The Grey Man

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Kevin was at his desk. His door was closed and he was almost whispering into his mobile. 'But you said it would be here today.'

The Dutch woman at the end of the line was calm. She was used to anxious customers. 'But today isn't over yet, sir. I'll keep checking for your delivery time. If you give me your mobile number, I'll text you with the details.' Kevin gave it to her, then closed his phone.

It hadn't been a good morning. He took a deep breath and stood up, ready to go to lunch. Keep calm, Kev. He picked up his briefcase and made for the door. You've still got stuff to do.

With a prawn sandwich in one hand and the brown, now hardened, copy of the safe key in the other, he handed it to Greg at the heel bar.

'Thanks for the overdraft, Mr Dodds. It's been pretty quiet for this time of year. I'm hoping things will pick up, come spring.'

'No problem, Greg. It'll get busy. I'm sure of it.'

Greg looked at the strange brown shape, then put it into the clamp of the cutting machine. 'It's from an old safe key, isn't it?'

Kevin munched his sandwich, more out of fear than hunger. 'It's my mother-in-law's. She lost the key but for some reason she had this copy stashed away. Why she didn't just get a proper spare cut in the first place, I don't know.' Kevin was flapping. He took another bite of sandwich to keep himself quiet and checked his mobile for texts. He knew he hadn't got one because the phone would have bleeped, but he couldn't stop himself.

Greg finished cutting the key and handed it to him with the copy. 'I thought for a minute you might be planning to rob your own bank!'

'How did you guess? It was meant to be a secret. How much?'

'On the house, Mr Dodds. And thanks again.'