Cobb had no way of knowing where to look for the kind of wig he was seeking. He walked the large back room storage staring at piles of boxes, on the side of each one, clearly visible in black marker, was a stock number. He was about to start looking box by box when he heard the voices in the corridor outside. Looking to the door he saw a clipboard with listings hanging on a hook. These weren’t the made to measure specialist work that the firm made its real money from.
Cobb froze and stepped to one side of the door. He eased his silenced pistol from inside his jacket. He heard a kettle boiling in the next room and some muffled words. One set of footsteps passed the door. Some moments after the sound of the kettle another set of footsteps passed. Cobb looked at his watch. It was a quarter to nine.
He waited by the door, still, expectant and listening. There were no sounds. He pulled the manifest from the wall and looked at the listings. There were order numbers on the left and descriptions to the right. He scanned the list and caught sight of the word he was looking for, ‘blonde’. The product number fixed in his head, he scanned the boxes. It was quickly found, though there were two unwanted boxes on top. He quietly lifted the light boxes and placed them in front of the door by way of a warning hazard. He slipped out a lock knife and opened the box. Inside there were a number of blonde wigs. Cobb pulled out Wally’s pass and looked each one over. In the end, not able to try them on he chose four with curls and packed them into his rucksack.
Just as quietly as he had removed them he put the two boxes back and made his way to the back door. He flipped the Yale catch and left as he had come, unseen.
Down stairs in the shop the manager and his deputy had no idea how close to death they had been. Sipping coffee they waited for their day’s custom.
The DIC team were on Gun Street by ten past nine, the Vectra and the armed response car were backed up by a police car at each end of the street. Tony and Jaz got out with the Inspector. They approached the car and looked around, trying the doors.
Back in the Vectra Shadz sat with his cell phone linked to his laptop waiting on messages and tapped into the city CCTV.
Still one step ahead and more by luck than planning Cobb had pulled the black coat on at the back of the wig shop building, pulled up the hood and wound the scarf around his face ‘hoody’ style. He was heading into the city centre and there was CCTV there, lots of it. On his way in, close to High Street, two police cars flew past him, blue lights flashing, no sirens, heading, he knew, for Gun Street.
He quickened his pace and made it to the Arndale Centre around ten past nine and rapidly found the Vision Express. Outside he checked Wally’s Pass again to get a picture of the glasses. Before he went in he took off the hood, undid the coat and loosened the scarf. CCTV camera ten metres away caught his image and as he walked into the shop DIC alerts in the city flagged up on Shadz’s laptop.
Cobb knew he didn’t have long, but played it cool nonetheless. He walked around the shop looking at the racks of glasses frames, each with clear plastic lenses firmly fixed in. He was asked if he needed help and politely explained he was browsing. A rack containing the frames that looked most like those in Wally’s pass was his third stop in the store. He selected the frames, then four others and tried each different frame twice putting them, not back on the rack, but on the shelf in front of him. In the shuffle of hand to eyes, down to shelf and hand to eyes he palmed the wanted frames into his sleeve.
Casually he glanced at his watch and made the look of a man who is late. Leaving the unwanted frames on the shelf in a pile he left the store. It was ten minutes before the tutting assistant went to replace the frames on the rack and noticed the stolen item, by that time Cobb was away.
The Vectra came skidding at high speed into the Arndale Centre pick up point and the three DIC team members jumped out slamming doors. Armed response vehicles pulled up and plain clothes and uniformed armed police scurried to every exit and entrance.
Each door team was given a picture of Cobb and were told he was wearing a black coat.
Tony, Jaz and Shadz sprinted the short distance to the Vision Express and once outside the door only Jaz went in whilst the other two scoured the crowds.
A very short distance away Cobb was in River Island, buying clothes in as similar a style to Wally as he could remember, duffle coat included, and he added a shoulder bag to replace his recognisable rucksack.
The girl with dark hair took his card and smiled.
“Wow a completely new look for you and well chosen too. You ought to grow your hair.”
“Good idea.” Cobb said. “Do you think long blonde curls would suit m?.”
“Yeah better than a pony tail if you don’t mind me saying. A lot of older men do that to look cool and it doesn’t work.”
Cobb smiled. He punched the pin number into the receptor praying for the girl’s sake that the card hadn’t been cancelled.
Luckily for Cobb the drunk he had robbed in the room next to his back at the hotel hadn’t cancelled the card. That morning after being woken by armed police at the hotel the muzzy headed lad had taken a shower, got dressed and was just finishing breakfast at the hotel as Cobb used his card. The unlucky hotel guest was regaling his mates with his possible near death experience and how he would have handled the armed killer. His friends joked about his car being filled full of holes and he was horrified to recall his laptop being in the boot. It was only hours later, when he needed to check out of the hotel that he remembered, with embarrassment, that he didn’t have his card. His friends paid for him with the thought that there’s one born every minute and Cobb had the same thought as the girl thanked him and bagged the items, giving him the receipt.
“Could I change into these now? I have a…” Cobb paused for effect “… date and I wanted to wear them.”
“Yes that’s fine the changers are over there.”
Cobb walked casually to the changing room, pulled the curtain across and began his transformation.
Once in the Vision Express store Jaz had pulled out her pass and angled her arm so that the underarm holster and shiny black Sig showed a little. She ‘tagged’ a shop assistant and held up the sketch of Cobb.
“Have you seen this man?”
The girl looked at the pass, noted the gun and stared back at the picture.
“Yes he was in here about ten minutes ago. He was looking at frames. Is he dangerous?” The assistant who had put the frames back wandered over.
“Is this about the shoplifter?” He asked.
Jaz stared hard at the boy. “Shoplifter?” She exclaimed.
“Yes.” He looked at the picture. “I saw that guy trying frames. Anyway he left them in a mess and when I went back to put them on the rack there was a frame missing.”
“Thank you.” Jaz joined Shadz and Tony outside. Tony was holding his cell phone.
“Local police are in the CCTV security booth watching for him.”
The phone rang.
“Yeah?” He listened, nodded and flipped the phone shut and turned to Jaz and Shadz. “River Island, don’t pull weapons in the store. Just wait.”
“He’s got glasses.” Jaz spoke as they half jogged across the mall.
“Glasses huh? Disguises. Damn.”