When the two men finished stowing the large sports bags into lockers 134 and 138, they locked the doors and checked they were secure. They left the area at a brisk pace without looking back. Max stood up and followed at a safe distance, ensuring that they had left the building.
Collecting the cash was always risky, because the owner or the police might be watching the locker. So far, Max had not noticed anyone suspicious. With his heart rate soaring, he approached the locker and opened it with his plastic key. He quickly removed the heavy bag, leaving in its place a letter he had drafted the previous evening, relocked the door and left.
“Star, I am coming out with the first bag. What are you driving, and how long before you reach the drop off and pick up area?”
“Dark blue, small BMW and pulling in now, back end of the traffic queue.”
“Pop the boot as I approach. I will put a bag in. Go around again when I shut it and I will go back for the other bag.”
Star watched Max blend with the crowd as he came out of the entrance. He stopped, looked around and dashed for the car. The boot popped, in went the bag, the boot slammed shut. Star darted out into the moving traffic.
Again, Max looked around, hoping that if he had been observed, the enemy would have been easily spotted, charging towards him. To his relief, everyone was hell bent on getting away from the station.
He re-entered the building and fumbled for the next key. Was it 138? In his haste, he was not sure. Yes, it was 138, he remembered its position. Fumbling through the keys meant he was not looking out for trouble. Thank goodness, he thought, when he found the right key.
Max suddenly became alarmed; he spotted a familiar face in the crowd. Not one of the gang, but the young man was prowling the area and looking at passengers. He did not appear to be looking at the lockers particularly, so Max opened 138 and yanked out the bag. More cash, he judged by the weight and feel of the bundles in the bag when it bumped his leg as he walked briskly to the car.
“Star, I’m coming out. Where are you?”
“Stuck in traffic, impossible to say how long. I’m several streets away.”
“Go to the flat, park the car in the basement and leave the bag in the car. Take a taxi to the bedsit and wait for me there. I’ll grab a taxi.”
“All understood. Grab a taxi and I’ll see you back home.”
Max was glad to be in the taxi, but still kept checking for vehicles following him. Quickly convinced he was in the clear, he didn’t take a convoluted route back, but stopped a short distance away from the bedsit. Once safe inside the dingy room, he checked that it was actually cash in the bag, and hid it under the bed. Not that he thought it was secure there, but he wanted it out of sight in case Bill barged in uninvited. Max went back again by taxi to collect the scooter. He returned it to Bill and gave him the usual fee for using it.