Stealth

by Stan Mason

  ‘Not at present but I have a few ideas. They all wore ski-masks and one of them called out ‘Fred’ to a man with a shot-gun.’

  ‘Fred!’ repeated Marley, with his brain ticking over like a computer. ’Fred Wilson! With a shotgun robbing a bank!’ He drummed his fingers on the table in thought. ’No... he must be out of his mind. The man’s way out of his league! Do you realise, Trenchard, that he’s moved up a gear from burglary to robbing banks?’

  ‘That’s what I thought,’ replied the junior. ‘It’s Fred Wilson, isn’t it? The infamous burglar we’ve put away more times than I’ve had hot dinners!’

  ‘He’s come to realise the pointlessness of petty crime and got a gang together to start robbing banks,’ continued Marley, shaking his head in disbelief. ‘And their first job brought them in just over two hundred quid. How pathetic they are!’ He felt like bursting into laughter but his antagonism against the criminal prevented him from doing so.

  ‘Very much amateurs,’ agreed Trenchard smartly.

  ‘Two hundred-and-twenty pounds and fifty pence!’ Marley overcame his resentment for a moment and burst into peals of laughter. ‘How many of them were in the robbery?’

  ‘Three, I understand plus a getaway driver outside. Passer’s by said they had trouble starting the car.’

  This comment caused Marley to burst into laughter again. ‘What an idiot. He’ll end up in jail faster than you can say ’go‘. I can’t wait to get my hands on him!’

  ‘I know how you feel about the man, You’ll put him behind bars again, I’m sure.‘

  ‘You can bet your bottom dollar on it.’ came the concise response. ‘Well that sort of money’s not going to get them to the South of France. Was anyone hurt in the robbery?’

  ‘No... no one was hurt. If the truth was known, they were probably using blank cartridges in the guns or they’re very bad shots..’

  Marley took a cigar from the box on his desk and lit it. ‘Don’t bet on it,’ he muttered slowly. ‘Do we have an address for Wilson? I’d like to pay him a visit. He’ll love to see me again, I don’t think.’ He reflected on the situation realising that each member of the gang ended up with the miserable sum of fifty pounds each. It amused him to think of the failure but he expected nothing more from the burglar-turned-bank robber who was destined to spend most of is life in prison.

  ‘I’ve looked it up already. There’s nothing on file,’ returned his assistant shrugging his shoulders. ‘He keeps moving. Goes from one address to another every few months. I’m not sure he ever pays the rent.’

  ‘Typical!’ declared Marley shaking his head slowly. ‘We’ll have to wait until he robs the next bank... hopefully in our district. How big is the Banco des whatsit?’

  ‘It’s only very tiny.’ came the reply.

  ‘Typical!’ repeated the senior policeman. ‘They went for a small bank and made a complete hash of it. He’s way out of his league!’

  At that moment, Frazier, another policeman at the station, entered the room.

  ‘Did you hear about the bank robbery?’ he asked point-blank. ‘Some idiots tried to rob a foreign bank in the City of London.’

  ‘We were just talking about it,’ related Marley tiredly. ‘Do you have any up-to-date information?’

  Frazier shrugged his shoulders aimlessly. ‘My friend at the Met says that he’s looked at the CCTV film from the outside camera. They were wearing ski-masks but they took them off before they got into their getaway vehicle so we had a good look at them. He says he recognised Fred Wilson and he’s checking up on the other two men as we speak. It’s only a matter of time before we put them behind bars.’

  ‘So it’s confirmed that it’s Fred Wilson, I thought so,’ uttered Marley, knowing that he had been right about the robbery all the time. ‘Bloody Fred Wilson! I’ve had him in my sights for years. Put him away myself a few times. He’s a damned menace to society!’

  ‘Here’s your chance to do the same again,’ cut in Trenchard. ‘He’s bound to try his luck again at another bank. You can put him away for good next time. I mean he’s a three-time loser. The Judge is going to send him down for a very long time.’

  ‘He’s more than that, Trenchard!’ came the rapid response. ‘He’s only been caught three times. Lord knows how many crimes he’s committed over the years!’ He looked at Frazier with a serious expression on his face. ‘You can tell the Met that I’m getting involved in this case.’

  ‘They won’t agree to that,’ rattled Frazier shaking his head. ‘It happened on their patch. The Banco des Agricole is in their territory.’

  ‘You forget one thing, my friend. Wilson’s in mine.’

  ‘I don’t think they’ll go for that even if you could prove it.’

  ‘I can only but try. I’d love to get my hands again on that swine. Do you know what he’s done? He’s given up burglary to become a bank robber. Who does he think he is... Billy the Kid... half of the Bonny and Clyde team? Stupid man! What a way to ruin his life. He knows he’ll be caught and end up in jail. I don’t understand the man. What’s the point of it all?’

  ‘Don’t get so cut up about it,’ suggested Frazier, concerned about the obsession of the other man. ‘He’ll get what he deserves. They’ve got him banged to rights by the CCTV camera..’

  ‘I can’t help it,’ relayed the senior police officer glumly. ‘That man gets under my skin. There’s something about him I truly hate. I’d give half my pension to put him away for good.’

  ‘Don’t worry, sir,’ intervened Trenchard, becoming concerned for his superior. ‘If he’s not picked up, he’ll try to rob another bank. He’ll make a mistake soon enough and you’ll get your wish.’

  ‘Not soon enough, Trenchard!’ muttered Marley solemnly. ‘Not soon enough!’ He screwed up his face in ostensible pain as he thought about the ex-convict and his blood ran faster through his veins. The man was his bete-noire. How he would like to get his hands on him again... better still in the performance of another bank robbery! However, despite his strong desire for justice, and the obsession he had to catch Fred Wilson in a criminal act, he was forced to bide his time. However patience always wore thinly with the senior police officer. He couldn’t wait to place his quarry behind bars again!

  ***

  Waverley returned home after lunching with Paula and he sat alone in his lounge thinking about the bizarre situation. The woman had seemed strange to him, talking in riddles, teasing him and playing him for a fool. She knew nothing about him except that he was an amateur actor, and that he worked in a bank yet she had insisted that they went to lunch together because she had something of interest to tell him. Despite the fact she had conjured up an element of intrigue, all that resulted was that she wanted to go to Spain on holiday with him. ‘Why should she want to do that?’ he asked himself. She knew he was grieving for his wife and that it was far too early for him to embark on any kind of a new relationship... not that he had the slightest intention of doing so, therefore he was unable to fathom out what was in her mind.

  When he thought about the situation carefully, she had wormed her way into his life, intruded into his thoughts, and was now starting to offer ideas which seemed to be remotely ridiculous. She clearly had some kind of a plan in her mind but she was unwilling to relate it to him in England. Why not, for Heaven’s sake? Why did they have to go abroad for her to explain it to him? She could tell him what was on her mind in the protection of his house where the two of them would be alone together. Why was she being so secretive? Did she think there were bugs in the house whereby other people could listen in? It was utterly ridiculous... totally nonsensical!

  He dismissed her from his mind, deciding that it was only reasonable for him to break off all contact with her. She was clearly an evil influence on him, It was possible for him to do this without causing her too much distress by not going to the rehear
sals of The Carlton Theatre Group any more. When she called at the house to take him there, he would refrain from answering the door. In that way she would soon realise that he wasn’t interested in seeing her again. She would quickly get the message and that would be the end of his association with her. He considered that he didn’t need a meddlesome woman intruding into his life uttering sentences of mystique to influence him and he certainly resented any idea of going abroad with her. In truth, she was a stranger to him so it was very easy for him to dismiss her from his mind.

  He picked up a magazine idly and turned the pages but his eyes failed to record any of the text. He was in limbo... a intermediary state usually of an unpleasant or unsatisfactory nature. As such, he was extremely vulnerable and he believed that Paula Stratton was taking advantage of it. He had to do something to ensure that he didn’t fall entirely under her spell at any time in the future.

  It was a couple of hours later, with his mind reeling from the many thoughts which seared through his brain, that he started to pull himself together. She had been right in one thing. Life went on and he couldn’t continue to concern himself with the fact that his wife had left him. She had gone off with another man, the lover with whom she had been having an affair, and she was now living in a different country thousands of miles away. Whatever his feelings towards her, he would never see her again... that much was certain! Therefore he had to put her out of his mind for good but what did he have to do to establish that line of thought and overcome the grief. He could bury himself in his work but that would mean he would have to come home to an empty house each night which would remind him constantly of her infidelity. It wasn’t the kind of life he wanted to lead in the future... to be reminded of her all the time. There had to be another way. Perhaps it was a good idea to get away for a while to clear his head and think rationally about the situation. If he did so, he might overcome the thoughts of her indiscretion. He could take a holiday in order to bring some order into his life, and then he thought about Paula’s suggestion to go abroad for a week. It would be a change of environment... a new place, far distant from anything that would remind him of Elizabeth. However, to go alone would be anathema. He would simply sit on the beach thinking about her all the time, reminiscing about all the holidays they had taken together which wouldn’t help him at all. The nostalgia would only bring him further unhappiness in a lonely environment where he knew no one and could talk to no one else. It soon became clear that he could take advantage of Paula’s offer and he began to recognise how her companionship would fill the gap. Although in earnest he resented the idea, he recognised that if he went to some sunny foreign clime she would talk to him, accompany him wherever they went, dine with him, and take his mind off his problems. In such a case, he considered that the tables would be turned. Instead of her chasing him, he would be using her to his advantage. He allowed the plan to unravel in his mind assuming that he would gain the benefit of her companionship if he decided to go with her. Clearly, on her part, he considered that she simply wanted him to pay for a vacation abroad. There was no doubt in his mind about that. Ultimately he decided that it was rational thinking to grant her wish and go with her abroad.

  As soon as he had come to that conclusion, he rang Paula and told her that he had conceded and would spend a week with her in Spain, insisting that he should pay for the trip for both of them. To his surprise, she challenged the idea stating that the deal was that she would go only if they went Dutch and each paid for their own holiday. He agreed readily and left it to her to make all the arrangements before settling down in his lounge, with elements of doubt in his mind, wondering whether he had done the right thing. However it was too late to go back on it now and, in some ways, he was annoyed at himself for being impulsive and so ready to agree.

  A few days later, she drove him to the airport and they waited together in the Departure lounge before boarding the aircraft.

  ‘I hope I’m doing the right thing,’ he said to her with an element of concern in his voice.

  She smiled at him and took his hand warmly. ‘You’ll soon be assured that you did. Seven days in the sun away from all the exigencies of the normal daily routines... both present and past... will do you the world of good.’.’

  ‘If you say so,’ he returned slowly, wondering whether to draw his hand away. The last thing he wanted to do was to lead the woman on to believe that any kind of a relationship existed between them.

  A message came over the communication system to advice them that their flight was ready and they boarded the aircraft which took off twenty minutes later heading towards the coast of Spain. They sat side by side on the aircraft and she took his hand gently, smiling at him as she did so. He could see without doubt that she had strong feelings towards him which were not reciprocated, however, there was little he could do thirty thousand feet high in the sky and he simply smiled back. She needed to understand that he was numb with regard to feelings towards any woman at this stage in his life. She simply happened to be there... nothing more.

  The aircraft landed in Spain and they took a taxi from the airport to their hotel . Once there, they were shown to the two separate rooms that she had booked and they unpacked their suitcases accordingly.

  ‘At least we’re in different rooms,’ he told himself. He wouldn’t have considered coming with her if she had insisted that it would be any other way. The problem was that he still wasn’t certain why he had come abroad with her. It had been a decision he hoped he wouldn’t regret but what was done, was done! There was no going back... not for another seven days anyway.

  They met in the reception area a short while later and went out to the terrace where there were a number of sun-loungers laying vacant by the side of the pool. He placed the camera case he had brought out with him between the two sun-loungers and they rested on them to enjoy the brilliant sunshine. After they had settled, she turned to him with a smile on her face.

  ‘Did you hear the story about the banker who woke up at three o’clock in the morning with water pouring from the ceiling in his bedroom?’ she began with an amused expression on her face. ‘He immediately rang for a plumber who came and fixed the leak in ten minutes before presenting him with a bill for two hundred pounds. “Two hundred pounds,’” gasped the banker in shock. “I’m a banker and I don’t make two hundred pounds for ten minutes work.” “Nor did I when I was a banker,” related the plumber.” She looked at his face directly, delighted that he had smiled. ‘Are you relaxed?’ she went on as they lay comfortably on the sun-loungers.

  ‘More than I expected,’ he told her.

  ‘One advantage,’ she went on, putting on a pair of sunglasses to shield her eyes from the sun, ‘is that it’s such a short journey to get here by plane. One minute you’re in England; two hours later you’re in Spain.’

  ‘You were right to get me away from the house,’ he admitted candidly. ‘I’ve been thinking about it. I’ll sell it when I return. I need to remove every memory of the past and it’s one of the main things holding me back.’

  ‘That’s a great idea,’ she added calmly. ‘You need to sell it and move somewhere else.’

  ‘If I stayed there, I would just mull over the past... go over all those old memories... and never stop thinking about her.’

  ‘As I said, it’s the best thing to do. Sell up and move on. I’m glad you’re seeing sense.’

  ‘It’s all down to you,’ he went on. ‘I appreciate your help.’

  ‘Personally, I think you’re very brave to come abroad like this with a woman you hardly know. We in the same hotel together in Spain yet you don’t really know me.’

  ‘It took me some time to make that decision,’ he told her. ‘But what the hell!’

  She nodded briefly. ‘Well now that we’re alone and far away from everyone else there’s something we need to talk about.’

  He looked at her shielding his eyes fr
om the sun. ‘You don’t have to concern yourself about paying for the holiday,‘ he told her, presuming that she was going to talk to him about the matter of the cost of the vacation. ‘I told you I would pay for it. I can afford it... especially now that I’ve cancelled the credit card I gave to my wife. I had hoped that it would have been stolen by a thief. It would have been cheaper in the long run because he wouldn’t have spent so much.’ He burst out laughing at his joke but she turned towards him seriously.

  ‘I can’t accept that,’ she countered sharply. ‘I said we’d go Dutch. You pay your share and I’ll pay mine. But that’s not what I meant.’

  ‘You know something’s been burning you up even when we were in London. What is it for Heaven’s sake? Tell me!’

  ‘Okay,’ she ventured. ‘But first I’m going to ask you a personal question and I want you to answer it truthfully. What do you actually do in your bank as the Assistant Manager?’

  ‘Is that the question you’ve been burning to ask me all this time?’ His voice showed an element of mockery. ‘Why do you ask?’

  ‘It’s very important that you tell me,’ she responded with a sense of urgency.

  He bridled at her insistence refusing to answer the question ‘I can’t see that it has anything to do with you,’ he reacted sharply. ‘I see no reason for you to ask.‘

  She lifted herself up on one arm to stare at him directly. ‘Humour me!’ she said slowly. ‘Please!’

  He shrugged his shoulders and thought about it for a while before conceding. There was nothing in his routine that would endanger the bank or cause it to suffer any problem. In any case, what could the woman do about it?

  ‘I’m the Assistant Manager of a large London bank,’ he admitted frankly. ‘I interview high-class customers such as businessmen, industrialists, directors and senior staff of major companies concerning banking matters. Part of my role is to handle the staff, and to make certain that the bank runs properly every day.’