Friday Feeling (2/8) By Nick Quantrill

(1/8), (2/8), (3/8), (4/8), (5/8), (6/8), (7/8), (8/8).

Maynard made himself comfortable in what passed for the manager's office, sipping from a piping hot cup of tea. Placing it down where he could find the space, he reached for his notebook. 'Right. We'll start at the beginning if that's ok with you, Mr Young?' Young was a rotund man who looked to be well into his sixties. His skin was greasy and his lank, straggly grey hair looked like it would benefit from a wash. Maybe being cooped up inside all day, every day had taken its toll on his appearance, but to Maynard he didn't look like a man with a lot of pride left.

Young eyed him suspiciously. 'That's fine. You took your time getting here, son.' Maynard hated it when people called him 'son'. Looking several years younger than his actual age often had its drawbacks. 'I'm sorry about that. I was stuck in traffic. We're a little short of bodies today.' 'I suppose you're talking about what happened in Grimsby this morning?' Maynard nodded. 'At the moment, we've got a lot of men over there.' 'Fair enough, son.' 'So if you can tell me, in your own words, what happened?'

'There's not much to tell really. The bloke burst in about 2.30, waved his gun at me, told me to empty the till and the safe into a holdall, and then he left.' 'What did he look like?' 'Nothing special. Just regular, you know what I mean? About 5' 10", medium build, dark clothing and he had a crash-helmet on.' 'I see.' Maynard looked up at the CCTV unit. 'Did you get it on tape?' 'I did, though it's not much use. It's hardly state-of-the-art. It's mainly just for show. Scare off a few shoplifters and the like.

You can have a look for yourself, but as you'll see, he keeps his back to the camera.'

'Any witnesses?' 'No one. Nobody was in the shop at the time. I suppose they maybe waited for it to be empty.' 'What do you mean, they?' 'I assume he had a driver waiting outside. That's what they do on the telly, son.' Maynard put his pen and notebook away. 'Ok. So what you're telling me is that the CCTV footage is unlikely to help and that there are no witnesses. It looks like they didn't leave any forensic evidence behind either, and all you can tell me is that the man looked to be of average build and height?' 'I'm afraid so, son.'

Maynard got wearily to his feet and walked around the small office to look out of the window. The window overlooked the backyard of the shop, the area where deliveries would be made. Large metal carriages used to transport the goods into the shop littered the congested yard along with piles of compressed cardboard boxes. 'I've got to say, Mr Young. You don't appear to be very traumatised by this.' 'No point in that, is there son? It's over with now, isn't it? I've had years of people causing me trouble in the shop; it's only one step further. I can't make this kind of shop pay anymore. I close up and retire next month. Besides, the insurance company will pay up for the lost takings.'

Maynard turned to face him. 'How much will that be, then?' 'The thing is, you see, I hadn't banked the takings all week. It'll be about £4,000.'

Continued... Next Page (3/8)

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