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24
He was unaware that a speed camera had caught him as he sped along the A552. Anthony was worried about the repercussions of posting the letter. It was lying on the passenger seat without an address, or a stamp. He didn’t know what to write. ‘Widnes police force’ seemed too vague, and with the post always seemingly unstable, he found it increasingly hard to trust them, so wondered whether it might be better if he simply handed it in to a police station outside of Widnes to divert Tom’s attention if caught.
He didn’t realise it would be quite so difficult, fraught as it was, with obstacles ready to trip him up and have Tom’s angry face stare down at him. ‘Grass’ he would shout: ‘Call yourself a mate?’. The Wirral seemed as good a place as anywhere to post it from. Tom should be none the wiser.
Anthony hoped that the police station had a letter-box outside. Perhaps it would be better to be unmarked, he thought. What if it goes unopened, though? It would not attract much attention and could be mistaken for a circular, an advert for bank loans which are sometimes posted in blank envelopes, or they may simply say: ‘To the occupier’. It could perhaps head straight for the waste.
Some sort of attention catcher was required, he thought. He had guessed he might need to do that, so had brought a black marker, which he had decided to discard, should it be used. His fingerprints would be deeply impressed on it, so disposing of it seemed the only option.
He had wondered at one point, whether or not his fingerprints could be left on the letter, and on the envelope, so handled them on the edges, even after realising that the police records did not have his fingerprints. He was unfamiliar with this area, so turned off the road and drove into Prenton.
After ten minutes of fruitless petrol burning, he eventually found a sign that pointed the way to a police station, and drove past it, not wanting to appear conspicuous by parking outside. He didn’t know how large a range the CCTV camera outside had, or indeed, if there was one there, but it could have been hidden, and he took no chances, so drove around a corner, and parked further up, around fifty metres away, outside the wall to an expansive cemetery.
He switched off the engine, and looked down at the envelope. It’s not going to post itself, he thought, and picked it up. His mobile phone then rang, and he looked at the small screen. It was Tom. His fear elevated, and he had the sudden notion that he was ringing him to try and stop him posting the letter. His hand reached slowly forward and he picked it up, then answered.
“Tom,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. “Hi”.
“Ant, I’ve been thinking, and I’ve come to a decision. You know the money that Ryvak think they’re losing? well now I’m going to start siphoning it away”.
“What? I thought the bank money was more than enough.” The doubts he had had about posting it had now completely vanished.
“Yes, it is. I’m not keeping it for myself. There are many animal organisations that exist to prevent cruelty such as this, and well, virtually everything else, every injustice caused to them.
I’m going to distribute Ryvak’s funds into these organisation’s accounts, and they’ll never know where the money will be coming from. I just thought you should know. I’ll catch up with you later. See ya”. Anthony heard a click, then nothing. He put the mobile back, then put the envelope back on the passenger seat. His doubts came flooding back.
Now it came down to two choices, he thought. That money is going to be used for good causes, and yet, the animals used in the experiments were going to be used for good causes. It was a case of humans or animals. Medical advancement, or animal rights. He wondered if Tom was still trying to close down Ryvak, or keep its funds at an even level so that it distributed the money over as long a period of time as possible. There would be no point in having Ryvak close.
He thought about calling him back, but then guessed that it may be suspicious if he asked probing questions about Ryvak’s finances. Ask him subtly, he thought. Also, perhaps, if Ryvak was not to close, then the animals would be brought in, and experiments would probably go ahead as planned, so Tom was probably helping out both causes. Whereas I would be only helping out one, if I post this, he thought, looking at the envelope. He pulled away from the kerb, and headed back towards the Mersey tunnel.