an instant that this was not going to go well. Worse was to follow. As I glanced over I couldn’t believe what I was witnessing. Graham was coshing the guy over the head with the shaft of the pick he was armed with and there was blood spurting from the man’s head.
‘For fuck’s sake get him into the back and leave him alone,’ I shouted, but I was wasting my time. Graham had completelylost his cool and was now going berserk and had started to smash open the glass display cases. This was bad and the whole plan was now completely out of the window. I grabbed up a bank bag containing the day’s takings and was about to go through the safe when Graham pushed past me and was about to start coshing the jeweller’s wife who had been securing the trays of diamonds rings in the safe.
I screamed, ‘What the fuck are you doing? Leave her and get out!’ I had to physically drag him away and out of the shop and I wasn’t a happy man. If I’d had a gun I truly think I would have shot him at the moment. I bundled him into the car and he was still screaming like a fucking lunatic. Getting behind the wheel I quickly drove away from the scene, all the while shouting at Graham. ‘You fucking maniac! You completely noised it up and I’m going to fucking do you!’
He kept saying over and over, ‘But, Jim, the geezer was trying to have a pop at me. I had to sort him out.’
I said, ‘Listen, you slag – once we are safe I am getting out of this motor and you can fuck off. I never want to see you again, so just disappear, OK?’
‘What about the money?’ he asked.
‘Yes, you can have a share, but you’ll be lucky if you clear a monkey – there is less than a grand in this bag. You made a right mug of it. We should have cleared 25 grand our way and there was no fucking need for that level of violence. You’ve put it right on top.’
We dumped the car and separated but as I walked away I had a bad feeling, not just about the way Graham had behaved but a sense of foreboding. I somehow knew that I hadn’t heard the last of either Graham or this day’s work. To say it had been a bad day at the office was an understatement – there had been no need to cosh the guy and I felt bad aboutthat. I am not trying to paint myself lily white, because I would not hesitate to use violence when it was required, but violence just for the sake of it has always repulsed me. An incident like this was very unprofessional and I was sickened by the whole ordeal.
Chapter Seventeen
I had decided that me and Alison would head for Glasgow but a couple of days after the jewellery job we were sitting in our hotel room when there was a knock at the door. It was the hotel manager. ‘There are some gentlemen downstairs who would like to have a word with you, Mr Stewart.’ Stewart was the name I had used when booking in.
‘OK, tell them I will be right down. I’ll just put my shoes on.’ I knew straight away something wasn’t right. The manager had appeared very nervous and had avoided my eyes. I said to Alison, ‘Quick, throw our things into a bag and get your coat on. We may have to get out of here – I think the cops are downstairs.’ I left the room and crept quietly down the staircase. I stopped at the landing just above the reception area and peeked around the corner into the hotel foyer below. Standing there with their backs to me were three plain-clothed policemen. I had had too many dealings with the law to be in any doubt as to who they were.
I quietly raced back up the stairs. Once I was back in ourroom I grabbed my jacket, checked that I had all the money we possessed and said, ‘Right, Alison, let’s go. It’s the cops downstairs and we only have a minute so just follow me.’
I picked up the holdall with our few things and closed and locked the door. We entered a bathroom and I locked the door. I opened the window and looked down into the courtyard of the hotel 60 feet below us. I noticed there was a drainpipe about
‘For fuck’s sake get him into the back and leave him alone,’ I shouted, but I was wasting my time. Graham had completelylost his cool and was now going berserk and had started to smash open the glass display cases. This was bad and the whole plan was now completely out of the window. I grabbed up a bank bag containing the day’s takings and was about to go through the safe when Graham pushed past me and was about to start coshing the jeweller’s wife who had been securing the trays of diamonds rings in the safe.
I screamed, ‘What the fuck are you doing? Leave her and get out!’ I had to physically drag him away and out of the shop and I wasn’t a happy man. If I’d had a gun I truly think I would have shot him at the moment. I bundled him into the car and he was still screaming like a fucking lunatic. Getting behind the wheel I quickly drove away from the scene, all the while shouting at Graham. ‘You fucking maniac! You completely noised it up and I’m going to fucking do you!’
He kept saying over and over, ‘But, Jim, the geezer was trying to have a pop at me. I had to sort him out.’
I said, ‘Listen, you slag – once we are safe I am getting out of this motor and you can fuck off. I never want to see you again, so just disappear, OK?’
‘What about the money?’ he asked.
‘Yes, you can have a share, but you’ll be lucky if you clear a monkey – there is less than a grand in this bag. You made a right mug of it. We should have cleared 25 grand our way and there was no fucking need for that level of violence. You’ve put it right on top.’
We dumped the car and separated but as I walked away I had a bad feeling, not just about the way Graham had behaved but a sense of foreboding. I somehow knew that I hadn’t heard the last of either Graham or this day’s work. To say it had been a bad day at the office was an understatement – there had been no need to cosh the guy and I felt bad aboutthat. I am not trying to paint myself lily white, because I would not hesitate to use violence when it was required, but violence just for the sake of it has always repulsed me. An incident like this was very unprofessional and I was sickened by the whole ordeal.
Chapter Seventeen
I had decided that me and Alison would head for Glasgow but a couple of days after the jewellery job we were sitting in our hotel room when there was a knock at the door. It was the hotel manager. ‘There are some gentlemen downstairs who would like to have a word with you, Mr Stewart.’ Stewart was the name I had used when booking in.
‘OK, tell them I will be right down. I’ll just put my shoes on.’ I knew straight away something wasn’t right. The manager had appeared very nervous and had avoided my eyes. I said to Alison, ‘Quick, throw our things into a bag and get your coat on. We may have to get out of here – I think the cops are downstairs.’ I left the room and crept quietly down the staircase. I stopped at the landing just above the reception area and peeked around the corner into the hotel foyer below. Standing there with their backs to me were three plain-clothed policemen. I had had too many dealings with the law to be in any doubt as to who they were.
I quietly raced back up the stairs. Once I was back in ourroom I grabbed my jacket, checked that I had all the money we possessed and said, ‘Right, Alison, let’s go. It’s the cops downstairs and we only have a minute so just follow me.’
I picked up the holdall with our few things and closed and locked the door. We entered a bathroom and I locked the door. I opened the window and looked down into the courtyard of the hotel 60 feet below us. I noticed there was a drainpipe about
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