Stealth

by Stan Mason

  ‘This is against my better judgement,’ he muttered glumly.

  ‘I don’t care what it’s against,’ she said in a commanding fashion. ‘You’re coming with me. Get in!’

  Without hesitation, he climbed into the car and she drove off. As she drove along the main road, she turned towards him sternly.

  ‘Don’t tell me you’ve started to feel regret,’ she uttered firmly. ‘I put my faith in you, you know.’

  ‘It’s the house that’s holding me back. I lived there with Liz for six years. Now she’s gone, it’s not having a good effect on me with her not being there. I’m struggling.’

  ‘Have you arranged to put the house on the market? Quite obviously, staying there won’t do you any good in the long term.’

  ‘I’ve already contacted an estate agent. He’s coming over to view the place tomorrow. I really need to get rid of it.’

  She glanced at him before turning her attention back to the road. ‘Tell me one thing,’ she advanced. ‘It may be a foolish question but are you still in love with her?’

  ‘We lived together for six years, Paula,’ he replied frankly. ‘You get to know a person really well in that time. I thought I loved her but after what she did I now have second thoughts. It may had been a case of infatuation because she was always a hard act to follow. It’s difficult to get a person close to you out of your mind whatever they’ve done.’

  ‘Whatever they’ve done?’

  ‘There are sometimes extenuating circumstances.’

  ‘You didn’t answer my question. Do you still lover her?’

  He hesitated to think the question through. ‘Not any more I don’t.’

  ‘I understand the pain you’re going through but she’s gone, Neil. You have to find some way of getting her out of your system.’

  ‘I know, I know! They say time’s a great healer. I mean it’s only been a short time since it happened.’

  ‘Have I been any help?’

  ‘You’ve taken a lot of weight off my shoulders. I owe you a great deal. I would have been in a terrible mess if you hadn’t turned up.’

  ‘As I told you,’ she said, without taking her eyes off the road. ‘I’m your Guardian Angel.’

  ‘That you certainly are,’ he admitted, having changed his mind about her entirely.

  She concentrated on her driving as Waverley placed his hand on hers on the steering wheel and smiled. The relationship, if that’s what it might be called, was gradually moving in her direction and she felt very pleased about it.

  When they entered the rehearsal room, they sat in chairs beside each other glancing at the lines on their scripts. The rest of the cast were walking up and down on the stage with their scripts in their hands mumbling their to themselves.

  ‘They may want you to read a part today. If it helps, I’ll read the other parts with you,’ she told him.

  ‘It’s okay. If they do the same scene as last week, I think I know my lines.’ He glanced at his wristwatch. ‘When are we going to start?’

  ‘The Director’s over there talking to the Producer. You’ve done this musical before, haven’t you?’

  ‘About eight years ago,’ he responded, ‘but I only had a minor part. I’ve moved very little in the hierarchy since then so I can never see myself as a star.’

  ‘I love watching you in any part,’ she cooed enthusiastically. ‘I think you’re brilliant.’

  The Director stopped talking to the Producer and clapped his hands together to gain silence and get everyone’s attention.

  ‘Let’s begin with the scene with Claudette and Simon. Paula... Neil... you can take the parts. You’re in a corridor... both of you. The sound of the revolution is going on backstage. Simon’s denying the fact that he loves you and you’re making a last-gasp stand to hold on to him. Make it good. Make it dramatic. Away you go!’

  Waverley and Paula faced each other in front of the rest of the cast. Paula adopted a pose and began acting seriously.

  ‘You’re in denial, Simon.’ she spat. ‘There’s no doubt in my mind about that!’

  ‘Don’t talk to me about denial,’ responded Waverley sharply acting as Simon.’ I simply don’t love you.’

  ‘You don’t mean that!’

  ‘I just said it, didn’t I? Which part of it didn’t you understand?’

  ‘Why are you saying this? I look into your eyes and see only love for me.’

  Waverley turned away from her. ‘You’re mistaken !’ he growled. ‘I have work to do to make certain the revolution’s successful. I’m rewriting history today. It will be recorded and read by others for a thousand years.’

  ‘Let me join you in your mission!’ she pleaded.

  ‘I can’t do that but it’s only fair that you know the truth about me. I’m a cheat, a liar, a thief... someone who doesn’t deserve to be loved by someone as beautiful as you. But, with the revolution, the past can be erased and I can start a new life again. Am I the kind of person you would want to associate with... let alone be in love with?’

  ‘But you do love me, don’t you?’

  ‘Of course I love you!’

  ‘That’s all I want to know.’

  ‘Okay,’ cut in the Director. ‘Now the long kiss. Ten seconds. Ten full seconds.’

  Paula put her arms around Waverley and kissed him fully on the lips. The kiss went on and on much longer than ten seconds which eventually drew loud approval from the rest of the cast.

  ‘That’s great!’ shouted the Director as they continued to kiss. ‘You can stop now. ‘However his intervention made no difference as they took no notice and the members of the cast starting to laugh at them. ‘I said ten seconds... not a lifetime of love. What is it with you two?’

  They broke away and Waverley turned looking somewhat ashamed. He hadn’t intended to kiss Paula for more than a few seconds in the acting part yet they had continued for so much longer.

  ‘This is the first time we’ve done this scene,’ commented Paula still holding Waverley’s arm.

  ‘In future ten seconds means ten seconds!’ stated the Director firmly. ‘We don’t want the audience to get bored. Anyhow... well done, both of you. Right. Now I’d like to do the dance routine. Thank you Paula... Neil. Take a break.‘

  They wandered off to a remote part of the rehearsal room and sat down smiling at each other. Waverley glanced at the chair beside him noticing the newspaper that had been left there. It was almost a week old... the one which boasted the headline relating to the twenty thousand staff to be made redundant by the Prescot Bank. As far as the banker was concerned, it was clearly an omen. Destiny was calling out to him. Of all the newspapers that might have been left on the chair it had to be that particular one. It was too much of a coincidence to be ignored. In a flash, he began to look at the bigger picture relating to his future. He had spent a number of years studying for the banking examinations and had achieve promotion as an Assistant Manager in a large London branch of the bank, but now that his wife had left him, did he really want to continue his career in the same vein? Her sudden departure seemed to have cut his legs off from under him. There was no zest or determination to climb the promotional ladder of the bank any more. In fact there was the possibility that he might be made redundant in the near future when the cull was made which was a most discomforting thought. Suddenly, the plan put forward by Paula came into his mind and he recognised that it started to make sense. If it was good enough, he could dispense all thoughts of becoming unemployed and live the life she had outlined for him. In truth, he disliked the idea intensely but there was no harm in investigating it further. He knew that if he was to undertake the adventure, it would be like going into a parallel universe yet something inside him told him to press on.

  He turned to Paula with a serious expression on his face. ‘I’m quite pr
epared to listen to the rest of your plan,’ he advanced tentatively, almost regretting having uttered the words as they came out of his mouth. ‘I can’t promise to become involved, but I’d still like to hear it.’

  She stared at him in surprise for his previous response had been so negative. ‘Do you really mean that?’ she enquired with an element of hope in her voice.

  ‘I doubt whether I’ll be interested but it does intrigue me. Let’s say that I regard it as the final scene in a mystery play and I want to know whodunit. I want to know how a robbery of a bank could be made foolproof.’

  She hesitated before revealing another part of the plan. ‘In five days you could get away with three-quarters of a million pounds or even more,’ she revealed. ‘A little taken each day.’

  The comment took his breath away. ‘Go on!’ he gasped. Five days seemed such a short time to steal that amount of money on a daily basis.

  ‘That’s a hundred-and-fifty thousand pounds a day,’ she went on. ‘After that, you’ll be free to do as you wish.’

  ‘Go on,’ he urged although he disbelieved her. She had to be barking mad. Five days was so little in terms of time to steal all that money. ‘Tell me why you think it’s foolproof.’

  ‘I want you to forget for a moment that you’re the Assistant Manager of the bank. Keep an open mind.’ He reflected on what she had already told him. Three-quarters of a million pounds in five days. It was an audacious plan to say the least. ’I’ve worked it out to the finest detail,‘ she went on dryly.

  ’You obviously haven’t heard of Murphy’s Law,’ he butted in. ‘If anything can go wrong, it will go wrong!’

  She ignored the comment and carried on regardless. ’I’ll bring the guillotine to your place tomorrow.’

  ’Guillotine!’ The word stopped him in his tracks and he seemed perplexed.

  ’We’ve got to cut up newspapers to the same size as the banknotes,’ she explained. ‘It would take too long to do it with a pair of ordinary scissors. You’ll need to bring home bundles of plastic banknote wrappers to put them in.’

  In the rehearsal room, the musical scene got under way drowning out their conversation This forced them to leave the building and make their way to Paula’s car. They sat inside and faced each other rather too close for Waverley’s comfort.

  ’That kiss,’ reflected Paula with a slight smile on her face. ’Would you like to try it again?’

  ‘Not at the moment,’ he replied coldly, ‘but thanks for asking.’

  ‘I see, Simon,’ she retorted using the name of the part that he had played. ‘You need an audience to do it.’

  ‘It’s Neil, Paula,’ he chided. ‘We’re in the real world now.’ She stuck her tongue out at him rudely. ‘Let’s take a rain-check on that kiss.’

  Her face puckered up in ostensible pain as she drove off. Any romance between them was still some distance away!

  ***

  The decision on whether or not to get a different getaway vehicle on which they could rely was hardly difficult. With a show of hands, they agreed unanimously and wasted no time in taking their current car to the local scrap yard. Without delay, Brad took Wilson to the place where the white van was parked to show him what he had in mind.

  ‘This is a good runner,’ he told the leader. ‘I’ve seen it in action. The owner only uses it on Thursdays and Fridays, so the robbery with have to be on a Monday, Tuesday or Wednesday.’

  ‘That’s no problem,’ returned Wilson easily. ‘Any problem in stealing it?’

  ‘Are you kidding!’ snapped the other man as though insulted by the innuendo. ‘I stole my first car at the age of fifteen!’

  They now had a getaway vehicle that was fit for purpose and, on the day chosen to rob the bank, Ginger drove it to the appropriate bank in the centre of London, parking it on the opposite side of the road and switching on its flashing warning light. It was almost an action replay of the earlier robbery and Wilson stared at the others with his heart beating like a drum in his chest. He was supposed to have undertaken a thorough research of the bank on all the important factors required to ensure that it was a successful bank robbery but he had failed to do so. The problem was that, after so many years of housebreaking and burglary, he had become lazy, disliking intensely having to undertake any kind of analysis on the bank even if it was essential in order to safeguard himself and the rest of the gang. The others merely followed him obediently like lambs to the slaughter.

  ‘Are we all ready?’ he asked, with an uncertain tone in his voice. ‘We’ve all got guns...’

  ‘I haven’t got one!’ complained Ginger bitterly.

  ‘You’re the getaway driver, you nit!’ spat Brad curtly. ‘You don’t need one!’

  ‘Don’t forget,‘ continued Wilson ignoring the interruption. ‘We need this to be a professional bank robbery. You all know what you have to do!’

  ‘Well I know my part in it,’ uttered Sam, waving his shotgun wildly inside the van which caused everyone to duck and weave away.

  ‘There’s something I ought to tell you before we start, Fred,’ admitted Hunter hesitantly.

  ‘What’s that?’ asked the leader, impatiently waiting to start the raid.

  ‘Maybe it’s best that I don’t tell you,’ utter the other man, after a moment of reflection.

  Brad blew out his cheeks with fury. ‘Well now you’ve said you’ve got something to tell us, you’d better explain!’ he exploded. ‘If you don’t, we’ll be here ‘til doomsday come and never rob this bank!’

  Hunter paused for a moment and then blurted out his secret. ‘I made a bomb just over two months ago.’

  ‘Oh hell!’ muttered Brad with concern. ‘Don’t say you’re going to use explosives to rob the bank!’

  ‘No... you don’t understand,’ responded Hunter passionately. ‘You see I made a mistake with the wiring. I connected the wrong coloured wiring and it went off.’

  Wilson scanned the other man’s face and shrugged his shoulders. ‘You look all right to me.’

  ‘Except that I’m mostly deaf. I’ve been lip-reading all you’ve been saying because I can’t hear you very well.’

  ‘What’s the point of telling us now?‘ demanded Brad believing the information to be pointless.

  ‘I just thought you’d like to know, that‘s all,’ Hunter told him bluntly.

  ‘Well now we know!’ returned Sam benignly.

  ‘What?’ asked Will unable to see the other man‘s lips.

  ‘Now we know!’ repeated Sam at the top of his voice.

  ‘Can we focus on what we intend to do,’ suggested Wilson sharply.

  ‘At least we’ve got a decent set of wheels this time,’ declared Brad firmly.

  ‘And not before time!’ commented Ginger smartly.

  ‘Okay,’ commanded the leader firmly. ‘Let’s go before we all die of boredom!’

  Ginger started the car up again and everyone began to shout at him.

  ‘Hold your horses!’ yelled Sam. ‘We’re already opposite the bank. Leave the van where it is!’

  The vehicle jerked forwards and backwards as Ginger changed gears unnecessarily and then it moved another an yard forward before jerking to a halt. The gang put on their ski-masks, took as firm hold on their guns, before racing across the road to the bank. Once inside, Wilson fired a shot into the ceiling and the customers inside began to scream and panic. He shouted to them at the top of his voice while Sam climbed the partition between the main banking hall and the cashiers.

  ‘Now listen up!’ yelled the leader to everyone in the banking hall. ‘Listen up!’ Do exactly what I say and no one’ll get hurt! Everyone get down on the floor... face down! And no talking! Everyone down now!’

  The customers obeyed although some women began to sob noisily. Brad went to the cashiers while Sam so
ught out the manager. Will Hunter hung around by the door acting as the watchman.

  ‘Fill this bag with money and be quick about it!’ ordered Brad, waving his pistol at the cashiers.

  The man stared back at him, his eyes scanning Brad’s face. ‘It’s your lot again. I recognise the ski-masks. Trying your luck for the second time?’

  The bank robber glared at him fiercely. ‘You keep it shut! Do you hear? Keep it shut!’

  The cashier shrugged his shoulders. ‘I think you ought to know the score.’

  ‘What score?’ snapped Brad savagely.

  ‘The last time you came in, you were late. You missed all the money because all the main customers came in earlier.’ related the cashier fearlessly.

  ‘So? What’s that got to do with the price of fish?’ snarled the robber.

  ‘This time you’ve come in too early. The money doesn’t arrive until four o’clock today for payouts arranged for tomorrow.’

  Brad stared at him angrily. ‘Are you trying to wind me up?’ he growled.

  ‘it’s absolutely true,’ came the response. ‘We’re a small bank so we don’t keep a lot of cash in stock. Last time you came too late... this time you’re too early.’

  The bank robber turned to Wilson with an angry expression on his face. ‘Did you hear that? The money’s not being delivered until four o’clock today.’

  ‘Well take all you can out of the tills,’ commanded Wilson curtly.

  Brad turned his attention to the cashier again, watching his actions like a hawk. ‘Oy!’ he snapped. ‘What about the other till?’

  ‘The cashier’s on holiday. She’s the only one with the key to that register,’ came the reply.

  The bank robber almost exploded with rage. ‘What kind of a bank is this?’ he ranted.

  There was no time for him to continue the conversation for at that moment the alarm went off... the klaxon horn reverberating both inside and outside the bank.

  ‘There it goes again, Fred!’ shouted Sam as some of the customers began to wail.