Free Falling by Gordon Brown Page A

head I realise this is folly
and get scared that the thugs will still be around. I was close to getting a
real kicking and I have no intention of opening myself up to such abuse. But I
still need out.
    I know
the locks on these cupboards are not substantial. Unusually the door opens
outwards, as they all do. I wonder how much pressure I would need to pop the
lock. I lean my shoulder into the door, press and build up until I am putting
as much pressure on as possible but nothing gives. I consider my next move. I
can shoulder charge the door but this is hardly a silent option and if the
thugs are still around I’m in trouble. But I need to do something. They could
come back soon and that isn’t a fun story either.
    I make
my mind up and back up as far as the cupboard will let me and take a run at the
door and hit it with my shoulder. I bounce back and my shoulder registers its
disapproval in a big way. The door seems unaffected so I try again with the
same result and after the third attempt I stop. Obviously the locks are a touch
more substantial than I gave them credit for.
    I scan
the cupboard for anything of use but it is clean as a whistle. I search my
pockets and come up with a small win in the shape of a Swiss Army knife. Not
the daddy of the range but a faithful servant over the years.
    It is
about four inches long and nearly an inch thick and amongst a small array of
accoutrements it has two blades - a three inch and a two inch. I flip out the
smaller blade and try and insert it where the lock is located but the door
frame protects the mechanism. Had I been on the outside this would have been
easy. Had I been on the outside this would be a redundant problem.
    I study
the door frame. A protecting strip of wood is tacked on to the door frame with
what look like small panel pins. I insert my knife between frame and wood at
the top of the door and lever the strip away. At first the small pins hold firm
but then, with a small pop, part of the strip comes free. I bend to the floor
and repeat the process.
    I move
up the strip, prising it away from the frame until it is sitting proud a
centimetre or so along its entire length. I turn my attention to the lock area
and work at the strip until there is enough space to get my fingers in. I
insert my fingers and try to pull the strip free from its mountings but it is
stubborn. I start again with the knife at the bottom and this time loosen the
whole strip another centimetre and insert my fingers and try again. This time
it splinters and pulls away. I throw it behind me and insert the small knife
into the now exposed gap between door and frame and with a little effort pop
the lock.
    I open
the door but keep it from swinging free. I push my head through the gap and
look out. The stairs seem empty. I open the door further and put my head round
the door. Still all clear. I exit.
    I head
down to the next floor and I hear approaching footsteps with some speed on
them. The door below opens and two figures come through. I throw myself against
the wall but there is nowhere to hide. The figures start up the stair and
reveal themselves to be a policeman and a paramedic. They rush past me and up
to the roof. I change my mind about going down. Police upstairs. Thugs maybe
downstairs. I’ll go with the police.
    I’m
back on the roof seconds behind the police and the paramedic. There are another
two policemen on the opposite side of the roof to where Charlie was being
thrown off. I follow the paramedic and the first policeman over and see Charlie
lying on the ground. The paramedic drops to the ground and gets to work. The
policeman walks over to me.
    I give
him chapter and verse. No holding back. I tell him who Charlie is and he notes
it all down and then makes me go through the story again. ‘ Was the man being
thrown from the roof or did he jump.’ ‘I don’t know.’ ‘Did the two men in suits
say anything?’ ‘Not much.’ ‘Do I know why they might have chosen to throw
Charlie off