1958 - The World in My Pocket (20 page)

‘We’re fine, thanks,’ Ginny said. ‘There’s nothing.’

While Kitson scanned the headlines, Ginny went into the store.

The front pages of all the newspapers concentrated on the truck robbery. There were pictures of the truck and the guard and the driver. The Army headquarters were offering a thousand dollar reward for any information that would lead to the finding of the truck.

There was a hint from the police that the driver of the truck might be one of the members of the gang, since there was no trace of him.

While Kitson read, his mouth a little dry, Fred Bradford, the man who had offered help on the road up to Fawn Lake the previous day, came up to get his newspaper.

‘Hello there, Mr. Harrison,’ he said. ‘I see you’ve got your papers. Well, how do you like it here? Pretty good, huh?’

Kitson nodded.

‘It sure is.’

‘You reading about this truck robbery? I got it on the radio this morning. They seem to think the truck must be hidden in the woods around here. They’re organizing search parties. Every road is being checked from the air, and yet there’s still no sign of it.’

‘Yeah,’ Kitson said, folding the newspapers.

‘It slays me to think they could have kept it hidden even as long as this with so many guys hunting for it. Looks like the driver’s one of them, doesn’t it? That poor guard - what’s his name? Dirkson. Well, I reckon they should look after his widow.’

Hadfield, listening, said, ‘That smash was a fake so they say. It means a woman is working with the gang. The guard radioed back to the Agency just before he was killed. They’re checking on this guy Thomas, the driver, now to see if there was a woman in his life besides his wife.’

‘Well, I wouldn’t mind having the reward,’ Bradford said. ‘My kid says he’s going to take a walk through the woods. He kids himself he’ll find the truck.’ He laughed. ‘It’ll get him out of the way for a while. I’ve never known such a restless kid. He drives my good lady nuts.’

Hadfield shook his head.

‘They wouldn’t bring the truck here,’ he said. ‘There are too many people using these woods. I reckon if they’ve hidden it anywhere, it’ll be up at Fox Wood. Very few people get up there and it’s well off the beaten track.’

‘Yeah, but don’t tell my kid that,’ Bradford said. ‘That’s too far for him to go wandering off.’

Ginny came out of the store, carrying a sack of groceries.

‘Morning, Mrs. Harrison,’ Bradford said, lifting his hat. ‘So you got here all right?’

‘We got here,’ Ginny said smiling. She handed the sack to Kitson, then linked her arm through his, leaning against him, smiling at the two men who looked approvingly at her.

‘That’s the idea,’ Hadfield said. ‘Make use of your man, now you’ve got him. My wife says all a man is fit for is to carry parcels.’

Ginny looked up at Kitson.

‘I think you’re fit for many more things than carrying parcels, honey,’ she said.

As Kitson flushed, the two men laughed.

‘That’s what I like to hear,’ Hadfield said. ‘I’d like my good lady to hear that.’

‘Can we take a boat out, Mr. Hadfield?’ Ginny asked.

‘Why, sure. Just the right time now before it gets too hot. You know where the boat house is? You see Joe there. He’ll fix it for you.’

‘Well, then I guess we’ll get along,’ Ginny said.

Bradford said, ‘Any time you feel like a little company, Mr. Harrison, we’re at cabin 20; about a quarter of a mile from yours. Be glad to see you.’

Hadfield dug his elbow into Bradford’s ribs.

‘They’re on their honeymoon,’ he said. ‘Whose company do you imagine they want except their own?’

Laughing, Ginny tugged at Kitson’s arm, and they moved off down the path, arm-in-arm, her head against his shoulder.

The two men looked after them and then they glanced at each other a little ruefully.

‘I guess that guy is lucky,’ Hadfield said. ‘What a pretty thing she is! Between you and me, I wouldn’t mind changing places with him.’

Bradford grinned a little furtively.

‘No comment,’ he said, ‘but I know just what you mean.’

When Kitson and Ginny got back to the cabin, Ginny left the sack of groceries in the kitchen while Kitson, after making sure no one was around, tapped on the caravan window.

Red faced and sweating, Bleck pushed up the window.

‘What is it?’ he snarled. ‘Is it hot in here! The goddamn flies are driving us crazy! We can’t even leave this window open. What do you want?’

‘Got the papers for you,’ Kitson said and pushed the papers through the window. ‘Anything you want?’

‘No! Get the hell away from here!’ Bleck snapped and slammed down the window.

He went around to the back of the truck where Gypo sat on a stool they had taken from the cabin, his ear pressed to the door of the truck, his fingers on the dial.

The heat in the caravan was insufferable, and Bleck had stripped off his coat and shirt; his hairy chest was running with sweat.

He watched Gypo for a few seconds, then shrugging, he sat on the floor and began to read the papers. A half an hour later, he threw the papers aside, and got up to see how Gypo was getting on.

Gypo sat still, his face congested, his eyes closed, listening intently, his fingers just moving the dial.

‘Sweet suffering Pete!’ Bleck exploded. ‘Do you reckon to do that for the next ten days?’

Gypo started and opened his eyes.

‘Be quiet!’ he said angrily. ‘How can I work if you keep talking?’

‘If I don’t get some air soon I’ll bust a gut,’ Bleck said, wiping his face with the back of his hand. ‘Look, can’t we fix this curtain to keep the flies out and open the window?’

‘You fix it,’ Gypo said. ‘If you want me to open this truck, leave me alone.’

Bleck glared at him, then he went to the tool cupboard and took out a box of thumb tacks and a hammer. He nailed the curtain tightly to the window frame, then raised the window through the curtain.

He looked out on to the stretch of lake, seeing Ginny and Kitson embarking in a rowing boat. A spurt of jealous anger ran through him as Kitson rowed the boat away from the landing stage.

‘That bum’s got it easy!’ he burst out. ‘I should have had that job! There he goes.’

Gypo put his head around the side of the truck.

‘Will you pipe down!’ he said shrilly. ‘How can I work?’

‘Okay, okay, okay,’ Bleck snarled. ‘Quit yelling at me!’

Gypo wiped his aching fingers on the seat of his trousers and stared at the dial. So far he hadn’t heard one tumbler fall into place. He could sit there, he thought, despairingly, turning the dial for days without getting anywhere: maybe he’d never get anywhere.

‘I’ve got to take a rest, I haven’t any more feeling in my hand.’

He came and stood by the open window, drawing in deep breaths of the fresh air that was now beginning to circulate in the caravan.

‘Isn’t there any other way of opening it?’ Bleck demanded, his eyes still on the boat that was now moving through the water quickly under Kitson’s powerful strokes.

‘I told Frank it would be tough,’ Gypo said. ‘Maybe I’ll never open it.’

‘Yeah?’ Bleck stared at him. ‘You’d better open it, Gypo. You hear me? You’d better open it.’

The menacing gleam in his eyes made Gypo flinch.

‘I can’t work miracles,’ he muttered. ‘Maybe no one can open it.’

‘You’d better work a miracle,’ Bleck said savagely. ‘Go on! Get going! The longer you work at it, the quicker you’ll be! Get going!’

Gypo went back to the dial, sat down, pressed his ear to the door and began once more to move the dial, listening for a tumbler to fall.

By dusk, Gypo was exhausted. He sat on the stool, leaning against the door, making no attempt to move the dial. Seeing the distress on his face and how haggard he looked, Bleck let him alone.

Gypo had had only an hour’s break in twelve long, hot hours.

He had succeeded in dropping one of the tumblers, and he guessed he had at least another five to find. But he had made a start, and Bleck was feeling more optimistic. Maybe Gypo would find two of the tumblers tomorrow. Maybe they would have the door open by the end of the week.

When it was dark enough, Kitson let them out and they hurried over to the cabin.

Ginny had prepared a meal of pork tenderloins with sweet potatoes and she had baked an apple pie. The men ate hungrily. Every now and then Bleck shot a scowling glance at Kitson. It infuriated him to see Kitson’s face was sunburned, underlining the fact that he had been out in the open all day.

Gypo brightened when he saw what was on his plate, and he ate with gusto. Towards the end of the meal, his fat face lost its look of fatigue and resigned hopelessness.

The meal over, Bleck moved to an armchair, lit a cigarette and looked at the other three.

‘Well, we’ve made some progress today,’ he said. ‘From now on one of us has to stay with the caravan every night. We can’t take the risk of someone seeing the caravan and taking a look through the window or trying to break in. This’ll be your job, Kitson. You’re having it pretty soft during the day. You can have it a little rough during the night.’

Kitson shrugged. He didn’t care.

This day had been a good one for him. Ginny had shown signs of relaxing with him. Although they had kept to impersonal topics she seemed ready to talk to him and she was much less hard. He had rowed her around the lake during the morning and had taken her swimming during the afternoon.

Whenever they met anyone, she always slipped her arm through his, and this pleased him.

During the afternoon when they had been lying side by side in the sun, after a swim, he in trunks and she in a one-piece white costume, she had suddenly moved over to him and had rested her face against his shoulder, her arm across his chest, and for a moment he had thought he had succeeded in breaking down her final reserve only to realize that two other people had come down on to the beach and seeing them lying like that had moved away, leaving them on their own.

He had been careful not to move, hoping she would remain like that, but of course she hadn’t. As soon as the two had gone, she lifted her head and looked at him.

‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I didn’t mean to embarrass you.’

‘You didn’t,’ Kitson said. ‘I liked it.’

She laughed, sitting up.

‘I dare say you did. I’m going to have another swim,’ and jumping to her feet, she ran down to the lake side.

Kitson remained where he was, watching her.

Yes, she was relaxing with him all right. He felt then for the first time that he might have a chance with her. He realized this request of Bleck’s for him to guard the caravan at night was a reasonable one. Anyone snooping around in the dark and taking it into his head to break into the caravan could blow their whole plan sky high.

‘Okay,’ he said, pushing back his chair, ‘I’ll get out there now.’

Expecting opposition and surprised, Bleck watched him leave. When the door shut behind him, Bleck said, ‘Suppose Gypo and me have the beds, baby, and you use the settee? We are the ones doing the work and we need our sleep. That okay with you?’

Ginny shrugged indifferently.

‘Oh, sure.’

Bleck stared at her.

‘Unless maybe Gypo takes the settee.’

Ginny looked up sharply.

‘I’ll take the settee, thank you,’ she said curtly.

Bleck grinned.

‘Suit yourself.’ He got up and took a deck of cards from the overmantel and began to shuffle the cards. ‘Want a game of gin?’

‘No,’ Ginny said. ‘I’m going for a walk. I’d like this room when I get back.’

Sensing what was in the air, Gypo watched and listened uneasily.

‘Sure,’ Bleck said, still grinning. ‘Hey, Gypo, let’s you and me go into the bedroom. We can use the bed for a table.’

Gypo got up and went into the bedroom.

‘It’s all yours, baby,’ Bleck said. ‘How did you enjoy your day with the plough boy? Fallen for him yet?’

Ginny leaned back in her chair, her eyes contemptuous.

‘Is that what I’m supposed to do?’

‘Well, you never know. I suppose there must be a few girls who would fall for him. He’s fallen for you.’

She got up and walked over to the cabin door.

Bleck eyed her.

‘You and me, baby, could make a team. Why not think about it?’ he said as she opened the door.

‘Oh, drop dead,’ she said without even bothering to look at him. She went out into the darkness and closed the door after her. An ugly gleam in his eyes, Bleck hesitated. He wanted to go after her and teach her she couldn’t talk that way to him, but he knew Kitson would come out of the caravan, and he wasn’t ready yet for a show down with him.

Shrugging angrily, he went into the bedroom where Gypo was sitting on the bed, nervously clenching and unclenching his hands.

‘Look, Ed,’ he said, ‘lay off the girl. We’ve got enough trouble without having woman trouble as well.’

‘Aw, shut up!’ Bleck snarled, and sitting on the bed, he began to deal the cards.

Around eleven o’clock, they heard Ginny come in, and after a few minutes, the shower running.

Bleck crushed out his cigarette and scooped up the cards on the bed.

‘We’ll hit the sack,’ he said. ‘We should be out in that box before light.’

Gypo was ready enough for bed, and within ten minutes, the light out, he began to snore.

Bleck lay staring into the darkness, listening. He could hear Ginny moving about in the sitting room, then after a few minutes he heard the light switch click off.

Bleck believed in direct methods when dealing with women.

The gradual approach was in his opinion a waste of time.

He threw aside the sheet, slid silently out of bed, and went to the bedroom door. He paused to satisfy himself that Gypo was heavily asleep, then he turned the door handle gently, stepped into the dark sitting room, then closed the bedroom door behind him.

Almost immediately the light went on, and Ginny half sat up.

She was wearing pale blue pyjamas and she looked very desirable to Bleck, who grinned at her as he walked across the room and paused by the side of the settee, looking down at her.

‘I thought I’d keep you company, baby,’ he said. ‘Move over.’