A blonde woman entered the shop and began darting between cabinets. In double-quick time, Wright lifted one of the medium-sized crates and hurried off towards the vault with it. The blonde customer spoke to Pamela, who donned white gloves to open a cabinet. While she was showing the customer indistinguishable small objects, Wright reappeared and took the third crate down to the basement.
At 15.47, yet another man appeared in the shop. He was balding, almost spherical in shape, wearing a backpack, and also appeared to be wearing overalls. Strike hit pause.
‘That’s Jim Todd, the cleaner.’
‘How d’you know?’
‘Because when I spoke to him, he assumed I already knew he’d been summoned to the shop by Pamela, because Wright needed help getting the biggest crate down to the vault. Todd cleans for a local office on Friday afternoons, so he was in the vicinity. Pamela pressured him into leaving early and helping her out.’
‘He doesn’t look the heavy-lifting type,’ said Robin.
‘You’d be right about that,’ said Strike, pressing play again. ‘Watch.’
Wright, who’d just returned from the vault, joined Todd in lifting the largest crate, though Todd was clearly struggling to support the weight of it, and they edged, crab-like, towards the stairs to the vault and disappeared. Pamela was still busy with the blonde customer. Strike pressed fast forward. Wright returned to the shop floor alone.
‘I think Todd’s having a minor heart attack downstairs,’ said Strike. ‘Keep watching.’
The blonde customer was still making her choice of purchase, and Robin remembered the little silver orb charm she’d liked. Todd finally reappeared, massaging his chest. The blonde left the shop. Pamela descended the stairs to the vault alone.
‘This,’ said Strike, ‘will be when Pamela started prising off crate lids and realised part of the delivery’s got mixed up… she comes back upstairs…’
Pamela returned to the shop floor, holding unidentifiable objects in her arms.
‘The “minor items” Pamela bid on, that should have gone to Bullen & Co?’ said Robin.
‘You should be a detective,’ said Strike.
‘She finds a bag for the stuff, gives it to Wright, tells him to take it to Bullen & Co… he leaves… and now she makes another call.’
Strike pressed fast forward again. Pamela finished the call on her mobile, then had a conversation with Todd, who seemed, from his gestures, to be telling her he needed to be elsewhere.
‘Saying she still needs him,’ said Robin.
‘Yeah,’ said Strike, ‘because Wright won’t be able to carry the centrepiece down into the vault alone, once they’ve got it back from Bullen & Co.’
Pamela went back down to the vault, reappearing at 16.42. She took something from her jacket pocket.
‘Watch closely,’ said Strike, hitting play again.
‘A text?’ said Robin, as the on-screen Pamela stared at whatever was in her hand.
‘I think so,’ said Strike. ‘Watch the body language.’
Pamela stood frozen for almost a minute, before Todd spoke to her. She looked up at him. Another animated conversation followed, Pamela pointing at the vault, then making hand-chopping movements.
‘Laying down the law,’ said Strike. ‘He wants to go, but she wants him to stay to help Wright downstairs with the centrepiece, once it arrives.’
Strike fast forwarded yet again, stopping at six minutes past five, when Pamela received yet another call on her mobile. With her mobile clamped to her ear, she pointed at Todd, who left through the front door. At nine minutes past five, both Wright and Todd reappeared, staggering under the weight of another large crate.
‘The Oriental Centrepiece has been delivered to the correct buyer,’ said Strike, as the two men staggered out of sight through the door leading to the vault.
Todd re-emerged from the basement, holding Pamela’s shoulder bag. She snatched it from his hand and, talking to him over her shoulder, strode towards the street door.
‘And she leaves,’ said Strike, pressing pause again.
‘For a woman who was punctilious about security earlier…’ said Robin.
‘Exactly. She’s buggered off, leaving two men in the shop who don’t have codes or keys – or shouldn’t have.’
Strike pressed play again. Jim Todd appeared to be having a coughing fit.
‘Is this where the heart attack happens?’ asked Robin.
‘He survives, but I think the manual labour’s taken its toll.’
He fast forwarded until five to six.
‘Wright comes back upstairs… Todd leaves…’
‘Hang on,’ said Robin, and Strike pressed pause again. ‘Wright’s holding something, isn’t he?’
Strike rewound and pressed play.
‘He is,’ said Robin. ‘A bag or something. He’s holding it to his chest.’
‘Maybe,’ said Strike. The film was so grainy it was hard to tell. ‘He puts down the blinds… the right-hand one still won’t go to the bottom of the window… turns off the light… and leaves, slamming the door.’
Strike paused the footage again.
‘Thoughts?’ he said.
‘The vault door could still be open. The front door hasn’t been properly locked. The alarm isn’t set.’
‘You’re good,’ said Strike.
‘Collusion between Wright and Pamela?’
‘Got to be a possibility. Now watch…’