He awoke again with a start. The big man was kicking him in the ribs, none too gently. They strapped him into the chair again and carried him back upstairs. The room looked the same except for a flip-chart which had been erected close to the camcorder. Kevin also noticed a large sheaf of papers on the table, next to the laptop.
The one with glasses took the lead again. “OK, are you ready to apologise now?”
Kevin shook his head.
“Well then, we seem to have reached a stalemate.” He sat down on one of the chairs, removed his glasses and began polishing them.
“Maybe,” said Kevin. “But I have a proposition for you.”
“Alright, let’s hear it.”
“I’m not going to apologise. But I will give a million pounds to charity and I won’t go to the police. It’s not quite what you wanted – but I’m offering to meet you half way.”
“You really don’t get it, do you?” growled the big man. “It’s not about the money.”
Meanwhile, the one in camouflage gear had gone over to the flipchart. With a somewhat theatrical flourish, he tore off the top sheet to reveal the words: “IT’S THE APOLOGY, STUPID!” scrawled across the sheet below in black marker pen. They all looked at him expectantly.
Kevin rolled his eyes. Did they really think a childish stunt like that would make him change his mind? These people clearly had no idea how to run a negotiation.
“Look,” he said, patiently, “my position on the apology hasn’t changed. I’ve told you what I’m prepared to offer. You get a million quid for the charity of your choice and I won’t go to the police.”
There was no response. Kevin sensed that something was up. They no longer seemed to be thrown off balance by his refusal.
The one with glasses looked at the other two and then slowly removed his balaclava, revealing a frizzy mass of grey hair. The other two followed suit, although Kevin thought they seemed a little reluctant. He noted with satisfaction that the big man matched his description. But what the hell were they were up to?
“There you are,” said the man in glasses. “Now you can see what we look like. You can also see that we’re not afraid of your threat to go to the police – we’re quite prepared to face prison if that’s what it takes to get you to apologise. I think we should probably introduce ourselves as well, just to show that we’ve got nothing to hide. My name’s Harry, this is Dave and this is Gazzer. So, how about it – are you going to apologise now?”
Kevin considered the implications of this new state of affairs. If they were not afraid of going to prison, then they had effectively neutralised his threat of going straight to the police on his release – and in the process, destroyed much of the value in the deal he was offering them. So to that extent, the balance of the negotiations had shifted in their favour.
But what were they planning to do if he continued to refuse to apologise? They might threaten to kill him - but he remained convinced that they’d never be able to bring themselves to actually do it. So they would just remain in a stalemate. And the longer that went on, the more likelihood there was of the police or the Bank tracking him down. So he just shook his head and said nothing.
“Alright then,” said Harry, “have it your own way. Dave, get the camera ready. Let’s start the trial.”
“You can’t put me on trial,” said Kevin contemptuously. “This is just a kangaroo court. Who’s going to be the judge?”
“The people will be the judge. We’re just the prosecutors. Don’t worry, you’ll be given an opportunity to put your case. But I don’t think the people will have too much difficulty deciding who’s right and who’s wrong.”
* * * * * * * *