Maurice Procter - Two men in twenty

Husker was silent. Cain added for good measure: 'If you think I enjoy sitting in a crummy four-ale bar full of dustmen's wives, you're mistaken. I'm accustomed to the best, I am. And so is my wife. And if anybody says she isn't, we'll take it up here and now. And if anybody doesn't want me running this show, we'll take that up, too.'

He looked around, and he was no longer Cain the diplomat, the patient smoother of troubles. This was the real Cain, ruthless and formidable. The reference to his wife had meant nothing. It had simply been an excuse to lead on to a real test of strength.

There were no challengers. These men who all their lives had been in mutiny against authority now mutely accepted the continuance of Cain's.

Only France showed the cool shadow of a smile. If Cain noticed it, he chose to think that it was a smile of approval. France was not a grumbler.

'We'll have less of it,' Cain went on. 'I been too soft with you lot.'

Nobody seemed to want to argue about that, so he continued: 'Flo is going to do a bit more scouting on this next job, and then the Gent here can go and have a look at it.'

There was no comment. Cain said finally: 'That's it, then. We go on according to plan, with me in charge. In sole charge .'

* * * * *

Four days a week the cashier of Boulton's warehouse was escorted to the bank in the afternoon, just before the bank closed. The exceptional days were Tuesdays and Wednesdays. On Tuesdays he did not go to the bank at all, and on Wednesdays he went at twelve noon.

'Tuesday night, then,' Cain decided. 'There'll be just one day's takings, but it's a big concern.'

'Should be all right,' Jolly said. 'We've not done a Tuesday night job for a long while.'

' 'Course it'll be all right,' Cain answered with finality. Since the recent showdown his manner had remained authoritative. This harsher attitude seemed to be effective. His words were listened to. It could even be said that his associates respected him more.

Half past nine at night was the time chosen for France to enter the warehouse, going ahead of the others as he nearly always did. By that time it was quite dark. Also, there would be fewer people about than there would be an hour earlier or an hour later. With fewer people about it would be easier to detect the lonely figure of a policeman, whether in uniform or plain clothes. The gang discounted the fact that it would also be easier for a policeman to become suspicious of a car full of men. They always felt safe in a car, with Coggan at the wheel.

The night was fine, but windy. The noisy draught which blew about the city streets was accounted an advantage. On this occasion France took Jolly with him as assistant and lookout. The doorway in which he had to work was in a street which was busy in the daytime and quiet in the evening. Without a lookout, he could possibly be trapped in the doorway by a policeman walking quietly around his beat.

The door he had selected was actually the door to the firm's offices. It was a handsome door, of thick, square glass panels set in hardwood, with one mortise lock. With Jolly standing beside him, peering along the street, he set to work with a key-shaped instrument which could be adjusted to the wards of the lock.

It was an excellent lock, but of a type with which he was familiar. Nevertheless, it took him ten minutes to open the door. During that time a young man and a girl passed the doorway. When they passed Jolly was squeezed into the darkest corner and France with his back to the street was covering him. A person looking casually into the doorway could have mistaken them for a courting couple. As it happened, Jolly observed that neither the man nor the girl looked into the doorway.

When the door was open Jolly took one last look along the street and then followed France inside. France closed the door gently. In the darkness he touched Jolly's arm, and a small steel wedge was slipped into his hand. He inserted the wedge between door and jamb and pressed it home with all his strength, making it more secure by hammering it with the heel of his gloved hand. When four wedges had been pressed into place he tried the door and found it immovable.

'Right,' he breathed, and went to find the safe. Jolly remained to watch the door, from a distance and from behind a receptionist's desk. Ten minutes passed. Three people went by, and then he had the unnerving experience of seeing a policeman's light on the door. But the door remained firm, and the policeman went on his way. 'That's it,' he decided. 'The boys have spotted that bogey, and they're waitin' till he's been long gone.'

Then he had another heart-jolting shock as he sensed movement close behind him. France had silently returned, to crouch beside him. 'Coo,' he protested in a whisper, 'you're up an' down like a ghost.'

France ignored the protest. He said softly: 'I had to open two doors. The safe is in the office marked "Cashier". Go have a look at it.'

Jolly departed, and France stayed to watch the door. Jolly came back, and said: 'Nice peter.' There was silence for a minute, and then a car stopped opposite the doorway. Two men alighted. Cain's tall, powerful figure was recognizable as he moved to the doorway and signalled. The other man was already opening the boot of the car.

By the time France had removed the wedges from the door, Cain and Husker were in the doorway with the oxygen cylinder. They entered with it and put it down carefully. Then the four men, Cain, Husker, Jolly, and France, passed the steel bottle of propane and the rest of the equipment from hand to hand, from the car to the office door. Cain closed the boot and tapped on the window of the car. The car shot away.

'Jolly knows the way,' France said to Cain as he closed the door. He began to put in the wedges. The other three busied themselves in carrying the equipment to the cashier's office.

When the door was secure, France settled down behind the reception desk. Only the top of his head was visible to anyone who looked in from the street, and the outline of that was blurred by a telephone on the desk. While he waited, he felt the need for a cigarette. He did not even consider lighting one. As a criminal, France needed no discipline. When he was actually on a job, he never allowed himself the slightest relaxation.

A few people passed the doorway. No policeman appeared. Half an hour later he heard his accomplices returning. They were burdened with equipment, but they had left the oxygen cylinder behind. They squatted in a line behind France, so that the desk was between them and the door.

'You all right?' Cain wanted to know.

'Sure. You?'

'We managed. It was a tough 'un. Couldn't get going till Leo found just the right mixture to give it.'

'How much?'

'Oh, I should think nearly a two thou. A good 'un.'

Thereafter was silence. In a few minutes Coggan arrived with the car. France removed the wedges from the door and the others bustled out with their burdens. Though they did not speak, they did not try to be silent. Jolly actually threw his drill into the boot of the car. France closed the office door gently. He did not seem to hurry, but he was the first man to get into the car. Cain was the last, after he had closed the boot. He also took time to look up and down the street, and saw only two people so far away that they were hardly discernible.

'Home, James, and don't spare the horses,' he said as he closed the door of the car.

The car moved rapidly away from the distant figures.

* * * * *

Less than fifteen minutes later the man on the beat came round again. He was a conscientious P.C. who was a little hurt because he had not been chosen for plainclothes duty. He tried the door of Boulton's offices, and found that it was not locked.

He opened the door and examined the lock by flashlight. He could not see any marks. His light moved up and down the edge of the door, and the jamb. He saw the marks left on the hardwood by the wedges, but they were so faint that he attached no importance to them. Possibly that trait of attaching no importance to things was one of the reasons why he had not been selected for plainclothes duty.