Inheritance (29 page)

As he drank his beer, he turned it over in his mind. Another opportunity like this may never present itself again.

Ben thought about it carefully. He had done some questionable deals in his career, but he had never been involved in a robbery. Sure, he had to leave Rockhampton when there had been questions raised about the doping of a certain greyhound in a race. He had made a big betting plunge on one of the other runners, which had won at long odds, but he had left town before he had been officially involved. While not averse to making a quick buck whenever the opportunity presented itself, it had all been peanuts, compared to what this venture promised.

And once he took the paintings in to Stella, he just had to sit back and wait for her to sell them.

Ben took a deep breath as he considered the actual operation. The chances of him being seen were slight as he would go in the middle of the night. Everyone would be asleep. If he made it on Saturday night, the chances were that the men in the staff quarters would have had a few drinks and would be sleeping heavily. He wouldn’t turn on any lights as he knew where the paintings were hanging. He just had to go in and lift them off the walls, so a torch would give him all the light he needed. Then he would drive to Cairns and pass them over to Stella, who lived above the gallery.

And on Monday, he would turn up for work as usual, just another worker who would be shocked to hear that the boss had been robbed. There would be nothing to connect him with it.

Yes, it seemed simple and fool-proof. The one hitch would be to get inside the house. He remembered there was a window with glass louvres in it between the pantry and the back verandah. He had noticed it when he had been in the kitchen with Rosie. He could easily cut the flywire screen from that and remove the louvres. If he had to break one to get at the others, it would make hardly any noise. Yes, that would be the way to go.

Making his way to a quiet corner of the bar, he called Stella on his mobile phone.

‘Hi, it’s me, Ben. Are you alone?’

‘At the moment, yes. Why?’

‘I’m planning on having a delivery for you on Saturday night. From a house we’re both interested in.’

He heard a sharp intake of breath. ‘This Saturday?’

‘Yes. Late, very late. Any problems?’

‘I have something arranged, but I’ll cancel it.’

Ben looked around to make sure he could not be overheard. ‘It’s a good opportunity. The place’ll be empty. Everyone’ll be away.’

‘Everyone?’

‘Except the stockmen and they’re a long way from the house.’

‘What about the manager and his family?’

‘They’re going, too.’

He heard the excitement in her voice. ‘Excellent. Now look,’ in her excitement, her Australian accent became pronounced, ‘there’s a chance I might be able to have a door unlocked for you.’

‘How could you manage that?’

‘Don’t ask questions. There’s ways and means. And when you’ve finished in the house, go down to the office underneath the house. There’re two paintings hanging there that you mightn’t have seen. I’d like to get my hands on them, too. They’re worth a bloody fortune.’

‘How do you know about them?’

‘I told you, don’t ask. What time will you be here?’

‘I don’t know. I won’t start out till after midnight, when everything’s quiet. Then I’ll have to do the business and drive in to you. I suppose between three and four or thereabouts. I want to be home and in bed well before it’s light. Just make sure you’re awake and waiting for me. I don’t want to have to knock to waken you. Wait downstairs so you’ll hear me easily.’

‘I will, don’t worry. I don’t want anyone to see you.’

‘No. Nor do I. Well then, if that’s all, I’ll see you Saturday night.’

‘Be careful, won’t you? We don’t want any slip-ups.’

‘You’re joking. It’s my neck, remember. See you.’

Switching off the phone, he went back to the bar and bought himself another beer, his breath coming faster with excitement. Well, the die is cast. I don’t know whether to be glad or sorry.

***

Come Saturday, Ben felt both excited and apprehensive. He was about to take the biggest risk of his life.

Jesus, what if something went wrong? What if he was caught? He broke out in a cold sweat just thinking about it!

Calm down, he told himself. Nothing’s going to go wrong. He’d seen them all leave yesterday, hadn’t he?

Cassie had come over to tell Gary that she had arranged to have some things delivered and had given the shop directions to bring them directly to the building site, but would he please watch out for them in case she was late back on Monday?

Ben had felt a surge of relief on hearing her words. All was working out according to plan. He got a lift back in the buggy to the end of the track, on the pretext of wanting
something from his car, and so had been able to see the four of them drive off together. He waved to Rosie as the car passed him.

He made a point of going to the pub on Saturday night so he would be seen there, so that he would have an alibi of sorts should he ever need it.

Eating potato chips, he nursed a beer while he watched the greyhound racing on the big screen. He spoke to several people he knew throughout the evening, making sure he would be remembered.

At eleven thirty Ben went to the toilet and when he came out, he slipped out the back door to the car park. If anyone noticed him, they would be unlikely to take note of the time.

Once home, he changed his rather loud floral shirt and cargo shorts for dark jeans and a long sleeved black shirt and dark sneakers. He tucked a black beanie into his pocket together with a pair of surgical gloves he had purchased from a large and busy pharmacy in Cairns during the week.

Picking up his torch, he loaded it with fresh batteries and checked it. Next, he pocketed a Stanley knife and picked up a brick he had wrapped in dark cloth. These were in case Stella hadn’t been able to arrange for the door to be open and he needed to cut the screen and break a glass louvre to get inside. He wondered again how she could arrange this. Never mind, if she could, it would make the job easier. But if not, he was prepared.

His watch showed twelve fifteen. He opened his door and looked up and down the street. There was no one about and no traffic. Time to go.

As Ben came close to Yallandoo, he turned off his headlights and drove on with only his parking lights.

Only two cars had passed him on his way here, and that had been close to Cairns. Out here, there were no signs of life. There were no streetlights this far from town and the night was perfect for his operation. The sky was partly cloudy but a faint moon peeked through as he reached the entrance. Switching off the parking lights, he could just make out the solid mass of the house ahead. Driving slowly and carefully, he kept the engine noise to a minimum. Pulling up alongside the house, Ben got out of the car.

He stood absolutely still for a few moments, his heart hammering. Not a sound broke the stillness. After pulling on the gloves and putting the beanie on his head, he went to the back of the car and opened the boot, then made his way cautiously to the back of the house.

He felt no fear now, only excitement. His blood pounded. Mounting the steps slowly, he crossed to the door.

Putting out his hand, he turned the doorknob. It turned in his grasp. He eased the door slowly open, holding his breath. The only sound was the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hall. Switching on the torch and shading it with his hand, he shone it up the hall. Everything looked exactly as he remembered it. Ben closed the door behind him and shone the torch on the walls. Yes, they were there.

He let out a huge breath, realising he had been holding it since he opened the door.

Quickly he moved inside and began removing the paintings from the walls, stacking them against the wall alongside the back door. Then he went into the rooms leading off the hall and took down those that hung there. He counted the stack. There were nine large paintings altogether. Not a bad haul!

Switching off the torch before opening the door cautiously, he peered out. Not a sound.

His heart racing again, he picked up two of the paintings and made his way to the car with them, forcing himself to move slowly, taking care not to stumble in the dark. He put them in the boot and returned for two more. Nervous now, wanting to be gone. It seemed to take forever but finally the job was finished. The paintings filled the space completely. As he closed the boot, he heaved a sigh of relief.

Ben wanted to go but remembered Stella’s words and went quickly to the door of the office beneath the house. That was unlocked, too.

A quick swing of the torch beam showed him there were only two small paintings in here. He quickly took them down and carried them back to the car, closing the door carefully behind him. These two had to go in the back, there was no room left in the boot.

When he climbed into the driver’s seat, he pulled off the gloves and shoved them in his pocket, then leaned back for a moment, his breath coming in gasps. Now to get out of here!

Starting the car carefully, he went back slowly the way he had come, finding his way to the gate without using his lights. Then he switched on his parking lights and made his way about a kilometre up the road.

Here he pulled over on to the side of the road and sat for a few minutes, forcing himself to breathe calmly until he regained his composure.

Suddenly Ben felt elated. He had done it. He had pulled off what was probably a million-dollar robbery.

He forced himself to drive at a little under the speed limit all the way to Cairns. The last thing he wanted now was to be stopped by a police patrol.

Ben pulled up directly outside the gallery. The street was empty. There was no sign of life anywhere. He crossed the footpath and tapped gently on the door. It opened immediately. Stella, still fully dressed, stood there.

‘Have you got them?’ she whispered.

‘Of course. Give us a hand to bring them in.’

Together they emptied the car of its cargo in a few moments. The blinds were drawn across the windows of the gallery and Stella switched on a small lamp once they were safely inside.

‘There you are. Everything you ordered,’ Ben said proudly.

‘Wonderful. How did it all go? Did you have any trouble?’

‘Nothing I couldn’t handle. But I don’t want to hang around here now. I need to get back home before it’s much later. There’ll be hell to pay when these are missed. You better keep them well out of sight.’

‘Don’t worry, I will. You’d better not come around here anymore. We shouldn’t be seen together. You can call me if you need to contact me. Here’s my mobile number.’ She thrust a card into his hand. ‘But don’t forget about the other thing. Have you made any progress with that?’

‘No. Give us a go. I’ve been searching that bloody mountain nearly every day. Now, when can I expect the money for these?’

‘It’ll take a little while. I have to get in touch with my contacts in the States and in Europe and let them know what I have. And I wouldn’t dare ship them out for a while yet. I’ll have to wait till the hue and cry dies down a bit.’

‘Okay, but I hope it doesn’t take too long. I took a hell of a risk tonight. I’d like to see something back for it.’

‘I know, I know. Just leave it with me. I’ll call you as soon as I have some news. You’d better go now. I’ll put these into a safe hiding place.’

‘G’night then. Don’t forget to keep in touch.’

‘I will. And don’t forget the other thing.’

Stella opened the door and looked up and down the street. ‘Go now, there’s no one around.’

When Ben reached home, he put his car away and went inside and changed into pyjamas. As he climbed into bed, he gave a fleeting thought to Cassie. She would certainly be upset when she discovered the paintings gone. Well, bad luck for her. She had plenty. It was every man for himself in this world.

Ben was on too much of a high to sleep. What a night it had been. He had pulled off a successful art robbery. A real heist, he told himself, laughing at the description.

Now all he had to do was keep his cool until it all blew over. Then he would have more money than he had ever dreamed of earning. And he wouldn’t forget the burial site thing either. This life of crime was going to suit him.

Cassie heaved a sigh of relief as the car turned into the driveway. Thank God they were home.

Lorna dozed alongside her, tired after the trip from Townsville, and Rosie sat in the front with Tom.

Grateful to be free of keeping up her end of a conversation, Cassie let her mind wander.

The weekend had been an ordeal for her. She hadn’t wanted to go but the arrangements had all been made and Rosie had persuaded her she would be better to go than to sit home moping, all by herself, over the weekend. And she supposed Rosie was right. She had forced herself to act as if nothing was wrong.

Hopefully no one except Rosie realised that underneath her calm exterior, her heart was crushed, the heavy fragments lacerating her soul.

Mark’s duplicity had shocked her profoundly. She thought she had found something special but it had all been a sham. Mark’s words of love had been as insubstantial as the spun threads of fairy floss.

On top of the pain of his deceit, she was humiliated by the belief that he had discussed their lovemaking with…that…that supercilious bitch.

Rosie turned around as they pulled up at the front of the house. ‘I’ll go over to the other house and fetch some milk,’ she told Cassie.

‘All right. See you soon.’

Tom walked around to the boot and took Cassie’s bag out for her. Climbing out, Cassie took it from him. ‘Thanks, Tom. Don’t bother about carrying it in. It’s not heavy, I can manage.’

As she carried her bag down the hall to her room, she had the uneasy feeling that something was wrong.

Placing her bag on the floor of her room, Cassie stood uncertainly for a minute, listening, but the only sound to reach her came from the ticking of the grandfather clock. Walking hesitantly back into the hall she surveyed the scene, a frown on her face. What was different?