by Simon Boxall
It was Djugashvilli who spoke. As usual he thanked everyone present, but praise was lavished on Gardstein; the curious thing was, as he congratulated Gardstein 'The Mastermind', on another well-executed plan; Svaars noticed that all the time he spoke, 'The Georgians' eyes were elsewhere. They were focused on the location of where Trassjohnsky was seated.
Crafty bastard Svaars thought, he couldn't quite conceal the smirk on his face from Milstein. Djugashvilli was toadying up to Gardstein, whilst at the same time giving 'The Eye' to his love interest. What a smooth operator, the more he watched; he couldn't quite help as to wonder what his real motives were. Needless to say Trassjohnsky's eye was not focused on the swarthy 'Georgian', she was staring at the dumb Milstein.
As a postscript Gardstein added that until the Dress Rehearsal, this would be the last time that they were all to gather under the same roof. Fritz Svaars could see that it was late now and that Gardstein wanted to wind up the meeting. Then Peter Piaktow spoke; he had been quiet all evening. He was voicing what Fritz Svaars assumed everybody else had been thinking. Piaktow wanted to know how and to whom the 'Booty' was going to be fenced and when they were going to get their share of the 'Swag'. Gardstein's reply was always the same, 'Just leave it to me!'
Yes, it was a well-executed operation. There were still some questions that had not been answered; but the thing was they had done this before, at one time or another, in most of the cities of Europe. They had done it in Budapest, they had done it in Vienna; they had done it in Berlin, Amsterdam, Copenhagen and Stockholm. To date they had not been caught, there had been some close shaves though, but, so far, they had always remained one step ahead of the law. Fritz Svaars thought to himself, why should it not be any different this time?
Chapter Eighteen
Inspector Reginald, Reggie, Twist of 'The Yard' sat at his desk reading the report of the previous days Hatton Gardens diamond robbery. Even for him, it made for interesting reading. He lit up a Woodbine and read Austin Riggs report:
D-Division Incident Report. PC Riggs:
At approximately 10:30 am, I heard a commotion in the direction of Jubilee Rd. Moving towards the fuss I could hear persons shouting, 'Fire'. Arriving at the scene I saw flames coming out of the Quaker hall. I established with persons at the scene, if anyone had called the fire brigade. They replied that the 'Brigade' had been called. By the time the fire brigade arrived, and this was approximately 10:45 am, the fire was spreading to adjacent buildings. Until further assistance arrived, I took the liberty of evacuating nearby houses. The blaze was, now, firmly taking hold of the Quaker hall. Embers from that building were now settling on the roofs of nearby houses. I assisted with the evacuation of the elderly and the young. We got everybody over onto the far side of the street. The fire brigade had got to grips with the situation and you could see that they were winning the 'Good Fight' against the accursed 'Red Ember'.
At approximately 10:58, I was out on the street supping tea with Ethel Firkin when I hears shoutin' coming from up the street, this time, from the direction of Hatton Gardens. A street urchin was running towards me waving his arms wildly. He was shouting in a high-pitched voice. At first, I had difficulty in making out exactly what it was that he was saying. But as the boy got closer I made out that he was shouting, 'Robbery, robbery!' I made it clear to the lad that, if this was some schoolboy prank, his backside would receive a tanning like it had never seen before! But the boy stood his ground and stated that he would gladly swear on the bible, that what he was telling me was 'Gods truth, and Gods truth alone! So help me God!' Replacing Mrs F's best china on the pavement, I proceeded blowing my whistle in the direction of Hatton Gardens.
I arrived there to find a scene of absolute pandemonium going on in the street. There were people cowering behind doorways and it seems that outside the jeweller's two men was wielding handguns. Further investigation established that they had taken hostage a young couple with a perambulator. Into this, and totally unaware of what was happening, motors, horse and carts, tradesmen and barrow boys were strayin'.
It all happened very quickly. The robbers and their hostages moved very quickly down the street. I, in hot pursuit, managed to follow them in the direction of Farringdon. The robbers had now seen that I was in pursuit and, ably assisted by PCs Weatherall and Pickford, they were shooting at us with deadly accuracy. They turned into Wellington Rd and I saw them kick-in, the front door of a house – Number 14 Wellington Rd - and then disappear inside. That was the last time I saw them. God only knows what has happened to the young couple and their baby.
Armed reinforcements arrived at 11.15 am from High Holborn. They secured the whole area, gardens and all. But when fourteen Wellington Rd was entered and searched, the only trace of robber and hostage I found was the perambulator and some empty shell cases. Eventually Detective Inspector Gardiner arrived on the scene and instructed an immediate door-to-door search of the area.
By the inspectors leave, I returned to Jubilee Rd to check on the fire. Once back at the scene of the fire, I found that the fire brigade had put out the fire. But my eyes met a panorama of utter devastation. The Quaker hall was no more and the houses on either side of it were gutted. The Salvation Army was dealing with the distressed. I returned to Hatton Gardens to see if I could be of any further assistance.
'Very bold, very bold', he thought. He picked up Detective Inspector Gardiner's report:
D-Division Incident Report. Inspector Gardiner:
At approximately 11.05, a report was received that an armed robbery was in progress down in Hatton Gardens. PCs Halford, Weatherall and Pickford went on ahead. I armed myself and followed a few moments later.
I arrived at 11.20 and was confronted by the aftermath of a robbery. Kauffman's jewellers had been robbed at approximately eleven o'clock. Jacob Kauffman was seated in the corner of the shop and the sales assistant was crying. Mrs Kauffman was consoling her husband. I went back out onto the street to take charge.
P.C. Riggs informed me that the villains, and their hostages, had made off in the direction of Wellington Rd. PCs Halford, Weatherall and Pickford in pursuit. It later transpired that they could not make any gains on the villains. This was because they were unarmed and the villains were armed. Not only that, the villains were firing at them and, according to PC Halford their accuracy was deadly. At 11.35, it was established that the robbers were taking refuge in number 14 Wellington Rd. By now further assistance had arrived. I took it on myself to order an immediate evacuation of nearby houses. I also ordered the house be surrounded.
Accompanied by a PC Tipton we made our way slowly down the street. By now the gunfire had subsided. Arriving at the front door of number 14 Wellington Rd, I proceeded to knock on the door. There was no reply. I knocked again, there was still no reply. I tried the door, it was locked. I instructed PC Tipton to use force to enter the building. We entered, it was dark inside and it took a moment to adjust our eyesight.
Then we heard some sounds coming from deeper within the dwelling. Making our way further down the hallway, and taking special precautions, lest we should be ambushed, Tipton and I located where the sounds were coming from. Under the stairs was a door which led down to a cellar. In the cellar we found an old couple, Jack and Maisie Roche. They had been tied, bound and gagged.
Making our way back upstairs we established that the house was secure. There was no trace of hostage or villain. The only evidence of entry was their pram had been left outside the kitchen door. There was no sign of a baby, but lying on the kitchen floor lay a childs doll. It was clear to me that both villain and hostage had absconded. Further inspection revealed spent shell cases in the front parlour. At about this time P.C. Riggs asked leave to return to the fire in Jubilee Rd. I said that he could, but he was to return to the station to make a full statement as soon as possible.
In the meantime I asked Mr and Mrs Roche exactly what had happened. They said at 11.15 they were having their elevenses; they were late having them that morning,
as Jack had spent the morning touching up the privy wall. They had just sat down, when the front door flew open and a man and woman pushing a pram made their way into the house. Jack challenged them, but by now two other men and a woman had also entered and these two men were carrying handguns. For a minute or two, the two men with the guns lent out the front door and alternately fired shots down the street. Maisie Roche noted that all five spoke in a foreign tongue. The two gunmen instructed the man and woman to tie them up and then they were bundled down into the cellar.
Once in the cellar, they saw no more of them. But they could still hear the sounds of scuffling feet upstairs. Eventually all went quiet, until the knock on the door and their eventual release ...
Reg Twist stubbed another cigarette out and then picked up the statement of Jacob Kauffman the jeweller:
At 10.45 I received my weekly delivery of uncut diamonds and rubies. I had, as always instructed the sales assistant as to what she should do with the stones. I looked around and a young couple had walked into the shop. Nothing unusual in that, as my sole purpose in life is to serve the general public.
At 10.57, the young couple, and they were foreigners because they spoke English with heavy accents, asked to see some diamonds. I laid out the trays on the counter. Two elegantly dressed gentlemen entered the shop and the sales assistant was dealing with them. They asked to look at some red rubies.
Now I remember exactly as to when the robbery began. I could hear the fire engine, so I looked up at the clock above the door. It was eleven o'clock exactly. As always, I was keeping an eye on Doris, so I was briefly distracted. By the time I realised what was happening, all four of them, including the woman, had pulled out firearms and were demanding that I hand over all of the precious stones. One of them had disappeared behind the counter, and had gone into the back of the shop then, he brought out my wife, she was being held at gunpoint. He stated that if I did not comply with their wishes – she would die – it was as simple as that.
I was left with no choice, but to hand everything over. When they had everything I watched them leave in disbelief. Then, to my amazement, on their way out, they grabbed a young couple, pushing one of those new fangled perambulators. I shall never forget the horror on the couples face. They, including the young family, made their way off down the street. Satisfied that they were gone, and not likely to return, I raised the alarm. I sent my boy to look for a 'Copper'.
Staring towards the wall Detective Inspector Reg Twist took stock of the situation. It had only taken a week for 'Quicksilver' Gardiner, the slowest detective in the police force, to forward these reports onto the Met. But that was really of no consequence, something else was praying on his mind. Then he remembered what it was. The basic gist had been a conversation with an English speaking delegate, at a conference on 'International Crime'. The purpose of which was to try and draw the Police Forces of Europe closer together. Sadly the main aim of the conference had not been possible and this was largely down to the petty jealousies of the French and Germans. But it had served another purpose, as an informal talking shop. It had been very useful to talk-shop and make contacts with officers serving in other Police forces. One such contact had been a Russian, now what was the damn fellow's name? Reggie leafed through his notebook, found what he was looking for and then made a phone call.
An hour later, there was a knock on his office door.
A young constable said, 'Sir, there's, huh hmm, two foreign gentleman 'ere to see you.'
'Show 'em, in,' Twist said. He stood up and addressed the two men, who had walked into his office,' Very good of you to come at such short notice,' he said.
'Very good of you to see us,' the older man said.
Getting to the point Twist said, 'Now ... do you remember our conversation at the 'International Crime' conference?'
'I do indeed, the one where you said that, it was easier now for Criminals to move around the continent than it ever had been before. Then if that was the case, sooner or later police forces would have to forge closer ties, share information and forget petty 'National' jealousies, in order to fight crime effectively. Wasn't that the one?'
'Yes, that was it; that was exactly the one? Now, just remind me, what was the example that you used? Twist asked.
'You mean the Latvian gang?'
'Yes! That's the one ...'
'My friend the 'Russian Empire' is very large. It stretches from the Baltic to the Pacific Ocean in the Far East. It is populated by many different speaking peoples. The 'Russian Empire' has, effortlessly, absorbed these countries. But, when you live in a country that is rich in cultural diversity; you find that the diversity extends into the criminal world. In the north the travelling nomad will steal furs from the estates of the absentee landlord, who lives all year round in distant St Petersburg. In the south, you have groups whom exact levies on shop owners and merchants. What you call, 'Protection' here. We might interpret these actions as criminal, but others, namely the perpetrators, see it as their birth right. They take just enough without getting too greedy. Do you see?'
'Yes I see. Do carry on!'
'That is one type of crime. You call it petty crime here. You catch the villain, he goes up before the magistrate, he is sentenced and the crime is duly solved. But there is another crime and this crime is driven, often, by a misguided loyalty and an erroneous sense of doing, what these perpetrators' see, is morally their right. Russia, as I have said before, is a large country; it is also governed by one man. By nature of the size and by the different peoples we dare not adopt the Westminster system of government. My people are not ready for it. But some of the peoples think that they are. The 'So called' intelligentsia look forward to the day when this power will all be theirs. Some of them are prepared to wait for that day when Russia will become a constitutional monarchy, just like you are, here in the United Kingdom. 'Others' want immediate change, and it is those 'Others' of which I will speak. Are you still with me?'
'Yes I am Mr Gerhardt. It's making perfect sense,' Twist said.
'Then I will let my young colleague, Georgii Radetzky speak.'
'When you have a system where one man is in charge, in Russia it is known as 'The Autocracy', invariably it is too much for one man to govern. You get corruption from the top downwards. It is not a nasty evil corruption, but there are some that would have it exactly like that; but, everyone, public officials, feel that they are entitled to their slice of the cake. Crime is also exactly like that. On the one level you get the members of the intelligentsia who plan 'unrest', and then on the other, you get the intellectual hot-head at university who makes a bomb and then throws it at the Tsar. He gets caught, his family strike a deal and a humane sentence of exile is served. In a few years the young revolutionary will be thoroughly repentant, and when he is released, he or she will be reintegrated back into society and the 'Former Revolutionary', will then get on with his life. His crime will eventually become the main topic of conversation at after dinner discussions. Then there is the poor down trodden peasant boy, relentlessly beaten by his master, who steals an apple, then gets caught and is hung by the district magistrate. He is hung, not because he dislikes the youth, but because he wants to be seen as a strong disciplinarian by his people and by his masters. But it is the first group Mr Twist that we shall focus on, I will let Monsieur Gerhardt continue with the story.'
Reg Twist sat at his desk and was fascinated by what these two Russians had to say. He listened in awe.
'Thank you Georgii. Now this brings me to the Latvian gang I mentioned earlier,' Gerhardt paused and delved into his briefcase. He pulled out a file and passed it across to Twist. He carried on, 'I believe that these six individuals are the ones that you might be looking for. But don't read it just yet. Let us return to the conversation we had at the conference. The example I used at the time was there was a Latvian gang of revolutionaries, O.K., these individuals played at being revolutionaries when it suited them, but they robbed, kidnapped and murdered at their leisur
e. They seldom stayed in one place for long and by the time the local police had become aware of the situation, they have already moved on. They my friend have already learned from and adapted to the shortcomings of nonexistent, international policing!' He looked Reg Twist purposefully in the eye, 'This group is led by a certain George Gardstein. From our sources we know that he has been in London for quite some time. He is usually accompanied by a Sara Trassjohnsky and a Nina Milstein. Milstein is personally known to me. There are three others; a Fritz Svaars, a Peter Piaktow, more about him later, and an occasional 'Georgian' associate that goes under several aliases, but is usually known as Joseph Djugashvilli. All of them are armed with Dreyse M1907 pistols, very deadly when in the wrong hands and all these men have killed, Gardsteins women are certainly capable of it. All of them profess firm opposition towards the 'Autocracy' and all of them, with the exception of Djugashvilli, have been tried in absentia. It would appear that the 'Georgian' comes along, from time to time, for the ride. With the exception of Djugashvilli, who is a member of the Bolshevik wing of the Socialist Revolutionaries; the others are members of the 'Sons and Daughters of Latvia. SADOL, as we tend to refer to them, seems to be the creation of Gardstein and Trassjohnsky, but it is also known to have links with other revolutionary groups.'
'Do you know why they are here in London? What is their purpose? Do you know,' the Scotland Yard detective said.