Francis cursed himself, gritting his teeth and swearing at the sky, small gods, and anyone who would listen. There was no one in ear shot, of course, he wasn’t that stupid, but now he truly felt like a man with a target on his back. He spent the night in the lockup he and Eugene had been using since they arrived in town. They’d found an empty place and broken in when they first arrived, using it to hide the van and all their equipment. It meant they had a very basic standard of living when they could be in a nice bed and breakfast, but the practice limited how many people they came into contact with and gave them somewhere secret from which to operate.
He wasn’t excited about getting started today. Truthfully, he was dreading what the day might bring, but with the promise of more money than he would ever earn by any other method, Francis closed the lockup door behind him, and set out to earn a million pounds.
Victor Harris hadn’t seen his face, that much he was sure of and for once letting Eugene do the talking had played to his advantage. The old man might have seen him, but he was just going to have to work with what he had. Best to get Victor first and he was fairly sure he knew where to find him.
As a wicked idea sparked into life, he allowed himself a small smile. Oh, yes. He could pull this off. He always knew he was the brains of the outfit, and now he got to prove it. Speed would be necessary; a vital factor, in fact, but if luck stayed with him, he would be out of Biggleswade by lunchtime with both men safely in his care. He needed to visit a hardware store for supplies and clothes. First things first though, he needed to steal a taxi.
Observation
Albert’s stomach had been rumbling since he left hospital. He could have eaten there but the option to escape with DS Craig proved too tempting. Plus, how good could hospital breakfast be? Albert considered that he had too few years left to waste days eating bad food.
Somehow, he’d ended up with an extra dog. When DS Craig left Hans with him, Albert almost protested; the dog wasn’t his responsibility, but before the words could form on his lips, he wondered if perhaps the little Dachshund might prove useful. Either way, he was back at the Clanger Café.
Being sensibly diversified, the Clanger café specialised in their namesake dish, but served other things, and that included breakfast.
‘Did they feed you?’ Albert asked Rex and Hans at the door to the café.
Both dogs looked up with excited faces. Albert knew he hadn’t given Rex dinner last night or breakfast this morning, and though he felt sure the animal services people would have ensured both dogs were given a nutritionally balanced meal at least once while they had them, he needed to be sure they were not going hungry.
The bell jingled above his head on the way in, making the staff behind the counter lift their heads in an automatic reaction they must repeat hundreds of times a day. Carrying Hans under his left arm – the dog became heavy after a while and had been swapped from arm to arm – Albert waved with his right. It would be wrong to say the staff knew him, but they would recognise his face from the showdown with April yesterday.
There were two women working the front counter, both looked up as he came in, but it was the one to his right behind the cash register who spoke. ‘Is that Hans?’ she asked, looking at the dog under his left arm.
Albert flipped his eyebrows. ‘Yes, I seem to be surrogate dog owner today. I take it you have heard from Victor,’ asked Albert, stepping up to the counter so they could talk without speaking rudely over the heads of the customers. Once there, he could read their name badges. The lady behind the cash register was Rita and the other lady’s name was Meredith.
His question brought a look of concern from both women. ‘Oh, yes,’ said the talkative one. ‘The police had questions for us last night. They tracked half of us to the pub on Grand Lane so we knew all about it not long after it happened.’
‘It’s just shocking,’ said her colleague. ‘Who would believe it? First Mr Clement and now Victor. Who’s going to be next?’
It was a good question, but to answer it, he would first have to work out why on Earth either man had been targeted, and that was his biggest challenge. Other customers were coming through the door after him, so he swiftly changed the subject to the one which he wanted to ask. ‘Is April here?’ he asked, a half humorous, half serious grimace on his face.
His question got a smirk from the two women working the counter and a baker bringing goods through from the kitchen.
‘No one’s seen or heard from her since yesterday,’ said the woman behind the cash register.
‘That’s not quite right,’ argued her female colleague. ‘Young Shannon heard from her all right.’
‘What do you mean?’ Albert wanted to know.
The woman behind the cash register, Rita, a lady in her forties with short curly hair held in a net and not one jot of makeup, sighed. ‘She called in sick today. Shannon that is, not April. The rumour is that April banned her from coming to work until the situation with her managing the place is resolved. She’s always been a bully, that April.’
‘Why would Shannon obey her?’ Albert wanted to know.
‘April is her
