Easy As Falling Off A Bike pt 1190.

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The Daily Dormouse.
(aka Bike)
Part 1190
by Angharad

Copyright © 2010 Angharad
All Rights Reserved.
  
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“Just what is this place?” We walked into a plush modern building all glass and marble but with no sign to indicate what it actually was.

“Keep your eyes open and your mouth closed and act as if you own the place.”

Jim led me to the counter which I presume was reception. “We’d like to examine a deposit box.”

“Do you have your key?”

“Yes, well my wife does, Kate if you could...”

I reached into my bag and fiddled for a moment before bringing out the bunch of keys. The woman behind the desk picked out the small key and examined it. Then she tapped in a number on the computer keyboard. Is that why they call them keyboards? I wondered–it was safer than thinking why and what we were doing.

“Follow me,” said the woman her bum swaying in her tight skirt and skyscraper heels and despite his claims to be gay, Jim’s eyes seemed glued to her gluteal muscles and sub-cutaneous fat.

We entered a private room with a desk or table in the middle of it upon which a large locked box was standing. The receptionist handed me back the keys and told us to press the bell on the table when we’d finished.

I picked up the keys and selected the deposit box one, I looked at Jim and he nodded. I inserted the key and turned the lock. Opening the box I wasn’t sure what I expected to find inside.

It was a series of manila envelopes, inside which we found treasury bonds–at a quick calculation there was over five million pounds. Beside that there was a hundred thousand pounds in fifty pound notes and some diamonds. The box was completely full.

Jim pulled a folded up cloth bag from his pocket and stuffed the bonds, money and diamonds into it.

“What are you doing?” I gasped, shocked by his action.

“This is mob money, I’d like to see it do something for charity, like build a hospital or school in Africa, feed the homeless at Christmas or pay for hostels for those on the streets.”

“What will they do?”

“Who, the homeless or the mob?”

“The mob.”

“Take out a fatwa on us, but so far they haven’t caught up with me.”

“I’m a bit more vulnerable than you with six children.”

“True, but think of all the good this evil money can do.”

“I am, I’m sure it could do loads, but I’m still worried about the risk.”

“There’s a High Street Bank just round the corner, let’s open a deposit box there and at least make it safe.”

“Um–I don’t kno–um, okay.”

“Oh and you get to keep the key.”

“Why me?”

“Because you’re far more responsible than I am. I’d be tempted to spend it.”

We left the bank, after locking the keys in the box except the box key. Jim handed that back to the receptionist. “Should someone come asking for that box number, please give them the key.” We strolled out before she could answer.

“Was that wise, now they’ll know we stole their cash?”

“I don’t think it would have taken very long for them to look inside the box, there are safeguards for people who lose keys, you know, mother’s maiden name, that sort of thing.”

“MacDonald,” I answered.

“Yes I know.”

“Is there anything you don’t know about me?”

“Oh lots, like how the hell you’re breast feeding and how you have saved so many lives.”

“So many lives?”

“Yes, the children at the QA and various other people.”

“Who?” I bluffed.

“Look, Cathy, I know about the miracles you perform–a perfect little angel, you are, which is why you’re going to have the keys for this little lot, oh after I remove my fees. Ten K should do for the action the other night and continuing protection.”

“Am I still at risk?”

“Only as long as the Don Corleone of Sarf Lunnun is alive.”

“Perhaps we should take the money back, it’s worth nothing compared to my family.”

“Very well said, but I have a little plan to minimise the aggro.”

“I’m not sure I’m going to like this.”

“You probably won’t, but it’s very simple–we kill the bad guys.”

We?” I gasped.

“Okay, I do the actual vermin control, you just act as the tethered goat.”

“I don’t like this, have we got a plan B?”

“Only reversing positions and I suspect I might be a bit better at the despatching bit.”

“Definitely.”

We entered the High Street Bank and after talking with the manager for a few moments–all right, I name dropped–my pa-in-law’s to be precise–and they provided a new deposit box which we locked after James removed ten thousand and I kept the key–actually, I asked them to send it to my local branch and for them to place it in a new deposit box and hold the key for me and only me, unless I was deceased and in which case to be given to Simon or Trish if he predeceased her.

Jim waited for me while I set this up unknown to him. I scribbled instructions on a note for Simon and had it sent through their internal mail system to his office.

“Happier now?” he asked.

“Yes, even if your plan fails, they can’t get their money back.”

“My plans never fail.”

“They could just shoot us down in the street,” I complained and shivered in the unseasonable cold.

“If they did they’d have to get past the two snipers who’ve been covering us ever since we got out of the car.”

“I can’t see them.”

“If you can, their training has been wasted.”

“How do they know where we’re going?”

“Duh,” he said, then I realised he knew exactly where we were going before he picked me up. I blushed.

“Watch out for the big black BMW, the one in need of a paint job–that will have pissed him off almost as much as emptying his piggy bank.”

“Doesn’t he have another car?”

“Undoubtedly, probably another similar one or a suitably large Mercedes in which to carry his ego.”

“And driving round in a Porsche isn’t?”

“You were rather glad of its acceleration a little while ago if I recall.”

“My little Mercedes is quite nippy.”

“Enough to outrun six litres of V12 BMW?”

“There are speed limits, you know?” It was a dumb thing to say seeing as I’d ignored them to escape our pursuers.

“I’ll let you think about that for a moment,” he said, then smirked when I blushed.

“Is his car bullet proof?”

“I have no idea, we’ll find out in a minute.”

“How do you know that?” I looked at him being able to predict so many of these things. He nodded up the road and double parked at the roadside maybe two hundred yards away was a large black BMW with its engine running, the exhaust was clearly visible in the cold and relatively still air.

“Don’cha just wish you were sat in the Porsche right now?” he said quietly.

“We could run for it.” I suggested, ever the optimist.

He felt inside his jacket and adjusted something.

“What’s that?” I asked knowing what it was.

“This here is a Smith and Wesson 500 magnum, even more powerful than Dirty Harry’s most powerful handgun. It’ll stop an elk, so a rat shouldn’t be too much trouble, should it?”

“What’s that he’s holding out of the window?” I asked noticing it wasn’t a shotgun or a handgun.

“It looks like a Mac 10 with silencer.”

“Whatever that is?”

“Just let’s say it can put a thousand holes in you in a minute.”

“A trifle excessive if you ask me.”

“I’ll remember to later–when I say run, get the fuck out of here.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll tell you later.”

I looked up the street and the car started to move slowly towards us.

“Go–GO,” he shouted and pushed me away as he walked towards the centre of the road. I froze for a second then did as I was told–ran like fuck.

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