AND A BLOODY MERRY CHRISTMAS TO YOU ALL.

By Bob French

Robert Henderson clenched his fists in anger as Geoffry Smitherton, the CEO of Hamilton and Buckfast, the firm where he had worked for the past 9 years, cleared his throat.

          “You leave me no choice Henderson.  You oversaw the security and delivery of the gold bullion, its route, and timings.  You even chose the security men to ensure that it reached the bank on time and intact.”

Robert knew it was a stitch-up.  Jess, an old navy friend who worked in the security business had tipped him off that some one was going to steal the year’s gold deposits.  He also knew that, according to Heidi, his girlfriend, and the assistant accountant of the firm, that when she checked the findings of the November audit, the books didn’t balance and there was a deficit of several million pounds.   He had to say something, but he knew that if he did, innocent people would lose their jobs, so he stood there and took it.

“Please report to the head porter, who will accompany you to your office where you will clear out your desk and hand over any security access cards you have.  I want you out of this building by mid-day, now get out of my sight!”   As he made his way out of the building, he thought it strange that if they were sure he was responsible for the crime, why weren’t the police being involved?

It was two weeks later that he had a call from Jenny, a close friend to say that Heidi had been involved in a hit and run and was in hospital.  He was beside her bed within the hour, and as he held her hand, he whispered that he loved her and that she must get better so they could get married.  He felt her hand gently squeeze his as she whispered something that brought tears to his eyes. As he clung onto her hand, he could feel her slowly slipping away. When the monitor stopped recording her heart beat, he looked up at the nurse and questioned her with his eyes. The nurse slowly shook her head, then quietly left the room to seek assistance. Robert gently kissed her and spoke quietly that he would avenge her death.

Robert retired to his cottage where he found solace in the silence of the snow-covered countryside.    Each day he would slowly trudge through the winter landscape as snow fell softly around him, blanketing the world in a muted hush. Each step crunched beneath his boots, a sound that felt alien in the vast silence around him.  He used to love walks like these with Heidi, her laughter dancing on the crisp air, her breath visible in frosty puffs. Now, each footfall felt like a reminder of her absence and it tore at the muscles of his heart.

It had been eight months since the day everything changed. When the future he expected with his Heidi had flickered and then dimmed.  He recalled the way Heidi held his hand in those last dying minutes of her life, her fingers entwined with his, whispering that she would always be with him,

“Just look for me in the small things,” she had said, her voice barely above a whisper.  And yet he found himself lost in a world that felt impossibly large without her.

The trees loomed tall and bare, their branches heavy with snow, creating a fragile canopy above him.  He paused for a moment, allowing the chilly air to fill his lungs, letting it clear the fog in his mind.  He remembered how they used to walk this very path, hand in hand, sharing dreams and secrets beneath the shelter of the pines.

Robert shook his head, trying to dispel the sorrow that clung to him like the falling snow. He continued, his breath coming in steady puffs as he moved deeper into the woods.  The world was a tapestry of white and gray, and he felt as if he were wandering through a dream, disconnected from reality.

As he rounded a bend, he spotted the small clearing where sunlight used to break-through the clouds of falling snow, illuminating a lone bench dusted with snow. It had been their favorite spot – a place to pause, to breathe, and to watch the world go by.  He approached the bench, his heart heavy with memories, as he sat down, allowing the cold to seep through his coat, feeling the weight of solitude settle in beside him.

A gust of wind stirred the snowflakes, swirling them like tiny dancers in the air.  In that moment, he thought he heard her voice, soft and melodic, beckoning him to remember the beauty around him. 

“Look for me in the small things,” it echoed.  He closed his eyes, letting the memory wash over him; a gentle warmth seeping through his body. Robert sat silently for a while, then opened his eyes at the sight of a small bird flitting from branch to branch, its vibrant plumage standing out against the winter backdrop.  He smiled as the little bird seem to look at him before vanishing into the depth of the forest.  May be Heidi was right.  In the stillness of the snow-clad forest, in the life that persisted, even in the cold, she was there-embedded in the beauty of the moment.

With a deep breath, Robert stood up, brushed the snow from his coat, and took one last look around the clearing, a quiet farewell mingling with the gentle falling of snow.  As he walked back along the path, he felt a little lighter, as if the memories, though bittersweet, could also be a balm.  The snow continued to fall, but now, it felt like a blanket of hope, wrapping around him, inviting him to carry on.

          After a week of contemplation, he called Jenny and asked if she would meet him for coffee, but not in town.  She agreed, understanding his reluctance to be seen together particularly as the theft of the gold was still fresh in some people’s minds. Robert played rugby for Brightlingsea and often used The Queen’s Head pub, secluded on the outskirts of Tolleshunt D'arcy, where he used to entertain Heidi.

 

          He also invited Jess and as they sat down with a drink, Robert spoke.

“Listen I know the robbery was a stitch-up, but what was the scam and who was involved?”

 

          Jess spoke first. “I’ve been doing a little bit of digging in prep for this meeting and I can tell you that the mob who did the job came from Nottingham; four of them.”

 

          Jenny quickly looked over her shoulder, checking that no one was listening, then spoke in a hushed voice. “Heidi told me that she worked it out, which is why they killed her, I think. The gold, which was insured, would be stolen and the firm would receive a huge payout, which would cover the loss and sort out the debt.”

 

“What debt?

 

“Heidi had discovered that Smitherton had racked up a huge gambling debt in two of the big casinos in London and each month he discreetly filtering off thousands to keep one step ahead of the mobs.  Then he personally authorised the investment for a project in South Africa which went sour.  He was well in over his head.”

 

Robert whistled to himself. “And no one spotted it?”

         

Jenny leant forward. “Yes, old man Hamilton picked it up during the autumn audit and spoke to Smitherton.  According to Nancy, his PA, he was given six months to sort it all out or he would report the matter to the police.”

 

“Who else knew about this?”

“Pritty well all the executive team, including that slimy git Frampton the Accountant and before you ask, he was the one who suggested the way to recoup the loss to the board.”

 

They all sat there in silence for a while, then Jess spoke. “I can take care of the four from Nottingham, but what have you in mind for the rest?”

 

Jenny said. “If we are now thinking of revenge and that you want to take down the whole Board of Directors, including Frampton and his hangers on, then I suggest you do it on the 23^rd of December.”

 

“What’s the significance of the 23^rd?”

 

“It’s the afternoon Hamilton and Buckfast hold their directors Christmas Party.  They normally hold it around 4:30 on the fourth floor. It's invitation only.”

 

Jess put down his pint. “We don’t want to take out those who are innocent, not before Christmas.”

 

“Good point.  I can get hold of the invite list and discretely warn off those not involved in the scam.”

 

“Thank you Jenny.  Now the question is how do we do it?”

Jess grinned. “Just so happens I still have some contacts with my old mates in the bomb disposal team, but I would need to recce the room first.”

 

          Robert sat by the burning fireplace drinking a nice 25-year-old whiskey when he heard on the six o’clock news that there had been an explosion at the firm of Hamilton and Buckfast.  According to the Fire Chief at the scene, there were no survivors.

 

          He grinned, raised his glass and toasted them, and a bloody merry Christmas to you all.”

 

Copyright Bob French Nov24