Read Online A New Dawn Rising by Michael Joseph - Free Book Online
Authors: Michael Joseph
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replied Peter, puffing out his chest. 'I'm dropping it off at Rigbys auction house. I've moved everything out of the house down there over the last few months. Well, everything of value.'
Sam's intuition about missing items had been right. But an auction house?
'Why is Carl taking the stuff down there? It's not as though he needs the cash.'
Peter looked at his watch and shuffled his feet. It was evident he wanted to get off.
'He's not selling it. He's storing it for safekeeping. Charles Rigby's letting him keep it all in his warehouse at the back of the auction house.'
Sam wondered why Carl needed to store his valuables away. Environmental activists weren't known for stealing works of art from people's homes. And why use somebody's warehouse? Surely a vault storage company would be more secure?
'Right, I'm getting off,' announced Peter. 'It'll take takes ages to unload this little lot, especially if someone's already parked outside the front of Rigbys. It's murder getting in there.'
Sam watched him drive off. He wasn't entirely convinced by Peter's story, but he doubted the man would be robbing Carl so blatantly. He would check it out when Carl turned up. If he ever did. Sam got his phone out, fed up with waiting. Time to give Carl a ring.
He heard a vehicle approach the house. About time, he thought, slipping his phone back into his pocket. However, it wasn't the Range Rover that appeared. Instead, a black BMW came into view, sliding to a halt yards away from Sam. Two big guys with shaven heads got out and walked towards him. All muscle and intimidatory stares.
'Who are you?' one of them growled at him.
Sam weighed them up. They weren't here for a friendly chat.
'A friend of the bloke who lives here,' he replied, being purposely vague. 'Who are you after?'
'Your mate, Carl Renshaw,' said the second meat-head, spitting out the name with distaste. 'Now, where is he?'
'You tell me,' said Sam, continuing to play dumb. 'I've been ringing the bell for ages.'
This stumped them. They looked at each other, uncertain of what to do next.
Sam thought he would push it a bit.
'What do you want him for?' he asked amiably. 'Maybe I can help.'
Neither man replied. They just stared at him with curiosity. Sam could almost see the cogs whirring in their thick skulls. They were trying to work him out.
'No? Okay, I can give you his number if you want,' he suggested, pulling his phone out. 'Not that it will do you much good. I've been trying to get hold of him since I got here.'
Without saying a word, both men stepped up to Sam. He was impressed. Synchronised intimidation. Straight out of gangster school. He readied himself.
'We've already got his number,' said the slightly larger thug, his face only inches away from Sam's. So close Sam could feel his warmth breath. 'You tell Carl Renshaw we called, and you tell him we'll be back if we don't get what we want.'
Both men gave Sam one final menacing stare and left.
Sam sat down on the steps and pondered what had just happened. In a way, he was glad Carl hadn't been here. Things would have only got nasty. Sam had been tempted to ask the two goons once again why they were calling on Carl, but he hadn't really needed to.
He had seen it many times before.
It was nearly always about money.
Chapter 15
Sam had given up waiting and was getting into his car when the Renshaw's Range Rover finally appeared. Carl was driving, with Molly alongside him and the girls in the back. Sam moved away from his car. He had a few questions for Carl.
However, Carl wasn't in the mood for talking. He jumped out of the Range Rover and marched over to Sam.
'Sam, there's been a change of plan,' he said with a serious expression. 'I don't need you until later.'
'Okay, but I want to have a word with you about-'
Carl interrupted him.
'I haven't got time to talk,' he said sharply. 'I've got a meeting to get to and it's going to last all day.'
Molly was helping her daughters out of the car. Once out, the
Sam's intuition about missing items had been right. But an auction house?
'Why is Carl taking the stuff down there? It's not as though he needs the cash.'
Peter looked at his watch and shuffled his feet. It was evident he wanted to get off.
'He's not selling it. He's storing it for safekeeping. Charles Rigby's letting him keep it all in his warehouse at the back of the auction house.'
Sam wondered why Carl needed to store his valuables away. Environmental activists weren't known for stealing works of art from people's homes. And why use somebody's warehouse? Surely a vault storage company would be more secure?
'Right, I'm getting off,' announced Peter. 'It'll take takes ages to unload this little lot, especially if someone's already parked outside the front of Rigbys. It's murder getting in there.'
Sam watched him drive off. He wasn't entirely convinced by Peter's story, but he doubted the man would be robbing Carl so blatantly. He would check it out when Carl turned up. If he ever did. Sam got his phone out, fed up with waiting. Time to give Carl a ring.
He heard a vehicle approach the house. About time, he thought, slipping his phone back into his pocket. However, it wasn't the Range Rover that appeared. Instead, a black BMW came into view, sliding to a halt yards away from Sam. Two big guys with shaven heads got out and walked towards him. All muscle and intimidatory stares.
'Who are you?' one of them growled at him.
Sam weighed them up. They weren't here for a friendly chat.
'A friend of the bloke who lives here,' he replied, being purposely vague. 'Who are you after?'
'Your mate, Carl Renshaw,' said the second meat-head, spitting out the name with distaste. 'Now, where is he?'
'You tell me,' said Sam, continuing to play dumb. 'I've been ringing the bell for ages.'
This stumped them. They looked at each other, uncertain of what to do next.
Sam thought he would push it a bit.
'What do you want him for?' he asked amiably. 'Maybe I can help.'
Neither man replied. They just stared at him with curiosity. Sam could almost see the cogs whirring in their thick skulls. They were trying to work him out.
'No? Okay, I can give you his number if you want,' he suggested, pulling his phone out. 'Not that it will do you much good. I've been trying to get hold of him since I got here.'
Without saying a word, both men stepped up to Sam. He was impressed. Synchronised intimidation. Straight out of gangster school. He readied himself.
'We've already got his number,' said the slightly larger thug, his face only inches away from Sam's. So close Sam could feel his warmth breath. 'You tell Carl Renshaw we called, and you tell him we'll be back if we don't get what we want.'
Both men gave Sam one final menacing stare and left.
Sam sat down on the steps and pondered what had just happened. In a way, he was glad Carl hadn't been here. Things would have only got nasty. Sam had been tempted to ask the two goons once again why they were calling on Carl, but he hadn't really needed to.
He had seen it many times before.
It was nearly always about money.
Chapter 15
Sam had given up waiting and was getting into his car when the Renshaw's Range Rover finally appeared. Carl was driving, with Molly alongside him and the girls in the back. Sam moved away from his car. He had a few questions for Carl.
However, Carl wasn't in the mood for talking. He jumped out of the Range Rover and marched over to Sam.
'Sam, there's been a change of plan,' he said with a serious expression. 'I don't need you until later.'
'Okay, but I want to have a word with you about-'
Carl interrupted him.
'I haven't got time to talk,' he said sharply. 'I've got a meeting to get to and it's going to last all day.'
Molly was helping her daughters out of the car. Once out, the
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