by Stan Mason
Brad and Ginger entered the warehouse and they sat facing the other two men. In truth, they were all expert burglars but strictly amateurs in their new venture and they faced their task with an element of uncertainty which affected their confidence to some degree.
As they entered the warehouse, Wilson looked up and stopped polishing the shotgun to stare at them.
‘Now,’ he began with authority. ‘Let’s be certain that we’re all on the same page. I don’t want any slip-ups and I don’t want anyone to get shot, so be careful with your trigger fingers.’
‘You can’t be sure that someone won’t want to be a hero,’ returned Sam with concern. ‘We may have to shoot them.’
‘Let’s hope no one’s stupid enough to do that.’ retorted Wilson seriously. ‘All I’m saying is that we don’t want a murder charge hanging over us. If something goes wrong and you have to fire your gun, aim at the arms or the legs.’
‘I get it,’ returned Sam as though his comment mattered.
‘Okay,’ continued Wilson firmly. ‘Here’s what we‘re gonna do. We’re gonna rob the Banco des Agricole in the City of London.’
‘Banco des Agricole,’ repeated Ginger naively. ‘Sounds foreign. Is that a foreign bank?’
‘It’s French!’ came the terse reply.
‘How will they understand us if we talk in English?’ continued Ginger even more naively.
Wilson stared at him tiredly. ‘They all speak English, you fool! The staff are English, aren’t they?’ He paused and silence reigned. ‘Right!’ he went on. ‘I’ll take the lead. Sam’ll go to the cashiers to get the money from the tills. Ginger’ll go to the Manager’s office to get the safe keys. Brad’ll wait outside in the car ready for a fast getaway. No one speaks except me and Sam.’
‘If I can’t speak,’ uttered Ginger pitifully, ‘how do I ask the Manager for the keys?’
Wilson stared at him in disbelief. ‘Of course you can ask him for the keys!’ he chided angrily. ‘I meant no one else speaks to anyone else in the bank. Is that understood?’
‘Well there’s only me left,’ bleated Ginger. ‘But I s’pose so.’ I mean Brad’s in the car...
‘Shut up!’ interrupted Sam tiredly, He was annoyed that no one else was available to be the fourth man because Ginger was not only incompetent but he got on his nerves.
‘Okay,’ continued Wilson with an element of excitement in his voice, feeling like Henry the Fifth addressing his troops before the battle of Agincourt, except that he only had three people to speak to and they were practically illiterate. ‘This is our first bank job. Let’s make it professional! Let’s get to the money! And remember, no names!’
‘Are we all going to be anonymous?’ asked Ginger, to which no one bothered to respond.
‘What do we know about this bank?’ asked Brad with an element of concern.
‘What’s to know about a bank,’ returned Wilson sharply. ‘We’re just going to rob it... that’s all.’
Brad shrugged his shoulders aimlessly. He was probably more knowledgeable than any of the others and he felt that further information was required before they took action. However, the others were already on their way out so he didn’t have the option of finding out anything further.
The gang went outside and climbed into a battered old car to drive off through the East End to their destination. They arrived at the bank shortly, stopping some distance away to avoid suspicion.
‘You’re parking on double yellow lines,’ stated Sam with concern. ‘If a traffic warden catches you, you’ll get a parking ticket. Is this a stolen car?’
‘Of course not,’ returned Brad indignantly.
‘Then they’ll be able to track you down by the paperwork, related Sam sagely.
‘Look, I’m the driver,’ retorted Coverley curtly. ‘You leave the parking to me! When you come out of that bank, I’ll be outside waiting for you.’
‘Right,’ said Wilson urgently. ‘As long as you do. Now let’s get to it!’
They alighted from the car and ran across the road trying to hide the guns that they carried. As soon as they reached the entrance of the bank, they put on ski-masks to hide their faces, and waved their guns wildly, Once inside, Wilson imposed his authority on all the customers in attendance.
‘Okay,’ he shouted at the top of his voice. ‘This is a bank robbery! Everyone stay exactly where you are! We’re just here for the money,. We don’t want anyone to get hurt so what I want everyone to lay face down on the floor.’
The customers looked very scared and they obeyed the order diligently, albeit reluctantly, with the exception of one young woman who laid down on her back with her face looking upwards.
Her friend turned towards her solemnly. ‘Mandy!’ she exclaimed with concern. ‘This is a bank robbery not the office party!’
At this remark, Mandy turned over on to her stomach much to Wilson’s relief.
Sam moved across to the bank counter. ‘Hand over all the money!’ he shouted pointing his shotgun directly at the head of the leading cashier.
‘You do realise this is a bullet-proof screen,’ returned the man smoothly as though he was safe from any threat,
Same leapt on to the ridge of the counter on the customer’s side and leaned over the top of the screen aiming the shotgun and the leading cashier’s head.
‘Okay, smart-ass!’ he spat. ‘You’re not so brave now, are you? Get all the money together and hand it over!’
Ginger came forward to Wilson and touched him on the arm. ‘I’ve locked the door,’ he told him. ‘No one can get in or out.’
At that comment, some of the customers who heard him began to moan and cry.
Wilson starred at them coldly. ‘Quiet!’ he yelled irately. ‘Don’t speak to each other!’ He turned to Ginger. ‘Go on! The Manager’s office... Remember!’
‘Okay, Fred,’ returned the other man.
‘I said no names!’ reproached the leader angrily. ‘No names!’
‘Sorry, Fred.’ apologised Ginger weakly. He moved swiftly across the banking hall to examine the names on the doors in order to find the Manager.
Same began to become impatient. ‘Come on!’ he snapped at the first cashier. ‘Get all the money on the counter!’ He produced a bag from his pocket to carry the proceeds out of the bank.
‘All of it?’ enquired the cashier boldly, even though he was staring down the barrel of the shotgun. ‘Do you really want all the small change?’
‘All of it except for the pence.’ came the sharp reply. ‘Put it in this bag!’
‘You’re out of luck with this robbery,’ stated the cashier casually. ‘We deal with large companies here and they all use computers to pay their wages. We never carry much money in this bank.’
Sam stared at him bleakly on hearing the news. It appeared that all they could steal was the money in the cash registers. At that moment, Ginger returned from his search for the Manager.
‘He’s on holiday, Fred,‘ he said dumbly. ‘What should I do?’
‘I said no names!’ spat the leader even more irately. ‘Go and find the Assistant Manager! There must be one somewhere!’
‘Where do I find him?’ asked Ginger naively.
‘On the bloody ceiling!’ came the angry answer. ‘Why don’t you look for him?’
Ginger looked at him with a perplexed expression on his face. ‘On the ceiling?’
‘Go to the back office and look!’ ordered Wilson, almost at the end of his tether. He had second thoughts about using Ginger on the raid and now he realised that he had made a vital error.
Sam turned to his leader glumly. ‘They don’t carry much money here,’ he told him feebly. ‘All the money’s gone.’
‘What do you mean all the money’s gone?’ countered Wilson sharply.
‘All their customers use computer payments. The only money they have is in the tills for ordinary customers.’
‘Don’t listen to anything they tell you. He’s lying! They must have money in the safe!’
The cashier decided to intervene at that moment. ‘It’s true,’ he cut in. ‘We don’t carry any money here. It is all done by computer.’
Silence reigned in the bank as everyone stared at each other and the customers on the floor began to moan louder in protest. Suddenly, the alarm went off echoing throughout the banking hall. Sam panicked at the noise and fired his shotgun at the ceiling which caused some of the customers to start screaming. Then Wilson fired a few rounds at the ceiling in an attempt to quieten them but it failed to do so. Subsequently Ginger ran towards the door followed by Sam but it was locked and, in their hurry, they seemed unable to open it. Sam pushed Ginger out of the way and struggled with the lock for a few moments before managing to undo it.
The robbers raced out into the street, with Sam holding the bag of money, and they all pulled off their ski-masks to reveal their faces. They looked around for the car, which wasn’t parked outside the bank, to find it exactly where they had left it across the street. Streaking across the road, still holding their guns, they scrambled into the vehicle.
‘Okay!’ shouted Wilson at the top of his voice. ‘Get moving!’
Brad turned the key in the ignition but the engine failed to start. The robbers stared at him angrily as though it was his fault.
‘The plugs must be wet,’ explained Brad weakly. ‘We’ll have to wait a minute or two for them to dry out.’
‘We haven’t got a minute or two!’ expressed Sam in a panic. ‘The bloody bank’s alarm’s gone off and the police will be here like bees in a honeycomb swarming all over the place!’
‘For God’s sake, Brad! Do something for your part,!’ continued Wilson with alarm.
‘I’m doing the best I can! This car’s fifteen years old. It’s not a bloody Rolls Royce!’ He turned the ignition key twice more and then, to everyone’s relief, the engine started. Within seconds, with the tyres screeching like a lonesome banshee against the tarmac on the road, Brad managed to drive away from the scene well before the police arrived.
‘What a right shambles from start to finish!’ quoted Wilson miserably. turning his attention to Ginger. ‘Don’t you understand the words ‘no names‘?.
‘Sorry,’ bleated the robber weakly. ‘I never thought.’
‘You never do!’ chided Wilson bluntly before turning to Brad. ‘Next time you’d better make sure of two things. One is to be outside the bank when you say you’ll be there. The other is to make sure that this car works properly. I don’t want to be left outside a bank holding a bag full of money to be arrested because the car didn’t start!’ He looked towards Sam with interest. ‘How much did you get?’
‘Two hundred and twenty-two pounds and fifty pence,’ came the reply.
‘How much?’ came the stunned reply.
‘That’s all I got in the time we were in there,’ returned his colleague shamefully.
Wilson leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes in disbelief. ‘Two hundred and twenty-two pounds and fifty pence,’ he repeated. ‘What a right cock-up! We must be the worst bank robbers on the planet. I could have got more than that burgling a house and there would be much less risk.’
‘I couldn’t do anything,’ went on Sam. ‘My shotgun jammed.’
‘Just as well, cut in Brad quickly. ‘You know what Fred said about shooting people.’
‘What’s all this got to do with the price of fish?’ questioned Wilson enigmatically. ‘We were there to rob a bank for a sizeable amount of money... and what do we come away with... peanuts. Do you realise that we get just over fifty quid each for all our efforts. Bloody shameful!’
‘It was the first time we did anything like this,’ cut in Ginger, trying to soften the blow. ‘And we did get away with it, didn’t we?’
‘Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings,’ added the leader blandly. ‘We have to do better next time. Much better!’
‘Maybe we should pick an English bank to rob,’ suggested Ginger pleased with himself for making such a useful comment.
‘Do you think there should be a next time,’ muttered Sam with concern in his voice. ‘Maybe we should stick with what we know... thieving and burglary.’
‘Not me,’ retorted Wilson sharply. ‘I’m not going back to being a petty criminal any more. It’s the big time for me in the future. Okay... we didn’t do well. Let’s think of it as a rehearsal for the real thing. Next time, we’ll know exactly what we’re up against. We’ll make sure the bank has a lot of money. We’ll find out where the Manager hangs out. We’ll go when there are very few customers in the branch. And we’ll plan it like a military operation.’
‘I like the sound of that,’ added Ginger. ‘I’ve always wanted to be in the military with a uniform.’
Wilson stared at him sadly and shook his head. He knew that he had done the wrong thing in recruiting the man but he couldn’t do anything about it now. Ginger was a feeble-minded idiot who was more trouble than he was worth when carrying out a serious bank raid. He was indeed a loose cannon without any common sense.
The gang returned to the warehouse to share out the money. It was little enough for a major bank raid but there was nothing that they could do about such a poor result.
‘I reckon that staff at the Banco des Agricole are probably laughing their socks off at getting away with the robbery so lightly,’ uttered Wilson glumly as the robbers pocketed their loot. ‘You know what gets me... they’ll put in an insurance claim for fifty thousand pounds for what we did and, no doubt, they’ll get away with it. Life is so unfair!’
The four men settled down waiting to hear how they were to develop the military campaign for their next robbery. For Ginger, it was a mind-blowing operation far beyond his scope of intelligence. He would do whatever he was told to do and probably mess it up one way or another. Brad was there simply to drive the getaway car and make sure that the vehicle worked properly. Sam was in two minds whether to continue with robbing banks for a living, while Wilson still smarted from the fact that they only managed to gain just over two hundred pounds in the robbery. The same sentence kept ringing through his head...’Life is so unfair! Life is so unfair!
***
Paula and Waverley arrived at the rehearsal room twenty minutes late that evening. The words uttered by the Director were pretty much unprintable. It was the one thing he hated mostly... unpunctuality. If he told everyone that rehearsals would start at seven-thirty, the words were written in stone. Any latecomers would be named and shamed.
The actors and actresses were milling about when they got there, running through their lines, with the Director advising some of them with regard to a change in the script. When Waverley came into sight, he called him over with a serious expression on his face. The banker thought that he was in for a wigging as he had arrived late but quite the reverse happened.
‘Tony Graham’s been taken to hospital with appendicitis and he’s going to be out for a while,’ the Director informed him. ‘I want you to take his place as Armand this evening. It’s only one scene but it’s an important one. Are you ready to take it on?’
The banker hesitated for a few moments. He had never had a speaking part before and the offer came as quite a shock. The last thing he wanted to do was to stand on the stage in front of a live audience and remember all his lines? For him it seemed to be a tall order! If Graham didn’t come back, he might be forced to do so,
‘It’s the bedroom scene,’ continued the Director where Armand attacks Camille.’ He turned to Paula sharply. ‘Jess Williams can’t make it tonight either. You can be Camille. I saw you mouthing the words when she acted the scene last week. I think you could understudy the part well
.’ A smile crossed his lips as he noted her astonishment, ‘Nothing gets pass me, I assure you.? Right... Jeff Matthews will continue with his role as Roger. Would you do it for me?’ t
‘I’d be delighted,’ responded Paula happily, revelling in the fact that her talent had been noticed.
‘Start at ‘Go to Hell!’ ordered the Director urgently. ‘Remember it’s technically a bedroom scene. Romance... anger... love... hatred! You know what the French are like! Okay... ready when you are!!’
Waverley picked up a script and turned to the right page. ‘Go to Hell!’ shouted Paula at the top of her voice much to the delight of the Director who could see that she would groom well as a leading actress in future productions. ‘I’m not going anywhere with you! Get out of here! Go back to the gutter where you belong!’
The banker paused for a moment and turned to the Director. ‘It says here that I have to take her by the throat.’
‘Well do it then!’ came the response. ‘Strangle her!’
Waverley placed his hands around Paula’s neck as she screamed but he made certain that he applied as little pressure as possible before continuing. ‘If I can’t have you, no one will!’
There was a loud knocking offstage by Jeff Matthews acting as Roger and he entered the scene. ‘What’s happening here? I thought I heard a scream,’ he advanced with an element of concern in his voice.