Bagley, Desmond - The Freedom Trap

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by The Freedom Trap


  I felt my stomach muscles tense. 'Had an offer?'

  'I been approached,' he admitted. 'If you're still interested it could go further.'

  'I'm bloody interested. I've had enough of this.'

  'Fifteen months!' he scoffed. 'That's nothing. But have you got the lolly? That's important."

  'How much?'

  'Five thousand nicker and that's just a starter,' said Johnny. 'It's to be put up before anything happens -- before they even think about getting you out.'

  'Christ! That's a lot of money.'

  'I been told to tell you that this is the expense money -- and it's non-returnable. The real payment will be more than that.'

  'How much?"

  'I dunno. That's all I been told. They want to know how soon you can spring the five thousand quid.'

  'I can get it,' I said. 'I have funds tucked away in South Africa that no one knows about.' I looked along the exercise yard. Hudson was at the bottom end, making his way up slowly. 'I'll want a cheque form on the Standard Bank of South Africa, Hospital Hill Branch, Johannesburg. Got that?"

  He repeated it slowly, then nodded. 'I got it.'

  'I'll sign it, and they cash it. It'll have to be cashed in South Africa. That shouldn't be too difficult.'

  'It'll take some time, mate,' said Johnny.

  I laughed humourlessly. 'I've got nineteen years. But tell them to hurry. I'm getting nervous about being moved out of here.'

  'Watch it -- here's Hudson," Johnny said. 'You'll be contacted.' He ran forward and intercepted the football and both he and I joined in the game.

  The cheque form came ten days later. A new arrival brought it in and it was passed to me surreptitiously. 'I was told to give you this. Pass it to Sherwin when you've done with it."

  I knew Sherwin; he was due for release, I said quickly, "Wait a minute; anything else?'

  'I don't know nothing else,' the man muttered, and shuffled away.

  That night I settled my correspondence course books on the table and started work as usual. I'd been plugging away at the Russian and I reckoned I was pretty good -- my pronunciation had improved vastly since Slade's arrival although that makes no difference to the examiner's marks in a correspondence course. I carried on for half an hour and then dug out the cheque form and smoothed it out.

  It had been quite a while since I'd seen that familiar sight, and I could almost smell the dust blowing off the Johannesburg mine dumps. The amount had been filled in-R10,000-Ten Thousand Rand -- and I thought the mob was laying it on a bit thick; since devaluation the value of the pound sterling had deteriorated relative to the Rand, and this cheque was for about £5,650. The payee line was blank -1 wasn't supposed to know about that yet, and when I did find out it would be too late to do anything about it.

  I filled in the date and added my signature -- and it wasn't J. A. Rearden, either-then stuck the cheque between the pages of the Russian grammar, wondering if I was a wise man or the prize chump of all time. Someone could be conning me -- it could even be Johnny Swift -- and if he was I was over £5,000 in the red and all for nothing. But I had to rely on cupidity; if it was realized that there was more loot where that came from then someone would be back for more, but this time it would be payment by results -- after the results had been achieved.

  Next morning I passed the cheque on to Sherwin who palmed it expertly and I knew he wouldn't have any trouble in getting it out unseen. Sherwin was a card sharp and no one in 'C' Hall would dream of playing nap with him; he could make a deck of cards sit up and talk, and concealing a cheque would be no trouble at all.

  Then I settled down to wait, wondering what expenses the mob would have that could run to five thousand quid.

  The weeks went by and again nothing happened. I had figured out the time needed to cash the cheque and get word back to England and had estimated it at just over a week. When five long weeks had gone by without result I began to get edgy.

  Then it broke very suddenly.

  It was at free association time. Smeaton was giving me a minor dressing down for a small infraction; I'd not been cleaning up as well as I should have done -- a sign that I was slipping. Cosgrove came up carrying a chess board. He waited until Smeaton had finished, then said, 'Cheer up, Rearden; what about a game?'

  I knew Cosgrove; he'd been the brains behind a hi-jacking mob -- cigarettes and whisky mostly -- and someone had squealed on him and he'd been pulled in and got ten years. He was in his sixth year and, with a bit of luck, he'd be out in another two. He was also the 'C Hall chess champion, a very astute and intelligent man.

  I said abstractedly, 'Not today, Cossie.'

  He glanced sideways at Smeaton who was standing two paces away. 'Don't you want to win out?'

  'Win out?' I said sharply.

  'The big tournament.' He held up a box of chessmen. 'I'm sure I can give you a few tips if you play with me.'

  We found a table at the other end of the Hall away from Smeaton. As we set out the pieces I said, 'Okay, what is this, Cossie?'

  He put down a pawn. 'I'm your go-between. You speak to me and no one else. Understand?' I nodded briefly and he carried on. 'To begin with I'm going to talk money.'

  'Then you can stop right now,' I said. 'Your mob already has over five thousand quid of mine, and I've yet to see a result.'

  'You're seeing me, aren't you?' He looked around. 'Play chess -- it's your first move.' I moved to QP3 and he laughed softly. 'You're a cautious man, Rearden; that's a piano opening.'

  'Quit being subtle, Cossie. Say what you have to say.'

  'I don't blame you for being cautious,' he said. 'All I'm saying is that it's going to cost you a hell of a lot more.'

  'Not before I'm out of here,' I said. 'I'm not that much of a sucker.'

  'I don't blame you,' said Cossie. 'It's like taking a jump in the dark. But the fact is we've got to talk money or the deal's off. We've both got to know where we stand.'

  'All right. How much?'

  He moved his king's knight. 'We're a bit like tax collectors -we take pro rata. You made a killing of £173,000. We want half -- that's £86,500.'

  'Don't be a bloody fool,' I said. 'There are too many things wrong with that calculation and you know it.'

  'Such as?'

  'There was only supposed to be £120,000 in that parcel. I think the owners were laying it on a bit.'

  He nodded. 'Could be. Anything else?"

  'Yes. Do you suppose we could sell for the full value? It's not like selling legitimate -- you ought to know that more than anyone.'

  'Play chess,' he said calmly. 'That screw's watching us. You could sell for full value with uncut diamonds if you were clever enough and I think you are clever. That wasn't a stupid job you pulled. You'd have got clean away if you hadn't been shopped.'

  'They weren't uncut diamonds," I said. 'They'd been cut in Amsterdam and were being brought back for setting. Diamonds of that value are X-rayed, photographed and registered. They've been recut and that means a hell of a drop in value. And another thing -1 wasn't alone. I had a mate who's in on a fifty-fifty split. He planned it and I did it."

  The boys were wondering about that,' said Cossie. 'They can't quite make you out. Did your mate shop you? Because if he did you've not got a bean, have you? And that means you're no good to us.'

  'It wasn't my mate,' I said, hoping to make it stick.

  'The buzz is going around that it was your mate."

  The buzz couldn't have been started by a busy called Forbes -- or another called Brunskill? They have their reasons, you know.'

  'Could be,' he said thoughtfully. 'Who is your mate?'

  'Nothing doing,' I said firmly. 'I didn't give him to the busies, and I'm not giving him to your mob. That, in itself, ought to prove he didn't shop me. My friend and I move along very quietly; we mind our business and we don't want anyone else minding it for us.'

  'We'll let that one lie for a bit,' said Cossie. 'I'll put it to the boys. But that brings us back to the boodle -- w
hat was your take?'

  'We estimated it at forty thousand nicker," I said calmly. 'And it's out away safely. You get it through me -- not my mate.'

  He smiled slightly. 'In a Swiss numbered account?'

  That's right. It's quite safe.'

  'So it's still half,' he said. Twenty years at a thousand a year -- cheap at half price. We take you over the wall and deliver you outside the United Kingdom, and if you come back that's your trouble. But let me tell you something -- you'd better not welsh on us; you'd better have the boodle for us because, if you don't, nobody will ever hear of you again. I hope that's quite clear.'

  'It's very clear,' I said. 'You get me out of here and you'll get your money. I'll still be up on the deal, anyway.'

  'I'll put it up to the boys,' he said. 'It's up to them whether you're accepted as a client.'

  I said, 'Cossie, if your mob is as good as you say it is, what the hell are you doing in here? That puzzles me.'

  'I'm just the contact man,' he said. 'I was recruited in here. Besides, I only have another two years' bird, then I'm out, anyway. Why make trouble for myself? I've got a good business waiting for me outside and I'm not going to throw that away.' He looked up. 'It'd be dicey for you if you came back to England.'

  'That doesn't trouble me,' I said. 'I was only on the loose for a week in England -1 know nothing about the place and I don't care to know any more.'

  Cossie moved a piece. 'Check. There's another thing. You've been matey with Slade lately, haven't you? You do a lot of talking together.'

  'He's helping me with my Russian,' I said, moving my king. 'That stops,' said Cossie flatly. 'You keep clear of Slade or the deal's off no matter how much money you have.' I looked up, startled. 'What the hell . . .'

  'That's the way it is,' he said equably, and moved his bishop. 'Check!'

  'Don't tell me your mob is patriotic,' I said, and laughed. 'What's the idea?'

  Cossie gave me a pained look. 'You ought to know better than to ask questions. You just do as you're told.' He turned to Smeaton who was walking past. 'What do you know?' he said. 'Rearden nearly beat me.' And that was a damned lie. 'He's got a good chance in the tournament.'

  Smeaton looked at him with expressionless eyes and moved on.

  Ill So the game was on. I felt the tension rising in me and this time it was the tension of hope and not hopelessness. I even began to sing a bit as I scrubbed the tables in the Hall and I didn't slip up on a thing. Smeaton looked on me with approval, or as near to it as he could show. I was proving to be a model prisoner.

  I obeyed Cosgrove's orders and dropped Slade who glanced at me reproachfully from time to time. I didn't know why Cossie wanted me to do that but this wasn't the time to argue it out. All the same, I felt a bit sorry for Slade; he hadn't too many friends in this nick.

  I kept my eye on Cosgrove unobtrusively and watched who he talked to and who his pals were. As far as I could see he was as relaxed as usual and there were no changes in his normal pattern, but since I hadn't studied him especially before it was difficult to tell.

  After a couple of weeks I went up to him during free association time. 'What about a game of chess, Cossie?'

  He looked at me with blank eyes. 'Keep away from me, you silly bastard. I don't want to be involved with you.'

  'You are involved,' I snapped. 'Smeaton was just asking if I wasn't going to enter the chess tournament, after all. He wanted to know if I'd given up my lessons. He also wanted to know if I'd given up Russian.' Cosgrove blinked. 'Okay,' he said. 'Let's go over there.' We set up the board. 'Any news?'

  'I'll tell you when there's any news.' He was in a bad temper.

  'Look, Cossie; I'm worried,' I said. 'I've just heard that the top security nick is finished -- the one on Wight. I'm scared of being transferred. It could happen any time.'

  He looked around the Hall. 'These things can't be rushed -it's a complicated set-up. What do you suppose you've paid five thousand quid for? Just a jump over a wall? There's a whole escape line to be laid on.' He moved a chess piece. 'I don't know much about that side of it, but I hear it's a different set-up every time. No pattern, see? You ought to know that, Rearden, of all people.'

  I stared at him. 'I see someone's been checking up on me." He looked at me with cold eyes. 'What do you think? A part of that five thousand nicker went towards checking you out. The boys are very security-minded. You have an interesting record; I can't see why you slipped up this time.'

  'It happens to all of us,' I said. 'I was shopped -- same as you, Cossie.'

  'But 1 know who shopped me,' he said savagely. 'And the bastard is going to regret it to his dying day once I get out of here.'

  'Better have it done before you get out,' I advised. 'You have the perfect alibi -- you're in the nick; and enough time has gone by so that the busies aren't likely to think of you.'

  He smiled reluctantly. 'You have interesting ideas, Rearden.'

  'And what makes you think I don't know who shopped me?' I asked. 'Trouble is I don't have contacts on the outside to arrange an accident.'

  'I can arrange it,' he offered.

  'Forget it. I'll be out myself soon enough if your mob comes up to scratch. So they had me investigated in South Africa, did they? I hope they were satisfied.'

  'You passed. You've got some good friends out there.' Smeaton was passing close by. Cossie said, 'Not that move, stupid; it gives me mate in three moves.' He looked up at Smeaton. 'He's not as good as I thought he was; he'll never make it in the tournament.''

  Smeaton sneered at him without moving a muscle of his face.

  IV Cossie was right -1 didn't make it in the tournament -- but it wasn't because of my lousy chess. Two days later he came to me instead of vice versa. 'It's set up.'

  'They changed my cell yesterday,' I said.

  'Doesn't matter. You'll be taken out in daylight -- from the exercise yard on Saturday. Three o'clock exactly -- remember that.'

  There was a sudden tightening in my belly. 'What's the drill?'

  'Have you ever seen them putting up the Christmas lights in Regent Street?' Cossie asked. He snapped his fingers in annoyance. 'Of course, you haven't. Anyway, they have this truck, see, with a platform on a long articulated arm -- to hoist up the electricians."

  'I know what you mean,' I said. They use them at Jan Smuts Airport at Jo'burg to service the big jets. They call them cherry-pickers.'

  'Do they?' he said interestedly. 'I see why they might. Anyway, there'll be one of those coming over the wall on Saturday. I'll show you where to stand, and when it comes over you jump in quick. There'll be a bloke on the platform to help you, and you'll be out in two ticks. That's going over the wall in style.'

  He turned to survey the Hall, then continued rapidly. 'There'll be a hell of a lot of other things going on at the same time, but you won't take any notice of all that. Just keep your mind on the big platform."

  'Okay,' I said.

  'And I've been asked to tell you something -- if you're taken out and you can't find the twenty thousand quid, then God help you because no one else will. You'll not live to regret it -and that's not a slip of the tongue. I was specially asked to tell you that in case you want to change your mind.'

  'The mob will get its money,' I said shortly.

  'All right; I'll see you on Saturday then.' He turned away, then paused and turned back. 'Oh, I nearly forgot,' he said casually. Someone else is going with you. and you're going to help him.'

  'Who?'

  Cosgrove looked at me blandly. 'Slade!'

  CHAPTER FOUR

  I stared at Cosgrove unbelievingly. 'Are you out of your mind?'

  'What's the matter?' he asked. 'Don't you believe in freedom for others?'

  'The matter I' My voice rose. "The man walks with sticks, Cossie. He's a bloody cripple.'

  'Keep your voice down,' he warned.

  In a low voice I said savagely, 'How in hell is Slade supposed to make a br eak for it? He can't run.'

  'You'll b
e there to help him, won't you?' said Cosgrove smoothly.

  'Like hell I will.'

  'Well, I'll tell you something, Rearden. Those sticks of his are a bit of a fake -- he's been putting it on a bit ever since he came out of hospital. He can run well enough. Oh, I don't say he could break the four-minute mile, but he can toddle along enough for what we want.'

  'Then he can bloody well toddle along by himself,' I said forcibly. 'Christ, if he obstructs my escape and I'm nabbed, I'll spend six months in solitary -- and I'd certainly be sent to the new nick in Wight or to "E" Wing in Durham. I'd never get out of there.'

  'The same applies to Slade,' said Cosgrove easily. 'And don't forget he's in for over forty years.' His voice tautened and a rasp entered into it. 'Now you listen to me, Rearden; Slade is a bloody sight more important to us than you are. You wouldn't believe how much money we have riding on him. So you'll bloody well do as you're told. As for going to 'Durham, you're due to be transferred there on Sunday, anyway.'

  'Oh, boy!' I said. 'You play rough."

  'What's the matter? Is it that Slade is a spy? Has a sudden wave of patriotism overcome you?'

  'Hell, no! I wouldn't care if he's inside for kidnapping the Queen, the Prime Minister and whole damned Cabinet. It's just that he's going to be a flaming liability.'

  Cosgrove assumed a placatory tone. 'Well, now, maybe we can compensate you for that. Our agreement is that when we get you out then you pay us twenty thousand quid. Right?'

  I nodded wearily. 'Right.'

  'Suppose we cut that in half and make it ten thou'. With the live body of Slade as makeweight for the other ten thou'. How would you feel about that?'

  'It has its points,' I conceded.

  'I don't think it's at all bad considering you're going to be lumbered with Slade anyway,' said Cosgrove.

  'Do you have authority for that offer?' I asked suspiciously.

  'Of course I have,' he said, and smiled thinly. 'Of course, it has its converse side. If you get over the wall and Slade doesn't, then you get the chop. That's just so you remember that Slade is more important than you are.'

 

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