Give The Devil His Due (35 page)

       I looked at Phil. His expression said ‘Fucking stroll-on, we've got a right one here!’.

       As I tried to digest the phenomenon of Ezekiel, there was a voice calling. A girl approached. As she came closer I could see she had also misplaced the soap. It was Miranda.

       ‘Ezekiel your food's ready.’ She was a Cockney, or at least from somewhere in the southeast.

       ‘Miranda, come and say hello to Marcel and his partner Austin.’

       Fuck me! Talk about jumping to conclusions. I looked at Phil. He had an expression of ‘Don't say anything’.

       Miranda was now by Ezekiel's side. He looked at her lovingly. ‘What are we having my sweet?’

       ‘I’ve used the mushrooms you picked this morning and made a lentil and field-mushroom soup, Ezekiel.’

       I couldn't resist asking. ‘What's Ronald having for his dinner?’

       ‘Ronald is a family member, and like us, has the same vegetarian beliefs. He will therefore be having the soup.’

       I was thinking What a ridiculous way to speak. And a vegetarian bull terrier? What a load of bollocks. I was in no doubt that if Ron had a choice between a nice juicy sirloin steak or Mandy’s lentil and mushy soup, it would be a no-brainer.

       Miranda looked at Ezekiel. ‘We’ve enough for Marcel and Austin if they want to join us for dinner.’

       Ezekiel turned and faced us. ‘Would you like to come to dinner? Sharing is a wonderful experience.’

       The way she asked him, rather than asking us direct, showed who was wearing the trousers (however dirty) in this relationship. And what was all that about sharing? I knew Ezekiel thought Phil and I were more than just good friends. Was he inviting us to a swingers’ party? It was time, as they say in those beer ads, to make a
sharp exit
.

       ‘Thanks Ezekiel, but we've got some urgent things to do on the boat.’ Ezekiel and Miranda gave us looks of disapproval. We walked on.

       We boarded
Betty
. Over another cup of tea, Phil couldn't wait to tell the others all about Zeke, Mandy and their dog – our new and rather eccentric neighbours. Peach was a little concerned.

       ‘You say he introduced himself as “your neighbour”, so he must have seen you coming off the boat or mooring-up. Did he mention seeing anyone else apart from you two?’

       ‘No,’ Phil answered.

       ‘Well that's good. We’ve got to try and keep it that way. Hopefully when the weather gets worse he'll stay inside and keep his curtains drawn.'

       I had a thought. ‘If you do bump into him Peach, whatever you do, don't call him Zeke. He doesn't like it. He might set Ronald on you!’ Peach didn’t look amused; he was obviously still suffering from the dog phobia.

       'And that's another thing. We're going to have to get past that bucket without disturbing Ron. So just in case any of you need reminding – a wide berth and complete silence, fifty yards either side of that boat.’ Everyone nodded agreement.

       Vaughan had decided that we would
go in
during the wee small hours. Any security staff we encountered would not be as alert, having been on duty for some time.

       The radio equipment Phil had brought had now been fully tested. Everyone would wear a headset allowing us to stay hands-free. We also had different call signs and code words for the robbery, the idea being that if anyone stumbled across our transmissions by accident they wouldn't have a clue what we were talking about – that was the theory anyway.

       Unless a specific team member was mentioned, any ‘to-all’ messages were to be answered by Vaughan. That way we wouldn't have several people trying to answer the initiator of a transmission. Only transmissions that were part of the operation were allowed. There were two reasons for this: to conserve battery power and, the less time we were on air, the more chance we had of our broadcasts remaining undetected by amateur radio hams.

***

It was just after 1 a.m. when Neil set off for the van. His call sign was
Caretaker
. Once he reached the van he would let us know. That would be our ‘go’ signal. He had taken along a rucksack with tubs of doctored meat prepared by Denise, and a silent dog whistle.

       Neil would make his way to the van and, as he did so, place the tubs at intervals along the boundary of the estate. He’d blow the whistle every time a tub was laid. The hope was that curiosity would get the better of the dogs and they’d try to locate the sound source, coming across the tubs of meat in the process.

       Before he left, I questioned Neil, ‘So what is this stuff you’re sticking down?’

       ‘Phenobarbitone.’ he answered.

       Vaughan nodded his head, as if endorsing the choice of drug.

       I looked at Vaughan. ‘Do you know anything about this?’

       Vaughan smiled. ‘It’s a sedative used to treat canine epilepsy.’

       ‘What if the dogs aren’t epileptics?’ I asked.

       Vaughan laughed at my question. I felt like a half-wit.

       Neil looked at me. ‘Epilepsy isn’t the issue. All you need to know is that it’ll do the job.’

       According to Neil, each tub contained 3 grams of phenobarbitone, powdered and mixed-in with the meat. It was so potent that any dog eating it would, after fifteen to twenty minutes, become so off-its-face, that the only thing the dog would be capable of was sleep.

       I had my reservations. What if a fox or another wild animal came across the meat and ate it before the dog had the chance? Neil said he remained supremely confident and not to worry.

       In addition to Neil, we would also be carrying containers, and be placing ours along our route to the Mansion House. I had wondered about the possibility of the dogs eating all the meat from every tub and overdosing. Neil told us this could not happen.

       ‘After they've had one load they won't be in the mood to go looking for another.’ He’d assured us it was pretty fast-acting stuff.

***

At around 2.25 a.m. our headsets received a signal. ‘Caretaker to all.’

       Vaughan responded. ‘Go ahead Caretaker.’

       ‘Caretaker on site,’ Neil answered.

       This was the message we’d been waiting for. ‘Thank you Caretaker. We’re on our way.’

Chapter 28

The night was rough, with the wind gusting hard. The good part about this was it would help disguise any noise we made. I just hoped that the dogs would hear Neil’s silent whistle.

       Peach and Phil got the trolley off. I would be carrying it with Phil rather than wheeling it along. After about twenty yards, it dawned on me just how heavy the bloody thing was.

       We kept our distance from Zeke's boat. The wind was still howling as we crept by; all the lights on his boat were off. Hopefully they were very deep in the land of Nod. The half-moon afforded us a moderate light when it wasn't obscured by passing cloud.

       We were soon on the boundary of the estate. There was a metal gate, nothing like the huge structure on the main road that Neil would be leaving open. It may have been small, but it was padlocked.

       Vaughan grabbed my hand. ‘Be a good chap and hold this like
so
for me, would you?’

       I held the padlock back-side down on my palm and kept it in the forty-five degree position. Vaughan took a small leather wallet from his pocket and extracted several pieces of metal; each had bends of some shape or other. By the directional light from his headlamp he fiddled away for what seemed like ages. Whenever I'd seen people picking locks in the movies they always seemed to do it in seconds. I was starting to wonder if Vaughan knew what he was doing.

       Suddenly there was a little click from the lock. Vaughan took away the pieces of metal and folded back the U-shaped arm that kept the device closed. He looked up at me and his eyebrows did a little up-down movement. He smiled a That's-how-you-do-it smile. My confidence in him had been restored.

       The gate was stiff and squeaked. Peach pulled it open and we went through. Vaughan stopped and signalled Peach to pull the gate closed. To anyone not looking closely it would look like the gate hadn't been touched. Vaughan then spoke quietly into his headset. ‘Principal to Caretaker.’

       Neil answered. ‘Go ahead Principal.’

       Vaughan gave Neil the update. ‘We are on the school grounds.’

       ‘Thank you Principal.’ With the transmission over, the sortie resumed. Peach took a tub from his rucksack, removed the lid and placed it on the ground. We moved on.

       We crossed a bridge over the river that ran near the canal. As we approached the house we kept to the right, hugging the bushes and trees, keeping any exposure of our silhouettes to a bare minimum. Peach put another tub down. We were now within spitting-distance of the house.

       The massive ten-columned portico guarded the front door, and at the foot of the half dozen or so steps descending from it, was a Guardian Security Services van. Its custodian – somewhere inside the palatial residence.

       We weren't going in through the front. We needed to go right of the building and round the back to the far side, where there was an entrance with an electronic key-coded door. My nerves were getting to me.

       I tapped Peach on the shoulder. ‘Peach.’

       He looked round. ‘What is it?’

       ‘I need a slash.’

       ‘Well have one and make it quick.’

       Phil was also experiencing the same problem. ‘I need one too Peach.'

       Peach turned to Vaughan. ‘Don't tell me you want one.’

       ‘Well now you come to mention it ...’

       ‘
Jesus
, what's the matter with you people? You were all supposed to do this
before
we left the boat.’ Peach was none too happy about our request for a toilet break.

       While he kept lookout, the three of us stood under the canopy of a horse chestnut tree relieving ourselves. The patter of droplets hitting the ground was constant, then intermittent. As the last squirts of liquid were pushed from our bodies, Phil farted; it was quite loud. He quickly justified it with his usual comment.

       ‘Better out than in.’

       ‘Not when I'm fucking-well stood next to you it's not,’ I said.

       Peach was starting to get annoyed. ‘
Keep it down!
Someone will hear you.’ I was fed up with Phil doing the fart-thing. He couldn't just do it quietly; it always had to be a big anal statement.

       We all shook, and put ourselves away. With the gusting wind I'd had some of my pee blown back on to me, making the front of my trousers wet. I thought about young Alvin on the coach journey; it seemed such a long time since that day.

       Relieved, we continued; Phil and I still carrying the trolley between us. The rucksacks on our backs began to feel really heavy. Burglary was no job for old men.

       We were now at the rear of the Mansion house. We’d be entering on the side furthest away from us. Nestling in between two large bushes Vaughan, Peach and I waited as Phil went forward.

       At the centre rear of the house protruded an extension that had been added to the original building. It was large and stretched to the full height of the earlier structure. In order for us to keep Phil in sight we had to be positioned well beyond this. The downside was that it meant we had further to move to reach the door once Phil had opened it, The upside was that it gave us a good vantage point and, should any GSS staff come round the right-hand side of the house, we’d have that little bit of extra time to warn Phil, allowing him to run for cover. He was half-way across the garden when a message came through the headsets. It was Phil’s voice.

       ‘Prefect to Principal.’

       Vaughan answered. ‘Go ahead Prefect.’

       ‘Can see red LED. Will proceed to classroom door. Stand by for unlocking.’

       Vaughan responded. ‘Thank you Prefect.’

       Phil was now over by the door. We waited, and waited, and waited ...

       ‘Prefect to Principal.’

       ‘Go ahead Prefect.’

       ‘Classroom unlocked.’

       ‘Thank you Prefect. Housemaster and New Boy will join you shortly.’ Vaughan looked at us.

       ‘Well my friends, it seems you're up. Remember everything I've told you. Don’t forget to set your radios to the lowest volume and don't go near any windows or external doors. Good luck. Let’s hope you find the journals.’ Vaughan had been drilling this into us relentlessly. It would be the external openings that would be alarmed.

       The Housemaster looked at me and said, ‘Come on New Boy, let’s go.’

       Peach and I set off across the garden. We'd left the trolley with Vaughan but had kept our rucksacks on. Within less than a minute we were up with Phil.

       Phil whispered quietly. ‘OK, you two go in first, I'll close the door behind us.’

       We entered. Phil carefully pulled the door to. The green light on the electronic panel just inside the door flicked to red. The door was now alarmed again.

       He looked at us. ‘The code is
4531
. Have you got that?’ We nodded.

       Phil wanted to be sure. ‘
4531
– Don't forget it, because we've got to come back through here.’ His indoctrination had left the number imprinted on my brain.

       Just inside the door was a small square stone landing area; there were stairs leading up to it, stairs leading down from it. We were going up, where the main rooms of the house would be, and our target – the library.

       We moved up the dozen or so steps. We were now on another small landing area with a door in front of us and another set of stairs. They went upwards in the opposite direction to the ones we'd just climbed. We were about to go through the door when suddenly there was a loud bang ...

       The unmistakeable sound of a thunder clap. Within seconds the rain started. It was heavy, so heavy in fact it sounded almost as if it were inside the house.