The Grey Man

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Kevin closed the main doors of the bank, opened his briefcase and took out his small yellow B&Q torch. He used the shaft of light to take him through the darkness towards the security door and into his office.

He had kept his work clothes on for this evening, thinking that if he looked the part it wouldn't seem strange when he went into the bank at night. He had quite fancied wearing black overalls like de Niro did in The Score, but he'd thought they might look a bit odd on the bus home. Besides, he needed his briefcase to carry the contents of the safe-deposit box. An office suit and raincoat were more appropriate.

It had been easy getting into the bank. He had put his PIN number into the door alarm and left all the other alarms on. It wasn't as if he was going to attack the main vault, or blow his way in through a wall.

With the torch in his mouth Kevin knelt by his office safe and pulled the copy of Symington's key from his jacket pocket. He could hear shouts and thudding music from the two pubs further along the street. He had never been in this part of town so late at night. It was packed with young guys out for the night and most of them were pissed.

Slowly he turned the copy key and heard the clunk of the lock as it opened for him. He had done it! All he had to do now was open his own lock. He left the copy key in the safe lock, ready to secure it later. One of the lock picking websites had told Kevin that if a cut works first time, why take it out to maybe not work a second time?

With the torch in his mouth and dribble trickling down his chin, Kevin fished for the deposit-box guard key. He got up, picked up his briefcase and turned towards the door, lighting up the anniversary card and chocolates that Gary, Alice and Margaret had given him that morning. He had forgotten to take them home. It had been a nightmare trying to act as if today was like any other. Kevin had kept to his office as much as he could. He had been worried his face would give away his secret. He placed the card and chocolates in his briefcase and headed for the stairs.

Linda was at bingo with her mum and was never home until just after ten thirty. The bus to town had been twenty minutes late so he was cutting it fine. But he should still have enough time to get the bus home and be on the sofa watching The Great Escape when Linda came in.

At the bottom of the stairs, Kevin unlocked the door with his own key, opened it and pointed the torch at the wall of steel deposit-box doors on the other side of the room. A few more shouts came from the road, but they were soon cut off as Kevin closed the door behind him and turned on the light.

He was no longer thinking about what he was doing. He put the guard key into the deposit-box lock and turned. It opened with a gentle clunk. Kevin wasn't sure if it was excitement or fear that was making him feel a little light headed. He knelt in front of the boxes, opened his briefcase and pulled out his Dutch kit. It was an automatic lock pick that looked like an electronic screwdriver. But instead of a driver head sticking out the bottom there was a thin shaft of metal.

Kevin sat down with the instructions. He had spent many Friday nights reading instructions, usually for Ikea wardrobes, not 'How to Break into a Deposit Box'.

He put the two batteries into the back of the pick and read on. It seemed simple enough. He switched it on, stood up and put it into the client lock. There was a gentle humming sound but the lock didn't budge. Kevin tried again. The lock opened. Success!

He stepped away from the box with the pick still in his hand. He turned it off, suddenly scared. This was it. He was going to rob the safe-deposit box. Kevin reached out and opened the steel door. It swung back with a gentle creak to reveal the black box. His fear left him.

He opened his briefcase, then reached inside the deposit box.

Suddenly, the bank's alarms ripped through the building. Fuck!