'We'll have no bother,' he said. 'I'll take three twentieths like the others. The odd twentieth can go to the girls.'
There was a stupefied silence. Cain was the first to recover. 'Well!' he exclaimed. 'I'll say that's damned decent of you, old man. It'll make the girls keener. They'll work better for us.'
France did not reply. He was watching Husker, who still looked suspicious though his astonishment was passing. He saw Husker appraising his concession, looking for the trick. Eventually suspicion faded, too. 'That seems fair enough,' the man admitted reluctantly.
'We don't want any bad blood in this mob,' France said. 'If there's anybody here who thinks he can't get on with me, let him say so now, and I'll stand down. You can soon get somebody else.'
'Oh, I'm sure there's no hard feelings,' Cain protested. 'Is there, boys?'
Coggan and Jolly concurred unreservedly. Husker hesitated as he sought in his mind for the right thing to say. He said at last: 'I've no hard feelin's for nobody if I'm treated fair.'
'Good enough,' said Cain. 'Tomorrow Bill 'ull drive you north to get the XXC.'
'I'll drive mesel',' Husker said. 'I'll go on my own.'
Again there was a silence. 'Why on your own?' Cain asked softly.
'For a while I had a one-man weldin' business not a thousan' mile from Granchester. My tale is I'm startin' up again, but I owe so much money to North Western Oxygen I can't get gas as a registered user. I have to get it on the crook, see? I know where I can get it.'
'That's a good story,' said France, who thought that it was, and Husker looked almost grateful.
'Right,' said Cain. 'That's settled. Tomorrow I'll set Flo on casing a nice little tickle I have in mind. Flo and Dorrie between 'em will find out when the money goes to the bank, and when it don't. Then the Gent can take a preliminary look at the place, and we'll be ready to go. Can you get a drill, Sailor?'
'Got one,' Jolly said. 'Electric. And I've still got my catalogues. The coppers never found 'em.'
'Catalogues?'
'My safe catalogues. I've been collectin' 'em for thirty years.'
'Well, that's fine,' Cain said. 'Now then, who wants another drink? Don't all speak at once.'
5
The new XXC mob's first break-in was an evening job, because the time of year was late September and it was quite dark by eight o'clock. Half past eight was the time chosen, because it was a quiet time for both cars and pedestrians. The 'tickle' was a fairly big Co-operative store in south-east London, which was closed at six o'clock every weekday, except for early closing day. There was no watchman. It was not a modern store, and Cain was of the opinion that it would not have a modern safe.
Flo had ascertained that the manager and an assistant carried a heavy bag to a local bank every morning at eleven o'clock, and she had also noticed that when they emerged from the bank the bag seemed to be much lighter. So it was assumed that every night the best part of a day's takings were left in the store. Friday was the busiest shopping day. Friday evening was chosen for the robbery.
The Co-op had a backyard with a high gate. The gate was in a quiet alley. Across the alley, the dark glimmering windows of a big warehouse looked down into the yard. The warehouse had a watchman, but occasionally this man deserted his post and went along to a nearby inn for a couple of hours. It was assumed that he would certainly go for a drink on Friday, the beginning of the weekend and one of the best nights of the week for tavern company.
To make sure of this, Sailor Jolly was on the job as soon as it was dark. He saw the watchman leave the warehouse and go to the inn. He entered the inn and had a half-pint of mild ale, and saw the watchman settle down to a game of cribbage in the taproom, with a pint of beer at his elbow.
Jolly was waiting, watching the Co-op, when his confederates arrived in the Austin car. He gave a prearranged signal, and then followed the car as Coggan drove it into the alley. Only France got out of the car. He was wearing rubber gloves and a suit with more pockets than a poacher's, and in the pockets he carried all the equipment he was likely to need for entry, search, or escape. The one other thing he needed tonight was in the car.
Jolly arrived, and gave him a shoulder to the top of the gate. He climbed over and unbolted the gate. He and Jolly held it wide open while Coggan reversed the car in through the gateway, then they quietly bolted it.
'The jack,' France said softly to Jolly.
Cain and Husker were getting out of the car, Coggan remained in his seat. Jolly opened the boot and took out the jack without noise, because he knew exactly where it was.
All the rear windows of the Co-op, upstairs and down, were barred, and the back door was so firmly secured that it would not move at all. France inspected one of the windows. He spread one of his hands to its widest span, measuring the distance between the bars. Cain moved to stand beside him.
'Think you can do it?' he asked.
'Sure,' was the quiet reply.
Jolly arrived with the jack. Cain turned away to help Husker with his equipment. Coggan decided to get out of the car and help with this task, too. Husker had hoped to get propane instead of acetylene, but he had failed. In the modified boot of the car were a cylinder of oxygen and a shorter, broader cylinder of acetylene, together with the equipment which Husker would need.
Jolly held the jack horizontally between two bars of the window. France fitted in the handle, and began to turn it. It was stiff work, but one of the bars was weaker than the other, and it began to bend. The jack was now firm between the bars, and Jolly did not need to hold it.
'Here,' he said, as France strained. 'Let me do that. You don't know what we'll find inside. If your arms get tired you'll be all of a tremble.'
That was quite true. A man could not sound a lock with unsteady hands. France relinquished the jack, and Jolly began to turn it with a will. The weaker bar bent until it touched another bar. It was held firm there, and the stronger bar began to bend. Eventually the two bars were far enough apart for a man or a cylinder of acetylene to slip through.
Behind the bars, the window was immovable. Clearly it had not been opened for years, and could not be opened without making a lot of noise. France studied it. 'I don't like breakin' glass,' he muttered.
Now the XXC equipment was all unloaded, Cain, Husker, and Jolly now watched France, while Coggan did look-out duty. Cain held a pencil torch while France produced a strong pocket knife and started to cut and prise away the putty around the lower of the two window panes. In a few minutes the pane was held in place only by the few small nails which had been under the putty. France put away his knife and brought out some small pliers. He extracted all the nails, so that there would be no chance of any member of the party tearing his clothes and leaving a clue for the police. He pocketed the pliers and got out his knife again, and used it to prise the pane of glass gently forward until it leaned against the window bars. Then he put away the knife. Not once did he put down a tool. After use, every tool was returned to his pocket before another one was brought out.
Then began the delicate task of slanting and turning the sheet of glass until he held it nearly vertical, at right angles to the window frame. When this was done, he deftly and carefully slid it out between the bars.
'Fine, fine,' breathed Cain.
France carried the pane of glass to a corner of the yard, so that nobody would need to go near it. He leaned it against the wall and returned to the window. With his own torch in his hand he slipped through the opening, leading the way into the building and leaving Cain, Jolly, and Husker to follow with the equipment.
The first obstacle he encountered was a locked inner door, between a stock-room and the main shop. He looked at the lock closely, and found that there was a key on the other side. His gloved fingers felt along the bottom of the door, and found that there was some space between the door and the floor. Turning from the door, he let the thin beam of his light travel low around the room. On a table by the wall there was a teapot and some crockery, and a sheet of
brown paper had been spread in lieu of a tablecloth. France moved the crockery to a shelf, and took the paper and slid it under the door. Then he set to work on the lock with long, fine pliers. He moved the key until he was able to push it out, and it dropped on to the brown paper with a metallic thud. He drew the paper back to his own side of the door, and the key came with it.
Burdened with equipment, the other three were now standing behind him. 'Don't any of you show a light,' he whispered as he unlocked the door. The sense of the warning became apparent as he gently pushed it open. The front, main part of the shop was bathed in light from the street. It shone on the polished counters, and on the orderly piles of canned foods on display. In the street a woman was passing, looking into the shop window as she walked along. The four men stood quite still.
The woman moved out of sight. A man also passed, but he looked straight to his front. France stepped through the doorway and found that there were narrow stairs to the left. 'The manager's office must be up here.' he said, and led the way.
On the square landing at the head of the stairs there were three doors, only one of which was locked. It was an ordinary latch lock. France shook the door gently, and found that there was room to work a piece of strong but pliant celluloid between door and jamb. This 'loid', which was his most useful housebreaking implement, France carried in his sock. When the loid was in place above the lock he brought it smartly down on the tongue of the lock, turning the door handle and pushing at the same time. The loid pressed back the tongue far enough for the door to be opened.
France replaced the loid in his sock, and pushed open the door. He entered a small room which contained a desk, shelves of books and papers, a chest of drawers, three upright chairs and a big safe. Here too was light from the street shining through a window of moderate size. It was bright enough to show that the safe had a very old-fashioned look.
'I could open that thing with a twirl,' France said with contempt.
'I daresay you could,' said Cain, who had followed him into the room. 'We'll use the XXC. I want to see how Husker shapes on the job. Let's get this window blacked out for a start.'
Folded and carried on his shoulder was the piece of heavy grey canvas which was to be used to cover the window. Before he unfolded the canvas he took a small paper bag from his pocket, and from the bag he shook out broad-headed carpet tacks into his palm. 'Six apiece,' he said, handing tacks to France.
Each standing on a chair, the two men thumb-tacked the canvas to the wall nine inches above the window. It was big enough to extend eighteen inches on each side of the window and it hung a foot below. It made a perfect blackout curtain.
While they were engaged in this task they could hear Husker and Jolly grunting and panting up the stairs with the oxygen cylinder. When Cain had stepped down and crossed the room to switch on the light, they entered with their burden. Jolly immediately put down the end he was carrying and collapsed on to a chair, but Husker lowered the cylinder carefully to the floor. He leaned gasping against the desk, eyeing the cylinder.
'The acetylene's a lot heavier,' he said. 'Next time you'd better find a place wi' no stairs.'
'Have a rest,' Cain advised. He and France, a stronger team, brought up the acetylene cylinder, and by that time the other two were sufficiently recovered to go and bring up the two suitcases which held the hose, regulators, blowpipes, mask, protective clothing, and the electric drill which Jolly had contributed.
Jolly had noticed a power plug in the skirting board. 'It's a thirteen amp, like I've got on my drill,' he said. 'I might as well be boring a hole while he's getting his stuff ready.'
'Just the job,' Cain assented. 'It might give us an idea what sort of steel we're up against.'
So Jolly set to work without delay, while Husker made his own arrangements. He wanted the cylinders upright against the wall as far behind the safe as he could put them, so that no sparks could reach them. He had equipped himself well, but he had no stand for the oxygen cylinder. While the acetylene would stand on its own base, the oxygen had to be held upright by France.
Husker fitted the regulators and hose, and with a key from his pocket he turned on the gas. The observant door-and-window man noticed that the oxygen showed a pressure of 1900 pounds to the square inch, while the acetylene showed a pressure of only 220 pounds. He was further surprised when Husker adjusted the gauge to discharge oxygen at 160 pounds, while the needle on the acetylene gauge showed only 7 pounds. He was to learn later that at certain temperatures oxygen had an affinity with iron and its compounds. The acetylene was only used to provide heat, while a thin dagger of pure, hot oxygen pierced the iron or steel. Nor did it melt the steel. It caused it to disintegrate, blowing it away in bright sparks which cooled to brittle flakes of grey rust.
'I'm through,' Jolly announced. 'Right through.'
Husker nodded. He was putting his arms into a leather garment which covered arms, chest, and shoulders. He tied on his leather apron and put on his mask, which was in fact a respirator. He pulled on strong leather gloves and picked up the blowpipe, which was actually an arrangement of three pipes ending in one nozzle which was a rosette of tiny apertures, with one central aperture for the oxygen.
He went on one knee, not in front of the safe but in a position where he could work on it from the side. The blowpipe allowed for this, being turned at a right angle a few inches from the nozzle.
He set an adjustment on the blowpipe, and raised it and held it behind his shoulder, to where France stood behind him, in such a manner that the nozzle was within reach of France but not pointing towards him. A muffled voice came from the respirator, and the other men understood. He removed one hand from the oxygen cylinder and brought out his lighter. He flicked it and held it forward and an eight-inch jet of flame shot from the blowpipe.
Jolly pointed to the three-sixteenths-of-an-inch hole he had drilled, and from the hole he traced a downward arc on the safe door with the tip of his forefinger. 'That way you should cut the tumbler bars,' he said.
Again Husker nodded, and Jolly stepped back. The jet of flame began to play on the safe door near the newly drilled hole. It spread as it hit the steel, burning away the paint. This treatment was continued for some time. Cain looked at Jolly in disgust. 'He'll never open the safe in a thousand years like this.'
Jolly shrugged, and continued to watch the display of flame on steel. Cain moved nearer. 'You're not cutting it, man,' he protested. 'You're not getting anywhere.'
Husker stopped work and lifted his respirator. 'Shurrup,' he snarled. 'An' stand back unless you want to be blinded.'
Cain stepped back, and thereafter was silence as an area of the safe door grew hot enough to glow dully. As the glow became brighter, Husker's hand moved to a trigger on the blowpipe. He turned on the main stream of oxygen, and at once the flame changed its nature. Now it was less than three inches long, driven so hard that it looked like solid light. When Husker applied the tip of the flame to the safe door, big golden sparks exploded from the point of impact in a shower which made the watchers move back as far as they could go. They stood in fascination as the nozzle of the blowpipe moved with perfect steadiness, slowly but visibly, along the line which Jolly had indicated.
With this safe it was a matter of minutes. Husker stood up and turned off the flow of gas from the cylinders. He pulled off his respirator and revealed a face beetroot red and streaming with sweat. 'Is that all right?' he asked.
Cain was already at the door of the safe. 'It won't open,' he said thickly.
'Just a minute,' Jolly told him.
France was allowed to put down the oxygen cylinder. Both cylinders were laid side by side. While Husker watched, the other three tilted the safe, and moved it a little in that position. There was a tiny metallic 'plunk'. 'Try it now while we hold it like this,' Jolly said to France.
France grasped the handle of the safe and pulled the door open.
While Husker stripped off his leather armour, Cain transferred bundles of pape
r money from the top shelf of the safe to an ordinary brown-paper carrier bag held by Jolly. 'We'll only take about ten quids' worth of the silver,' he said, trying to appear businesslike in his exultation. 'You get noticed trying to pass a lot of silver.'
They took away the oxygen cylinder, but nobody wanted to wrestle with the acetylene again. 'Leave it,' Husker said. 'I'll try an' get a couple of ten-pound bottles of propane for the next job.'
Outside in the yard, Coggan reported that he had heard nothing and seen nobody. They loaded the car with their equipment, and opened the gate. 'I'll close it,' France said.
'Leave the bloody gate,' Cain said, reckless with success.
'No,' France replied firmly. 'It's better for this job to be found in the morning.'
Cain sighed and got into the car. It moved out into the alley. France barred the gate and climbed over it. He pushed his way into the crowded rear seat of the car, and it shot away.
The plunder amounted to nine hundred and thirty-five pounds. 'It'll have to do for a start,' Cain said as he shared it out. 'But we'll do better.'
'We sure will,' Jolly concurred. 'We're in business, boy. We're in business.'
6
The XXC men were indeed in business. They grew bolder and more ingenious, but not less careful. They learned about safes. They struggled with safety bars, alloy steels, and laminated plates. They cut holes, and grubbed out insulation, and cut again. They opened safes from the front and they opened them from the back. They were invariably successful, because they took care not to attempt jobs which were too big for them. The custodians of bank vaults and strong-rooms were not their prey.
But the experienced members of the mob—and that meant all of them except Husker—grew uneasy in their elation.
'We done twenty peters,' Cain said quietly to France one day, 'and never a sign from down the road.'
That was true, and ominously so. No member of the gang had been questioned, or had heard of questions being asked about him. But the police would be furiously active. Twenty safe jobs in a line, all done by the same crowd! The top coppers would be taking it out of the ordinary coppers, and the ordinary coppers would be just about ready to crucify somebody.
Two men in twenty Page 4