Striker Boy Kicks Out (22 page)

Gregor scowled but said nothing. The man climbed off the bus, his stick tapping out its rhythm as he headed along the pavement.

It was only after the bus had pulled away from its seventh stop that Gregor checked his jacket pocket and discovered to his horror that the cash-stuffed envelope had gone.

As Gregor frantically searched his jacket pockets and his bus sped on, Ray Swinton sat sipping a coffee at the bus station's large cafe. He looked up when he heard the tapping of a white stick and spotted the blind man weaving his way through the crowds.

The man stopped when he was right next to Swinton.

“How did it go?” asked Swinton.

“Piece of cake,” replied the man, pulling off his sunglasses and panama hat to reveal Nat.

After Swinton had told him about the blackmail demand and had outlined Nat's possible role in the ‘handover', he had initially said no. Dressing up as a blind man and stealing the money back from an Eastern European crook wasn't really his scene – it was more for the characters who appeared in the thrillers he liked to read. But Swinton had pointed out the necessity of keeping this ‘matter' small and, as Nat's name featured in the notebooks, it was in his interests to help get them back. Swinton had shown him how to stumble, barge and reach inside someone's jacket to pilfer items. He said he'd
picked it up when he did his RAF training, but Nat wasn't sure he believed him. However, this hadn't stopped him finally agreeing to the plan and, unseen by anyone else, Nat had practised a lot. To his relief, he'd got it right when it mattered.

“But don't you think he'll come after us with his mates?” asked Nat nervously. Swinton left some money for his coffee and they headed out of the cafe and back in the direction of the hotels.

“Very unlikely,” replied Swinton. “If we see him again and alert the police he'll be in a lot of bother. The police might even be looking for him already. You can bet that this wasn't the first scam he's tried to pull off. I'd love to see his face when he realises the money's gone!”

Swinton laughed heartily.

“Do you think he showed them to anyone else?” asked Nat.

“No,” replied Swinton. “He's a chancer – he was probably just calling my bluff that he would have shown them at all. And anyway, I told you – my handwriting's pretty illegible. I've got my notebooks back, you got the cash back for me, all we need to do now is get Hatton Rangers to beat Talorca tomorrow night and the world will be perfect! I still can't believe the team made it to a final. If you'd told me a few years back that Rangers would be in this position, I'd have laughed you out of the room.”

They walked for the next twenty minutes until they reached an intersection.

“My hotel's that way,” said Swinton. “I'll see you at the game tomorrow. Are you going to tell me the line-up?”

“You must be joking,” replied Nat. “The gaffer would kill me. He'll tell you in his own good time.”

“Suit yourself,” said Swinton. “I'll see you tomorrow. I'm going to do some post-match interviews with the lads after the final. Will you be getting a game?”

“Don't try and trick me!” said Nat with a wry smile.

“Well, if I don't see you before the game, viva Hatton Rangers!” laughed Swinton.

“Yeah, something like that,” said Nat.

“You did brilliantly with that criminal,” said Swinton. “I owe you one.”

They shook hands and parted.

It was late Friday night. Carlos and Rudy were dog-tired but they couldn't stop – not yet.

“It will all be worth it,” said Carlos, looking up from the table where he was working, a laptop open and several empty mugs scattered round.

“I know,” replied Rudy.

Earlier, Rudy had seen the bald man carrying some office furniture into the unit he'd rented, along the corridor. The man hadn't seen him.

Half an hour later, they were on the verge of packing up when the buzzer to their unit went. They looked at each other. They then looked at the table. It was completely covered.

“What shall we do?” mouthed Rudy.

“We have to answer it,” whispered Carlos. “It could be the bald man – he might just want to say hello.”

“It's past midnight,” said Rudy grimly. “A weird time for introductions, don't you think?”

“But our lights are on,” pointed out Carlos. “It would be more suspicious not to answer it.”

The buzzer went again.

“You get it,” said Carlos.

A few seconds later, Rudy opened the door a fraction and looked out. He was staggered to see two police officers standing there, ID cards in hand.

“I'm Officer Pedro,” said the man standing in front, “and this is Officer Carez.”

“How can I help you?” asked Rudy, aware of the slight wobble in his voice which betrayed his anxiety.

“Could we come in for a moment?” asked Pedro.

Rudy heard Carlos frantically clearing the table behind him. Panic gripped his throat. What if the officers saw anything? What if they recognised Carlos as the prison escaper?

“Can I ask what this is about?” Rudy said.

“We'd prefer to come inside,” said Carez.

Rudy knew that to say no was out of the question. “Sure,” he said, “please come in.”

He turned round, half-expecting Carlos to be throwing things out of the window, but to his immense relief, the table was cleared and Carlos was sitting on a chair, wearing a black beanie hat quite low over his face and flicking through the day's paper.

Rudy went to sit next to Carlos, and indicated for the policemen to join them, but the officers remained standing. Rudy was shaking and just hoped this wasn't visible to Pedro and Carez.

“We've received a report of unusual activity in this block,” said Pedro.

Rudy felt as if the air had just been squeezed out of his body. Carlos cleared his throat.

“What sort of activity?” enquired Carlos, making his voice deeper than usual.

“Illegal activity,” replied Pedro.

Rudy gulped. They were on to them. It was all over. Carlos would be going back to prison and Rudy would be joining him.

“It's connected to the other unit on this floor that's just been rented out,” explained Carez.

Rudy almost cried out with delight.

“We wanted to know if you'd seen anything suspicious.”

“Suspicious in what way?” asked Rudy.

“I'm afraid we can't divulge that,” replied Carez.

“I haven't seen anything,” said Carlos, turning to Rudy. “Have you?”

“Nothing,” agreed Rudy, “I've only seen the other tenant once.”

“Fine,” nodded Carez. “We're just doing some routine enquiries. If you do see anything, can you give us a call?”

He handed his card to Carlos.

“Of course, officer,” replied Carlos, standing up and taking the card. He strolled back to the door with them.

“Well, thank you,” said Carez, “and sorry for interrupting your evening.”

“No problem at all,” smiled Carlos.

“Just for our information, what are you two using this unit for?” asked Pedro, looking round at the empty space.
“Are you making something?”

“We're IT consultants,” replied Carlos. “We're just in the process of getting set up.”

“Really?” said Pedro looking at the empty table. “I'm sure the landlord said you wanted to start work immediately.”

“We just finished one job, and we're waiting for the next,” replied Carlos, trying to sound casual.

The officers took another look round the room.

“OK,” nodded Carez, “don't forget to call us if you see anything.”

“Sure,” smiled Carlos. The officers walked out and Carlos shut the door. He motioned for Rudy not to say anything. They waited a full ten minutes before either of them dared to speak.

“Close call,” whispered Rudy.

“But nothing more,” Carlos reassured him. “They've gone and that's it. Because we said we've seen nothing, they won't bother us again.”

“But they'll be back for the bald guy,” insisted Rudy.

“That's his problem. Now let's get some sleep. We've still got loads to do tomorrow, OK?”

Rudy nodded, but he was panicked by the police visit. It would be crushing if anything interfered with their plan. But then he reminded himself how near they were to the final stretch. If they could just hold on for a while, it would all come together.

In the morning, Inés gave Nat a lift to Talorca's La Plaza Stadium. He'd slept fitfully, with the blackmail-envelope snatch and the Talorca match mixing and frothing in his brain. Today wasn't just massive for him, it was huge for the club. There weren't many teams without silverware and Nat would do anything to make sure Hatton Rangers didn't leave without some. Plus, it would be amazing going into the new season on the back of winning this tournament, especially as five top European teams had competed alongside Hatton Rangers.

The stadium was absolutely incredible – massive and majestic. With a capacity of 60,000, it was only three years old, and the entire structure gleamed in the late morning sunshine. Rangers's home – the Ivy Stadium – was a great structure, but it was old and in need of fundamental repairs. Rangers badly needed to generate more income than at present, if they were to have a chance of even a basic refurbishment. As well as at the Ivy, Nat had played at Anfield, but La Plaza was on another level. It reeked of quality.

The team bus was just pulling away after dropping off its players when Inés's Fiat pulled up. Nat thanked her, jumped out, and caught up with the others. Emi and Kelvin had also just arrived. They all walked through the shimmering glass doors, and were led up an escalator, and along a thickly-carpeted corridor.

“Impressive!” noted Emi, as they took in their new surroundings. The away changing room itself was even better. Tasteful ceiling lights illuminated all of the chrome and glass. The place was spotless and when some of the players went to check out the showers they – particularly Adilson – were taken by their sleek design and the ample bottles of expensive shower gel, shampoo and moisturiser.

“Excuse me if I disappear in there and don't emerge until after the match,” said Adilson, miming putting a comb through his hair.

Nat, Emi and Kelvin laughed.