He went to the window and parted the curtains. He saw that from the window sill there was a drop of about fourteen feet to the street. There was some traffic and a few people, but no undue commotion. He was convinced that the police had not yet found the florist's van, and if they had heard the crash of breaking glass they had not yet thought of the Berlin Wall trick. Well, they hadn't had much chance. It was not much more than two minutes since the van had been abandoned.
As he opened the window the dog's excitement became unbearable. It began to yap. He obtruded his head and looked down, and both ways along the street. There were two girls fifty yards away, looking into a shop window. Forty yards away in the other direction a man was walking away from him. He put one leg over the sill, and as he took a last look into the room he saw that the old man was sitting up and staring at him. He lowered himself until he hung from the window at arm's length, then he dropped to the ground. Unhurt and not even shaken he looked about him. The two girls were still looking into the shop window, and the walker had not turned round.
A car had passed, and another was some distance away. He ran across the road at top speed, and was round a corner and out of sight before the old man roused himself to get up and look out of the window. By the time the old man had shouted long enough and loud enough to bring a policeman, Coggan was half a mile away.
* * * * *
It was twenty minutes before news of the abandoned van was given to the Information Room and relayed back to Martineau. When he heard it he sent men into the cordoned area, and he ordered that every vehicle inside the area should be picketed. He assumed that the XXC mob was now without transport, and he intended that they should remain so.
Some time after that, when he heard that the mob's wheel man had slipped through the cordon, he guessed that the remainder would still be waiting inside some building, waiting for transport which would not arrive. He sent Detective Constable Cassidy back to Headquarters to consult the 'key book', and to telephone managers and suchlike people who held keys of vulnerable premises. Cassidy was to ask them to bring their keys to Headquarters and remain in readiness there.
There were men still standing by in other divisions. At Martineau's request Clay called out enough of these men to form an inner cordon around the College Street area. Then, with his own squad, Martineau went to College Street.
'If necessary, we'll search every building,' he said to Sergeant Devery. 'But we'll start with the likely ones. Let's go and look at Haddon and Walker's.'
They went and looked, moving very quietly round the building. They used light very sparingly, but they ascertained that every possible place of entry was secure and unmarked. Devery tried doors silently, with extreme care.
'Nothing here,' Martineau said. 'Let's go and look at Holroyd's.'
* * * * *
Inside Haddon and Walker's four thieves had been convinced for some time that their plans had gone awry. But little had been said. Cain was as worried as anybody, but he told the others: 'We can't do anything. We'll just have to wait, and keep quiet.'
France, a man who had been cornered many a time, had no comment to make. He moved away from the others, and sat on the floor close to the door by which they had entered, and by which they hoped to leave. He listened for noises outside, and considered the situation as coolly as he could.
Coggan was overdue. He could have had an accident with the van, and might be in hospital. Or he might be unhurt, but left with an undriveable vehicle, in which case he might be some time getting hold of another one. He could have had a mechanical breakdown which could not be quickly repaired, in which case again he would have to find another vehicle.
There were less hopeful surmises. The police might have got wind of something, and the area might be so infested with them that Coggan was afraid to come near. Or he might be under arrest, with the police trying to make him tell them where his friends were. Only one thing was certain. Coggan had not driven past the back door of Haddon and Walker's since the men inside had settled down to wait for him. No vehicle had passed along that quiet street.
France's troubled thoughts did not cause him to relax his vigilance. It was not the first time that he had had to reply entirely on his ears to learn what was happening. He reflected that it was a pity that the windows were not of clear glass. Only the office windows gave a view of the street, and they were on the wrong side of the building. Nobody would want to go and station himself in the office, in case Coggan should come and go in a hurry. Nobody would want to take the risk of being left behind.
So France had to listen for a sign, and eventually it came. There was a very slight click as someone gently turned the handle of the door beside which he sat. In a moment he had his face to the floor, trying to look under the door. He saw a brief, pale glimmer of light. It was the merest flicker, but he was certain about it. As he looked under the door he had his ear to the ground, but he seemed to feel rather than hear the pad of soft footsteps. There had been two men, he felt sure. Two of them! Therefore not men working a beat in the normal way, because beat men did not go in pairs. A beat man would have made more noise trying the door, and probably he would have shown more light. Those two men were looking for something or somebody in a definite way. It was highly probable that they were looking for Cain and Company.
Husker gave utterance in a strained whisper: 'How much bloody longer will we be stuck here?' And Cain's reply was also indicative of strain. He said: 'Belt up, you bloody little nitwit.'
France realized that the others had not seen the moving light, nor had they been able to see his own movements. He pondered what he should do, and loyalty did not enter into his considerations. One man had more chance of sneaking through a police cordon than four men had. He was reasonably certain now that Coggan would not come. He wondered if he could depart without being noticed.
His eyesight was excellent, and for the past hour it had been conditioned by darkness. He could dimly discern the end of the long packing table on which the others were sitting. There was very little light from the room's two windows, because they were a long way from any street light. The door at the rear of the room was not visible at all, but an open doorway near the furthest window showed as a rectangle of lesser darkness.
He turned and began to crawl, so that he would not be seen as he passed the windows. Before each movement he felt his way ahead, but he encountered no obstacles. Near the doorway he stood up. He stepped through into the next room and waited there. There was no comment from the others. They had not seen him go.
He did not risk using a light, but groped round the walls until he found a door. It was not locked. He opened it and passed through towards the front of the building, moving into deeper darkness because there were no windows. He used his torch, and saw that he was in a huge room which was two storeys high. In front of him were a few steps and a raised floor. He climbed the steps, and saw that he had found the loading bays. A familiar smell came to his nostrils, and this time it was not groceries. It was the garage smell. There were lorries parked in the loading bays.
He went to the first bay and examined the lorry nearest the door. It was a Thames Trader which seemed to be almost new. It was a vehicle which might be strong enough to knock aside temporary obstructions.
He turned his attention to the great steel shutter of the loading bay. It was fastened down by a bar which passed through a staple embedded in concrete.
His light flicked upward as he looked at the mechanism for raising the shutter. There was a roller at the top, and at the side there was a strong chain for working it. He assumed that energetic hands on the chain could make the shutter go up quickly, if noisily.
It seemed to him that there was a way of escape for all four of them, after all.
20
Beside the back door, Cain decided to take counsel with France. He groped his way to where the door-and-window man had been sitting. Finding nobody there, he peered around in the dark.
'Ned,' he whispered as lo
udly as he dared. 'Where are you?'
There was no reply, and dread came like an echo of his whisper. His most useful and reliable man had been there, and now he was not there. Panic gave him the feeling that some malign creature of darkness had snatched France away.
But the panic was momentary. 'No good getting the jitters,' he decided. He tried the door, and found that it was still locked. He called again, and was not answered. He returned to Husker and Jolly. He could not see their faces, but their agitated whispers made their alarm quite evident.
'I never trusted that bastard,' Husker said. 'He's piked off an' left us.'
'If Bill comes for us now, how're we goin' to get that damned door open?' Jolly demanded.
Something moved in the lesser darkness of the doorway beside the wall. 'Take it easy,' France said as he approached. 'I'm still with you. I've been havin' a look round.'
'Well, don't do it again without telling me,' was Cain's sotto voce explosion. 'You had me worried.'
'You're goin' to be more worried in a minute,' came the calm retort. 'I know something you don't know. Two coppers tried that door five minutes ago, and they were awful quiet about it. They know we're around here somewhere, and soon they'll be searchin' every place.'
'Let's get out of here!' Jolly blurted. 'Open that door!'
'Hold your horses. I've been to look for a better way of goin' out of here, and I think I've found one.'
They were silent as he told them about the Thames Trader in the loading bay. 'It'll be a noisy job, so it'll have to be quick,' he said. 'You three will get into the cab and start her up. As soon as the engine is goin', I'll start raisin' the shutter, and I'll give you the word when it's clear of the top of the cab. Then you go. Like hell.'
'What about you?' Cain wanted to know.
'I'll scramble on to the back and lie flat. I'll be all right.'
Cain thought for a moment. 'It seems to be the only thing for us to do,' he admitted. 'All right, let's go. I'll drive.'
As France led the way to the front of the building he continued to weigh the odds against a successful escape. He was uncertain about his own chance of survival on the open platform of the lorry, if it should crash into an obstruction and suddenly be stopped. He wondered if it would be a better plan to simply let the others go. They would distract the attention of the police, who would naturally assume that all the men they sought would be on the lorry.
He was still undecided when the others climbed into the lorry. 'Ignition key's here all right,' Cain whispered through the lowered window of the cab.
'Start her as soon as the noise starts,' France told him.
Noise came almost immediately. The shutter bolt was stiff, and France had to kick it from its socket. The whirr of the lorry's starter was almost simultaneous with the clang of the bolt. France sprang to the chain, pulling it down with rapid hand-over-hand movements, and behind the noise it made he heard the soft roar of the lorry's engine. In that moment he made up his mind. When the shutter was high enough he called: 'Get going!' and ran to the back of the lorry. But he did not climb aboard. The lorry shot forward almost too abruptly. It needed the full width of the street to make the turn. It roared away, round a corner, out of sight.
Listening, France heard running footsteps. He faded far back into the building, and down the steps to get below the level of the loading floor. Watching from there, he saw two men run to the open doorway. He ducked as the beam of a flashlight swept across the loading floor.
'You'd better stay here, Bert,' one of the men said, and he ran on.
France thought then that he had made a mistake in staying behind. But he did not dwell on it. He still had time in hand. One lonely police officer would not attempt to search this place. He would wait for reinforcements, and with Cain roaring about the streets in a lorry, it might be half an hour or even an hour before anyone came to him.
Moving silently, below the level of the raised floor, France made his way to the door by which he had entered.
* * * * *
On the other side of the city, Bill Coggan wrestled with a problem. While congratulating himself on his escape from the police, he realized that he had made three mistakes that night. First—the most recent error—he had let an old man see his face. Second—the most important—he had emerged from the Marquis of Granby Inn without gloves, and he had entered the florist's van and touched various parts of it before he had put on his gloves. When he had abandoned the van, he had felt that he did not have the time to give it the usual wipe down to erase all fingerprints. They could be there, on the wheel, on the door, anywhere.
Coggan's third mistake—the first in chronological order—had been to leave £90 in notes stuffed in the mattress of his bed at No. 20 Naylor Street. He reflected ruefully that he ought to have put that money in his pocket early in the evening. But he had felt so sure that he would be able to return to collect it that it had not occurred to him that it would be safer in his pocket.
The thousands of pounds which he had made since he had teamed up with Cain were safe in the south of England, in the custody of his widowed mother who was the only person in the world he trusted. The ninety pounds were for something which he called running expenses. In his pocket now, as he journeyed towards Churlham, he had only five pounds and some change.
That was his problem, whether to go to Naylor Street and collect the money, or stay away and lose it. He had enough money to get home to Mother if he went at once and caught a night train. But ninety quid! It was a lot of lolly. Bill Coggan had risked his liberty many a time for less.
Did the coppers have Naylor Street taped, or did they not? How could they have found out about it? Well, how could they have found out about that tulip transporter?—but it looked as if they had. Perhaps they had only spotted the van through its movements around the Archer Street area. They might not know about Naylor Street at all.
In the end Coggan compromised. He would reconnoitre very carefully. If there were bogies around, he would see them and withdraw. If there were no bogies, he would go and collect his money.
He alighted from the Churlham bus several streets away from his destination. He did not go directly to Naylor Street, but circled it, looking everywhere for lurking figures. He was careful, and thorough. He saw no policemen because none were there. When word had come to Chief Superintendent Clay that the XXC mob's wheel man was believed to have slipped through the cordon, he had ordered the withdrawal of all the watchers at Naylor Street except those who were stationed at the window above Otto Neubaur's shop.
The key of No. 20 was hanging on a nail in the kitchen of No. 22. When Coggan finally did slip round the end of the block to reach 22, he gave the code knock and Flo opened the door almost at once.
'You've been a long time,' she said as he entered, and then she saw that he was alone. She did not try to hide her fear and dismay. 'Has something gone wrong?'
'You could say that,' he answered curtly, as he closed the door. 'They went in all right. But when I went to pick 'em up the place was lousy with coppers. All watching me. They had the van spotted and they were waiting for me to lead 'em to the tickle.'
'So what did you do?'
'What could I do? I dumped the van in a back street and scarpered. There was no sense in leading the coppers straight to the boys.'
'What will they do?'
'When they find I'm not coming they'll slip out, I expect,' he said. He did not see that there was any need to make matters worse by telling this girl about the police cordon. She would wait for them, and they would not come. Well, that was her affair.
'Are you going to wait here for them?' she wanted to know.
'I am not. When they get back here they'll be ready to skin me alive. They won't believe me. They'll think I ratted.'
'Well, you did, didn't you? You could have nicked another car and gone for them with that.'
'Not a chance,' he said, and he told her then about the police cordon.
'So they'll be caught.'
/>
He shrugged. 'They've got as much chance as I had. I got through all right.'
'They'll be caught,' she repeated. 'What's going to happen to me?'
'You're a big girl now. And you've got some lolly, I expect.'
'I've got nowhere to go. Where are you going?'
'A place I know. I've just got to get something out of next door, then I'm off.'
Her expression and attitude changed. She looked at him askance, and her body swayed back a little from the hips. While he was still conscious of the need to go away from there, something stirred in him. She was lovely in her tight jeans and sweater. Cain was not there to play dog-in-the-manger.
'You needn't stick your belly out at me,' he said.
She moved then, smiling faintly. She was close to him, holding him and pressing against him. Her head was back, and she watched him through long eyelashes. Her lips moved. 'Take me with you,' she breathed.
He was tempted, undecided. He could enjoy this girl for a week at, say, Brighton, and then ditch her. He would have her now, at any rate, and make up his mind later. His fingers fumbled at the belt of her jeans. She did nothing to prevent the movement. 'Will you promise to take me with you?' she breathed.
'Sure, sure,' he said.
* * * * *
The noises of Cain's escape from Haddon and Walker's were heard, and their meaning was understood. A break-out with a vehicle was a development which always had to be taken into account, and the road blocks were designed to counter any such move. Nevertheless, before he saw any road block Cain saw the running figures of men, and on two occasions a man stood in front of the speeding lorry waving and shouting. Each time Cain drove on as if there were nobody in the way, and the men had to jump to safety. Behind him police whistles shrilled. Beside him Jolly was shouting encouragement, and even the dour Husker was mouthing excited utterances. Cain himself was silent, his face set. He did not yet know that his way would be blocked. He was going to get out of this situation. Nothing was going to stop him.
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