To Kill Or Be Killed by Richard Wiseman Read Free Book Online Page B

took
out the brown ‘jiffy’ parcel, sealed, and put it on the table.
    “One number in
the memory, untraceable, registered to a fake name and
disposable.”
    “Good. That’s
all then.” Robinson once again spoke with authority, reminding
himself he was speaking to a government lackey.
    Bentall got
up.
    “Thank you
minister, I’ll pass your consent to my superior?”
    “Please
do.”
    Bentall left
quietly.
    Robinson opened
the parcel and took out an orange coloured Bic ‘disposable’ cell
phone. It was a clever gadget. It came with a pre charged battery
and pre paid talk time. He’d seen them in France. This one was
citrus orange colour.
     
     

Chapter
18
    Inverness
    10 a.m.
    April 17th
     
    Peter Mason
arrived at Inverness rail station, close to ten in the morning. He
knew that he was booked on the night train, but he also knew that
he had the option to trade the ticket for a single ticket going
south during the day. He’d had enough of trains. He wanted to be
more independent. He knew that the credit card would stretch to a
rental car, but that would leave a trail.
    He caught a bus
out of the city going north towards the Moray Firth. Sure enough,
within fifteen minutes he’d found himself on the Carse Industrial
Estate. After getting off the bus he wandered around the various
units, scanning the car parks. He wanted an old car, the kind with
visible pull up locks. He found what he was looking for under trees
in the car park of a delivery firm. The owner of the mid
nineteen-eighties white Alfasud Ti, a classic hatchback, was going
to be devastated by the loss of his pride and joy.
    Mason pulled up
his hood, knowing he looked suspicious, but wanting to avoid the
CCTV getting too good an image. He didn’t mind that he had been
seen on other security systems CCTV cameras, it was being recorded
committing a crime that counted; just being around when it happened
wasn’t a crime. He was shielded from the building partly by the
small trees lining a pathway, which ran through the estate.
    He pulled a 30
centimetre piece of nylon parcel binder from his rucksack, creased
it, slid it in through the driver’s side window and worked it down
to the knob topped door lock release, on the inside; making a loop,
by pushing one end of the binder, he slid it over the lock, pulled
both ends tight and lifted the lock. The door opened easily. He
learned that trick out in Asia. Most of the cars out there were old
and the security was easily by passed with the nylon parcel binder.
He angled himself into the car, pulled the door closed and lay
hidden below the steering wheel. His six inch lock knife did for
the plastic around the key ignition and within moments of rewiring
the ignition he was driving out of the estate.
    It didn’t take
him long to find a residential area. It was there that he swapped
number plates. He’d had to find a car with a square plate at the
back. Having found a Suzuki Jeep he’d had to lay between that car
and the one parked behind to hide from prying windows, it being
broad daylight. Walking, casually, the short distance between the
Suzuki and his stolen Alfa he fixed opposite plates back on both
cars, with an industrial strength, quick drying glue, also from his
rucksack; Mason had a lot of neat little tricks up his sleeve, or
in this case his rucksack.
    With that done
he checked a convenient map in the car and drove for Glasgow.
Checking the petrol gauge he knew he’d make it. The little Alfasud
handled really well and had a good amount of ‘kick’ in the gear
box. He sped onto the A9 Stirling bound. Having looked at a map he
knew he’d get the M80 into Glasgow from there. After that he’d
either get a train or plane, depending on the circumstances.
     
     

Chapter
19
    Glasgow
    10 - 30 a.m.
    April 17th
     
    Wheeler had
been on the ‘eighty-two’ all the way down Loch Lomond and was
pleased. He had just enough in the bike’s tank to get him into
Glasgow and he was grinning beneath his helmet as