especially. What the hell are you playing at?’
‘Listen, when I took the job I didn’t know it was for him either.’ Archie’s voice was calm, soothing even. But to Tom it sounded as if he’d practised this speech many times, knowing how he would react. ‘And by the time I found out, it was too bloody late. We were already on the hook. You know as well as I do that you don’t muck Cassius about. Not now, not ever.’
‘Especially if the money’s good, right?’ said Tom bitterly. ‘Has a way of making you forgetful, doesn’t it?’
‘Oh, do me a favour!’
‘What’s your take, Archie? Did he promise you a few extra points for keeping quiet?’
‘The money don’t come into it. It’s a sweet deal for both of us and you know it. Straight in, straight out with a buyer lined up. You never even needed to know it was for Cassius.’ Tom stood with one hand against the wall, his head bowed, the phone pressed to the side of his head. ‘Felix, I know it’s bang out of order but maybe we should meet.’ Archie’s voice was gentle, almost pleading. ‘You know, go for a pint or something. We can plan the second job, deliver both Eggs to Cassius and then move on. If you want to call it a day after that, fine, but we got to do this one thing and we got to do it right.’
What surprised Tom most was how quickly his answer came. He would have expected perhaps some silent deliberation, some internal dialogue as he considered Archie’s position and the implications of Cassius’s involvement on them both, weighed up the pros and cons of doing nothing or agreeing to follow through on this last job. But his answer was instinctive and immediate and had required no debate.
‘I’m sorry, Archie,’ Tom stood up straight, his voice hard. ‘You should have told me the truth. This is your problem now, not mine. You can have the Egg I’ve got as agreed but then that’s it. I’m out.’ He snapped the phone shut and breathed out. There, it was done.
He looked up and flinched. When he had thrown it earlier, the ski mask had snagged on a nail. Now, as it hung there, the empty eye sockets seemed to be mocking him.
Louisville, Kentucky18th July – 2:23pm
It was the sound of the engine that finally woke him. It had broken into his dreams and gotten louder and louder until the noise had shaken him awake. The strange thing was that he had this dizzy, floating sensation as if he was still asleep. Then he remembered. The knock on the back of the head, the sudden flash of pain. Then nothing.
Blinking through the smoke, his head throbbing and awkwardly slumped forward onto his chest, his streaming eyes could just make out a steering wheel, a window, a red tube jutting into the car. The truth slowly dawned on him and his eyes opened wide with fear. Not like this, surely not like this. This wasn’t how it was meant to end.
He realized then that he was coughing, struggling to catch his breath, gasping for air as the blood raced around his head, the dull pumping of his heart echoing in his ears, the tie and collar of his uniform tight around his neck. He felt sick and random thoughts began to tumble through his head as he strained to remain conscious, fireworks of memory that exploded brightly and then immediately dimmed only for another to go off.
His Auntie May, drunk at Thanksgiving when he was eight. Kissing Betty Blake at the Prom. Falling off his bike at college and cutting his chin open. His retirement party when Police Captain O’Reilly had clapped him on the back and whispered that if he ever wanted his old job back, then it was his. The time he’d picked the phone up to do just that, but then slapped it back down in the certain knowledge that Debbie would say no. Debbie and the kids waving to him from the porch, smiling and happy and oblivious.
Debbie. At the thought of her he had started to cry, tried to wrap his guilt in grief, but found that the tears wouldn’t come now, that his arid body had begun to ignore him and his throat merely constricted further with the effort.
Sweet Lord Jesus, he prayed through the drumming in his head, let me live long enough to tell her what really happened; why I really did this; why they killed me.
Even though he couldn’t feel his legs, somehow he managed to summon the strength to beat his hand weakly against the glass, scrabble at the door handle. The handle moved, but the door wouldn’t open. The seat belt was hugging him, pressing into his stomach, crushing his chest, stopping him from breathing.
He tried to scream, but his red lips barely parted. And then, despite everything, despite the heat and the smoke and the fear, he smiled at the beautiful simplicity of it all. Gently, the sound of the engine lulled him back to sleep.
FBI Laboratory, FBI Academy, Quantico, Virginia
18th July – 11:10pm
‘You still here?’
Dr Sarah Lucas paused in the doorway to the laboratory as she pulled her jacket on, lifting her blonde hair out from under the collar. The room was dark apart from the pool of light around the computer at the far end, the outline of the person hunched in front of it silhouetted against the flickering screen.
‘Yeah,’ the outline grunted back. ‘I promised some cop in New York I’d run something through the system before I left tonight. Kinda wishing I hadn’t.’
Sarah smiled. David Mahoney was a rookie fresh out of Quantico, full of zesty enthusiasm and uncomplicated ambition. He still had a lot to learn; knowing when to say no was right up there. But that would come with time and experience. Then again, she mused, it was past eleven and she was still there. Maybe some people just never learned to say no. She put her briefcase down and stepped into the room.
‘What have you got?’
Mahoney was tapping furiously into the keyboard, his stubby fingers complementing his round, fleshy face, greasy brown hair parted on the left hand side and scooped behind his ears. He barely looked up when she peered over his shoulder, adjusting her tortoiseshell glasses on her face.
‘Get this. Some guy abseiled down to the 17th floor of a Park Avenue apartment block, stole a nine million dollar Easter egg and then vanished. NYPD forensics found an eyelash on the floor next to the safe. They figure it’s probably unrelated but wanted us to run it through just in case something showed up. It’ll only be another few seconds.’ He looked up at her, the spots on his shiny forehead glowing purple in the flickering blue light. ‘What about you? What are you still doing here?’
‘Keeping my promises, like you.’ She smiled back. ‘Here you go.’
The screen flickered red, a boxed message flashing intermittently.
‘Restricted Access – Security Clearance must be sought before viewing this file.’
Beneath it, a name and a phone number.
‘Shit.’ She swore as she read the message and stood up straight.
‘What just happened?’ Mahoney was clicking
