Chapter 11
Thursday, April 22nd. 9:50am
Just as Hartley and Chandler were about to leave the office, Nicole walked in, assuming that they must have concluded their business.
‘Everything in order?’ she remarked pleasantly.
‘Of course.’ replied her husband as they continued walking in the direction of the sales area.
Nicole made her way behind the desk. And as the two men went through the door with their backs towards her, she quickly yet quietly opened her handbag which she’d previously placed on top of a filing cabinet, and made sure that the DVD case which Alf had managed to get to her was underneath her purse and keys.
She then followed them back into the shop. No sooner had she got to within two yards of Hartley, when a man’s deep voice bellowed.
‘Don’t move a fuckin’ muscle.’ said one of the men who’d so called come in to purchase engagement rings for their twin sister girl friends.
Everyone froze.
They were all both terrified and taken aback, at the sight of these two potential customers standing in front of them holding handguns, and pointing them in their direction.
‘Make one false move and you’re all dead.’
‘You two. Over there.’ The man who was clearly in charge, waved his gun, indicating that Victoria and Becky should move closer to Harley, Chandler and Nicole.
‘Now put that briefcase on that counter, and move away.’
Chandler and Hartley looked at each other in horror.
‘What the fucks going on?’ remarked Chandler
‘I could ask you the same thing.’ replied Hartley. ‘I thought you had everything covered.’
‘You can’t do this.’ said Nicole, her voice raised.
‘And who the fuck are you?’
‘I’m Mrs Granger, and I won’t let you take that diamond.’
‘The proprietor’s wife, no less.’ the gunman redirected his weapon from Hartley and Chandler, and pointed it straight at Nicole, whilst the other one kept his gun aimed at the shop assistants.
‘You keep your eye on them two,’ he said to his accomplice, ‘I’ve got her in my sights.’
‘You’ll do for insurance.’ he continued, as he walked towards her with the gun pointing at her abdomen.
Once he was close enough, the gunman grabbed Nicole’s arm and forced her to swing round. That way she would be facing the others, and he could press the gun into the small of her back.
‘Now open that briefcase and put the parcel on the cabinet, otherwise she gets it, - and so do you. The result will be the same; I still end up with the goods. The only decision you have to make is. Do I end up with the gem with you lot still alive? Or do I get the gem and your all dead. The choice is yours.’
Chandler didn’t have any options. He tilted the case in order to dial in the combination. Then he lifted the box out and placed it on the display unit, and remarked angrily.
‘I’ll get you for this. I’ll hunt you down like vermin. And when I find you, I’ll make you suffer like no-one’s ever suffered before. Nobody robs me and gets away with it.’
‘It’s a bit difficult hunting us down from your coffin, don’t you t think?’
‘I’m not dead yet.’
The man with the dark beard, turned and pointed his gun directly at him, and then remarked.
‘That’s easily rectified.’
He squeezed the trigger twice.
Bang Bang.
Everyone appeared to see the bullets leave the gun in slow motion.
The terrifying echo of the shots filled the shop, and appeared to last for ever.
Chandler’s body flew backwards with the force of the bullets. He smashed straight through one of the jewellery cabinets. It was like he’d been hit by a double-decker bus. His body weight had made contact with the unit. Rings, bracelets and necklaces went flying everywhere. There were a million shards of shattered glass all over the place.
Blood, jewellery and glass now covered the floor, and his red life fluid, splattered on the walls.
Apart from the reverberating sound from the gun, the room fell silent. The silence was almost as deafening as the gunshots.
‘Who’s next?’ he remarked, ‘or, are you all going to do as you’re told.’
No one uttered a single word.
‘I thought you’d see it my way.’
‘Mrs Granger,’ continued the gunman who was keeping his eye on her, ‘pick up that box and walk towards the door.’
Without hesitation, Nicole grabbed the parcel and made her way towards the front.
‘We’re leaving now, and taking Mrs Granger with us. If any of you decide to be a hero and try to stop us. Or make contact with the Police within the next half hour. Her blood will be on your head. And believe you me, I would have no qualms whatsoever about putting a bullet straight through that beautiful little skull.’
Becky and Victoria stood shaking in abject fear, not only for their own safety, but Mr and Mrs Granger’s as well.
Hartley remained perfectly still. Not quite as intimidated as his assistants.
‘Open the door,’ came the instruction, as the gunman pressed his weapon firmly into Nicole’s back, making her whole body stiffen.
As soon as Hartley saw his wife’s back arch and go rigid, he pressed the release button located under the till, which opened the security lock.
With the handgun pressed firmly into her back, Nicole pulled the door open, and the three of them hurriedly rushed out into the street.
Hartley spotted a light blue Ford Focus pull up directly in front of the shop, and straight away the two men, one of them forcing Nicole into the back seat of the car, pilled in.
The car did a wheel spin as it left the scene at break-neck speed.
‘Ring the Police.’ Hartley shouted without giving it a second thought.
‘What about Mrs Granger,’ answered Becky, her voice shaky, ‘they’ll kill her if we contact the authorities to soon?’
‘Look,’ he was trying to justify his actions, but thinking about the value of the gem at the same time, ‘we can’t give way to robbers and thieves, in the same way the country can’t give in to terrorists. We have to make a stand.’
‘But they’ll kill her.’ remarked Victoria understandably concerned for Nicole, ‘We all saw what they did to Mr Chandler.’
The three of them glanced over at his blood soaked body. It was a horrific sight. Seeing him lying there covered in his red life fluid, pieces of glass, and jewellery scattered everywhere. Fragments spread all over his corpse.
‘Ring them.’ instructed Hartley arrogantly, ‘the longer we leave it, the further away they’ll get.’
Reluctantly, Becky lifted the handset from its cradle and started to dial 999.
However, even though nobody had heard any sirens, and before the call was answered, two armed uniformed officers came bursting in through the door. Three police cars pulled up at the front of the building with their emergency lights flashing, instantly blocking the road.
‘Freeze.’ shouted one of the officers.
‘You’re a bit fuckin’ late aren’t you,’ remarked Hartley, seemingly more annoyed than upset, ‘they could be in Timbuktu by now.’
‘How many were there?’ questioned the officer, realising that these people were the victims, not the perpetrators.
‘Only two of them,’ answered Becky, who by now was in tears, ‘but they definitely knew what they were doing. Somehow or other, the men were well informed about what they were here to steal, and apart from that parcel and Mrs Granger, they took nothing.’
‘If I… if I didn’t know better,’ sobbed Victoria, ‘I’d say it was an inside job.’
‘What makes you say that?’
‘Well. Apart from killing Mr Chandler, everything seemed to go like clockwork.’
Just then a plain clothed detective entered, accompanied by two other uniformed officers. The casual leisurely walk of the detective, gave the appearance of someone taking a stroll round the park.
As he glanced round at the carnage, it wasn’t exactly rocket science to determine that Hartley was the proprietor, and Victoria and Becky were his assistants.
‘I’m Detective Stuart Cunningham, and I’m here to oversee the investigation.’
On first impression, you would think that a big burley bank robber, wouldn’t have too much of a problem taking him out. But I suppose looks can be deceptive.
He was reasonably tall, about five ten, and definitely not over weight. In fact he looked a tad on the skinny side. He must have been in his late 30’s, yet wore his dark brown hair, in a style that wouldn’t have been out of place in the fifty’s. Just over the ears, with a side parting. Blue eyes and clean shaven. The suit he was wearing looked like it had just come out of Burton’s window. Plain grey. No pinstripe. A white shirt with a pale blue tie, giving a good impression of, bland.
However, one defining characteristic that did come across, the fact that he was methodical and calculated. Definitely a career man. He was a man on a mission, intent on making it to the top of his chosen profession.
Detective Cunningham took an initial glance around the room.
‘Forensics and paramedics will be here shortly.’ he said as he focused his gaze at Hartley.
‘You’re the manager, I presume.’
Even though he’d initially appeared cold towards his wife’s kidnapping, the shock of what had just happened seemed to be starting to sink in.
‘Yes,’ he replied, ‘I’m Hartley Granger, the proprietor.’
‘Sorry sir, but can you speak up.’
‘What the fuck.’ snapped Hartley, ‘Are you deaf or just stupid? I’ve just had a multimillion pound diamond stolen. My wife’s been kidnapped. And the client I was working for has been splattered all over my shop. And all you can say is. Can you speak up?’
Hartley spoke in a sarcastic and derogatory manner, and was using language which wasn’t consistent with his usual vocabulary.
‘Is there another room we could use? I need to ask you some questions, and would prefer some privacy.’
Stuart Cunningham wasn’t going to allow Hartley’s angry demeanour interfere with the investigation.
‘In here.’ answered Hartley harshly, and pointing towards the office. He was starting to accept that the detective was only doing his job, but didn’t appreciate his calmness.
‘Let the paramedics take a look at the ladies, and make sure forensics have all the access they need.’ instructed Cunningham to the police sergeant. ‘But don’t let anybody touch anything, or leave, until forensics have done their stuff, and I’ve had a chance to speak with everyone.’
By this time Hartley had gone into the office and sat down at his desk.
When detective Cunningham walked in, Hartley was sat leaning forward with his head in his hands.
‘What I don’t understand,’ said Hartley. Still angry but slowly starting to come back down to earth, ‘is how the hell did they have so much information about what was going on.’
‘Why?’ questioned Cunningham suspiciously? ‘What was going on?’
‘Oh, nothing illegal.’ remarked Hartley categorically. ‘Because I’m a jeweller, I was asked to affect the transfer of a gem, from courier to the potential owner. Keeping the said gem in my safe until he arrived to collect it.’
Hartley paused.
‘Carry on.’
‘Well,’ He didn’t want to implicate himself in any wrong doing. But realised that, by accepting the fifty grand, which he’d already cashed, and would show up on his bank statement, could actually make him an accessory.
‘Due to the value of the gem. Mr Chandler, my client, asked me to take possession of it, and keep it safe until he could collect it in person.’
‘So you knew Mr Chandler?’
‘Err, well, no, not exactly.’
‘Pardon,’ Cunningham was not only suspicious, but intrigued. ‘Let me get this straight.’ He had no intention of letting anything pass him by.
‘A man who you don’t know very well, who goes by the name of Chandler. Requests that you take delivery of a diamond, which he will collect in person. Did that not start alarms bells ringing?’
Hartley knew that Cunningham would find out about the money, so there was no point in trying to hide it.
‘No. After all, he’d already paid me for the safe collection and handover.’
‘And how much was that?’
‘Fifty grand.’
‘Fifty thousand pounds?’ queried Cunningham, almost choking in the process, ‘that’s a hell of a lot of money just for looking after a diamond for somebody.’
‘Err, well, it wasn’t just a run of the mill diamond.’
‘Why, what was so special about it?’
‘It was found and mined from a seam, no more than 30 miles away from where the Cullinan Diamonds where discovered.’
‘So. What are these Cullinan Diamonds, why are they so special?’
Noticeably Cunningham wasn’t up to speed in the diamond market.
Hartley chuckled.
‘The Cullinan Diamonds, are the most desirable and valuable gems that make up the Crown Jewell’s. They are priceless.’
Cunningham tried his best not to appear ignorant. It didn’t work, but he carried on regardless.
‘Just out of curiosity, what’s this diamond actually worth?’
‘Oh, between 20 and 30.’ answered Hartley, enjoying his superior knowledge of the diamond business.
‘You mean 20 to 30 thousand pounds,’ remarked Cunningham, ‘that’s a great deal lot of money for a single stone.’
‘No.’ Hartley chuckled. ‘Try 20 to 30 million, you numbskull.’ Hartley wasn’t exactly impressed with Cunningham, ‘I did mention earlier, that I’d had a multimillion pound diamond stolen, so why are you talking in tens of thousands?’
‘I was only checking to make sure I’d heard right. But it’s no wonder somebody would want to steal it, if it’s worth that kind of money.’
He paused to give himself a second to think.
‘Your wife.’ Cunningham wanted to delve deeper and get more details.
‘You said that she’s been kidnapped by the thieves.’
‘Yes.’
‘Now why would they do that?’ Cunningham wasn’t convinced that they’d kidnapped Mrs Granger as some kind of insurance policy.
‘They already had the diamond,’ he continued, ‘all they had to do was make their getaway. So why take, pardon my terminology, excess baggage along, which they’d only have to dispose of, at a later date.’
‘What,’ said Hartley once he’d realised the implications, ‘do you think they’ll kill her?’
‘She can identify them, can’t she? These people don’t leave any trails. They don’t take chances. Anything or anybody that could lead us to them will have to be disposed of.’
‘But hang on.’ said Hartley.
‘I can identify them, and so can Victoria and Becky. So are these thugs going to come back and kill all three of us?’
‘Let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves Mr Granger,’ answered Cunningham, ‘at this moment you’re all safe. They’re not likely to return to dispose of you any time soon, well, not with us still here, anyway.’
Hartley didn’t look at all comfortable with that reply. His complexion had gone pale, and he was beginning to fidget.
‘Look,’ continued Cunningham, ‘I still need some more information.’
‘What more information do you want? They’ve stole the diamond. They’ve kidnapped my wife. They’ve slaughtered Mr Chandler, and there’s every chance that they’ll come back to kill us. What more do you want to know?’ Hartley was started to get agitated again.
‘Let’s not go down the sarcasm route, please, Mr Granger.’ replied Cunningham. ‘I see you have CCTV cameras…’
And before he could finish speaking, Hartley interrupted.
‘Of course. Why the hell didn’t I think of that? The robbery must have been recorded.’
He jumped up out of his director’s chair, and went to open the computer cupboard.
Once there, he grabbed the remote control. Pressed rewind. Then play.
The two of them stood glued to the monitor.
Nothing.
Just a blank screen.
‘What’s wrong with it now,’ remarked Hartley, ‘I only had it checked over yesterday.’
Cunningham leant over Harleys shoulder to take a look.
He glanced at the recording unit.
Everything appeared to be in order.
No wires unplugged. Nothing out of the ordinary.
‘Well there’s something not right, if the unit isn’t recording.’ remarked the inspector. ‘And you say it was only checked yesterday.’
‘Yes.’
Cunningham started to walk slowly round the office as he spoke.
‘Who was it that did the checking? You?’
‘Don’t be daft. I have a company who looks after the CCTV system.’
He’d spotted a handbag on top of a filing cabinet, and knowing that he would need a search warrant to take a look inside, Cunningham, wanting to take a short cut, was deliberately clumsy and accidentally on purpose, knocked it off.
‘Ups. Sorry.’
The contents of Nicole’s bag spued out all over the floor.
Hartley rushed over and started to retrieve Nicole’s possessions.
‘I can’t see her mobile. She usually keeps it in here when she’s in the shop.’
‘Would she not have it on her, just in case she gets a call?’
‘No, not while she’s serving.’
Cunningham was watching as Hartley looked round for the phone, thinking it could have slid further away.
He spotted a DVD case which was pocking out from underneath a number of other nick knacks which women keep in their bags.
‘What’s this?’ he queried.
‘I’ve no idea. It looks like a video.’
‘Can we take a look at what’s on it?’ said Cunningham. ‘Is there a DVD player in here?’
‘Yes.’ answered Hartley, ‘There’s one built into the CCTV recording unit.’
He walked over, leant forward a little, and found the button to open the drive.
Pressed it, and the draw slid open.
As soon as he’d inserted the disc, Hartley pressed play.
After a few seconds, the little black and white speckles which appear at the beginning of a DVD stopped, and pictures started to roll.
The first image to appear was a large, slightly blurred view of Nicole’s face, right up in front of the camera lens. It seemed as though she’d just pressed the record button on the machine, and was moving away.
As she turned, it looked like she was heading towards the front door.
Unfortunately, the sound wasn’t completely in sync, and of a very poor quality. It was just a jumble of crackles.
She opened the door, and in walked Chandler.
‘What the hell.’ remarked Hartley, clearly shocked at what they were seeing.
‘That’s Chandler. What’s he doing in the shop. Alone. With my wife.’
‘You mean he’s the man whose body is lying out there. The dead man.’ said Cunningham.
‘Shh.’ Hartley put a finger to his lips. Obviously wanting to discover, exactly what was going on.
They appeared to be speaking to each other, but neither Hartley nor Cunningham could decipher what was being said. All they could hear were crackles, and the occasional undecipherable bit of dialog.
The two men watched with intrigue as Nicole punched in the combination code which formed part of the locking mechanism. It looked like she was explaining how the security system worked.
After inserting and turning the key which completed the procedure, she pulled open the stock room door.
They made their way inside.
For a couple of minutes, Nicole and Chandler were out of sight.
Then they re-entered the main sales area.
Hartley and Cunningham couldn’t believe what they saw next.
Nicole was undoing the buttons of her blouse.
Chandler looked like he was saying something; it appeared to be some kind of objection. But he wasn’t making a forceful rejection; it was only an ‘appearing to save face’ protest.
Before Hartley and Cunningham knew what was happening, Nicole and Chandler were having sex, right there in the sales area of Hartley’s shop.
‘Enough.’ shouted Hartley, somewhat horrified, as he pressed the stop button on the remote.
A few seconds elapsed, whilst the video stopped and went through its ejecting sequence.
‘Clearly you had no idea about the relationship between your wife and Chandler.’ said Cunningham, also a touch bemused himself.
‘No.’ answered Hartley quietly, as he appeared to be deep in thought, as well as shock.
‘Well, not really.’ he continued. ‘When I spoke with Chandler on the phone, he did mention that he knew about Nicole’s indiscretions. I confronted her, but she claimed that she didn’t know him. I know she’s rather, sorry, extremely promiscuous. I’ve caught her more that once, with her legs wrapped round another blokes pelvis, whilst he was enjoying himself. But that was the reason I married her; she was a trophy wife, nothing more, nothing less. She was good for business.’ Hartley paused.
‘What I can’t get my head round is, why, during the robbery, Chandler got murdered.’ he paused for another second, and then continued, ‘Yes he was going to buy it. And obviously with him out of the way, the thieves would have one less problem to deal with. But where does Nicole fit into the equation.’
‘Think about it.’ Cunningham was starting to think out loud, trying to get an angle on the situation.
‘If she was deliberately shagging Chandler knowing that it was being recorded. Could she not have been planning to blackmail him with a copy?’
‘I suppose that’s a possibility.’ Hartley replied.
‘But what I still don’t understand is, why kidnap her.’ uttered Cunningham under his breath, ‘why not just kill her, the same way they got rid of Chandler. If Nicole’s not involved, she just becomes excess baggage.’
‘That’s stupid,’ sniggered Hartley, ‘if she was involved, she would have known that Chandler was going to get killed, so why bother letting him fuck her in front of the camera. Don’t forget it was Nicole who set the camera to record the show. She would have known that blackmail wasn’t going to be an option. It’s a bit difficult trying to get money out of a dead man.’