Maurice Procter - Two men in twenty

Burdened with equipment, the other three were now standing behind him. 'Don't any of you show a light,' he whispered as he unlocked the door. The sense of the warning became apparent as he gently pushed it open. The front, main part of the shop was bathed in light from the street. It shone on the polished counters, and on the orderly piles of canned foods on display. In the street a woman was passing, looking into the shop window as she walked along. The four men stood quite still.

The woman moved out of sight. A man also passed, but he looked straight to his front. France stepped through the doorway and found that there were narrow stairs to the left. 'The manager's office must be up here.' he said, and led the way.

On the square landing at the head of the stairs there were three doors, only one of which was locked. It was an ordinary latch lock. France shook the door gently, and found that there was room to work a piece of strong but pliant celluloid between door and jamb. This 'loid', which was his most useful housebreaking implement, France carried in his sock. When the loid was in place above the lock he brought it smartly down on the tongue of the lock, turning the door handle and pushing at the same time. The loid pressed back the tongue far enough for the door to be opened.

France replaced the loid in his sock, and pushed open the door. He entered a small room which contained a desk, shelves of books and papers, a chest of drawers, three upright chairs and a big safe. Here too was light from the street shining through a window of moderate size. It was bright enough to show that the safe had a very old-fashioned look.

'I could open that thing with a twirl,' France said with contempt.

'I daresay you could,' said Cain, who had followed him into the room. 'We'll use the XXC. I want to see how Husker shapes on the job. Let's get this window blacked out for a start.'

Folded and carried on his shoulder was the piece of heavy grey canvas which was to be used to cover the window. Before he unfolded the canvas he took a small paper bag from his pocket, and from the bag he shook out broad-headed carpet tacks into his palm. 'Six apiece,' he said, handing tacks to France.

Each standing on a chair, the two men thumb-tacked the canvas to the wall nine inches above the window. It was big enough to extend eighteen inches on each side of the window and it hung a foot below. It made a perfect blackout curtain.

While they were engaged in this task they could hear Husker and Jolly grunting and panting up the stairs with the oxygen cylinder. When Cain had stepped down and crossed the room to switch on the light, they entered with their burden. Jolly immediately put down the end he was carrying and collapsed on to a chair, but Husker lowered the cylinder carefully to the floor. He leaned gasping against the desk, eyeing the cylinder.

'The acetylene's a lot heavier,' he said. 'Next time you'd better find a place wi' no stairs.'

'Have a rest,' Cain advised. He and France, a stronger team, brought up the acetylene cylinder, and by that time the other two were sufficiently recovered to go and bring up the two suitcases which held the hose, regulators, blowpipes, mask, protective clothing, and the electric drill which Jolly had contributed.

Jolly had noticed a power plug in the skirting board. 'It's a thirteen amp, like I've got on my drill,' he said. 'I might as well be boring a hole while he's getting his stuff ready.'

'Just the job,' Cain assented. 'It might give us an idea what sort of steel we're up against.'

So Jolly set to work without delay, while Husker made his own arrangements. He wanted the cylinders upright against the wall as far behind the safe as he could put them, so that no sparks could reach them. He had equipped himself well, but he had no stand for the oxygen cylinder. While the acetylene would stand on its own base, the oxygen had to be held upright by France.

Husker fitted the regulators and hose, and with a key from his pocket he turned on the gas. The observant door-and-window man noticed that the oxygen showed a pressure of 1900 pounds to the square inch, while the acetylene showed a pressure of only 220 pounds. He was further surprised when Husker adjusted the gauge to discharge oxygen at 160 pounds, while the needle on the acetylene gauge showed only 7 pounds. He was to learn later that at certain temperatures oxygen had an affinity with iron and its compounds. The acetylene was only used to provide heat, while a thin dagger of pure, hot oxygen pierced the iron or steel. Nor did it melt the steel. It caused it to disintegrate, blowing it away in bright sparks which cooled to brittle flakes of grey rust.

'I'm through,' Jolly announced. 'Right through.'

Husker nodded. He was putting his arms into a leather garment which covered arms, chest, and shoulders. He tied on his leather apron and put on his mask, which was in fact a respirator. He pulled on strong leather gloves and picked up the blowpipe, which was actually an arrangement of three pipes ending in one nozzle which was a rosette of tiny apertures, with one central aperture for the oxygen.

He went on one knee, not in front of the safe but in a position where he could work on it from the side. The blowpipe allowed for this, being turned at a right angle a few inches from the nozzle.

He set an adjustment on the blowpipe, and raised it and held it behind his shoulder, to where France stood behind him, in such a manner that the nozzle was within reach of France but not pointing towards him. A muffled voice came from the respirator, and the other men understood. He removed one hand from the oxygen cylinder and brought out his lighter. He flicked it and held it forward and an eight-inch jet of flame shot from the blowpipe.

Jolly pointed to the three-sixteenths-of-an-inch hole he had drilled, and from the hole he traced a downward arc on the safe door with the tip of his forefinger. 'That way you should cut the tumbler bars,' he said.

Again Husker nodded, and Jolly stepped back. The jet of flame began to play on the safe door near the newly drilled hole. It spread as it hit the steel, burning away the paint. This treatment was continued for some time. Cain looked at Jolly in disgust. 'He'll never open the safe in a thousand years like this.'

Jolly shrugged, and continued to watch the display of flame on steel. Cain moved nearer. 'You're not cutting it, man,' he protested. 'You're not getting anywhere.'

Husker stopped work and lifted his respirator. 'Shurrup,' he snarled. 'An' stand back unless you want to be blinded.'

Cain stepped back, and thereafter was silence as an area of the safe door grew hot enough to glow dully. As the glow became brighter, Husker's hand moved to a trigger on the blowpipe. He turned on the main stream of oxygen, and at once the flame changed its nature. Now it was less than three inches long, driven so hard that it looked like solid light. When Husker applied the tip of the flame to the safe door, big golden sparks exploded from the point of impact in a shower which made the watchers move back as far as they could go. They stood in fascination as the nozzle of the blowpipe moved with perfect steadiness, slowly but visibly, along the line which Jolly had indicated.

With this safe it was a matter of minutes. Husker stood up and turned off the flow of gas from the cylinders. He pulled off his respirator and revealed a face beetroot red and streaming with sweat. 'Is that all right?' he asked.

Cain was already at the door of the safe. 'It won't open,' he said thickly.

'Just a minute,' Jolly told him.

France was allowed to put down the oxygen cylinder. Both cylinders were laid side by side. While Husker watched, the other three tilted the safe, and moved it a little in that position. There was a tiny metallic 'plunk'. 'Try it now while we hold it like this,' Jolly said to France.