‘Just get it, keep your eyes and fingers out of it,’ Dix had warned her. ‘And bring it to me.’
Red rag to a bull. There was no way she could resist a peek. At first she could see nothing to make her afraid. There was something wrapped in an oily cloth, and a small biscuit tin which used to contain shortcakes. She extracted the biscuit tin and flicked it open with her nails. Her jaw dropped.
It was packed full of wads of Bank of England notes. There was also a Halifax Building Society passbook on top of the money. She opened the book slowly. Her jaw sagged a little further when she saw the balance of twenty-two grand, plus change.
She replaced the book and closed the tin. Next she pulled out the object wrapped in the grubby rag and placed it reverentially on the kitchen floor.
Without unwrapping it, she instinctively knew what it was. A horrible, nasty, dirty feeling overcame her.
She peeled back one corner of the rag, then another, then another until the contents were revealed.
A handgun and some bullets. She knew nothing about weapons. Did not know it was a 2 inch barrelled Smith amp; Wesson Model 10 revolver, 38 calibre. All she knew was that her boyfriend, whom she loved and trusted, was keeping a gun and some very suspicious amounts of cash on her premises without her knowing about it.
She slowly re-wrapped the gun and placed it back in the carrier, terrified it would go bang at any moment, then breathed out.
She knew she should have called the police there and then, but for some unaccountable reason a frisson of excitement buzzed through her belly. Shortly after she was on her way to see Dix.
Another check in the rear-view mirror: still two cars behind.
Debbie drove towards the M55, joining the motorway at junction 3 and travelling east towards Preston. She cruised along at sixty, making it quite hard for Marty because not many people drive at such slow speed and it felt odd to hang in there behind her, but he did not have much choice.
He tailed her on to the M6. She came off at junction 29 and drove towards Bamber Bridge on the A6. He was behind her when she turned right towards Sainsbury’s, then immediately left on to the Premier Lodge car park. He drove past and pulled into Sainsbury’s, a smirk on his face. So that’s where you’re holed up, he thought.
Dix was in room 34. Debbie walked straight past reception, up the stairs and along the corridor to the room. She knocked quietly. The door opened after a delay and Dix drew her in, checking the corridor before closing the door.
She dropped the carrier bag on the wide double bed. ‘Dix. . what the hell is happening?’
Before she could finish her remonstration, he grabbed her and kissed her hard on the mouth. There was a modicum of resistance for a few fleeting moments before Debbie’s legs turned to jelly. Her hands went to the back of his neck and she inserted her tongue into his mouth. They kissed and held each other for a long time. Then she pushed him away, brushed back her hair and decided to get down to business.
‘I want to know what the hell?’ she blurted again. He stopped her mid-stride by placing a fingertip over her mouth.
‘Were you followed?’
She shrugged uncertainly. ‘I don’t know. . I don’t think so.’
‘Mm,’ he said sceptically. ‘You got all my stuff?’ He nodded at the carrier bag on the bed.
‘And I looked.’ She folded her arms.
‘Thought you would,’ Dix said lightly.
‘How dare you keep a gun in my house?’ she said indignantly.
‘Shush.’ He smiled. ‘Have a look at this.’
He beckoned her to follow him across the room and picked up the holdall from underneath the dressing table. Slowly he unzipped it and revealed the contents. ‘Voila!’
Somehow she managed to keep her face straight.
‘How much?’
‘With what I’ve got in there,’ he pointed to the carrier bag, ‘about three hundred thousand give or take a few gs.’ He re-zipped the bag.
‘Who does it belong to? Marty Cragg?’
‘Sort of,’ he answered vaguely.
‘You absolute nut case,’ she said and sat down on the edge of the bed, shaking her head despairingly.
‘No, no, no — not if we go, get out of here. . Spain or summat.’
‘We? I can’t just leave,’ she said. ‘I’ve got a house, a job, me mum and dad.’
‘You could come eventually though, couldn’t you?’ His eyes pleaded. ‘I love you like mad.’
She softened. ‘We need to sit and talk this one out, Harry. . I mean, is there enough to live on for the rest of our lives? Because that’s what this means, you know. The rest of our lives.’
There was a sharp knock on the door. Both froze, staring at each other. A feeling of dread rushed through Dix, from his teeth right down to his toes.
Marty rapped on the door again, feeling very confident that things were going to turn out right for him at last.
‘Come on, Dixie,’ he called softly, ‘I’m not going anywhere and nor are you.’
He could feel Dix’s single eye on him through the peephole. He smiled and raised his right hand so Dix would have a clear view of the gun he was holding in it. The door unlocked and Dix opened it slowly and had the muzzle of the gun pushed against his forehead.
‘Back into the room,’ Marty said.
Dix walked back, a pained and very pissed-off expression on his face. Debbie was sitting on the bed shaking visibly. Marty smiled at her. ‘We meet again, Debs. You sit next to her,’ he told Dix. ‘I fervently hope you’ve got my dosh, Dix my boy.’
‘In the bag. . and it’s not your money,’ Dix said. ‘It’s Ray’s.’
‘No, you’re wrong there. It’s mine — all mine.’ Marty perched a cheek of his bottom on the edge of the dressing table and pulled the holdall to him. ‘So you didn’t drown then?’
Dix remained silent.
‘Just decided to keep my money instead. Naughty boy. How can you live with yourself being so dishonest?’
‘Same as you, I guess.’
Marty tipped his head back and roared with laughter. ‘Nice one. Always liked your sense of humour. His jocularity faded as quickly as it had arrived. His face became hard and uncompromising. Keeping an eye on Dix and Debbie, the gun pointed loosely in their direction, he unzipped the bag and glanced in. ‘Is it all there?’ He inserted his hand and it came back out with a few packs of money. ‘Or have you bought yourself a Roller yet?’
‘It’s all there,’ Dix confirmed, ‘less some expenses.’
Marty pouted. ‘And what’s in that bag?’ He gestured to the Safeway’s carrier on the bed.
‘It’s mine, nothing to do with you.’
Marty snorted. ‘Bring it to me,’ he told Debbie. She did not shift. ‘Now, please,’ he reiterated and pointed his gun at Dix, ‘or I’ll just blow this fuck away here and now.’
Debbie and Dix exchanged a glance. He gave her a reluctant nod. She picked up the bag and placed it on the dressing table next to the holdall. Marty reached in and prised the lid off the tin. His face glowed with pleasure. ‘Your nest egg, I presume. How much?’
‘About fifteen,’ muttered Dix.
‘And a gun as well, if I’m not mistaken.’ He unwrapped a couple of corners of the rag to confirm his suspicion. His hand emerged from the bag with Dix’s Halifax Building Society passbook in it. He manipulated it open with one hand. When he saw the balance, his eyes opened wide. ‘Twenty-two? Bloody hell, Dix, you’re a rich man. Sadly, you’ve made some very unwise investments and you’ve lost all your money — to me.’ Marty was thinking quickly. This was too good an opportunity to miss. ‘For all the trouble you’ve caused, this is the cost of it.’ He shook the Halifax book.
‘No,’ said Dix.
‘No what? Actually, yes — every penny. All this cash and the balance in the Halifax. That’s the price you pay, Dix, when you get greedy. Think yourself lucky, you could be dead as well. So what we’re going to do is this, we’re going to settle down here for the night, all three of us. Cosy, eh? Then in the morning you’re going to go to the Halifax and cause all that money to be transferred into another account in another bank, the details of which I’ll give you — then I’ll see how I feel. How does that sound?’