Garry Disher - Death Deal

Bill? Can you come here a tick?

Whatcher want?

Can you give us a hand with a couple of boxes?

The guards tread sounded heavily on the carpet in the corridor beyond the door. Wyatt heard muttering, and the wheezing of a three-packs-a-day man. When he saw the mans fingers close around the edge of the door and pull inwards, he pushed Nurse into the corridor. It was hard and sudden and the guard slammed back against the inside wall.

Riding slipped past first, unwrapping the shotgun. He ground the barrel into the mans groin. Take out your gun, nice and slow, two fingers.

The guard fumbled with the leather strap across the butt. His thumb and forefinger shook as he lifted the revolver out of the holster. Twice it slipped out of his grasp before he got the barrel clear. Riding leaned forward, snatched it from him, put it in his pocket.

Wyatt closed the door. He left the bottom Yale unlocked but snipped the top one. He didnt want anyone coming in and he didnt want to waste too much time getting the door open again. After reporting to Phelps on the cellular phone, he pulled the balaclava over his head and nodded to Riding to do the same. The glasses went back into their pockets.

Okay, down to the main room.

Riding went first with the shotgun, checking offices that opened onto the corridor. At the archway leading into the open space behind the counter he paused, swept his eyes around, went in.

Wyatt followed with Nurse and the guard. The long counter where the tellers sat was protected from the public by bulletproof glass that reached to the ceiling. Here behind the counter were two more glassed-off offices, desks, filing cabinets, a photocopier and fax machine, computers and typewriters. There was paper everywherein folders, pinned to the walls, stacked in cartons against the walls.

Another archway at the end led to the strongroom. Wyatt looked at his watch. Eight-forty-five. The tellers and other staff would be arriving soon. Riding helped him take Nurse and the guard around to the other side of the glass to wait for them. For the next forty minutes it would be all waiting.

They began to drift in at eight-forty-five, the assistant manager first. Riding met her at the door with his shotgun. She took in the twin black bores, his black balaclava, and started a scream that Wyatt cut off with a hand over her mouth. Take it easy and you wont get hurt. He turned her head until she could see Nurse and the nightwatchman. They were against the wall, on their stomachs under the bench where customers filled out deposit and withdrawal slips. Lie there with the others and youll be all right.

Wyatt didnt like doing it this way, but he had no choice. Ideally one man would be taking the staff to a back room as they came in, where a third man would hold a gun on them, but there was only himself and Riding so they were forced to hold everyone here until theyd all arrived.

The fourth teller came through the front door at nine-ten and Wyatt shot home the lock behind her. She was pretty in a busty kind of way and, unlike the others, didnt scream or struggle. Nurse looked up at her. Angie, down here with us, love. Theres nothing to worry about. Its just a robbery. They dont intend to hurt us.

The manager was trying to be soothing. Angie eased down onto her knees, then swivelled to one side, awkward in a binding skirt, and finally stretched out. One of the other women was sobbing. A young male teller gulped and shuddered and Wyatt realised he was trying to control his breathing.

Wyatt knelt where he could be seen and asked them all to lift their heads and look at him. Nurse, the guard, the assistant manager and four tellers. Too many. He didnt like it. His cheek itched under the balaclava. He scratched it absently with the front sight of his.

Angies eyes went wide.

I want you to listen. We dont want to hurt anyone. If you do anything foolish then of course we will hurt you. At twenty-five minutes past nine the strongroom time locks will spring open. Mr Nurse will then open the combination locks. We will empty the vault. It should take no more than five minutes, and then well be out of your hair. Do you understand?

They all watched him, some anxious, some frowning, trying to plumb for meaning beneath the words. How could he tell them there wasnt a meaning, that he meant exactly what hed said? He turned to the fat manager, who was biting the inside of his cheek. Tell them, Mr Nurse.

Just do as the man says. Company policy on this is very clear: if theres a robbery in progress, dont interfere. These men will be gone before customers arrive.

Wyatt nodded. Good. Now I want you all to stand up.

He backed away from them. Turn around, he said.

They saw Riding, the gaping shotgun barrels, and instinctively closed up. Nurse put his arm around Angie briefly.

Now to the other side of the counter, Wyatt said.

Riding motioned with the shotgun and they took them through to Nurses office and told them to lie on the floor again. Riding stood watch in the doorway, his shotgun trained on their backs. Wyatt took Nurse with him to the strongroom, then spoke into the cellular phone. You there?

Phelps answered immediately. Yep.

Put the wife on.

Wyatt handed the phone to Nurse. Talk to her. Tell her everythings all right.

They had done this every ten minutes. Nurse said pretty much what hed said the other times Yes, Im fine. Are you okay? Mignon, is she okay? Id better go nowand handed the phone back to Wyatt.

It was now almost nine-twenty-five. Wyatt said, Stand by, into the phone and placed it in his pocket.

They waited. The sound was soft, a buzz followed by the gentle clunk of well-tooled metal parts moving. Wyatt nudged Nurse. Open it.

Nurse needed both hands to start the massive door, then it swung easily, finely balanced and as thick as a mans head. The inside walls glittered, polished steel. There were shelves of documents and a large safe fitted with two combination locks.

Now the safe. No bullshit.

Outside there were distant sirens. The incendiaries. Nurse stopped what he was doing, an expectant look on his face. Theyre going to a fire, Wyatt said. He thumbed back the hammer on his. 38. I said no bullshit.

Nurse seemed to lose heart a little, his shoulders drooping, showing the strain. He leaned forward and spun the top dial clockwise and anticlockwise, repeating it with the bottom one. Then he stepped back, hauling the door open, and Wyatt smacked him with the. 38. Nurse dropped like a stone.

Wyatt spoke into the phone, Were in, and dropped it back into his pocket.

The money was in eight metal strongboxes, verifying Anna Reids information. There was also a large police revolver and cash stacked on a shelf in paper bands, the banks own holdings. Wyatt filled his pockets with the loose cash then hauled out the first strongbox and ran with it toward the corridor. He passed Nurses office. He said nothing. Riding said nothing.

At the back door he stopped, put down the strongbox, wedged open the door, ran out to the Volvo. He lifted the boot and ran back for the strongbox. About one minute had passed. He calculated that they could be out of there in another five.

He tossed the strongbox into the Volvo and was back in the corridor when he heard the boots on the asphalt outside.

They had been waiting for him on Sunday night. Intercom system, security locks, first floor apartment with alarms and barred windows and balcony, and they were in his lounge room waiting for him. Lovell hadnt seen the black limo parked outside so it must have been around the back somewhere. Mr Bone, he said.

Bone was grey, long-faced, with the balding look of a sly monk or scholar. Lovell had never seen him without his charcoal grey suit and black tie and the only time hed seen the man alone was twelve months ago, when Bone had hailed his taxi and heard his story and made him an offer he couldnt refuse. At all other times Bone was with his driver, a big-jawed man who liked to bounce on his toes and keep his hands curled at his sides.