The Grey Man - By Andy McNab Page 0,15

with him in two days.

Out of the window, Kevin could see the morning traffic battling into work. It felt good not to be a commuter today – or, at least, not for a while. Right now he was a real bank robber. He felt a rush of excitement. Sitting around him, office workers were reading their papers and listening to their ipods, but he wasn't. He was on his way to buy stuff to make a key just like Symington's.

He reached the stop near B&Q and ran across the car park. Even at that time of the morning it was busy with builders loading up for the day. A quick whiz round the aisles and he'd be done.

Kevin was more than fifteen minutes late for work. He had had to fill the compact with the modelling clay he'd just bought before he got the bus. Then the traffic was bad on the way into the city. Out of breath, he raced into the bank. He had run all the way from the bus stop. His briefcase was full of the stuff he had bought from B&Q and he hid it all in his desk drawers. As he was putting away the clay-filled compact, Symington burst in. This is a place of work, Dodds! You can't just come and go as you please.'

Kevin was standing behind his desk. The drawer was open, crammed with B&Q bags. 'I'm sorry, Mr Symington. The traffic was—'

Symington turned and walked out. 'You have work to do. Get on with it.'

Kevin closed the drawer and left his office to help Gary prepare the counter for the public.

Gary nodded towards Symington's office. 'I see he's in a good mood again.'

'Yeah, nothing changes.' Kevin tried to sound casual, because for him of course, everything had changed.

Symington was sitting at his desk with the Daily Telegraph spread out before him. He didn't look up as Kevin walked behind him to get to the cupboard with the video recorders. He replaced the three tapes and took a deep breath. Then he turned to make his first attempt at getting his hands on his boss's safe key. His mouth was dry.

'If you're busy, Mr Symington, I can open the safe for you.'

Symington closed the paper to reveal a bunch of keys beneath it. The safe key was on the keyring, just inches away from him. Kevin needed it for just a few seconds.

'What did you say?'

'I'll open the safe for you. I'm going back to my office now.'

Symington waved him away with one hand and the other slipped the keys into his desk drawer. 'I'll be along in a minute. You've got your own work to do.'

Kevin worked through the lunch-hour and Gary brought him a sandwich. All morning he'd been waiting for a chance to get to Symington's key. Symington had gone for lunch but must have taken his keys with him. Kevin had checked the man's office after he had left.

Now it was early afternoon. He started to panic. What if he never got them? If he did, what if he was caught making the copy? He was starting to have second thoughts about the whole idea. Planning the job was one thing, but doing it was something else.

Symington came back from lunch and headed for his office. Ten minutes later, Kevin saw him come out and go downstairs to the toilets. Now was his chance. He grabbed the compact from his drawer and walked quickly, but not too quickly, into Symington's office.

The keys were where he'd thought they would be. He took them out of the drawer and, with trembling hands, opened the compact. He pressed the safe key into the clay, exactly in the centre. He squeezed the two halves of the compact together, slowly but firmly, just as the website had said.

'Gary! Your tie is loose.' Symington's voice was getting louder. He was heading for his office. Kevin's hands shook harder. The compact and the keys clattered on to the carpet. Shit. Shit. SHIT.

'Yes, a lovely day, Mrs Wright.' The office door burst open. 'What are you doing in here?'

Kevin stood by the desk and kicked the compact and keys under it. 'I – I – well, I just wanted to say I was sorry for being late this morning. It won't happen again.'

'Well, make sure of it. Now leave me to get on with my work. There's a lot to do.'

Kevin went to the door.

'Dodds, get me a coffee, would you?'

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

KEVIN WENT TO MAKE