‘You don’t have a driver?’ said Lamont, as Wall climbed behind the wheel and switched on the ignition.
‘Cutbacks,’ he growled.
07.14 GMT
William spotted him the moment he entered the terminal. A dark blue double-breasted blazer, white shirt and striped tie. The commander probably slept in double-breasted pyjamas.
‘Good morning, sir.’
‘Good morning, William. Carter’s booked on BA flight 003 to Rome, departing in an hour and a half, and we’re on an Alitalia plane which takes off in forty minutes. Lieutenant Monti will meet us at the airport before driving to Civitavecchia. We’ll hang about here for a few more minutes to make sure Carter checks in. If he suspects someone might be following him, he could abort his whole trip, in which case we’ll be heading back to Scotland Yard, not Rome.’ The commander was still speaking when he grabbed William by the arm and nodded in the direction of the BA desks. Carter was striding towards the check-in counter, accompanied by a man William didn’t recognize, who was carrying a bulky holdall and pushing a trolley with two small suitcases.
‘I have a feeling I know what’s in that holdall,’ said Hawksby. ‘But there’s not a lot we can do about it.’
‘We could have them searched by security before he boards the plane.’
‘That’s the last thing we want.’
‘Why?’
‘For two reasons,’ said Hawksby as Carter was issued with his boarding pass. ‘First, we’d need to have reasonable suspicion that he’d committed a crime before we could consider checking his luggage, and secondly, if we didn’t find anything suspicious, we would have warned them off and blown our cover.’
‘Do you recognize the other man?’ asked William as they headed towards passport control.
‘Damien Grant, GBH, former weightlifter, and more recently club bouncer. He’s only there to make sure that holdall reaches its destination.’
‘Last call for Alitalia, flight number . . .’
10.07 GMT
Once they had settled in Superintendent Wall’s office, the three police officers checked and double-checked every detail of Operation Blue Period. When Lamont had answered his final question, Wall checked his watch. ‘Time to go down to the basement car park and brief the troops. It’s the only space we’ve got that’s big enough to accommodate your private army.’
Lamont and Jackie followed the superintendent out of his office and down a flight of well-worn steps into the car park, where a couple of dozen policemen and two policewomen were chatting as they waited to find out why they were there. They fell silent the moment the superintendent appeared.
‘Good morning,’ he said, tapping his swagger stick against his leg. ‘We are joined today by two officers from the Met. We are here to assist them with a special operation that will be taking place on our patch. I’ll hand over to DCI Lamont, who will brief you on the details.’
Lamont waited until Jackie had set up an easel and placed an aerial photograph of a large country estate on it.
‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ said Lamont, ‘the Met have been preparing this operation for several months, but we have always known that its outcome will depend on the professionalism of the officers on the ground.’ He pointed at them. ‘That’s you!’
Laughter and a smattering of applause broke out.
‘We have reason to believe,’ continued Wall, ‘that a well-organized gang of criminals will be raiding this property tonight.’ Jackie pointed to the photograph of a large Lutyens mansion surrounded by several acres of parkland.
‘The gang’s purpose is to steal a Picasso worth several millions, and be out of harm’s way long before the police arrive. But we’ll be waiting for them. You may ask why we need such a large force for this operation, when there will only be three or possibly four thieves involved. That’s because we know who’s behind this scam, and he’s beaten us once too often in the past. So this time we’re going to cut off his balls before he thinks about doing it again.’
A second, louder round of applause followed.
‘For this particular well-planned operation, I can assure you the villains have done their homework,’ continued Lamont. ‘They know the owners are on holiday, and they also know that the nearest police station is twenty minutes away, which they believe will give them more than enough time to vanish into thin air long before the police turn up. My second in command, DS Roycroft, will now take you through the details of Operation Blue Period, and the role you’ll be playing. DS Roycroft.’
Jackie took a pace forward, delighted to be greeted by so many enthusiastic faces who were clearly looking forward to catching some real villains, and nailing one in particular.
12.45 CENTRAL EUROPEAN TIME
The Alitalia flight landed at Da Vinci airport a few minutes behind schedule. The first thing William saw as he descended the aircraft steps was Lieutenant Monti waiting by the side of an unmarked car.
William introduced Hawksby to Monti, who saluted, opened the back door and waited for them both to climb in. Hawksby was surprised that the lieutenant was unshaven and his breath stank of garlic, but he didn’t comment.
‘No passport control, no customs?’ asked William.
‘If it had been just you, William,’ said Monti, ‘I would have met you in the arrivals hall, but when my comandante heard that Commander Hawksby would be accompanying you, he ordered me to pull out all the stops. I hope that’s the appropriate English expression?’
‘Spot on,’ said William. ‘The meaning derives from an organist pulling out the stops of his instrument to increase the volume.’
‘Thank you, constable,’ said Hawksby. ‘Most interesting.’
‘It’s not a long journey to Civitavecchia,’ said Monti, as they sped off. ‘But we need to be there well ahead of Carter and Grant. They’re booked into the Grand Hotel – grand in name only.’
‘And where are we staying?’ asked Hawksby.
‘I’m afraid your hotel is even less grand. But it does have the advantage of being on the quayside, so I’ve booked you a room overlooking the port.’
‘And William?’
‘He will be with me at all times. The harbourmaster informed me that Carter has chartered a small, fully equipped shallow search and recovery vessel for seven days. It’s ideally suited for expeditions in search of seabed treasure.’
‘Why seven days,’ asked William, ‘when they will be taking on board what they’re looking for?’
‘It’s just for show,’ Monti explained, ‘although we can’t be sure how many of the crew are in on the scam. But we assume the captain and the two divers must be.’
‘So do we just sit in Civitavecchia and wait for them to return before we arrest them?’
‘Certainly not,’ said Monti. ‘I’ve signed us both on as deckhands. They clearly want as many innocent onlookers as possible to witness their remarkable discovery.’
‘But my Italian isn’t that good,’ William reminded him.
‘I know,’ said Monti, ‘so once we’re on board, leave the talking to me. And I ought to warn you, these can be choppy waters.’
‘And I ought to warn you,’ said William, ‘I’m not a good sailor.’
12.21 GMT
‘Any questions?’ asked Jackie when she’d come to the end of her briefing.
A hand shot up. ‘Which of the two teams is more likely to be needed?’
‘We won’t know until the last moment. There are two exits from the house, here and here, where the buses will be hidden,’ said Jackie, pointing to the map. ‘But we have no way of knowing which one they’ll take. If for any reason we don’t manage to intercept them, we’ve got a helicopter on standby.’
‘I should stress,’ interjected Lamont, ‘that while you’re waiting, you can’t listen to the radio, or even chat among yourselves, because the slightest sound will alert them. Just be sure you’re not the idiot who frightens them off.’
‘What sort of vehicle are you expecting them to
be in, sir?’
‘Because of the size of the painting they plan to steal,’ said Lamont, ‘it’s likely to be a large van. They know exactly what they’re looking for, and you can be sure they’ll have worked out their escape route to the inch. Which is why we need so many of you surrounding the target.’
‘Are they likely to be armed?’
‘We think that’s unlikely,’ said Lamont. ‘You can get life for armed robbery, while for burglary you rarely get more than six years. But just to be on the safe side, we’ll have a small squad of armed police in place, but well hidden.’
‘Any intel on when they might strike?’ asked a young constable.
‘Not before six, and it won’t be after midnight,’ said Lamont without further explanation. A long silence followed.
‘If there are no more questions,’ said Jackie, ‘let’s adjourn for lunch. Try and get some kip this afternoon, and make sure you go to the toilet before you get on the bus. The first bus will leave at 4.10 p.m. The second will follow twenty minutes later, so we avoid looking like a convoy.’
‘And once you’re in place,’ said Lamont, ‘don’t forget that silence is our most effective weapon.’
14.08 CET
Monti drove William and Hawksby straight to the commander’s dockside hotel in Civitavecchia, and they all went to the room reserved by Monti on the third floor. The first thing Hawksby did was to check the sight lines from the window. He had a clear view of the port, and wouldn’t need binoculars to keep an eye on the vessel Carter had chartered. Monti had even supplied a copy of the company’s brochure in English, with a photograph of a shipwreck on the cover to tempt potential customers. What it didn’t record was their failure rate over the years. But then the crew were pirates at best, while the customers who chartered the ship were often romantics, chasing a dream. But not on this occasion.
William was about to take a shower, until Monti said, ‘Don’t bother. Try not to forget you’re a deckhand. We don’t want you smelling like a lily.’
Hawksby now understood why the lieutenant hadn’t shaved for some days, and stank of garlic.
Monti opened a large trunk that he’d left in the room earlier and produced outfits for the role they were about to play: two pairs of well-worn jeans; two unmarked T-shirts; two sweaters, one blue, one grey; and two pairs of trainers without a brand logo. Everything looked and was second-hand.
‘Let’s hope I’ve got your size right,’ said Monti, as William began to pull on a pair of jeans.
‘And what about me?’ asked Hawksby.
‘You’ll be just fine, sir,’ said Monti. ‘If you stroll along the dock dressed as you are, everyone will assume you’re the owner of a large yacht, not that you’re keeping a lookout for a couple of villains.’
‘I wish.’
‘We’ll have to leave you now, sir. We should be on board before Carter arrives.’
‘Do I have any back-up should their plans suddenly change?’
‘You’ll only see them if you need them,’ said Monti. ‘But I can assure you this isn’t the only room that we’ve booked.’
‘Chapeau,’ said Hawksby, touching his forehead.
After Monti and William had left, the commander returned to his lookout point and watched the two young officers as they walked along the quayside and boarded the ship before reporting to the chief deckhand. How he wished he was twenty years younger.
13.08 GMT
Lamont and Jackie had joined the team in the canteen for lunch, where the babble of expectant chatter revealed how eager they all were to get on with the job.
At four o’clock, after a final briefing from DS Roycroft, Lamont divided the young officers into two groups, before they began to board the two buses. At the same time, a squad of the special firearms division was setting out from Scotland Yard with orders to contact DCI Lamont the moment they had reached the target.
At eleven minutes past four, the first bus left the car park, drove up the ramp and out onto the high street. It kept a steady pace, always remaining on the inside lane, and never once breaking the speed limit. At 4.33, the second bus manoeuvred its way onto the main thoroughfare, where they were held up by early commuters on their way home from work, while they were on their way to work.
Lamont had been taken by surprise when Superintendent Wall told him that he would be accompanying them on the mission. Lamont accepted that if Wall was hoping to add the prefix chief to his rank, ‘Operation Blue Period’ would look good on his service record. Lamont had to admit, if only to himself, that the thought of promotion had also crossed his mind.
The superintendent, Lamont and Jackie were the last to leave Guildford police station in an unmarked car. By the time they reached the target, both buses were in place, engines idle, with their lights off. Twenty-six men and three women sat and waited in silence.
16.23 CET
After stowing their bags in the sleeping quarters below, the two new itinerant deckhands reported for duty on the main deck.
‘How long will it take to reach the site?’ Monti asked the chief deckhand.
‘It’s about eighty nautical miles away, so a little over eight hours. We’ll be casting off as soon as our customers and the divers come aboard. Meanwhile, you two can help with the loading.’
William and Monti made sure they pulled their weight, loading everything from crates of apples to a new winch, as clearly the skipper wanted to make it look as if they would be at sea for at least seven days.
William only stopped working when a Mercedes drew up alongside the gangway and two men stepped out onto the dockside. He recognized them immediately. A couple of deckhands took their luggage – not a lot, thought William, considering they’d booked the vessel for a week. Grant was still clutching on to the bulky holdall, and made sure the two deckhands didn’t get anywhere near it.
William and Monti remained in the shadows, to avoid coming in contact with the two passengers as they boarded the ship.
‘I can’t imagine much will happen until we reach the salvage site,’ whispered Monti, ‘but it’s still a risk we can’t afford to take. So we’ll have to remain on deck until eight bells.’
18.22 GMT
‘The firearms squad is in place, sir,’ said a lone voice over the intercom, sounding like a crack of thunder, after a couple of hours of silence.
‘Welcome aboard,’ said Lamont. ‘Maintain radio silence until you see the robbers entering the house.’
‘Roger that, sir.’
21
22.06 CET
WILLIAM SETTLED DOWN on his bunk just after ten, but he didn’t sleep. Some of the deckhands were playing cards, while others told unlikely tales of treasure they had recovered from the bottom of the ocean. It soon became clear they had no idea how successful this trip was going to be, and not many of them sounded optimistic.
While William rested, Monti continued working and keeping watch on deck. He was back by William’s bunk just after midnight, and as it was a little quieter, was able to brief his colleague without being overheard.
‘Nothing much is happening on deck,’ he said. ‘Carter and Grant haven’t left their cabins since we set sail. I doubt if we’ll see either of them before first light. But we can’t afford to take any chances, so you’d better take my place. When you go up on deck, you’ll see a lifeboat on the starboard side.’
‘Which is the starboard side?’ asked William.
‘The right, idiot. I thought you came from a nation of sailors. Climb in under the tarpaulin, so if anyone comes out on deck during your watch, they won’t see you. Just make sure you don’t fall asleep. Wake me at four and I’ll take your place.’
William made his way up a spiral staircase and out onto the deck. He spotted the lifeboat, gently swaying in the breeze, and crept cautiously towards it, stopping at the slightest unfamiliar sound.
One last check to make sure no one was watching him. He steadied the lifeboat, pulled himself up and slithered underneath the tarpaulin. He
soon realized there was no danger of falling asleep. He was far more likely to be sick.
He tried to master the technique of swinging with the boat, and however many times he kept looking at his watch, the minute hand didn’t move any faster. And then, without warning, he heard heavy footsteps approaching, followed by a voice speaking in English.
22.19 GMT
Jackie decided that this was even worse than a stake-out, because they were waiting for someone who wasn’t there, rather than for someone who was there and must eventually show up.
00.58 CET
‘Everything’s in place. Now all we have to do is . . .’
William didn’t move a muscle until the voice faded away. More words, but they were scattered in the wind. He raised the tarpaulin an inch, and his eyes settled on a group of four men standing only a few yards from the lifeboat.
Grant unzipped the holdall and lifted out the old wooden casket William had first seen in Carter’s workshop. He placed it carefully on the deck. The chief deckhand deftly tied a rope around it as if he were wrapping a large Christmas present. Once he was satisfied that it was secure, he walked across and attached the rope to a winch that William and Monti had helped carry on board. The deckhand took the handle and turned it slowly until the rope’s slack had been taken up. An older man with a weatherbeaten face and a dark unkempt beard, who was wearing a cap with braid on it, steadied the casket as it was raised inch by inch, slowly off the deck.
When it was about three feet in the air, the captain guided it gently over the ship’s railing, then nodded. The chief deckhand started to turn the winch in the opposite direction. The casket began its slow downward journey towards the water. William didn’t lose sight of the box until it disappeared beneath the waves. It was several more minutes before the wincher had done his job, and the casket came to rest on the seabed, some 130 feet below them. The captain and the chief deckhand then lowered a small anchor overboard. It was attached to a flashing buoy, marking the exact location of the drop.
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