'Symington cocked up again?'
'Yeah, sort of.'
Linda was relieved it wasn't something she had done. 'Come on.' She pulled herself to her feet. 'Bed.'
'I think I'd better make a start on it now. I have to get some stuff done by Friday. You go on. I'll be up in a bit.'
Linda went to bed but lay on her back looking up at the ceiling. Things still didn't feel right. Kevin didn't worry about work. She rolled over, switched off the lamp and tried to go to sleep.
Kevin was back online with his mate Google. He knew what the client lock looked like, but didn't have a clue what sort it was, or how it worked. Hopefully Google would show him. He had worked out a sort of plan, but a million things were buzzing around in his mind and they had to be put into order. Kevin wasn't fazed by that. OK, so he was used to dealing with bank stuff, not robbery, but he was sure the basic idea had to be similar. A bit like when he had to decide if a customer could have a loan. If he wasn't sure, he got more information. He clicked enter.
Google came up with hundreds of different locks. It took some time but Kevin finally found what he was looking for.
Kevin sat back in his chair, pleased with himself. It was like being in a film. If it was a western, he would have been wearing a poncho and sucking at a big fat cigar. Just like Clint.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Now kevin knew how the client's lock worked, he had to find out how to pick it open. He clicked through more websites and found out that he didn't need to know. A company in Holland could send him a machine that would do the job for him. He punched in his credit-card details and pressed 'Purchase Now'. As the order went through, he felt a wave of fear. Not only had he left a record on his own PC about lock-picking, and looked up explosives on his work PC, he had given his credit-card number and taken action. There would be a record of it. If anything went wrong with his plan and the robbery was discovered, he would end up in jail. Still, if it didn't worry de Niro in The Score, then it shouldn't worry him. He would just have to make sure that he wasn't caught.
Time for tea and a KitKat. As he went to the kitchen drawer and pulled out the biscuit tin, he thought of the safe-deposit box's guard key. During the day, he had easy access to it since it was in his office safe. But even if Kevin could pick the client lock with his Dutch kit, he wouldn't be able to do it in office hours. Symington had the CCTV security screens in his office and would see him 'attacking' the client lock. He felt pleased with himself. He had just used a real lock-picker's expression. He was becoming a pro.
Even if Symington was doing his crossword and not looking up at the time, Kevin would still be on film. If there was an incident in the bank that day, if a customer slipped on a wet floor and hurt himself, the tape would have to be sent to Head Office in case the customer sued the bank. Kevin had to make sure he wasn't on any CCTV tape before he attacked the lock. He would have to do it at night when there was no risk of a customer problem. He wouldn't put the tapes in the recorders on Friday night.
He made the tea, and as he took the first bite of his KitKat, Linda appeared in her dressing-gown. 'You sure you're OK, Kev? I'm sorry for getting angry last night. It's Symington, not you. Is it really just work? I haven't done anything wrong, have I? I mean, you never stay up and—'
'I'm sorry. I'm not really working.'
Tears started to fall down her cheeks. Kevin put down his mug and rushed over to her. 'It's OK. It's nothing bad. You remember last night when I promised you the best Saturday night ever?'
She nodded.
'Well, it's a secret, and it's going to take a little work to set up. That's all. You go to bed and keep out of my way for a bit, so I can get on.' He held her close and stroked her hair until she'd calmed down. 'It's OK. I'll be up in a minute.'
'I was really worried. Look at me, crying, but…'
Kevin walked with her to the stairs. 'It's OK. Anyway, you look beautiful when you cry. Take my tea — I'll be up soon.'
Kevin could hear Linda up in the bedroom as he got back online. Maybe all those Saturday nights spent watching movies and eating toffee-covered popcorn were going to pay off after all.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Kevin was up and dressed much earlier than usual as he knew he had a lot to do before he went to work. He had barely slept. His mind had been too active. He had his regular tea and toast for breakfast, and was pouring the milk over Linda's sugar-free muesli when she came into the kitchen.
She kissed him. 'You're up early,' she said.
'Yeah, got to go. I've got stuff to do before Saturday night.'
'What stuff?'
He picked up his briefcase. 'You'll see.'
They normally went to work separately and today was no exception. Kevin took the number-eleven bus, but didn't get off at his usual stop. Today he was going to get off seven stops later, at B&Q. He put his briefcase on the seat beside him and opened it. He took out one of Linda's compact mirrors.
The compact was square, with two mirrors. He slid them out of the compact, then pulled out the clasp that held the sides together when it was closed. Now the compact was empty, and there was a hole where the clasp had been. He stuffed everything back into his briefcase. He'd need the compact, but he would chuck away the other bits later.
Last night, he had lain in bed putting his thoughts in order. He was working on de Niro's bank-robbing idea in The Score. The simpler the plan, the more likely it was to work. Kevin had come up with a simple five-step plan:
He wouldn't put any videos into the CCTV recorder on Friday before the bank closed for the weekend.
He would wait for Linda to leave for bingo on Friday, then head back to the bank. He would open the door and switch off the alarm by entering his pin number on the pad, just as he did in the morning when he got in first.
He would open the safe in his office and take the guard key for the deposit box.
He would go down to the basement and open the guard lock on the deposit box and leave the key in place while he picked the client lock and took the contents of the black box.
He'd lock everything up again, then go home so that he was there before Linda got back from bingo at around ten thirty.
There were still two problems to be solved. First, he had to open the office safe without Symington's key. That was where the compact and B&Q came in. Second, he had to pick the client lock, and that was where the Dutch kit would come in. The website had told Kevin it would be with him in two days.
Out of the window, Kevin could see the morning traffic battling into work. It felt good not to be a commuter today — or, at least, not for a while. Right now he was a real bank robber. He felt a rush of excitement. Sitting around him, office workers were reading their papers and listening to their ipods, but he wasn't. He was on his way to buy stuff to make a key just like Symington's.
He reached the stop near B&Q and ran across the car park. Even at that time of the morning it was busy with builders loading up for the day. A quick whiz round the aisles and he'd be done.
Kevin was more than fifteen minutes late for work. He had had to fill the compact with the modelling clay he'd just bought before he got the bus. Then the traffic was bad on the way into the city. Out of breath, he raced into the bank. He had run all the way from the bus stop. His briefcase was full of the stuff he had bought from B&Q and he hid it all in his desk drawers. As he was putting away the clay-filled compact, Symington burst in. This is a place of work, Dodds! You can't just come and go as you please.'
Kevin was standing behind his desk. The drawer was open, crammed with B&Q bags. 'I'm sorry, Mr Symington. The traffic was—'