The Grey Man

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

He turned off the mobile. He needed time to think. There must a way out of this. There had to be. He couldn't be locked away in prison. He had to get home to his wife. He paced up and down in the darkness. He had to bluff his way out. After all, he did have a reason to be there. He was the deputy manager, and his boss had called him in. Kevin was muttering to himself as if he were getting a football team ready to go out on to the pitch. 'Come on now. Get a grip, Kev. You can do it.'

He took a deep breath, turned on the light and opened the door. As he did so, the noise from upstairs poured into the deposit-box room. He could hear glass smashing as the contractors cleared the glass out of the window frame. He had started to walk upstairs when he spotted a policeman at the top, looking down at him.

'Who are you?' the copper asked.

Kevin was too busy to look the man in the eye. He was checking his watch. 'The deputy manager. You know where the manager is?'

The policeman looked a little confused. 'How long have you been down there?'

Kevin walked past him, still without eye-contact. 'Far too long. Got lots more to do. You seen the manager?'

The policeman pointed towards Symington's office. Kevin walked through the bank, his shoes crunching over the glass on the floor. He went into his own office. The safe was still open. Had Symington seen it?

Kevin closed his office door. He dropped the briefcase on to his chair, then put the guard key back into the safe. He locked the safe and tucked the copy key into his jacket pocket. Then he covered his briefcase with his coat and headed for Symington's office. His boss was on the phone, talking to the Head Office duty manager. A theatre programme for Lady Windermere's Fan lay on his desk next to his overcoat. There was a photo of Jessica Drake on the front cover.

'He's here at last! Lucky I got in pretty quickly.'

Symington turned to Kevin. He liked to bollock him while Head Office was listening. 'I'm supposed to be able to contact you all the time, Dodds. Why couldn't I? You're supposed to be a professional.'

'Sorry, Mr Symington. I went straight from work to a friend's nearby and didn't get my messages. I didn't hear your call. I'm sorry. I—'

Symington had put up his hand to silence him. 'Let me get on with my work, Kevin, as you should be. Wait in your office for me to carry out a deposit-box key check.' Then Symington spoke into the phone. 'No, I haven't checked the CCTV tapes yet. Just the vault and deposit boxes. I'll look at them now.'

Kevin went into his office, hardly daring to breathe. All he had to do was keep his cool, and he'd soon be able to get out of there. He switched on his mobile, and tried to keep his voice steady. 'Hello, darling. I'm going to be a couple more hours yet, so don't wait up. And I'm really sorry, but I'll probably have to come into work in the morning. Head Office security visit.'

Kevin could hear banging from the next-door office. Symington was going mad. 'Where are those bloody tapes!'

Even Linda could hear him. 'I understand. Who was that, Kevin?'

'Just Symington doing the usual. I'll see you soon, darling. I can't wait for tomorrow night.'

He switched off the phone. If he'd had one of Clint's cigars right then, he would have lit it.