‘Good going not getting us all killed out there, Little Fish,’ Alvina commented as she passed. Her hand lingered on the newcomer’s shoulder. Cole wiped his eyes and thought upon the words.
‘Is that supposed to be a thank you?’
‘No, but it’s as good as you’re going to get.’
Blake, embracing a barrel, watched this unfold in astonishment. He placed it down and rolled it to a shop hand, so forceful that it almost knocked him from his feet.
‘Wait, don’t I get a well done? Where’s my pat on the back, huh?’ he called, stretching his arms out. ‘Thanks, Blake; bang-up job, Blake; don’t mention it, guys – all part of the service.’
Nothing.
He loudly dragged his boots along the ground.
‘Talking to myself here …’
Chapter Ten
The bank robbery
‘I envy you. You’ll get your first taste of violence today.’ Blake arrived late for the briefing, not that it was of any consequence. Jackdaw was late, so Blake managed to avoid a reprimand.
‘I’ve already had that thanks,’ Cole replied, quite impatient for things to begin. Ralust had already rolled out his maps across the table’s veneer and he found himself scanning them prematurely. ‘Or doesn’t a good kicking count on that front? How about the rather chaotic escape in Muskratt last week? Are we just brushing that aside?’
Blake put his gun down on the table with a thump. The weapon separated the space between them, an alarming reminder of the rawness of things – the simplicity of their work. Threats with words. Actions with fists. Bullets from a barrel. A trigger pull could end a life. The right words to the correct person or persons could topple an empire. Ralust sneered and pushed it off the paperwork with a wizened hand.
Blake fondled his beard, dragging his fingers through the bush. His voice was relaxed, routine, at ease with the possibility of violence.
‘Muskratt? That was just a mess-around. I’m talking about something significantly more risky.’
‘How risky?’ Cole tapped his fingers against wood, unnerved by the callousness.
‘If you’re running with us, you should know it’s not all shakedowns and bar-room brawls. We do bigger things. The boss has higher ambitions.’
‘What ambitions could he have?’ Cole twirled his finger in the air, smiling in curiosity. ‘He’s got an opulent dwelling here anyone would be envious of.’
Blake narrowed his eyes. Alvina filled in the gap. She sat with her feet up on the table, raking at her fingernails with a metal file.
‘It means fancy. He’s being smart.’
‘Oh.’ Blake understood, replying deadpan to Cole in retaliation. ‘Shut up.’
Finally, Jackdaw made his appearance. He looked tired, tucking his shirt into his trousers and readjusting his belt for the umpteenth time. His beard was beginning to look scraggy, something that had been commented on and he had said that it would be corrected.
‘More discord in the ranks?’ he grunted, catching fragments of the conversation.
‘Just Little Fish talking crap about your hideout, boss.’ Blake laughed.
‘Is he now? What do you take offence to the most?’
‘It was a throwaway comment, Jack, nothing more,’ Cole said, defending himself.
‘I bet it was. Don’t be giving me reasons to dislike you, Cole, I’m just warming up to you hanging around.’
Blake rolled his eye, out of sight.
‘Blake says we’re going to be causing trouble today, boss.’ Cole queried, ‘That true?’
‘Considerable amounts. There’s a nice little bank in the Richmond district that is an easy mark. Too easy in fact.’
‘So easy that we’ve knocked it over before.’ Alvina halted her filing and sneered. ‘Really? We’re knocking over the Sven & Co again?’
‘You’ve done it before? Isn’t that high risk?’ Cole asked.
‘High risk, high reward. That’s how it goes. Nobody would guess that they would be done over again. Now it’s true that they have a touch more security these days to prevent their money going wandering but a little thing like numbers shouldn’t cause trepidation.’
‘Do we have somebody on the inside again?’ Alvina said, already familiar with the street layout, being that this is where Jack mostly operated and owned contacts.
This time Ralust poured on the scorn. Nothing looked as uncomfortable to Cole as an angry old man. The older an individual got, the more tolerant he found them. For someone as aged as Ralust to find issue with a plan he’d helped formulate was worrying indeed.
‘We have nobody on the inside, which is what makes this so stupid.’ Ralust began to mark the maps up in red ink. He drew lines against the black to show points of ingress, the route they would take and, more importantly, the route through the streets they would use to escape.
‘This one we get to do the old-fashioned way. Bravado and iron and plenty of both. We walk in, make our threats, take away the score. Or, to correct myself for the sake of accuracy, we don’t.’ Jack smiled coyly making it Ralust’s turn to roll his eyes.
‘This already sounds daft,’ Alvina said.
‘Have a little faith. I’ve not steered you wrong before. Ralust, if you please.’
Ralust put his brush and ink away then cleared his throat with a worryingly deep cough. ‘All four of you will go in and will stick up the bank as normal. Two will breach the vault; the other two will be on crowd control. Those hitting the vault will sack up the contents but you won’t ride out with it.’
‘Where’s the money going then?’ Blake queried.
‘The alleyway just outside will be conveniently obstructed up by someone paid to cause such things. There is a manhole down to the sewers a few yards up. You’ll toss the money in, close it off and then make your getaway on horseback with one carrying a decoy sack.’
‘What happens to the money after we ditch it?’ Cole enquired.
‘I’ll be down there waiting with a couple of boys to carry it away. The Bluecoats pursue you all, utterly unaware of where the money actually is. You escape, we bring the pay back.’
‘We just … get away. That simple, huh?’ Cole asked.
‘It’s only complicated if you make it complicated. You can ride, right?’ Jack said, taking over.
‘Sure,’ Cole replied. It had been a little while since he was last on a horse but you never forgot how to control an animal like that. It stayed with you for life.
‘Then ride fast and don’t screw up. Like I said: simple.’
‘Where are we riding to?’
Jack leant forward and tracked a path over the barely dry red ink, starting from a cross over the target and ending near the town outskirts.
‘Shelter will be down by the docks. We move down the canal here to avoid the main streets, come up on this ridge and take to this warehouse. One gets to carry a decoy sack. Each of you needs to memorize the route. If anyone gets separated, then they’ll know where to go. Lastly, I want to avoid any undue fatalities. Nobody dies unless they’re a perceived threat.’ Jack’s statement felt somewhat sterner than usual, making those at the table scan one another momentarily.
‘What’s the reasoning for that?’ Cole asked.
‘You shoot someone dead and the game changes considerably. The law will be that much more keen to gun you down. We’re only in there to take the money, not the life of some poor sucker behind the counter. They’re only doing their jobs. The less heat we take from this, the better,’ Blake added, speaking from unfortunate experience.
Jack added to this. ‘But if they pull something out on you, then drop them. I would rather escape a handful more Bluecoats than accommodate a hole in my chest. Is that clear to everyone?’
A sequence of nods confirmed it.
‘Then get yourselves prepared. I don’t want an oversight to ruin our fortune.’
* * *
The following morning was unremarkable. Nobody paid attention to the posse who made their way
through the streets of Richmond, in single file and on horseback. The occasional truck rattled past, as did animals dragging carts of goods behind. It was another typical morning with nothing worth noting to the locals.
The group dismounted and tied their horses up outside the bank. Neither of them spoke but instead bowed their heads, reaching into their pockets and wrapping their bandanas around the lower halves of their faces.
Immediately, from the other side of the street, Ralust’s contact took the signal and smacked the rear of the oxen that pulled a number of heavy goods carts. They trundled slowly down the alleyway and stopped, as did the ones covering it at the front of the building, just enough to let a single man past. Grain was spilt before them, rooting them to their positions. Somewhere down the alleyway, the grinding of a manhole cover being lifted was hidden by the daily noise.
Weapons were withdrawn from horses. The Jackrabbits made their way inside.
Then, the fun began.
Inside the bank, the guard flanking the door reached for his weapon but he was old, clearly past his prime, and only managed to rise from his seat before Blakestone sent him sprawling to the floor with a punch. The sudden, resounding crack caused feet to spin in their places and heads to turn. Blake relieved him of the weapon and tossed it to Cole for safekeeping.
Alvina marched forward, guns drawn, and threatened everyone in line and the tellers who were taken aback.
‘Folks behind the counter, keep those damn hands high and don’t even consider putting them down. The moment you touch an alarm, everyone in here catches a bullet. Ask yourself if you want to be responsible for a massacre so early in the morning.’ She kept one gun trained on the tellers and snapped another to a man three deep in the line behind. The tell-tale pop of the holster button gave away his intentions. ‘Toss the weapon, sugar – I won’t be repeating myself,’ Alvina threatened, pressing the weapon firmer against his skull. He complied, throwing it aside until it skidded to a stop by the entrance.
Jackdaw announced his arrival loudly, his baritone voice muffled somewhat by the crude cloth mask that covered his mouth. He strode inside, brandishing his shotgun with the barrel facing the ground, though would be quick to draw it at the first instance of difficulty. His boots landed heavily, with every head turning to his arrival.
‘Good morning, one and all!’ he boomed, gleefully almost. ‘I will forgo any and all introductions. You don’t need to know my name and I’m unconcerned with getting to know each of you better beyond the role of hostage. Please, lie flat on your bellies and those with iron tell us now otherwise you’re going to have a very bad day.’
Cole and Blakestone paced around the room, keeping their guns trained on the line of bodies. Those with weapons quickly relinquished them.
Jack continued. ‘Now we’re going to be relieving you folks of the burden of this here money. It’s not yours by any shot unless your surname is on that sign outside, and it’s certainly not worth dying for. So let’s be having no attempts of stupidity and we’ll be on our way faster than fast. You all have my word.’
His gaze met the slight fidgeting of one in attendance who took to his place on the floor, a young man with delusions of glory, judging by the way he was slowly attempting to draw his gun from beneath him. His careful movement stopped abruptly as both barrels of Jackdaw’s shotgun fell into alignment with a bundle of chestnut hair. Its owner violently flinched. Jack narrowed his eyes and soured his words.
‘You know what stupidity is; don’t you, son? It’s what youngsters confuse with heroics. It’ll be a damn shame to ruin this pretty floor with the contents of your skull.’
The young man eased his hand out from beneath him and skimmed his gun over to the middle of the room. Blake immediately retrieved it and took it for his own.
‘Atta boy.’ Jack pulled the weapon away. The sigh of relief from the hostage was audible. ‘Be good while I’m gone.’
He relieved Blake of a tan satchel and beckoned Cole to accompany him behind the tellers and down a staircase to the basement.
The first obstacle was a length of metal bars, separating the men from the vault itself. Naturally they lacked the key so the inset security door was the concern of Cole who rightly assumed they had nowhere near enough time to pick the deep metal lock.
‘This wasn’t here before,’ Jack exclaimed, examining it at various points.
‘How do we open the lock?’ Cole asked, wondering if the satchel Jack carried held the answer.
‘We don’t,’ Jackdaw demanded. Instead, he pointed his shotgun at the hinges, letting two loads out at the top, reloaded, then did the same to the bottom. Next, he took his attention to the lock and blew two holes into it, spraying the metal outward as the shot shattered the mechanism.
‘Who needs keys, right?’ Jack exclaimed, popping the spent shells from the weapon and loading another pair. ‘If you could open that for me please?’
Immediately Cole vigorously kicked against the door, forcing it to rock backward and collapse onto the floor. He wiped the sweat from his face, stepped inside and assessed the final obstacle between them and the money. The rectangular vault door was impressed into the wall, with protruding iron bars jutting out and embedding themselves into the frame. Imposing was too kind a word to describe it.
‘That is one big door,’ Cole mumbled.
‘Considerably. That is an Overton & Co Super Pay walk-in safe. Two foot thick. Eight bolts. Two-key lock. Quite the bitch to crack. Which is why we’re using this.’
Jackdaw finally reached into the satchel and retrieved the tubes of paper and a length of fuse wire.
‘That’s nitroglycerine,’ Cole stated, a waver entering his voice. He had seen first-hand just how dangerous the explosive in question was. Its temperamental behaviour ensured a number of accidents due to its wide use.
‘Smart lad.’
‘No,’ Cole repeated to stress how uncomfortable he was about its presence. ‘That’s nitroglycerine.’
‘I heard you the first time. How do you even know what this is?’
‘I did work for a mining company, remember? Explosives came with the territory. There’s a million mixtures of explosives out there and that’s one of the deadliest ones.’
‘Then I expect you know how to handle it.’
‘I know enough about it that handling it is exactly what I don’t want to be doing!’ There was a shade of panic in his voice.
‘Then this will be a first. Help me fasten as much as possible to the seal. Quickly now. Don’t forget the hinges.’
Fuse wire was tied around the small lengths protruding from each of the red sticks. This was, in turn, run along the floor, through the gap where the door previously was and around the corner, just at the bottom of the stairs. On the way Jack smashed out a barred window to ensure they were safe from the backdraught the explosion would cause. They both hunched down and with a single flick, Jack ignited a small night-black lighter, offering it forward.
‘Want to do the honours?’
Cole lit the fuse and watched the sparkle travel down the wire and out of sight.
‘You may want to cover your ears for this one,’ Jack advised.
It was a mighty explosion, enough to set a ringing in the ears of everyone in the bank. The accompanying rush of air almost took Cole from his feet but luckily he had braced himself beforehand. Finally, the pair looked around the corner at the results of their work. The door lay on the floor, buckled at numerous points where the explosive had done its task. The interior was revealed through a haze of brick dust where their prize was waiting to be taken.
Inside were tables full of money. Bricks of banknotes and sacks of coins were sitting there, waiting to be used as legal tender. Or, in this case, to be unlawfully stolen.
‘That’s just tidy, that is.’ Jack hooted in delight. ‘Boy that sight never gets old. Let’s get as much as we can bagged up and be on our way.’
‘Do we have enough to hold it all?’ Cole asked, tossing some sat
chels on the desks and filling them with bundles of new currency.
‘Stop worrying about fine details and get loading. Time is a factor.’
* * *
Jack scurried to the lobby door and unloaded the weighty bags from his shoulders. Cole followed behind, dragging a couple due to their excessive load. When collected, the pile was quite a sight and its worth substantial.
‘Any trouble?’ Jack asked Blake.
‘Nothing we couldn’t handle.’ Blake smirked, pointing to someone nursing a broken nose, a mess of red dotted down their once-perfect suit.
‘Apparently so. You stay here and make sure nobody does anything of the stupid variety.’ He signalled Alvina to make her way outside, then patted Cole on the chest. ‘You’re up. Get the money to the drop.’
Finally, Jackdaw addressed the poor souls sprawled on the marble floor.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, you have been extremely well behaved. Most of you at least. As much of a joy as it’s been, I’m afraid we must part company. I suggest that nobody follows us and, if so inclined, that you keep your mouths closed when the Bluecoats come questioning. Now I can’t make you do that I know, so I’ll just thank the very nice person in this here room for tipping us off. Couldn’t have done it without you.’
Jack thumbed a gold coin. It rode the floor before reaching the hostages and falling onto its side. They all looked between one another, wondering who he was referring to and would take their payment. Of course, it was all a farce, but it would lead the interrogation by the law in circles later.
‘Let’s do it again some time.’ Jack winked before strolling through the door and mounting his ride.
Cole gripped the bag handles and pulled with every ounce of his strength but the weight made the bags difficult to handle. Instead, he put a couple of the bags over his shoulders, then dragged the others out of the front door, sticking to the wall to avoid suspicion. He disappeared past the pre-ordained obstruction, the gap so small he resorted to pulling the bags over the hoofs of the colossal animal. It grunted momentarily before going back to its meal.
The open manhole was scant feet ahead and ready for its deposit. Cole dragged the bags to its lip and looked down, immediately regretting the decision. The smell forced Cole to immediately recoil. It penetrated the mask and ensnared his nostrils. It was enough to make him vomit and he no doubt he would have, if his mind wasn’t on the job.
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