The Pursuit of Emma - Dave Moyer (top business books of all time .txt) 📗

but this is going to be illegal and potentially dangerous. I can’t put you in that situation.’

She didn’t seem deterred by this. In fact she smiled patronisingly at me.

‘Tom, whether you like it or not, I am involved. If we were followed, they know me. Who is to say I am safer at home - alone - than with you? I want to come and like it or not, you're stuck with me now, OK?’ She did her best to sound convincing. I thought for a second and then relented.

‘Fine, just give me a second.’

I disappeared and ran up the stairs. I entered the flat and paced quickly into my room, to the bedside table. I pulled the top drawer open and looked in. The gun. I was shaking as I picked it up and tucked it into my trousers. I really didn’t want to take it but Sophie was right. I was now responsible for her as well as me and I would do whatever it took to protect her. I checked myself in the mirror to make sure you couldn’t see the outline of it through the suit. It was fine.

I jogged down the stairs and rejoined Sophie.

‘Ready?’ I asked, trying to hide my fear and the weapon.

‘Let’s go,’ she said, more convincingly.

*****

Even the building was intimidating. We had spent ages trying to park but eventually weaved our way to the front steps. We stopped for a second to go over the plan. It wasn’t a very good plan, but what about me makes you think it would be?

‘Good luck,’ said Sophie, squeezing my arm one last time.

‘You too.’

She ran up the stairs, turned around, winked at me and disappeared through the revolving doors. I was stunned at how confident she was becoming. In a strange way, all of this had done some good. At least Sophie was blossoming again and I loved seeing it.

Right. Show time.

I took my phone out and walked in through the doors looking as important as I could muster. The role I was playing was an ‘arrogant lawyer arsehole’. The thinking behind this was that in Raynmer and Stein, I would blend into the crowd perfect with all the other arrogant, lawyer arseholes.

‘No, no Julie I don’t care what he says, love. If he’s not got the paperwork signed, I don’t give a shit... No, you tell him... I couldn’t care less... get it done, sweet-cheeks...’ I shouted in my best ‘cockney arsehole’ accent. I was worried I had pitched it a bit strong but nobody batted an eyelid as I walked in. They must be used to that sort of language here.

I spotted Sophie at the reception desk. She had positioned herself right between the gate security and one of the receptionists, just like we had planned. God, I hoped this worked. I carried on walking and talking, looking for a suitable target. What if I couldn’t find anyone? This whole plan hinged on me finding someone to steal a pass off and until I had, Sophie would just have to stall. Maybe I should have gone in first. Well, next time...

After a minute, I found someone. A man in his mid-forties was walking through reception with an ID badge clipped to his jacket pocket. Perfect. I had seen enough films where people did this and it looked easy. Here goes.

I walked, still talking on my phone, straight into this man. I had hoped that the force would knock his badge off or in the mayhem I could grab it with my free hand. It didn’t work. Essentially what had happened was I assaulted and angered a middle-aged man. I maybe mistimed the pace somewhat and hit him with much more force than I had anticipated. Sadly his badge had not fallen free and my free hand ended up groping his chest, rather than stealing his badge. He turned in furious anger and bellowed, ‘Watch it dickhead,’ before storming off.

People had turned around in the commotion and I caught Sophie’s disappointed stare. She was struggling and really needed me to hurry up. I shot her and apologetic glance and moved on.

OK, regroup.

I had a second plan, which involved a bit of acting (which I am notoriously bad at) and I was not looking forward to trying it. Time was desperate. I scanned around and settled my gaze on an elderly man. He walked through the revolving doors and approached the reception. After signing his name into a guest book he was handed a visitor’s badge which would open the gate. As he walked away, I heard the receptionist say, ‘Have a great day Mr Fitzgerald.’ He was obviously a regular. I had everything I needed.

Timing was key for this. I had to wait until he was out of earshot from reception but not too close to the guards. I phoned Sophie’s number on my phone and saw her touch her leg. She could feel it vibrate which was our secret code. Looking back it had never occurred to me what would have happened if someone else had phoned her.

Sophie played her part perfectly. She stood up straight, swaying slightly. I could just hear her speak to the receptionist.

‘I’m sorry, I don’t feel very well.’

She clasped her hands on the desk and I could see the concern in the faces of the receptionists. As they asked her if she was alright, she collapsed. There was an eruption of movement as both receptionists and the guards on the gates rushed to her side. It was basic human nature. Deep down, we all care about the well-being of each other. And everyone wants to be a hero. This was my moment.

‘Mr Fitzgerald?’ I called, shouting after him. I repeated it and he turned to face me. He seemed a kindly old-man and had no hint of malice in his face. He was obviously not from London.

‘Mr Fitzgerald? Hi I’m Jason from reception,’ I said, noticing I was putting on a slightly camp tone. Why was that coming out now? I decided to go with it. ‘Hi there, Sir. So sorry about this, Amy has just told me she has given you the wrong gate pass. We just had them updated, that one won’t get you through.’

He looked convinced enough. ‘Oh dear,’ he said softly.

‘But if you give me that one, I’ll make sure it gets back to the desk. Amy has just popped off to get you another one,’ I continued, controlling the situation. There was no Amy on reception but it was all about confidence (hence why they call it a ‘con’). I didn’t really give him a choice. I gently took the pass off him and told him to take a seat and Amy would be with him shortly.

I had done it. It was almost certainly not up to Emma’s standard but I had conned someone out of something. I could see why people did it; I had a huge rush just from lying to an old man.

Sophie’s eyes were closed as people rushed about her, checking her pulse and poking her but I was sure she was watching me through a small slit in her eyelids. She seemed to smile as I scanned the ID badge and slipped through the gate. I was in.

I had done the hard part. Now I had to find room number 165. Once you were past the gates, and the escalator to the next floor, you filtered through a small corridor before being greeted by three massive elevators. Either side there looked like a set of staircases, which I would not be using. This building was huge and I was out of shape.

The only way I could find the room was trial and error. There was no one of use around and no signs on the walls indicating where to go. I got off on the first floor and looked at the room numbers. Too low. Same with the second floor. I pushed up to the sixth floor. Too high. Eventually on the fourth floor I found it.

It was a small room right at the end of a long corridor. There was no one on the corridor and I couldn’t hear any footsteps. I was alone. At last, some good news. I pushed the door handle down. It was locked. Fuck.

Lying to old men I could just about do, but picking locks (without any tools) was not in my skill set. What could I do? Right, think. Maybe I could find a cleaner and pretend I had locked something inside. Too risky. I had the gun... could I shoot the lock? Ridiculous. I was more likely to shoot myself. That just left one option. I stood back, took a deep breath and kick it.

Absolutely nothing happened. Well that was not true. It made a huge noise and almost broke my foot, but it certainly did nothing to the structural rigidity of the lock. I paused for a second, checking nobody was coming to investigate the bang and tried again. I decided this time to go in with my shoulder taking the brunt, and after several painful charges, the lock gave way. I was in.

I pushed the door closed behind me and switched on the light. The room was a mess. It was clearly just used for storage and even more clearly hadn’t been opened up for weeks. It was disgusting. It looked like the type of room that got into such a state that you just locked the door and abandoned it forever.

Where the hell was I going to start? There must have been twenty large boxes filled with thousands of old files and pieces of paper. There were bags in the one corner which looked so old, I was morally against opening. Just to make things a bit harder, there were stacks of old chairs blocking my path through the room.

I figured that 2903 must be relevant here. That was the only thing left on the note I hadn’t used. Was it a box number or a particular page number in one of the files? It was the easiest thing to remember and the only one that was poignant to me. 2903. 29th of March. Our wedding anniversary. Even though we'd never had a real wedding it still meant something to me and clearly it did to Emma too.

I decided to walk once around the room to try and see if anything jumped. The state the room was in it was more likely a wild animal would jump out at me than an idea but it was worth a shot. With great difficulty, I circumnavigated the room. Nothing stood out. I couldn’t see anything with the number 2903 on.

I completed my circle and stood once more facing the room. There seemed to be a flashing coming from a small cupboard right at the back of the room. I had missed this the first time. I was worried the light might be coming from some sort of sensor. Maybe I had triggered an alarm. I rushed over to it to examine it. It wasn’t a camera or an alarm. It was so much better. It was a safe.

I forced open the cupboard door, knocking over several boxes of files as went. I had found what Emma wanted me to. I was impressed that she had believed in me that much. I would never have thought I could have found this but she obviously did. It showed me how powerful the men who had her were and what lengths she had to go to hide this from them. I could wait no longer. I took a deep breath and punched in the number 2-9-0-3. There was a rumble and an electronic bleep, then a green light shone. It was open.

I grabbed the handle eagerly and yanked the door ajar. It was full of so many things my mind struggled to take it all in. The safe was almost waist-high and it was jammed full. There was a huge