by R. W. Hughes
Geoff took a deep breath now for the crunch question. ‘Is there any other country still using this gun and its ammunition, Werner?’
There was a long pause before Werner answered. ‘Funny you should ask that question. I was talking to Peer this morning because, as you know, he worked for an old established Austrian engineering company. Apparently, during the war and the ensuing occupation by German forces of the Balkans, his engineering company supplied machinery for producing the gun to one of those occupied countries. Would you believe that after the break-up of the Communist Federation a representative of one of these states approached his company enquiring about re-tooling equipment for the 75mm gun?’
‘What did the engineering company do, Werner?’ asked Geoff, trying to make his question sound casual. Werner thought for a few moments before replying.
‘I do not know the outcome. Peer did not say and then our conversation moved on and we discussed other matters.’ Werner Fisher looked at Geoff for several moments, making him feel rather uncomfortable under his steady gaze.
‘The other matter Peer Merkel and I discussed, Geoff, was you and your three friends.’ Geoff winced at Werner’s blunt statement. Whatever was coming he would have to try and bluff this one out. It was much too early to divulge his plans at this stage in the proceedings.
‘We’re just here on holiday,’ he stammered. ‘Peer Merkel is our interpreter and you are his guest.’ He realised as soon as he had finished that he had not convinced Werner they were simply tourists.
‘Peer Merkel and I are quite old men,’ said Werner.
You’re telling me nothing new there, thought Geoff.
‘We have many years’ experience of life between us,’ continued Werner. ‘We both feel you are running away from a serious matter. You are being followed and you have much more cash than an ordinary group of tourists would carry. Everything you pay for is in cash and you also use a false set of passports. It is clear that you want no one to know where or who you are!’
The clever old pair of codgers have hit the nail on the head, right good and proper, Geoff thought as his brain clicked into overdrive. Where do we go from here? They already know we are on the run so it’s pointless trying to deny that. We’re up the creek without a paddle and, in other words, if they don’t agree to play ball, we’re in the shit!
Having weighed up the pros and cons, Geoff decided he had nothing to lose. It would be pointless having a meeting with the rest of the lads to discuss the situation because he knew all they would say at the end of a lot of talking was, ‘We’ll leave it up to you Geoff’.
So, sitting down, he told Werner Fisher the complete story from lifting the suitcase to the present time. When he told him his plans concerning the tank the old man jumped up making Geoff jump as well.
‘Verruckt! Verboten! You are crazy, absolutely crazy. You will blow up the town.’ Werner Fisher was struggling to emphasise in words to Geoff the impossibility of his plan succeeding. ‘It! It! It would be easier to turn red grapes into white wine than for your plan to have a snow flake in hell’s chance of being successful.’
Geoff was quite amazed, not about the old German’s condemnation of his plan but his perfect English, even when he was excited, as he certainly was at the moment. But even Werner Fisher could not contain himself any longer; he slipped back into his native tongue and proceeded to give Geoff a long sentence in German.
The proceedings were interrupted by Derek Bolton coming to tell them that dinner was about to be served and Peer Merkel would be deeply offended if it was allowed to go cold.
‘I do not know what to say,’ said Werner as he and Geoff made their way towards the dining room.
‘I will discuss what you have told me with my friend, Peer and then we will call you. Even though you have been very generous to both of us, I think it would be wise and much healthier for Peer and me if we departed and left the company of you four gentlemen.’
The statement hit Geoff like a bombshell. He needed to find some more time.
‘Well,’ he replied, ‘before you and Peer make your final decision let me have a word with you both. Will you do that Werner? Please!’
There was several moments’ silence while Werner Fisher gave the matter some thought. ‘You are a very persistent person, Geoffrey. I will discuss it all with Peer after dinner then we will get back to you. Now let us eat, otherwise my friend Peer will be in a very unforgiving mood.’
Geoff was rather quiet during dinner but this went unnoticed as the other three lads were in a jovial mood, especially Sooty, as Derek Bolton had been trying since they had arrived to teach him how to swim properly instead of his version of a dog paddle. Today was the first time, using the breast stroke, that he had swum the width of the pool on his own. Geoff felt rather envious of them. They were enjoying their stay in Italy; to them it was a great adventure holiday, all expenses paid, whereas he was constantly thinking and trying to plan ahead, all in order to save their skins from being hung out to dry.
What would he be doing to try and find them, if he was in the heavy mob’s shoes? How efficient were the police over here? Had they been here too long already? Should they be thinking of moving on? The heavy mob knew they were somewhere in this district. If I was them, this is the area where I would be concentrating my search. As comfortable as the big Mercedes was, it was also a liability standing out like a sore thumb, it could well lead the mob directly to the villa.
After what was again, an exceptional evening meal, it was Sooty’s turn to wash the dishes while the Bolton brothers decided to go for a spin on the bikes before it got too dark. Meanwhile, Peer and Werner went into the lounge to talk.
Geoff wanted space to analyse the situation so he decided he would go and sit by the pool. It was a very peaceful spot overlooking the nearby fields with their sunflowers all in full bloom. It was, as he had to admit, a very pleasant relaxing part of the country, in fact it was absolutely perfect if it was not for the Italian police and the heavy mob trying their hardest to spoil it for them all.
First of all, Geoff decided that if Peer and Werner decided to leave and he could not persuade them otherwise, he would offer to take them to their destination which, he presumed, would be Austria. That way they still had someone to translate for them and they would also be leaving this hot area. With regards to the cash situation, if he was going to leave, he would try the credit cards again and, if for any reason they had not been stopped, he would hammer those to rebuild his cash pile.
As far as the future was concerned, he would have to play the cards that were dealt out to them, as Sir Reginald would have said in this situation, ‘You’ve made your bed young man, now you’ve got to lie on it’.
‘Geoffrey!’ Geoff’s concentration was broken by a shout from the patio doors and looking up he could see Werner Fisher was beckoning him. Mmm, they must have come to their decision, he thought as he followed Werner back into the lounge. He sat down on an easy chair opposite a sofa that both Peer Merkel and his friend, Werner, were occupying.
‘We have discussed in detail your crazy, crazy plan and Peer agrees with me that it is impossible for you to succeed. You will either blow yourself up or completely destroy the town’s Municipal Building. You will, inevitably, be caught, spending at least the next twenty years in an Italian jail. My good friend Peer and I do not wish to be your companions in that hell hole!’
‘You and Peer won’t be here when we do the job,’ Geoff replied before Werner could say any more. ‘You’ll be in Austria.’
‘In Austria? I do not understand!’ said Werner looking a little confused and taken back.
‘You mean you do not wish us to assist you at all?’
‘Yes! I require information and possibly some instructions but when we pull the job you two will be in Austria starting your retirement as you’ve planned. Your ex-office staff knows that’s what you’ve had in mind for a good while. If we pull it off you’ll meet us over the border in Austria. We will be taking
all the risks but we need your knowledge and any dodgy contacts you may know in the banking system to disperse of what will be a massive amount of silver bullion.’ Geoff quickly continued before Peer or Werner could interrupt.
‘Think it through Werner. You and Peer will be on state pensions, with possibly a small private pension, but not enough to give you the lifestyle like you’ve had here in these last few days. It could all be yours. If we get caught, what would be the use of dragging you and Peer into the mire? It would be no advantage to us. You two would just walk away. Think about it, Werner, you’ve nothing to lose and a completely new lifestyle to gain. As you are both well aware, as you get older, private medicine can be expensive, especially if you want the best. You would not be dependent on your National Health system.’
Geoff stopped to get his breath while Werner explained to Peer, in his native tongue, everything Geoff had to say. He had got them thinking and that was half the battle. He had to continue to build on the no risk angle and he might, just might, be able to get them on board.
‘You said yourself, Werner, that the staff at the bank who you served loyally for all those many years did not appreciate your work; they were constantly calling you names behind your back. As you obviously still like this area so much there would be nothing stopping you, in a few years’ time when the dust had settled, buying a place here for you and Peer to use as a holiday home.’ Geoff stopped there to allow what he had already said to Werner to sink in.
‘Even if we thought about it a little more, where would you get the shells for the tank?’
He’s thinking about it, he’s taken the bait, thought Geoff to himself.
‘Albania! It’s just a ferry ride away and they, the Albanians as Peer said, are still using the 75mm shells, the same as used in the gun of the Mark 111 tank. I have a contact in London. He can get you anything you want.’
Geoff was exaggerating a lot the capabilities of Jock the Fence but if enough cash was available he was sure the Scot had contacts that could produce the goods. As Sir Reginald would say, ‘A drowning man will grab at a straw’. Werner looked at the frail figure in front of him, his mind turning over what he had just heard.
‘I will talk a little more with Peer.’ He then carried on talking to his friend in German. Well, Geoff thought to himself, I’m glad that I have bitten the bullet, and, as the saying goes,‘nothing ventured, nothing gained!’
John and Derek Bolton returned from their bicycle ride. They had followed what looked like a farm track which they could see continued over the nearby range of hills and they assumed it would eventually drop down towards the main city of Arezzo.
On their return journey they told Geoff they had come upon a man with the same little Jack Russell dog, which they had nearly flattened in the car earlier. He had not been aware of them because of the quietness of the bikes but when he did see them he hurriedly left the path and went quickly into the nearby woods. His dog stopped though to give them several defiant barks before scampering off after its owner.
This created another worry for Geoff on top of all the other problems; there were strangers wandering around in the vicinity.
Sooty joined the trio having finished his duties in the kitchen. Geoff decided now was the time to tell the group his plan while they were all together.
‘Right, lads, while we are all here I need to tell you what the situation is? Our cash situation is becoming desperate.’
He stopped looking around at their expectant upturned faces allowing what he had just said to register, before continuing, ‘I’ve devised a plan that would set us up so that we could live this lavish lifestyle that we have enjoyed and have become accustomed to, and allow it to continue for much longer than the credit cards’ cash will last. Also we could disappear off the radar so the police and the other mob will hopefully loose our tracks, permanently.’
He stopped again. He now had their full, undivided attention. ‘Unfortunately, as with everything, where there are great rewards it’s only fair to tell you of the enormous risks involved.’ He stopped for a few more moments, took several deep breaths then continued, ‘If we get caught it could mean spending twenty years in an Italian jail or risk blowing ourselves to kingdom come. The alternative is to stick it out here until our money runs out or until the London heavies eventually get lucky and find us. Of course, if the Italian police pull us in they might stick us into one of their jails until they deport us to the UK.’
There was a long silence amongst the group which was eventually broken by John Bolton. ‘Could we go back to the UK Geoff? That would throw the heavies off the scent.’
‘I’ve thought about that as well John,’ replied Geoff. ‘It would only be a matter of time before we were spotted over there, and the same situation would apply as here. I for one don’t want to spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder, and running from one town to another. In a short while we’d be flat broke without a penny piece between us.’
‘From what you’re saying there doesn’t seem to be any other option, Geoff,’ added Derek.
‘If there was any other alternative I would have taken it, I can assure you. I have to be straight with you mates, the chances of pulling this one off are practically zero, minus a bit!’ replied Geoff.
‘We’ll give it our best shot, Geoff,’ volunteered Sooty without any hesitation.
‘I like this lifestyle Geoff; I don’t fancy going back to the grime. Yeah!’
‘In for a penny in for a pound,’ chipped in the eldest Bolton brother, quoting one of Geoff’s sayings. Geoff listened quietly to the banter that passed between the other three lads. Even though he had spelt out how serious and dangerous it would be, they did not realise the implications of failure.
It was obvious to Geoff they thought it would be the same as the other scams they had pulled and got away with over the previous years. Still he was feeling enormously proud that they were his team and that they were prepared to follow him into what was going to be a very sticky and highly precarious operation, more hazardous than anything they had ever contemplated or even thought of tackling before. But their present high hopes could all come to nothing. It all depended on whether Werner Fisher and Peer Merkel decided that they did not want to be party to the attempt to blow the new high security safe that was being temporarily stored in the Municipal Building on the outskirts of Castiglion Fiorentino, especially, as it involved using their old Second World War battle wagon in the process.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Peer Merkel and Werner Fisher were still in deep conversation in the lounge late that night when Geoff passed on his way to his own bedroom. He did not have a good night’s sleep and woke up with a start on several occasions, soaked in sweat. All the problems, the options and the possible solutions were chasing one another around in a great circle in his brain. And the previous nightmare kept recurring, every time he tried to leave the turret of the tank he was being shot at with machine guns by the Italian police.
He went down to the kitchen quite early the following morning, as he passed the lounge he was surprised to see Werner Fisher and Peer Merkel still in the room. Werner Fisher was asleep on the sizeable sofa whilst Peer Merkel was asleep on one of the easy chairs.
He continued on to the kitchen and placed the kettle on the stove. He would make some coffee, take it in to the two old men and, hopefully, he would know the results of their long late night conversation within the next few minutes. It would be then that he and his mates’ attempt to crack the new super special reinforced safe would go ahead or not. If not he decided they would pack their bags and leave the villa that very same day.
He set out the three cups and saucers on the tray and took the jug of milk from the fridge before giving it thirty seconds in the microwave as both the Austrians liked hot milk with their coffee. As he placed the sugar bowl alongside the milk jug, sorted out several spoons and placed the full percolator of coffee on the tray, he noticed his fingers were shaking like they had never
done before.
‘Well, here goes,’ he said aloud to himself, gritting his teeth as he left the kitchen and entered the lounge.
‘Buongiorno, gentlemen, coffee!’ he said loudly with forced cheerfulness as he placed the tray on the low table between the sofa and the easy chair occupied by Peer Merkel who was struggling to rouse on Geoff’s noisy arrival. It was not the case with Werner Fisher, he awoke with a start, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.
‘Ah, thank you Geoffrey. Molto bene. Grazie!’ exclaimed Werner as his sleepy eyes spotted the steaming jug of coffee.
‘Benissimo!’ Peer Merkel called out as he placed his glasses on his nose and slowly surveyed the surroundings, he too eventually focusing on the coffee pot.
Geoff poured the coffee, handing one cup to each of the old gentlemen in turn, allowing them to help themselves to the hot milk and brown sugar he offered on the tray. He then sat down on a spare chair with his own cup while Werner and Peer sipped their coffee. He sensed they had reached a decision and, in due course and when it suited them, they would no doubt inform him of the verdict. He just had to sit it out and wait.
He attempted to drink his own coffee but his hands were shaking so much that much of it went into his saucer so, placing both the cup and saucer on a nearby table, he just sat with his hands clasped together.
The two men seemed to be concentrating on drinking their own coffee not seeming to notice his predicament, if they did, they ignored it.
Geoff was expecting Werner to open the conversation but it was Peer, surprisingly, who startled him slightly by saying his name. ‘Geoffrey! Werner and I have spoken together, many hours into night. We are brutal and to the point. No! You have no experience of manoeuvring and firing grand 75mm Assalto Cannone. Also, none experience on safe cracking!’ Geoff smiled inwardly at Peer using the American gangster expression.
‘You are looking you pie in sky,’ continued Peer. ‘You think everything red rosy. My friend, Merkel, not know people who can move silver bullion. He does not.’