of overwhelming self-disgust. He did however ponder the question for rather longer than Mason had expected before answering.
"No John, I don't think so... not now that Emily is recovering I couldn't have that on my conscience, I couldn't... sink that low."
"No... well it's your decision Tony. Let me know if you change your mind. I guess we can call the whole thing a mistake." He looked at Tony with his dark eyes issuing a warning that Tony understood well enough. He should never reveal what had happened at two pm on that particular afternoon. Tony raised his hands.
"My lips are sealed John, if I said anything, I would put myself in the frame."
"Tony... Mate... Understand this. It's not the police you would need to worry about."
Tony felt suddenly sick.
"I'll see you later Tony." Mason turned on his heel and started to walk back across to the gravel path. The vibration of his footsteps on the bridge were echoed in the lake and caused Tony's reflection in the dark green water to ripple and blur. After a few paces Mason turned round and said, as if it were an afterthought:
"By the way; Jimmy would like you to call him... Make it today Tony, you know he's short on patience."
The message cut into Tony like a scalpel. He looked back at the idyllic scene, the spring sun was starting to set pink and gold in the western sky and the pretty young mother, clearly devoted to her child, was enjoying the moment that would probably linger long and ch
"Tony, thanks for calling old son. I want to bring you up to speed on the job; get yerself down to the warehouse at eight tonight, we can have beer or two and relax up before the big day."
Once again Jimmy Costard had pulled Tony's strings and he had no option but to jump.
Tony arrived at the warehouse a little later than Costard's invitation had proposed. He stopped just beyond the open gate, getting out he leaned against the side of car and breathed in the cool night air, the Fiesta's cooling engine was still clicking its tongue to itself in complaint. Reluctant to go in he looked up at the warehouse. Caught in the street lights he noticed for the first time a sign fixed high above the door. 'Biddenfield Trading Ltd' it said. as if the premises could lay some claim to legitimacy. From inside he could hear a radio playing some sugary country music and the occasional sound of voices raised in laughter. Eventually he gathered his courage and went inside with nothing remotely approaching enthusiasm. There appeared to be an atmosphere of general jollity fuelled, no doubt, by the expectation of an imminent big pay day.
"There you are Tony, come on in. Hope you've been keeping your driving skills honed... It's all due to kick off any time now."
The usual gang were all there including John Mason and a face he did not know that belonged to an attractive woman, elegantly sophisticated, dressed in white furs and pearls. She looked stunning, completely out of place in this company and Tony knew instantly that he could never have seen her before. Nor could he imagine what she was doing there. The woman had the bearing of a well to do business woman dressed for a night out. When she spoke, the illusion was not shattered.
"Tony, pleased to meet you at last. I understand you are quite the accomplished young driver." She held her manicured fingers out to him. Her smile was completely disarming. Surely she's not flirting with me Tony thought. He just nodded self-consciously to her as he took her hand, feeling himself squirm slightly. He noticed that the BMW was still in the corner draped respectfully with the tarpaulin, it occurred to him that at least he would not have to lift another car. A small mercy.
"Get the boy a beer Kev... pull up a chair and make yourself comfy Tony."
It felt like being invited in out of the cold to the comfort offered by a pack of hungry wolves. The idea of making himself comfortable among this collection of disparate faces might have provoked laughter if the balance of his mood had not been tipped so far in the other direction. He gulped down a long draught from his beer eagerly seizing whatever opportunities came his way to take the edge off his senses.
"Now, Tony, the plan – and this is the real deal – no more dry runs so listen up... the plan is to hold up Millers Coin and Bullion Exchange at the top of the High Street, maybe half a mile up from the bank that we did over the other day."
Kevin laughed: "Yeah you wish." But Jimmy ignored him.
"You must know the place Tony." Tony looked blank but Costard continued: "So the escape route will be more or less the same as the one we did the other day... Yeah good driving on that one by the way, pity it was just a dress rehearsal."
Costard smiled at Tony, for an instant Tony almost mistook it for genuine warmth, the smile of friendship, but the feeling soon left him, a transitory misunderstanding. Costard's smile when you examined it more closely did nothing but reveal the horns that sprouted from his receding hairline.
"I've got some inside information that there's a large delivery of them Krugerrands and gold bars due. The place sells to well off investors who like the idea of holding gold rather than letting the bank play with their cash. Mostly villains I bet... But so are the fucking banks for that matter."
He paused to allow his band of merry men to laugh. They obligingly took the cue. Mason kept his non-committal expression and the femme-fatale re-crossed her slender legs and adopted what Tony took to be a somewhat superior smile.
"The delivery will be on Friday afternoon in two weeks' time, we'll saunter up a little while later and unburden them of the heavy load."
Emboldened by his third can of larger Tony found the courage to make a comment. On balance he wished that he had held his tongue: "So how are you going to convince them to hand the gold over? A place like that must have top of the range safes and security systems."
"I like a man who can ask an intelligent question Tony. Nice to see you're taking an interest. That's where the lovely Annabel comes in. She's a woman of many talents... Comes from a real posh family so best behaviour Tony." He winked at the young man who flushed noticeably. "Annabel is a high class... well... let's say she's an actress and I've convinced her to play the part of an innocent customer... Let me explain."
Costard revealed his plan with a level of overconfidence that verged on smugness. Costard's apparent idea that this was going to be a walk in the park gave Tony no confidence at all.
"OK this is how it will go: Annabel will enter the bullion traders and using her natural talents, engage the salesman in conversation. She'll distract them with a flash of leg, show a bit of cleavage, you know the thing. She's well good at that." He paused for a chuckle. Annabel raised a disdainful eyebrow. "She'll let it be known that she's interested in the purchase of a decent quantity of gold. John and me will burst in with a couple of sawn-offs and demand that our cases be filled with the yellow metal. Now, and this is the good part, just to make our intentions well clear, we are going to act out a little play. Annabel is going to get on her high horse and start slagging us off like some rich bitch who's used to getting her own way and is not frightened of no villains, shotguns or otherwise. So John will let her have both barrels in her tits and she'll fall dead, covered in blood. Of course Tony, it will all be a set-up... No way would we top Annabel." He looked at her with one of his killer smiles. "Would we Annabel?"
"No darling I dare say not." Tony wondered just what hold Costard had over her.
"So the shotgun shells will be blanks and Annabel will have her own exploding fake blood strapped under her coat. The staff will be shitting themselves by now and will hand over the gold as quiet as mice."
The plan was that once the gold was taken all three would escape with Tony doing his thing as the driver. This time they totally expected the full Monty: alarms and police by the squadron They would almost certainly be chased but with Tony at the wheel the getaway would be as easy as a steak and kidney. It all sounded simple but Tony was unconvinced, he could already see the prison bars and an eternity of incarceration stretching before him.
The rest of the evening was taken up with the business of serious drinking. Annabel, who seemed to have a fondness for younger men drifted across to Tony and managed to take him to one side and engaged him in conversation. Tony guessed she would have been ten or fifteen years his senior, late thirties maybe but had lost none of her youthful charm. There was possibly the hint of a dominatrix about her demeanour and he felt himself like a moth throbbing before her candle-flame. Under other circumstances Tony may well have allowed himself to take advantage of the offer she had clearly laid before him. Annabel pouted her seductive lips in disappointment when Tony made his excuses and was finally able to slip away from the pleasures and pains that Costard's warehouse contained. Bursting into the dark chill of the night felt like an escape. He breathed in the crisp air, but the escape was nothing more than a brief stay of execution.
He was now more convinced than ever that the job would end in disaster. He considered his pitiful options. It was a choice between to equ
As was usual, Tony's finances were in chaos, all he had was a couple of weeks worth of pay in the bank and his car which was not worth much; less than he had hoped when he tried to make a quick sale. The next morning he took the Fiesta round to one of the dealers he knew and accepted the paltry offer. It was less than the car was worth but he was desperate. Revealing his plans to no one, he collected a single bag of clothes and his few personal things and caught a train; destination north, a long way north.