‘I could have the lads move in,’ Lanthorn said, ‘but if you promise me a quarter, which is not asking too much, I’ll give you three days to get the stuff out first. All I want is you to leave a bag of poppy seed for me to charge the Green Toe Gang with when I make my raid on Day Four.’
Cottapilly said they could pull off the raid with no trouble, providing they had plenty of back-up, plus a couple of decoy cars. Buckshot Farm was a mile from the main road, and close to junctions of the M1, the M45 and the M6. In a couple of hours we could be anywhere in the country. With four getaway cars no one would know which one to chase, even supposing they were in a condition to do so, Cottapilly said, accentuating his hatchet face. If it happened that the laden car was pursued, the other three could close in on the pursuers and, as it was put, see to them.
It was a neat idea because nobody would be breaking the law. To rob robbers seemed a reasonable thing. And if we did stray onto the wrong side of legality I could justify it with the argument that I was taking part in the raid only as a means of trying to find some way of getting Moggerhanger and Lanthorn put behind bars.
Cottapilly showed us a map of the area. Polaroid photos went around the table, of a plain, slate-roofed farmhouse, six windows at the back and six at the front, an isolated building without sheds or barns, suggesting that it was no longer a working concern, if ever it had been. ‘It’s a good name,’ Moggerhanger said.
‘Buckshot it could be,’ George laughed.
Toffeebottle straightened his bow-tie. ‘There’s often no other way with the naughty boys of the Green Toe Gang.’
Parkhurst sat to the right of the door, mindlessly striking matches and letting them drop into an ashtray placed there by Alice Whipplegate – who was also short-handing the notes of the meeting. I wondered if Blaskin would ever get access to the obviously extensive archives.
‘It’s a third of a mile off the main road,’ Moggerhanger said, ‘but as a car turns up the lane, the warning flags’ll go up from the house. Don’t imagine they’ll be sleeping on the job. But you can see from the map that Snowdrop Wood comes to within two hundred yards, and another lane passes the far end of the trees. So use the cover. Car A will set Kenny and Jericho down at the back end of the wood at eight-thirty. After the car’s dropped them it will be driven around the area, but make sure to be on station at the lane junction with the main road by nine o’clock – when all hell will be let loose. Parkhurst will drive that car. Oh yes, he’ll do it, don’t worry.’
‘If I must,’ he said.
‘You’re not my son if you don’t want to be in on a bit of fun like this. Cottapilly will drive car B, with Pindarry and Toffeebottle. At one minute to nine they’ll shoot up the lane to Buckshot Farm, to make the full frontal assault. Do it quick. You’ll be supported by Kenny and Jericho, who by this time will have got through the wood. At four minutes to nine they’ll race the two hundred yards to the back of the house and force an entry. So it’s A at the back, and B at the front.
‘Car C, with George driving, will wait on the main road two hundred yards north of the lane-opening while the argy-bargy’s going on. He’ll be facing south, and will stay on station to ram any pursuit car coming from Buckshot Farm after the aforementioned argy-bargy’s finished and car B with the loot has shot out of the lane, though I hope the occupants of that car won’t neglect to immobilise any motor transport at the farm that could possibly be used against them. When the Green Toe lads have got their quietus, load the stuff up as quick as you can. Don’t start checking to see what you’ve got. It ain’t a clipboard operation. Just work like navvies and get it inside the transport. Car D, Mr Cullen driving, will wait one mile north of the village. Car B will transfer the load to him. Michael will have the yellow Roller, and be in position by five minutes past nine, and facing north. As soon as he’s loaded, he’ll set off for Peppercorn Cottage, which only he knows how to find in the dark.’
‘What do I do when I get there?’ I was thankful not to be in on the actual assault. I wasn’t afraid of rough stuff, but firearms might well be involved, and I neither wanted to kill nor be killed. They were only there for a threat, said Jericho Jim – but if the other side had similar threateners, anything could happen.
‘Mr Blemish will help you to unload. All you have to do then is wait, rats notwithstanding.’
Kenny Dukes shivered. ‘Better you than me.’
‘As for the rest of the cars’ – Moggerhanger spoke as slowly as his excitement would allow – ‘after car B has transferred its load to Michael it’ll follow car D for a while. Car C (the Range Rover) will deal with any pursuers by running them off the road, if need be. Car B will be the Jaguar, and will go south if any pursuers from Buckshot Farm decide to follow. If you’re not pursued, keep after A and D to make sure D is not molested. When D is finally safe, A goes north to Spleen Manor, C comes back here, and B goes to Breezeblock Villa at Back Enderby. And no quiet booze-ups in a village pub, neither coming nor going. Any questions?’
I think our heads were spinning. Mine was.
‘I’ll go through it six times more, just to make sure you can recite it backwards before midnight.’
I put my hand up. It was like being at college. ‘What about air cover?’ I was going to ask, but didn’t, because Moggerhanger had no use for levity, unless it was his. ‘Air cover?’ he’d say at best. ‘I’ll lay on a fleet of choppers from Luton, if you like.’
‘When do we set off?’
‘I’m glad you asked that.’ He was sarcastic. ‘You’ve got three days, and all leave’s cancelled from this point in time. I’d prefer dry weather. No thunderstorms, fog, freak hail, or lengthy periods of rain which will turn the countryside into either a skating rink or a quagmire. I’ve seen too many things go wrong in bad weather. So I’ll keep tabs on the met office and wait till they can give me a halfway decent forecast, though I can’t leave it too long because I want nights of maximum darkness. We don’t want even a sliver of moon in the offing. On the day, though, you’ll set out from twelve hundred hours. As there are four cars, you’ll leave at half hour intervals – as long as you’re on station at the appointed time. All vehicles will be in perfect condition, and topped up with petrol, by which I mean it’ll be at least a month since they were serviced. I say that advisedly, because in my experience cars in this country are more likely to break down immediately after they come back from the garage – if they’re going to do so at all. It’s disgraceful the way long-haired overweight ignorant bloody lads are allowed to crawl over a car with a Taiwan tranny belting out monkey-yammer while they tinker about with a spanner and grease-gun. No wonder they leave half the things undone, and do everything they shouldn’t. They can’t even write their own names. Now, where was I?’
It was hard to say.
‘Mrs Whipplegate will give you a hundred pounds each, so that you can cope with every eventuality. But I warn you: no drinking. I want ice-cold brains, or none at all. Remember that this is a big job. The Green Toe Gang are sitting pretty at their secret warehouse. Make it so they don’t know what hit ’em. Our information says there’s no more than two guarding the place. They’ll be easy meat for five of you. It’s vital that we get everything, except some of the poppy seed for Jack’s lads to find next day, as well as a few tenners with the ink still wet. If the job fails, you’re done for – every one of you. But there’s no reason why it should. Some of us have been working on the details for a long time. I need hardly say that there’ll be healthy bonuses thrown around afterwards. Now, let’s do a bit more studying. We’ll carry on till midnight, and go through it again between ten and eleven tomorrow morning. This is an all or nothing operation.’
I thought he was going to add that the fate of European civilisation depended on it. I wouldn’t have been surprised. The only reason he didn’t was because he didn’t think of it. My guts were bubbling. I was in it up to the top of my head, and there was no way I could back out.
Twenty-Four
At
half past twelve on The Day I checked the car out of a garage in Kentish Town and made my way to the North Circular through a maelstrom of traffic. I intended joining the M1, which would take me into Northamptonshire, so why did I go right, and hook up with the A10 for Cambridge? The fact that I couldn’t say gave me hope for the future, in that at least there would never be a dull moment in my life, or in anybody else’s I happened to be close to.
But I was truly mystified at the time because, having been programmed to do one thing, a force to which I could give no name pressured me gently but decisively into doing another. As in every case when I do a crazy thing, I began to see reason in the move. If I went straight to the area of Buckshot Farm I would be so tempted to reconnoitre the place that my description would be taken fifty times before the others arrived and we moved in. Moggerhanger had cautioned us against going to within twenty miles of the locality before Zero Hour, but I would park by Snowdrop Wood and, with map case and field glasses, Wellingtons, combat cap, and air pistol cocked, sneak through to have a look at the nut we were to crack. I would be spotted of course by someone shaking carpets out of a back window. I would then return to the lane to find a couple of youths joy-riding away in the Roller. Those in the house would in the meantime clear everything out, and leave before we could get our hands on the dope and cash. So it was safer for all concerned if I did a very wide approach ride to get there, and what better place to call at on the way than Upper Mayhem?
Everything, on paper, was mapped out, yet I felt as if I was taking a step into the unknown. My brain encompassed Moggerhanger’s arrangements with no trouble, but my own private scheme had to dovetail into them, and for the moment I didn’t see how it could. I didn’t take easily to such fine-point organisation, because no room was left for ingenuity, flair, improvisation – those qualities (if such they are) of British genius that put them for five hundred years under the heel of the Roman gestapo. All the same, the programme seemed tight – and unnecessarily complicated – and I sniffed weaknesses everywhere, though knew I had to abide by the plan for safety’s sake. Only if something went wrong would I come into my own.
It was hot, and the sky was clear, but I resisted the temptation to stop for a few pints of lager, or even to listen to Moggerhanger’s Favourites as I rolled along. On paper everything looked fine, but what if one of the cars got banged into by a juggernaut on the motorway and burst into flames? Or had a puncture and found the spare tyre flat? I supposed we could afford to lose one car, as long as it didn’t contain either of the assault parties. Again, what if it was the annual general meeting of the Green Toe Gang, and a score of the worst villains were present that evening? Everything had been taken care of, Moggerhanger said. Even Jack Lanthorn was on our side, the biggest bent copper in the business. What more do you want? I asked, as I pulled up outside Upper Mayhem railway station.
Bill Straw was asleep on a swinging seat in the garden, the Daily Mirror spread over his face to preserve his complexion. Dismal lay by his side, head between paws, and neither looked up as I opened the squeaky gate. Maria, her belly certainly higher than last time, came out with a tray, ice chinking in a tall glass, and a dogbowl full of water. The tinkling ice woke Bill, and a smile came onto his face before he let the newspaper slip off. ‘Oh my darling! Another lovely drink. Oh – hello, Michael, what brings you here?’
Maria kissed him, and he held her close. They snogged awhile, the most tender-loving couple in the world. ‘Ain’t she wonderful? She’s perfect, Michael, perfect. Aren’t you, my pregnant beauty? You’re perfect, aren’t you? Aren’t you, my duck?’
‘You wonderful too.’ She set the waterbowl before Dismal.
I kicked him, but not too hard. ‘Don’t you know me, at least?’
He yawned, rolled a lolling tongue back into his mouth, then stood on two legs and rubbed his cold nose against my cheek. Formality satisfied, he gobbled up the water in two licks.
‘Your mother came last night, and went this morning. Said she was going to Holland to see Bridgitte. You can never tell, though, with a woman like that. She took a bit of a shine to Maria, but I put my foot down. I had to, Michael. I looked her in the eye and said: “She’s mine. Leave her alone.” And she backed off. I just had to be firm.’
‘Get me a drink, Maria,’ I said, ‘for God’s sake. Only, no alcohol.’
Bill stood up. ‘She’s a treasure, Michael. We’re as much in love as two school kids. I never believed it could happen. I can’t tell you. I’m glad you’ve come, though. We’re out of money. Can you spare a bob or two? The local shops are complaining, so I’d like to fob ’em off with a bit.’
I gave him fifty quid out of my hundred. ‘Let that last a few days.’
He put on his all-knowing bottom-dog Nottingham look. ‘You’re out on a job, are you?’
I nodded. ‘It’s D Day. Twenty-one hundred hours. Tonight.’
He drained his glass. Maria came out with mine. ‘Bring some more, sweetheart, will you?’
‘You’re a bone-idle bastard,’ I said. ‘Why don’t you lift a finger and do it yourself?’
He laughed. ‘Do you know, Michael, I’d be glad to, but she wouldn’t let me. She’d be offended. Wouldn’t you, duck? I tried taking my carpet slippers off once, and she sulked half a day. It broke my heart to see that disappointed look on her face. Well, she does love me, and I love her. Besides, you don’t know how long it will last.’
Part of the fence had been painted. ‘Who did that?’
‘Well, I mean, she insisted. Said she didn’t have enough to do. You know me, Michael. I’m not a cruel man. I didn’t want to stop her.’
I envied him. ‘You’ve fallen on your feet.’
‘I know. But think of all the times I’ve split my head open.’
‘I don’t see many scars.’
‘That’s because I’ve got a good head of hair. Nine o’clock tonight, is it? The Green Toe Gang get their comeuppance?’
I had no secrets from Bill, nor him any from me. ‘We’re after their warehouse.’
He whistled. ‘Two million?’
‘Knocking three, with the dope. Maybe four.’
‘Better you than me. But if you want any help, put me in the boot of the Roller. I’d do anything for a ride in Claud’s best motor. He must be pretty sure of pulling it off if he’s let you have that. It’s the best kept car in England.’
‘I can manage. There’ll be eight of us altogether.’
‘Nine would be better.’
‘I’ll take Dismal.’ I tapped the brute with my boot. A party of bird watchers walked along the bridge, each with binoculars and a recognition manual. ‘Let’s go inside where we can talk.’
‘It’s scorching today,’ he said. ‘I do nothing but drink. Maybe Maria will make us a pot of her strong tea. I’ve trained her to mash a pot of jollop in true Nottinghamshire style. I’m very proud of that, Michael. I’ve not been completely idle since coming here.’
We sat in the cool living room. Even Bridgitte had never made the place gleam like this. ‘How does she find the time to do so much?’
‘She’s at it from morning till night.’
‘She’s pregnant. She should be taking care of herself.’
He lay back on the settee. ‘I know. I try to tell her. But she won’t listen. And do you know, Michael’ – he got up and leaned forward – ‘she’s a little bogger. She’s at me all night. Bloody marvellous. I feel like the Caliph of Baghdad. It’s as if there was three of her. I keep telling her she ought to stop because she’s having a young ’un, but it don’t mek a blind bit o’ difference. It’s just one more thing I’ve got to thank you for.’
‘I’ll regret it to my dying day.’
He got up and chucked me under the chin. ‘I’m going to marry her, though. We’re all set for it. I don’t do owt by halves. I’ll just ask her to bring us some tea, and cheese sandwiches.’ Dismal must have heard, for he came in and lay by the empty firegrate. I stroked his head. He would keep me compa
ny while I was driving through the night to Peppercorn Cottage. He might earn his keep by devouring a few rats, and maybe holding Percy Blemish at bay if he got sufficiently deranged to come at me with a knife.
‘The fact is,’ Bill said, ‘that eight of you might very well be enough. On the other hand, if there’s Tu-tu to reckon with, it might very well not be.’
‘Who?’
‘Tu-tu.’
‘Who the hell’s she?’
‘It’s he. He used to be known as Bantam, because he’s under five foot and very thin, but he took against the name all of a sudden and said he didn’t want to be called Bantam anymore. Well, because he was a crack shot with a two-two rifle, we called him Two-two. He didn’t mind that. I never knew his real name. I’ll tell you one thing, though, there might be eight of you, but if Two-two spotted you he’d pick you all off if you tried to rush him from a hundred yards.’
‘Not the way we’re doing it.’
‘Oh, it’s two at the back and two at the front, is it? But you’ll need to send two down the chimney as well if Two-two’s anywhere near.’
‘Are you sure he’s in their gang?’
‘Was, last time I heard. Where the hell’s Maria got to with that grub?’
‘Take your sweat.’ I had a couple of shotguns and a two-two rifle hidden in the house, with plenty of ammunition, from the days when I went shooting for the pot. ‘I can’t take you with me.’
He shook his head, a glint of envy, his teeth clenched. ‘With your rifle I could cover you. Anybody showed his snout at an upstairs window and I’d have him in half a second, right between the eyes. I got a rabbit and two pigeons with it the other day.’
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