“Probably!” Bob nodded.
On the other wall, a row of coat hooks hung with a single tweed jacket, with a bowler hat sat above it. A large, dark-wood-framed mirror hung next to them. Below this was an umbrella stand, a single red brolly stood to attention, guarding the entrance.
Stepping through the doorway, showed a long narrow hall. It ran from the front of the house to the back, the stairs to the right about halfway along. There was a smell in the air of incense from a stick burning on a small ledge, which was a welcome relief from the stench outside. At the end of the hall, you could see through into the kitchen, out into a large conservatory, where a set of patio doors opened out onto a well-manicured garden.
Whilst they were peering around, a voice called from upstairs, the same one they had heard over the intercom, prompting them to go through to the kitchen. When they went in, they could see the garden. Lucy looked at Bob, he was standing with a face full of smile, as he appreciated a fellow gardener’s garden.
"Now that's nice!" Bob commented.
At the end of the property was a three-metre high wooden fence. A single strand of barbed wire ran along the top with a line of black paint just under it. “Keeps the druggies out," a voice behind them said, "but not their litter!” He must have seen the quizzical looks on the group's faces as they turned, and he added, “The garden backs on to the cemetery and they have all types going over there at night. All drinking and playing their music. Kids of today!" he said, raising his eyes to the ceiling. "They’ve got no respect or consideration for other people or their property.” Then he added as if he’d just remembered, “Or the dead!”
He introduced himself, holding out his hand, “I’m William, but you can call me Bill.”
Bill looked to be in his late seventies but still dressed like he was in the thirties - very smart and straight. He shook each one of their hands with a firm grip, then went and stood at the end of a large wooden table and asked them to sit.
“How's Mary?" he said, looking at Lucy. "I haven’t seen her for about…” he looked at the garden, then said, “It must be six months.”
“She’s fine,” Lucy replied. "Started a new job the other day at the local hairdressers.”
“Ah yes, she did mention something about getting a job. People will always want their hair cut. And that boy of hers, Greg, isn’t it?”
“Gary.”
“Gary, yes that’s it. I’m always getting that name wrong.”
“He starts school soon,” Lucy said, smiling.
He returned the smile, “They grow up so fast these days!”
Dave looked at Bill for a second, watched him studying them. “Obviously a test to make sure we are who we say we are. A bit more on the ball than I had given him credit for,” he thought.
Bill sat nodding, he had a smile on his face as if he was recalling fond memories. He looked at Bob. “So Mr Harris, how can I help you today?”
"Robert, but call me Bob."
"Bob," he nodded. "How can I help you?"
Bob took a matchbox out of his pocket and placed it on the table in front of him. Bill stared at the box for a second, then said, “Good security.”
“No one’s going to look in a matchbox.”
The others looked at Bob and nodded.
“He’s got a point,” Dave mused to himself.
“We!” Bob said, looking at Harry and Dave, “found these in the sand and we’d like to know how much they’re worth? And, if you're interested, would you buy them?”
“In the sand?” Bill said, raising his eyebrows, “Were you at a seaside, Bob?”
“It’s a long story, but yes, we did find them. But not in this country.”
When Bob mentioned they'd found them in a different country, Bill looked confused. He picked up the box and slid it open with his index finger. He smiled, and said, “You’ll have to stay for a cup of tea, you can then tell me all about these little stars.”
He placed the box on a small felt square, which he took out of a drawer built underneath the table. He took the box and lifted it, as if he was weighing it, he then opened the box again, not a single wrinkle on his face moved.
“I’d hate to play cards with him,” Dave thought. He glanced at the other three, they were smiling like Cheshire cats as the diamonds caught the light coming through the window, sending different coloured lights around the room like a parade of stars.
Bill took a small jeweller’s loupe out of his left-hand waistcoat pocket, put on a pair of white cotton gloves and picked up one of the stones. He spent a few moments turning it in his gloved fingers while looking through the eye-piece at them, he then did the same for the other three.
“Very nice! Mm. Top quality.” Without looking away from the eyeglass, he asked, “How many do you have?”
“A few more!” Bob replied. “How much are they worth Bill?”
“Ahhhh, the million dollar question, Bob. Well, they all have their own individual prices and this will be dependent on three factors: weight, colour and quality.”
He put the diamonds down on the cloth, then pushing his chair out he stood, turned and walked over to a cabinet at the other end of the room. He picked up a small wooden box and brought it back to the table, placing it down in front of the cloth.
Harry and Dave leant forward like excited kids trying to look down a wishing well, watching as Bill opened the box. He pulled out an ordinary set of digital scales.
They sat back, disappointed as he also took out another small container from inside the box and placed it next to the scales.
Before he put any diamonds on them, he tested the air temperature. Happy, he opened the smaller container and took a set of small brass-coloured weights and a set of silver-coloured weights out, laying them neatly on the table. He proceeded to test the scales with the weights. When he was satisfied they were set correctly, he weighed the four diamonds, one by one.
The four of them sat watching with great interest as he picked up each diamond and held it against a colour and size chart, then placed them, one at a time, on the scales. When he had finished, he placed the diamonds back on the felt in a straight line. He packed up his equipment and placed the box back on the cabinet. All this was done in complete silence.
He sat up straight and smiled, “This one,” he said pointing to the smallest, “is a high-quality piece at one point two zero carats, so about seven thousand pounds. This one also is a high-quality piece at one point two zero carats, so again about seven thousand pounds This one is a high-quality piece also, but at one point five zero carats, so about ten thousand pounds. But this one is a beauty, top quality and at two point zero carats is worth about seventeen thousand pounds.” He finished up, by saying, “Looking at what’s on the table, you have about forty-one thousand pounds. He let the news sink in for a few seconds, then asked again, “How many diamonds do you have?”
The four of them sat with their mouths open in total silence. Bill didn't comment, but he must have thought they looked like a bunch of idiots who’d just escaped from a local institution.
After a minute, Lucy said, “Nine hundred and ninety-seven altogether, all varying in size like these.”
Dave did a quick calculation, working on an average of one point five zero carats, then said out loud, “About ten million pounds!”
“In that case," Bill said. "Congratulations are in order. You are all very rich!”
Dave looked at the old man and thought, “is he the type to call the police as soon as we step outside the front door?”
Bill said something that changed Dave's mind. “I do detest having to fill out import and export forms, don’t you?”
“Never even seen one before," Bob smiled.
Bill looked at them all, smiled and said, “Now, that cup of tea I promised you. You can tell me all about these little beauties. We can chat about the details in a while.” As he got up to make the tea, he said, “So you say you found them, where did you say again?”
“We
haven’t yet,” Bob replied.
After talking for an hour and Bill making a few phone calls, it was decided they would come back in four days. Bill said a couple of his jeweller friends would then be there to meet and look at the diamonds. He also said it would take him that long to get his cash together, for what he wanted to buy anyway.
23
After chatting to Bill about the pictures in the hall, especially the signed oil painting of the Spitfire, with the signatures written along the bottom, they discovered that he was a pilot in WW11. His job was to deliver the fighters to the airfields once they'd come out of production, flight testing them on route.
Several cups of tea later and Bob called it a day. They thanked him for his time, confirming again that they’d see him in four days, then set off towards Fulham Palace Road to get a taxi.
As they walked down the street, Harry said, quietly, “Bob, the two blokes across the street.” He looked at Bob, and moving his eyes to the left, said, “Weren’t they the two outside the hotel this morning, at the bus stop?”
Bob walked on a few paces, then turned to look at them, they looked straight back at him, said something to each other, got into the car they were next to and drove off.
Bob went to cross the road but was too late, so he ran to the end of the road. When he got to the end, he turned left. Dave and Harry were close on his heels, realising what he was doing - he wanted to see if they had got stuck in traffic.
“Damn!” he shouted, watching the free flowing traffic. He stood looking up and down the road for a few minutes, waiting for Lucy to get her breath back, then said, “Okay, back to Bill’s house, we need to get things moving quickly.”
When they got back, the door was hanging off its hinges, someone had kicked the bottom in and it was in two pieces. They stood looking at the door, they'd only been gone five minutes.
Bob warned, “I’ll go first. Dave, follow me in but go to the right. Harry stay here and watch Lucy, okay?”
“Yep," he nodded
Lucy went to protest, but Harry put his finger to his lips and they both dropped back to the kerb.
Bob and Dave went forward, cautiously. They heard a groan from the kitchen where they'd left Bill just a few minutes before. Bob advanced, glancing up the stairs as he went.
When they got to the kitchen, Bill was lying on the floor, blood coming out of his shoulder, pooling around him dark and red. He’d been shot, a splatter of bone and blood decorated the wall behind where he’d been sitting.
Dave called Harry and Lucy in as Bob knelt next to Bill, holding his head up slightly. He saw that he had something in his hand, a piece of paper.
Bill looked up and said very quietly, struggling for breath, “Ring this number, they’ll buy your diamonds, don’t let those others get them.” Blood trickled out of the side of his mouth as his head slumped back and he went still.
After a few moments, Bob looked up, saw Lucy was crying and motioned for them all to leave.
When they got to the front, Bob stopped and pushed the others back. “Police, coming down the road with blue lights flashing, there’s already one stopping outside!”
Dave and Harry looked out over his shoulder and saw two men getting out of the first car, black flak jackets pulled over their uniforms, with POLICE written on them.
“We need another route out!” Bob said, to Harry.
“Over the fence and through the cemetery,” Harry suggested.
They turned and ran back through the house and out towards the back fence.
"Over the fence, jump," Bob told Lucy.
With panic rising in her voice, she gasped, “I’ll never get over it, Bobby. It’s too high!”
Harry and Dave leant their backs against the fence, then with their legs open, they cupped their hands out in front. Bob took his jacket off and threw it over the top to cover the wire.
"Watch Bob," Harry said.
Bob took a couple of paces back, ran and jumped, using their hands as a step up. He grabbed the top of the fence and pulled himself over in one go.
“Do the same as Bob, we’ll do the rest," Harry said.
She took two steps back and ran. They literally threw her over the fence.
Dave looked back at the house. He could see a man and a woman entering the conservatory, they had their weapons drawn.
The police saw the men at the fence and started shouting, "Stay where you are, keep your hands where we can see them!"
Dave turned and used Harry’s hands to get over next, then, standing on Bob’s shoulders he hung over the fence and Harry used him as a rope to climb over.
Bob shouted, “Run to the main gate!” He pointed over at the main road and Lucy started running first.
Dave was glancing back as they ran.
"Two: a man and a woman," he shouted. "It looks like the same two honeymooners who were in the hotel the other night."
They ran along the line of the trees that flowed through the centre of the cemetery, then cut across at an angle, running around and jumping the gravestones. Tripping a few times where the grass and shrubs were overgrown with brambles. Suddenly, with a loud sharp crack, a corner on one of the gravestones near to them splintered as a bullet buried itself into the weather-worn stone. Lucy let out a scream.
Bob encouraged her to look forward and run, “Look at the gate, Lucy, and run at it!”
Another shot rang out, and the top of another gravestone cracked and fell off. They picked up the pace, weaving as they ran towards the path that led to the open gate and out onto the main road. When they went through the gate, they walked out into the flow of traffic, much to the annoyance of the car drivers who started honking their horns. They crossed over the road to the path on the other side.
“Split up. Harry, Dave, we’ll see you back at the hotel. Lucy and I will go to the left, you two go to the right.”
Within seconds, a taxi came along. Harry stepped out in front of it, causing it to skid to a halt. The driver cursed, but Harry opened the door and they jumped in.
“Drive!” he shouted, at the driver. “We’ll give you the address in a moment.”
The driver stared at them, so Harry gave him twenty quid, he turned back in his seat and drove off.
They looked back at the cemetery gate and saw the two who’d been shooting at them holster their weapons and look up and down the street before they started talking into their phones.
Dave and Harry looked at each other and smiled, sat back and breathed.
“What the bloody hell just happened?” Harry said.
“Lucy was right, those two at the hotel, it was them, the honeymooners.”
“We can’t stay at the hotel too long, if at all. That’s where they’ll expect us to go.”
“Okay, when we get back we’ll recce it first, then go in if it’s clear.” Harry nodded.
They sat in silence the rest of the way to the hotel.
24
They stopped short of the hotel and approached on foot, keeping an eye on any cars that slowed down early or parked opposite the entrance with no one getting out.
“Either they guessed wrong about where we’d go," Dave said. "Or they haven’t regrouped yet.”
“You walk past, Dave, I’ll wait here till you come back.”
“Okay.”
Dave walked past the entrance at a normal pace, he took his jacket off and had it over his shoulder, just to change his appearance. He glanced at the door but didn’t see anyone, so he went forward to the end of the street, turned the corner, found a carrier bag in a bin, put his jacket in and walked back.
They entered the hotel and went straight up the stairs, not wanting to use the lift, this way they could spot anyone waiting in the stairwell and hear them entering below. They got to their suites, put some kit together and made their way out before the people chasing them reached the hotel. They found a spot opposite the entrance to watch from, hopefully without being seen, where they could sit and wait for Bob and Lucy to show.
They'd been sitting for nearly six hours and were seriously thinking about going to the police when a black SUV pulled up outside the hotel. Bob got out, minus Lucy. It then drove off and Bob walked in through the doors.
He looked rough, his clothes were torn and his normally immaculate hair was a mess. They waited for the SUV to disappear round the corner and then Dave went and got Bob.
He hadn’t got far, he was obviously struggling to walk, but even so, he was taking the stairs. When Dave got to him he looked a mess.
“They have Lucy and they'll kill her if you don’t come with me now.” His eyes were red and he had a look of fear on his face.
Dave turned him round and they left, crossing the road again to where they’d hidden out.
Bob explained, "We got round the corner from where we left you two when Lucy noticed a car following slowly behind us. I turned to look, just as two guys jumped out. We were told to get in the car but I told Lucy to run. One of them shot her with a dart! They blindfolded us and took us to a house. They said she’d be alright as long as we cooperated.”
As Dave and Harry stood in silence taking it all in, the black SUV that dropped Bob off a few minutes earlier pulled up in front of their hidey-hole. The front passenger window came down, and a voice said, “Get in!”
When they were seated, they were handcuffed, blindfolded, told to shut up, not to try anything, and to sit still. Harry started to move about as if he was fighting back. Dave heard a thump and Harry moaned, then there was a crackle and some sparks and it all went black.
25
Dave woke with a thumping headache, his mouth tasted like a camel had used it for its morning ablutions. He was sitting in a chair, arms tied together behind his back, still blindfold.
“Where the hell am I?” he thought.
“He’s awake," a voice said.
“Who’s that?” Dave asked, sitting up suddenly.
“We’ll ask the questions, soldier boy.”
Dave thought he was going to throw up, his head was spinning. “Where am I?” he repeated. Apart from a strange buzzing next to him, he couldn't hear anything.
Dave came to again, his whole body ached. His left arm felt as if it was burning. He started to struggle and kick but was punched in the gut, leaving him gasping for breath.
Scavenger Hunt Page 8