Picture You Dead

54

Saturday, 2 November

Even though he’d got up early in order to beat the Saturday crowds and had arrived at the Cannon Place car park just before 10 a.m., Archie Goff still had to drive up to Level Five before he found a free parking space. It was a tight one at that, between a Porsche Cayenne and a squat sports car he didn’t recognize.

After reversing the Astra in carefully, there was barely enough room for him to squeeze out, and he had to tap the side of the Cayenne with his door. He paid no attention to the white van that followed him in, and had now driven on past.

There was a jeweller in the Brighton Lanes, Anthony Horowitz, a ten-minute walk away, with whom he had done business many times. He knew that Horowitz only stocked quality. And, Anthony owed him a favour. On the last big job he’d done, before Hope Manor, he’d held back a bunch of watches and jewellery, instead of handing them along with the rest of his haul to his fence, Ricky Sharp. He knew fine well he’d get a better price from Horowitz, even with a big knock-down. Horowitz had handed him ten grand in cash knowing the goods were worth a good fifty grand, if not more, at current retail prices. ‘I owe you one,’ Anthony had said as his parting words.

Archie intended to call in that favour now and bag himself a nice antique engagement ring for just a few hundred quid.

Less than half an hour later he was climbing, with some difficulty, wheezing, back up the car park staircase. Elated, he repeatedly patted the lump in the inside breast pocket of his bomber jacket. Checking his purchase was still there. Inside the small blue cotton-wool-lined box Anthony Horowitz had found for the ring.

He could not wait to see Isabella’s face when she popped the lid off that box to see the white-gold ring with the tiny ruby set in the head. She’d let slip some while ago that rubies were her favourite stones, and this one was just plain gorgeous.

Horowitz had tried to stiff him for £750 for it, and he’d managed to haggle him down to £500, still more than he’d budgeted to pay, but what the hell. She was worth it.

He stopped to get his breath back when he reached the fifth floor, feeling a little giddy from the exertion, his chest hammering. He felt a sharp pain in his left arm and then another down his chest, and for a moment panicked that he might be having a heart attack.

Oh God, not now, please not now.

He was hyperventilating.

Took some deep breaths. Slowly, steadily, he calmed down. Felt fine again after some moments. Although he was aware he was drenched in perspiration. Maybe he would join a gym after they got back from the New Forest. Hell, he was only sixty-four – no age today. Get his fitness up. He owed that to his future bride. Hell, he owed it to himself and to his daughter.

He walked along the deserted floor of the car park, trying to remember exactly which row he’d left the Astra in.

He never heard the soft footsteps behind him.

Never registered the single blow to the base of his neck that knocked him, instantly, unconscious.