Chapter 23
Monday, April 26th. 3:11 pm.
Alf had been trying to get through to Chan Lee for at least an hour without any success, so decided to leave it for a while. With the man having a number of business interests he was more than likely preoccupied with those.
Having made his way over to the kitchenette, the flat didn’t run to anything like a decent size kitchen. It could only accommodate a row of three wall cupboards and three base units underneath, a small two ring cooker and a fridge. He’d put the kettle on to make a coffee but soon discovered that there was no milk. Not being a fan of black coffee Alf slipped his coat on and headed for the corner shop.
It was a pleasant enough afternoon. A few light clouds, with the occasional glimpses of sunlight slicing in-between the gaps.
As he sauntered along the High Street clearly not in a particular rush, he almost felt like he was enjoying the walk.
That was soon to change.
Suddenly he stopped in his tracks.
He was stood directly in front of the main Post Office, and as he looked at the large display window, which as usual was filled with private adverts. Electrician for hire. Need a gardener, no job too small. 9 foot foldaway table tennis table for sale, £50, buyer collects. That kind of thing. But the only thing he could focus on was a photograph of himself.
His mug shot. As clear and identifiable as the day the picture was taken.
It even displayed his prison number emboldened underneath his face.
Alf quickly lifted up the collar on his coat. Pulling it over his chin, covering his mouth as much as it would stretch. He started to head back to the flat as fast as he could. Walking quickly but not running, he didn’t want to attract any attention.
Every step forward felt like he’d took a step backwards.
He glanced up a couple of times, and got an uncanny feeling that every person he saw, knew that he was this wanted man who’s photo was up on display.
Alf had to make himself scarce.
When he arrived back to relative safety, he was puffing and panting. More out of fear than exhaustion.
‘What the hell do I do now?’ he thought. ‘I daren’t go out without some sort of disguise. If I’m spotted I’ll be banged up faster than hot shit flies of a shovel.’
If his details were up in the Post Office for all of Potters Bar to see, then they would probably be in every city, town and village in the country. And as his was the only mug shot on view, Alf was more than likely on England’s most wanted list.
‘Nicole.’ he said out loud.
‘I need to get hold of Nicole. And quickly.’
Even before he took his coat off, Alf pulled his phone out of his pocket and rang Nicole’s number.
He let it ring more than a dozen times before hanging up.
‘Where the fuck is she?’ he thought, ‘She should have answered as soon as her ‘do you think I’m sexy’ sounded, especially with the situation we’re all in, and everything that’s going on.’
He walked over towards the window, and whilst keeping his head partially shaded by the curtain, Alf looked out over the street below.
Nothing out of the ordinary.
People going about their daily business, unconcerned about what anybody else was up to.
Nobody looking curiously up in the direction of his flat.
No Police cars hanging around as though the property was under surveillance.
Yet still he didn’t feel safe.
He tried Nicole again.
Still no answer.
He was getting agitated.
Alf slipped of his coat and headed for the armchair.
‘I need to think.’
Slumping down in the chair, he closed his eyes and started to ponder about what his best options would be.
With everything that was going on, Alf’s mind seemed to be a blank. Unable to focus, he started to drop off.
Suddenly he heard a bang, and jumped up thinking that someone was at the door of his flat. Quickly he made his way down the stairs, panicking with every step, but before opening the door Alf put his ear to it to see if he could hear if there was somebody outside. He wasn’t taking any chances. It could be the Police.
No noise was apparent, so carefully he opened it a couple of inches.
There were no signs of any activity so he eased it open further.
After looking all round, he was satisfied that no one was around so headed back upstairs.
Carefully, making sure he couldn’t be seen, he glanced out of the window, only to see a car with its bonnet up and a man seemingly fiddling around in the engine compartment. He realised that the noise he’d heard was probably that car back firing.
After returning to his armchair, he perceived that it was imperative that he had to get out of there.
The landlady knew his name. And if she had seen that notice in the Post Office or the Police came knocking, she’d most definitely recognise him and inform them. There was no way she would allow a wanted man to live over her shop and on her property.
Even though he didn’t have anywhere to go, he thought that it would be safer moving around the streets than staying put.
Fortunately there wasn’t a great deal of packing to do. Everything he had in the flat would fit into his large rucksack. Ensuring that the Appleford Rock was in the middle of his clothes, well wrapped up, he packed everything in.
Before leaving the flat, Alf gave Nicole another try.
Still no answer.
But at this moment in time, retaining his freedom was more important than contacting her. After all, he had the diamond. So she would want him, more than he needed her.
With his jacket collar pulled up as high as it would go, and wearing a bob cap to cover as much of his head as possible, without looking stupid, he set off. Being careful not to be spotted by his landlady, who might still be working in the shop and could possibly looking out of the window.
Monday, April 26th. 6:37 pm.
Time was ticking on.
Alf’s sense of direction left a bit, sorry, a lot to be desired, and he still had no idea as to where he could spend the night.
After leaving the flat, London had seemed like the best place to hide. He could move around unnoticed in the bustling crowds. Plus, there were so many homeless people in the capital; he could blend in quite easily.
He started to head in the direction he thought would lead him to his chosen destination.
Alf’s stomach started to ache; he hadn’t eaten since lunch time, and had been walking for miles.
As he was glancing round, looking for any signs which would let him know the name of the town centre he was walking through, Alf spotted a large Tesco. He also noticed a solicitor’s office on the opposite side of the roundabout, which had the name ‘Chalenor and Chalenor’s Solicitors’, on a plaque at the side of the door. With ‘Borehamwood Branch’, noted underneath.
The only reason he needed this information was so that he could inform Nicole of his whereabouts, if and when she made contact.
Even though there were reservations about him trying to get something to eat from the supermarket, the last thing he wanted was to get noticed. But his stomach was rather insistent.
Alf had to chance it.
Still making himself as inconspicuous as possible, he made his way into the entrance of the store.
Directly in front of him stood a sandwich stand. His stomach ached at the sight of the selection. The other half of the cabinet was full of bottles and cans of juice.
He grabbed a pack consisting of two ham & cheese, and a can of Tango.
Fortunately, as he was paying for his goods, the cashier was more interested in speaking to a colleague, about when her next break was, than to be bothered about this somewhat indiscriminate customer.
As Alf was making his way out, he spotted his mug shot again. It was displayed on the Post Office window which was located immediately inside the front doors of the supermarket.
He glanced round, and noticed a young girl. Couldn’t have been more than ten years old. Looking at the photograph and then staring at him. She appeared to adding two and two up and getting the right answer.
He had to get out of there. And quickly, before she told her mum who was busy chatting to an assistant behind the counter.
He started to walk as fast as he could. No sooner was he outside than he clocked a large van about twenty yards away, at the back of the car park, but looked like it was surrounded by quite a few other vehicles.
Alf made a bee line for it.
On managing to get himself tucked up behind it, he carefully poked his head round the side of the van, and saw the little girl and her mum come walking quickly out of the store and motioning with their hands.
They were clearly scouring the car park, trying to see where Alf had disappeared to. But luckily they hadn’t got out of the shop quick enough to see him slip in behind the van.
‘Can I help you?’
He turned round. He was suddenly confronted by a young man, probably in his early twenty’s. Well built and looked like he could have been a regular visitor to the local gym.
‘You’re not trying to break into my van are you?’ he gave a sarcastic laugh, knowing that he would be well capable of sorting this short guy out. ‘Not advisable.’
‘No, err, no,’ stuttered Alf, ‘I was trying to avoid someone.’
‘Well I think you’d better start avoiding them somewhere else.’ the man growled.
Alf backed away, turned and started to walk away as quickly as he could. Glancing round, trying to keep the cover of the van between his pursuers and himself.
At the end of the car park there was a row of privet hedges standing about six feet tall. He managed to get behind them, and tried to look round to see if the young girl and her mum were still searching for him.
‘Thank fuck for that.’ he thought when he couldn’t see any sign of them. ‘That was too bloody close for comfort.’
His mobile sounded. He glanced at the caller display.
Nicole.
‘Where the hell have you been?’ he remarked abruptly, ‘Do you realise the shit I’m in. The cops are onto me.’
‘I know,’ replied Nicole, ‘I couldn’t contact you any earlier, or I’d have been in the wires as well, and we can’t afford for both of us to be on the news bulletins.’
‘Shit, am I on the television as well.’
‘Yes, so just keep out of sight.’ she began to whisper.
‘Where are you?’
‘Borehamwood. Do you know where it is?’
‘Of course.’ came the reply. ‘Where abouts?’
‘At the moment I’m just outside the Tesco car park, but I can’t stay here for long. Some little girl saw both me and my mug shot, and told her mum. So I’m expecting the place to be swarming with cops any minute.’
‘Right,’ remarked Nicole, ‘just make yourself scarce. I’ll make my excuses to Hartley, and come and get you.’
‘How long will it take to get here?’
‘Depends on how quick I can get away from here. But I’ll be there as quick as I can. I’ll ring when I’m getting close.’
They hung up.
Alf cautiously turned away from the privet hedge, looking in the direction of the solicitors he’s spotted earlier. And after checking that the way across the road was cop-less, managed to scurry over, and hide behind the row of shops. Hoping to be able to maintain his freedom and anonymity, long enough for Nicole to get to him.