He greeted Roger with a shake of the hand and a puzzled expression on his face.
“I thought we weren’t meeting until tonight”, he inquired as he walked in front of Roger down the hall into the living room.
The flat was strewn with dirty clothes and the coffee table top could hardly be seen for the number of empty beer cans on it. The parts of the table you could see were covered in cigarette burns where the butts had landed on the table instead of the ashtray which was even now overflowing.
The whole flat had a mixture of smells ranging from stale smoke, sweaty clothes and cooking fat that must have been off.
Mick, who was in his late forties but looked ten years older, had met Roger when they served time in the category B prison just outside a small town in the north of England called Nelson.
Mick had been caught trying to break into the back of a grocery store with the intent of stealing Fags and booze. He had jumped out of his car in such a rush that he had dropped his keys. In the dark he was unable to find them.
He was convinced that he would find them after he had broken in. As he tried to jemmy the steel door the alarm sounded inside. Minutes later he found himself staring at the security mans dog which was ready to pounce should his owner allow him freedom from his lead. Shortly after this the police arrived to take him away. By the time he had served his sentence of fifteen months his car was smashed and sitting on bricks exactly where he had left it.
Roger moved some clothes from one of the two armchairs that faced the wall mounted gas fire, while Mick turned off the television.
“Do you want a drink”, asked Mick as he pulled the ring on another John Smith’s Smooth beer can.
“No thanks, I want you to ring Bert and Pete and tell them to get over here fast”, said Roger with a sense of urgency.
Roger had always been the main man of the outfit. He was trusted by the rest of the gang and so when he asked for something to be done it was done. Mick made his way through the maze of disorder he called his lounge and picked up the phone that hung on the wall in the hall.
All that Roger could here was Mick mumbling indistinguishable words. That was enough for him, as this conveyed that Mick had managed to get in touch with either Bert or Pete, as they both lived together.
Mick returned to the ‘lounge’ to inform Roger that both would be over within the hour. Now Roger would have a drink. Mick passed him a whisky neat which he knew was Roger’s favourite tipple.
The clock on the makeshift mantelpiece ticked loudly as both men sat in silence waiting for the other members of the gang to arrive. The time was coming up to two o’clock.
35 minutes later there came a knock on the door. Thinking this was Bert and Pete he went to the door. Even though he was confident as to whom the caller would be, he still went through the ritual of putting the chain on the door before opening it.
Two men dressed in suits stood in front of him. This scared the living daylights out of him as the only people who visited him in suits were invariably the law or someone he owed money to.
“We would like to talk to you about the bible”, one of the men began as he started to open the book he had in his hand.
“I’m not interested so bugger off”, was the irritated response from Mick.
No sooner had he slammed the door on the two Jehovah’s Witnesses and returned to the living room than another knock came at the door. He was certain this would be Bert and Pete this time and answering the second knock he opened the door. This time his guess was correct. They both stepped in and followed him through to where Roger was now standing with his back to the fire waiting for them.
Bert was the first to speak. He was in his late forties; about five foot eight with a beer belly that his tee-shirt had little chance of covering. He had spent time in the same prison as Roger and Mick serving a sentence of five years for armed robbery of a sub-post office. This was his second period at ‘Her Majesties Pleasure’. The first was a stretch for tax evasion which cost him two years of freedom.
“What’s this all about” he inquired. “I thought we were meeting tonight as planned”, he continued puzzlingly.
Pete did not need to speak as his question had already been asked. To describe this man as handsome would be an injustice to Quasimodo. He had very little hair which he constantly swept back over the bald patch at the crown of his head. The teeth that he had left, which were few, had rarely seen a tooth brush since he had been booted out of Her Majesties armed forces after only serving two years of a nine year contract with the army.
The reason for his dismissal was for breaking the nose of an officer with the butt of his rifle whilst on an exercise. He served three months in a military prison before being dishonourably discharged.
He met the other motley bunch when he was given eighteen months for causing an affray outside a nightclub and for carrying a dangerous weapon, namely a six inch bladed flick knife.
Pete was the youngest member of the group at twenty eight and was mainly used as lookout while the others were looting the inside of the chosen premises. The oldest member of the gang was Roger at fifty two.
Tonight the gang had planned to break into a new field of robbery to what they had been accustomed to. House burglaries were their usual occupation. Now they were going to try their hand at knocking off a warehouse on an industrial estate in the city. Roger’s ‘fence’ had told him that the warehouse would be home to boxes of wines and spirits that were waiting distribution. As he was told they would be there for a couple of weeks he felt this job could wait. The job he had in mind needed to be done sooner rather than later.
“Now we’re all here I want to put a proposition to you all”. I know of a house where the occupants are on holiday abroad, but only until Thursday or Friday. It is close to a house we have done more recently” and if I’m not mistaken will bring better rewards than the last one we did”, Roger suggested, knowing that if it was what he wanted they would agree.
“What about the warehouse we had planned for tonight”? Bert inquired.
“We can still carry out the warehouse job on Sunday night, but the owners of this house could possibly be back as early as Thursday”, replied Roger.
“Isn’t it a bit risky to go back to the same area so soon”, Pete put in.
“You know the saying, ‘Lightning doesn’t strike in the same place twice’, no one will be expecting it, so there’s less risk of us being caught”, said Roger reassuringly.
So they huddled around the spread out map and drew up their plan of action. They knew the layout of the house as it was of a similar design as the house they had broken into on that road a few days before.
The intention was to cut through the wire again and enter from the back. Pete would take on the role of watchman as before. This job would have to be done much quicker than the other house in this street, so only small items were to be selected.
To make a quick get away Roger nominated Bert and Mick to search upstairs whilst he would sweep through the downstairs. If the back door was of the same design as the other house they would cut through the double glazing If not they would jemmy it. This would keep the noise down to a minimum.
With all the detail completed they arranged to meet at 10pm. This would allow for final checks on the equipment. Roger held great store in having everything just so, which included timing and the tools for the job. He was convinced that this was partly the reason for them not being caught.
------ x ------
The clock on Mick’s mantelpiece showed 9.45pm. It had been dark now for about an hour. He would make his way down stairs to the garage where he would pick up the glass cutter and the two suction pads he would need to remove the back door glass so as not to shatter it.
He was hoping that the door would have a top and bottom panel and that this meant he need only cut the bottom part
which would allow them to crawl through.
To make detection more difficult, they would meet in different parts of the village with each job they did. On this occasion they had arranged to meet in the car park of the Royal Oak.
Bert and Pete arrived in their old beat up Ford Escort while Roger bought his van. For Mick it would be easier to walk as he only lived around the corner from the Pub.
Mick made his way to Roger’s van. The first thing they would do was to drive around the area of the house making sure that nothing could cause them any concern. They would then park up down the narrow lane that led to the ‘Rec’. Bert pulled out of the pub car park first while Roger and Mick waited the customary five minutes before taking the same route as Bert.
Both drivers would assess the scene and on meeting up they would report any problems and abort the task if need be. In this instance they found nothing to concern them and so the job was on.
In the back of the van lay the Hessian sacks that would be used to bag the booty. Along side these were the cutting gear. On their arrival in the lane they sat for a few minutes to see if any courting couples were still on the field. It wouldn’t be the first time they had disturbed the nuptials of a couple as they skirted open fields to get to their quarry.
The coast was clear. At this stage only Pete had got out of Bert’s car and went to the boot, the rest of them stayed put. From the boot he took out his heavy duty wire cutters and made his way over to the other side of the field. Keeping to the hedge row he made it to the wire fence. He knew from his knowledge of passed exploits on this field which house they were targeting.
The rest of the crew sat looking at their watches. Pete was given a five minute start to cut the wire fence before the others made their way to where he was. Because they had carried out many of these nightly raids not a word was spoken. Each knew the role they had. The job was done like a military manoeuvre.
Squeezing through the fence with the exception of Pete, who would lie in wait, they made their way to the back of the house. This could sometimes be the most difficult part of the operation as most gardens had little cover should neighbours decide to look out of their windows. Fortunately for the gang this garden offered cover in the form of several fruit trees.
Quickly and quietly they made it to the back door. Mick’s wishes were granted as he looked at the back door. It had an upper and lower glass panel. As they had seen no alarm box at the front of the house and there was no sign of security alarms or cameras at the rear they were confident that cutting of the glass would cause no problem to their entry.
Carefully, as if he had been a glazier all his adult life, Mick cut through, first the outer glass and with the aid of the suction pads he placed it against the wall followed by the inner pane. Once this operation had been completed one by one they crawled through the aperture. Because of his size it took Bert a bit longer to ease himself through.
Mick and Bert made their way out of the kitchen through the hall and up the stairs. Because of the street lighting they didn’t need a torch to search the front bedroom which Bert was to rifle through.
Mick took the other two rooms and to help him find his way in the dark he had invested in a new windup type torch that needed no batteries. Both of them knew what they were looking for and were filling their sacks as if they were Santa Claus in rewind.
Roger spent very little time in the kitchen as it was unlikely to yield much reward. The next room to be searched was the dining room. As he was making his way to this room he was stopped in his tracks by a rattling of the front door. Quickly he looked at his watch to check the time. It was just gone eleven.
The other side of the door was the distorted silhouette of what looked like a man. Seconds later the figure disappeared. Once in the dining room he cleared the sideboard drawers of the silver plated cutlery and the ornaments scattered about the room. As soon as he was satisfied that he had bagged the most valuable items he moved back to the hall.
By now the other two had finished their search of the upstairs and were coming down. Without a word spoken Roger pointed to the front room. They knew that their job in the house was completed and that he would soon follow them out after he had searched the front room.
As he entered this last room to be searched Roger’s eyes swept around the room. He spotted the cabinet with the figurines and the ornaments and instantly knew he had hit the jackpot. With expert ease he prised open the cabinet and with the greatest of care he placed them in his sack. The less valuable ornaments were collected and placed with the rest.
It was now time to leave. As he walked passed the coffee table he noticed two lottery tickets sticking out from under the table lamp.
“I might as well take them”, he thought to himself as he slipped them into his back pocket. Maybe this family had a lucky streak. After all, he knew from his daughter that the family had paid for their holiday from the winnings from the lottery.
He closed the door on the lounge and as he made his way down the hall he was stopped in his tracks again. This time it was the sound of a police siren getting louder and louder.
His heart was thumping like an ironsmith’s bellows under his shirt as he waited for the siren to fade. “I’m getting too old for this game”, he decided to himself. Once back in the kitchen he bent down to squeeze himself and the bag of treasures carefully through the open panel of the back door. Once out he made his way back down the garden to the fence.
Bert and Mick had by now crossed the field and were waiting in their respective vehicles. Pete was waiting at the fence ready to take the bag of goodies from Roger. The whole operation had taken them less than twenty minutes. Even by their standards this was very quick. They did however leave behind objects that they would normally have taken.
Once back at the lane the last sack was loaded into the van and they made their way to the lockup. Job done they all made their way up to Mick’s flat.
With drinks being passed round the discussion was centred on what each had managed to bag and the speed in which they had achieved their goal.
Bert was excited by the amount of jewellery that he had found in the dressing table of the master bedroom. Mick on the other hand was quite disappointed with his cache as it was obvious that the rooms he searched were children’s bedrooms. He did however find a small amount of jewellery as well as a couple of watches. Mostly though it was electronic games he had bagged.
“Did you hear the rattle on the door”, Roger asked the others.
“Yea, we did”, replied Bert. “I thought they were coming in. I was convinced we’d been rumbled”, he continued.
“That didn’t scare me as much as when the siren sounded outside after you two had left. I was convinced it was coming to get me”, remarked Roger.
“It’s not fair, you lot have all the excitement while I feel like a statue wondering if anybody can see me as I stand guard”, piped up Pete.
“You shouldn’t think like that, you are a vital part of the setup. Without you the jobs would be much trickier”, remarked Roger in an encouraging way.
By now the time was nearing one in the morning. All except Mick were ready to leave. The time and place for the meeting on Sunday had been arranged and so had the alibi they would need if the police came round. They were playing cards until the early hours at Mick’s should they be quizzed.
Early on Thursday morning Roger would arrive at the lockup and load the catch from Tuesday nights haul and take it to his ‘fence’.
Chapter 4
The Fence
When Roger returned home in the early hours of Wednesday morning he knew that the rest of the family would be in bed. Not wanting to wake up Sandra for no other reason than he did not want to answer the inevitable question as to his whereabouts.
He decided he would be much happier watching TV until he fell to sleep in the armchair. With nothing pla
nned for the rest of the day he would catch up on his sleep whilst the rest of the family were out.
Sandra, meanwhile lay awake after hearing Roger come home. She was pleased to hear the front room door open and close, for this told her he had chosen the armchair instead of bed. This was becoming a familiar pattern in their marriage. They had not made love since just after Rachel had been born, that was even on the rare occasions they shared the bed.
Although Sandra was on the wrong side of forty five she did ache for adult love. She had been in situations where her sexual needs could be met but backed off as she remembered her vows. She was bought up to value commitment. Her only wish was to go back to the days before Roger had been sent to prison. These were the best times. It seemed that prison had destroyed the man she had married.
As she lay awake reliving those times the tears began to seep from her eyes. She knew that nothing she could do now would repair the damage done to their marriage. If it wasn’t for the girls and the lifelong commitment she had made in front of the priest she would have left Roger by now.
The sleep pattern for the remainder of the night was to drift off for a while only to wake to more of the same memories. She glanced at the clock on the bedside cabinet which told her it was ten passed five. She would soon have to get up for work and take the children to her mums before hand.
The work Sandra did was hard and sometimes unthankful but she enjoyed most of it. Her clients were on the whole pretty reasonable. She would call daily on five elderly people, three women and two men. The men were always kind and looked forward to her coming. The women on the other hand were more critical. She thought this might be as a result of not being able to do the things they used to for themselves.
Eventually the alarm shook her out of her thoughts. The clock she knew would tell her it was six thirty. Once up she made the bed even though she knew it would soon be filled again. Roger would come up as soon a she went to the bathroom. Once she had washed she would call the girls.
The Lottery Ticket Page 3