Mr Dixon Disappears

‘Look,’ said the caretaker.

Israel went over to the safe, pushed the little door shut, opened it again.

‘Double-locking system,’ said the caretaker.

‘Right. Er…’

‘Key and combination.’

‘Uh-huh. And this is where the money was stolen?’

‘Some of it.’

‘How much was in there?’

‘Few thousand.’

‘Ah well,’ said Israel breezily, ‘big business like this, be able to absorb that, won’t it?’

‘Come here till I show ye,’ said the caretaker, who really did seem to be taking things very badly, who looked like a beaten man, in fact, his whole body and his stomach sagging, and he walked through with Israel into another room off the office.

This room was warmer, and smaller still. There were no windows. And lined up against the back wall were two large metal boxes, like huge American fridges, though without the cold water and ice-dispenser facility – Gloria’s family had a big fridge, back home in London, and Israel could never work it properly; he always got ice-cubes all over the floor.

The doors of the safes stood open.

‘Wow.’

‘These are the deposit safes,’ said the caretaker.

‘Right.’ Israel went over to them. ‘Can I?’

‘Go ahead.’

Israel peeked inside. He stroked the smooth steel shelves.

‘They’re empty too then.’

‘Aye.’

‘But they should be full?’

‘Aye.’

‘Gosh,’ said Israel. He always sounded more English in a crisis. ‘So how much money would have been in there?’

The caretaker did not reply.

‘How much in these?’ repeated Israel, remembering not to add ‘my good man’ and sound too Lord Peter Wimsey.

‘A lot.’ The caretaker was ashen-faced.

‘OK. And how much exactly is a lot?’

‘Ach…’ The caretaker huffed. ‘Difficult to say. You know, Bank Holiday. There might have been farmers in yesterday, might ha’ sold a heifer, and that’d be the money for a new dining suite, so.’

‘Right. I see. So…how much, do you think? Thousands?’

‘Tens of thousands.’

‘Good grief. That much?’

‘Could have been. Busy time of year. These uns take about £100,000 apiece I think.’

‘Bloody hell.’

‘Aye.’

‘Gosh. Well…’

Israel looked around the room.

‘I just cannae understand it,’ said the caretaker. ‘All the security. CCTV and alarms and all.’

‘The doors look fine,’ said Israel. ‘It doesn’t look as if anyone broke in.’

‘I can’t find Mr Dixon anywhere,’ said the caretaker.

‘Well, maybe he’s just—’

‘He’s always in his office by now. He arrives half six, parks up down below.’

‘Is that his car out front?’ said Israel.

‘The Mercedes, aye,’ said the caretaker.

‘Nice car,’ said Israel. ‘Maybe he’s just gone to the toilet, or—’

‘Mr Dixon doesnae go to the toilet at this time,’ said the caretaker.

‘Right.’

‘He doesnae go till eight o’clock.’

‘Erm. OK. Gone for a stroll then maybe?’

‘He doesnae go for a stroll.’

‘Well, maybe he’s just popped out. You know, to get a paper or—’