trembled.
"Don't worry, we'll get out." Richard didn't sound too convinced.
He tiptoed over and tried the door handle, more in hope than expectation. His expectations weren't exceeded - the door was securely locked.
"Do you think they heard us?" Thomas asked. "Or did they just forget to lock up?"
Richard came back to the desk. "The phones. Try the phones." He picked one up and listened. Then he pressed the rest a couple of times. "Nothing."
Henrietta picked up the other phone. She put it to her ear, then shook her head. "They've cut the lines."
"Or just turned off the switchboard." Thomas was always practical. He began to prowl the office looking for a way out.
Henrietta bit her bottom lip. "They had guns. They were shooting people. Richard, I'm scared. I don't mind admitting it. I'm scared."
"We're all scared Hal." Thomas tried to make his voice sound normal. "Look, it's only an office. There's got to be some way out. Lets search everywhere." He shivered and stood up. "Fancy trying the ceiling tiles again?"
Richard repeated his performance with the chair on the desk, but this time he didn't wince when the tile screeched against the support. He shone his torch into the hole. "Not much use, I don't think. There's not a lot of clearance between the ceiling and the roof. And the walls seem to go all the way up."
"What about the air conditioning trunking?" suggested Thomas. "You see people crawling through the trunking in the movies."
"What air conditioning trunking?" asked Richard, pointing at the split unit mounted on the wall of the office.
An hour later they were still no nearer finding a way out. Richard and Thomas were poking around in the filing cabinets looking for something more useful than a list of names and flight numbers; Henrietta was curled up under one of the desks having a snooze. She was dreaming about being bound and gagged and tied to a power saw bench. The blade was coming nearer and nearer. It bit into her shoulder...
She woke up and the blade was still cutting into her.
"Hal. Hal! Wake up!" Richard was shaking her shoulder roughly in his excitement.
"Aaah! What is it?" She sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes.
"Got it!" Thomas held a large piece of paper in front of her. "The master plan."
"Uh?" She shook herself fully awake.
"Look! A map of the attack. Roads and vans and things, all marked. Look here; getaway van!"
Henrietta's eyes opened wide, and held out her hand for the map. "It's to 'all personnel, Shazam'," she read. "Friday 24th. The day after tomorrow. That's what they said. And 0930 hours, Sime Road!"
"We've got to get out," said Thomas. "We've just got to get out. We've got to get this to the police.
"Henrietta held her head in her hands. "This is stupid. There must be some way out."
Richard rattled the door handle. "Why don't we just break down the door?" He backed off a couple of paces and hurled himself at the door.
He made quite a noise, but no real impression on the door. He tried a couple more times, then gave up. "Trouble is, this door opens inwards. If it opened outwards I'd have done it. Easy!" He sat down, rubbing his shoulder ruefully.
"Never mind, Ricky, it was worth a try." Henrietta's voice trailed off as she realised they were really trapped.
Thomas hadn't been watching this performance. He'd been staring into space. Now he sat up. "I saw this movie once -"
"Oh not again, Tee!"
"No, really. Anyway, this was how these blokes got out when they'd been locked in. First of all, it only works if the key's in the door." Thomas went across to check.
"If the key was in the door, we'd turn it and get out." Richard wasn't much more cheerful than Henrietta.
"On the other side I mean. Yes, it's there! Now we want a large bit of paper."
Richard produced an old newspaper he'd found in the desk drawers. "Will this do?"
"Perfect."
Thomas pushed it under the door so most of it was in the corridor, then pushed gently at the key with a pencil.
"Too fat. Where's that paper clip?"
Henrietta passed it to him and came to watch over his shoulder. He prodded at the keyhole and after a few seconds there was a soft clunk. Thomas pulled the newspaper back under the door, and in the middle of the page, right on top of the television listings, was the key!
"Tee. You are an okay guy, you know that?" Richard patted him on the shoulder.
Henrietta hugged him and would have kissed him if he hadn't squirmed away in embarrassment.
"Right, okay. No sweat. Lets get out of here."
The journey back down the stairs, and through the ladies lavatory window was accomplished with no problems whatever. Simpson was waiting dutifully by the pile of cans and they made a huge fuss of him. Richard promised to buy the beagle a huge marrow bone with his next pocket money.
They tiptoed to the corner and peered round. They needn't have bothered with the caution; the night watchman was snoring away as soundly as ever. He looked as if he hadn't moved the whole night.
They padlocked the gate after them and ran to their bikes.
"Right!" said Henrietta. "We've got proof now. Straight to the police?"
Thomas thought about it for a moment. "I think the morning might be best. I mean the boss policemen will be there then, and I reckon we all need a bit of sleep."
"I don't," said Henrietta. "I need a lot of sleep. About twenty-four hours should be enough. What a day!"
"Double that for me," said Richard. "You got the map, Hal?"
"Right here in my pocket." She patted her jeans.
They agreed to meet at nine the next morning and pedalled off in silence. They were all very tired by the time they reached home. Henrietta climbed in through her bedroom window, hauled Simpson up after her, and went straight to bed. She slept like the proverbial log. She didn't even wake up when her mother came in and took her clothes away to wash them. Including the jeans with the map in the pocket!
1.Chapter Eleven
The policeman poked tentatively at the whitish lump of congealed cardboard on the station desk. "And that's it, is it?"
Henrietta smiled wanly. "Yes. Sorry. It sort of got washed."
"And this is the map you drew from memory." He pulled a piece of paper towards him.
"Yes. I'm pretty sure it's accurate."
"It's very detailed," said Thomas.
Richard moved forward. "There were other copies there. All you've got to do is raid the place and you'll have a new one."
"Thank you. But I think it's rather unlikely that the inspector will decide to mount a raid."
"No raid?" Thomas's voice went up in pitch. "It's a hold-up of an armoured car, and you can prevent it."
"I've noted what you told me, and the inspector will decide what to do from here."
"All you have to do is send a car to the factory and -"
"There will be no hold-up. There can't be a hold-up. We'd be notified of any shipment of bullion or notes as large as thirty million. None of the banks is moving that sort of money tomorrow morning. Moreover, none uses the road you indicated."
"But we heard them. The thieves. They were -"
"Now look here, young man." The policeman stood up. "The doctor's report on this lady here says she had a nasty bang on the head. She reported a robbery. We investigated and found nothing. Now you tell me it's a future robbery. Now I know young people like watching cops and robbers films, but you've got to realise the difference between them and real life." He relaxed a little. "My advice to you is to go home and read a nice book or something. You're lucky the inspector isn't here right now or he'd run you in for wasting police time!"
The trio looked at him, then, without a word, turned and filed out of the building.
"Well, that's that," said Richard, kicking at a large yellow leaf.
Thomas shook his head "We could go to the insurance company."
"If we knew which van, and which insurance company."
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"Or to the Straits Times."
"Huh!"
"The bank, then."
"But which bank?"
"Well maybe we can find out," said Henrietta. "We could telephone them all and ask them." She didn't seem too convinced of her own argument.
"Oh yes." Richard shook his head. "They'd be bound to tell every caller exactly when they're going to shift thirty million about. And that policeman says there is no van going down there tomorrow."
They walked on to where their bikes were chained to a fence.
"I saw this..." Thomas broke off. "I've thought of something. Maybe it's not a bank."
The others looked at him.
"I mean maybe it's not a usual bank shipment. What if it's maybe the central bank sending old notes to be incinerated? Something like that."
"Yes!" Henrietta beamed.
"Tee, old Tee." Richard patted him on the back. "Sometimes you are a complete walking, inspired computer brain. "That must be it!"
"But." Thomas looked troubled. "Even if it is. What can we do about it?"
The other's faces fell.
"Oh I'm sick of this!" Richard suddenly punched his saddle. "We're just getting lost in things that don't concern us. It was past four when I got to bed, and now the police don't want to know and ... oh, I'm fed up."
"We can't just give up now." Henrietta pressed. "I've still got my ten dollars left for working for those thieves. As long as it's not stolen money, I'm for spending it on some thinking food."
Richard was scandalised. "You promised to give that money to the scouts if I put on that..." He tailed off. "Anyway, you promised."
"If you put on what?" Thomas wanted to know.
"Oh, nothing."
Henrietta took Richard's arm.
The Further Adventures of Aardvark Jenkins Page 11