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‘But we won’t?’

‘We won’t,’ says Elizabeth.

‘Then how do we get in?’ Joyce asks.

Elizabeth scans the upper floors of the building. Then takes out her phone.

11

Tia has drawn up a plan of the warehouse complex in the back of what Connie realizes is a school exercise book. She is explaining the layout.

‘So the lorry goes through these gates; there are two security posts, ten yards apart. Once he’s through there, he drives thirty yards or so, then goes down this ramp to a sort of concrete apron and on to the loading-bay doors. Ninety seconds or so from start to finish.’

Connie is distracted. A man in a suit in his mid-twenties has sat down in the booth next to them and is watching a video on his phone. The whole café can hear it, but he seems oblivious. Connie holds up her finger to stop Tia for a moment. She turns to the man.

‘Could you use headphones, do you think?’

The man looks at her uncomprehendingly. ‘Uh?’

‘Headphones,’ repeats Connie, then points to her ears in case he needs further help. ‘It’s just everyone else can hear what you’re watching.’

‘Why don’t you mind your business?’ says the young man. ‘Or I’ll mind it for you.’

‘You don’t think it’s rude?’ Connie asks. She’s genuinely interested. The man is watching a video of a man laughing at a video of another man playing a video game.

‘I’m on lunch,’ says the young man, as if that’s an end to the matter.

Connie looks at him for a second, then nods. ‘Okay, I have a bit of business to do, so I’ll deal with you in a minute. If you want to keep listening without your headphones, go right ahead.’

‘I will,’ says the young man.

Connie turns back to Tia. One thing at a time. ‘Sorry, Tia, underground car park.’

‘Security grille will be open. Driver plus two security staff unload the watches – four or five minutes – the boxes are put on pallets and a fork lift takes them inside to a service corridor – that’s two minutes tops – and at the end of that service corridor there’s the vault.’

Connie follows Tia’s progress on the drawing. She’s doing well. The man on the video is now shrieking with laughter.

‘Once it’s in the vault,’ says Tia, ‘we can’t touch it.’

‘But it takes the same journey when it leaves the vault again?’ says Connie. ‘When the watches go out to the shops?’

‘In smaller batches though,’ says Tia. ‘If you want the maximum return, it’s in the nine minutes between the lorry arriving at the security gates and the boxes reaching the vault.’

The video at the next table is still breaking Connie’s concentration, but she takes her role as a mentor very seriously, and Tia needs her full attention. Ibrahim will be here for her own session in a few minutes. He’s already late, some sort of emergency, a sick friend.

‘So what are we doing?’ she asks. ‘Bribing the guards?’

Tia turns to another page in her school exercise book. There is a list of numbers.

‘What am I looking at?’ Connie asks.

‘This is what everyone at the complex gets paid,’ says Tia. ‘I’ve got all of them. The managing director – she gets the most, fair enough; the guards inside the vault – they’re on nice money; the driver gets nothing; the guards at the gate are on minimum wage.’

‘Got to pay guards well,’ says Connie. ‘Otherwise –’

‘Then, right down the bottom of the list, there’s the fork-lift driver, and the cleaners who look after the car park and the service corridor. Not even minimum wage once the agencies have taken their cut. Works out at eight fifty an hour.’

‘How did you get these salaries?’