Brian Freemantle - Charlie Muffin U.S.A.

Throughout the polystyrene was threaded red and yellow flex, indicating the wired alarms, and these had actually been connected to battery-operated bells which rang if, during any part of the rehearsal, anyone disturbed either a window or door alarm or stepped on one of the pressure pads that Chambine had guessed would be there, and therefore marked around the display cases.

As much thought had gone into the cases as everything else. The entry through the side door was planned to enable a lengthy bypass lead, with alligator clips at either end, to be simply clamped into place, and this would maintain the circuit so that the intervening alarm wire could be cut, allowing the door to be opened about two feet.

At first Chambine frowned both at the other leads and the expandable steel rods carried into the practice area after Bulz and Beldini had immobilised the cameras, unable to think of a purpose for them. And then he smiled at the expertise. The rods were extended and slipped beneath the display cases by Bertrano and Petrilli. At Bertrano’s nod they lifted the cases, but only slightly. Chambine saw that they had anticipated that the case legs would be wired, to trigger an alarm the moment there was any extended movement. With the case about three inches from the ground, Bulz and Beldini went on their knees and clipped more bypass leads into place, linking them with the alarms on the adjoining case so that at all times the circuit would remain intact.

‘Good,’ said Chambine approvingly, moving further into the warehouse when the rehearsal was over. ‘Very good indeed.’

The performance had gone far more smoothly than he had ever hoped it would.

‘Our first attempt timed out at forty-five minutes,’ said Bertrano. ‘The last three runs have all come out around twenty.’

‘The camera-covering averages out at about four minutes,’ added Bulz. ‘We can lose about another minute, but it increases the risk of exposure before a camera. Even though we’ll be masked, we figure it isn’t worth it.’

‘I agree,’ said Chambine. ‘Four minutes is fine.’

‘Can you imagine any other alarms we haven’t thought of?’ asked Bertrano.

Chambine shook his head. ‘Nothing,’ he said. He turned to Saxby and Boella.

‘What about the outside lights?’

‘Better than we expected,’ said Saxby. ‘Every fourth lighting pedestal has a small junction box. The idea must be to reduce the possibility of a full-scale blackout. All we’ll have to do is to make our selection and take out the entry cables with wire cutters.’

‘Have you worked out a pattern?’ demanded Chambine.

Boella produced a drawing. It was quite detailed, showing the area off South County Road and Breakers Row, with the hotel golf course sketched in. The lights were designated in green and those they intended extinguishing were crossed through in black.

‘Swimming pool and beach area first,’ said Saxby, indicating the initial targets. ‘That’ll create a diversion. Then some in the gardens, but still away from the exhibition area. Those around that and the car park will be the last.’

Chambine moved his head, as satisfied with this as he had been with the other preparations.

‘We thought about midnight,’ said Bertrano. ‘By that time those still around will be sufficiently drunk and the hotel staff will be tired.’

Chambine stood nodding.

‘At midnight,’ continued Saxby, ‘we hit the lights by the pool…’

‘… and we go in through the side door immediately after the security checks by the guards,’ said Bertrano.

‘We paced out the distance,’ said Saxby. ‘Four times, in fact. Allowing three minutes for any eventuality we haven’t considered, we’ll be outside the exhibition hall, with all the lights out, in fifteen minutes.’

‘And by that time,’ said Bertrano, ‘we will have all the cases except the last two freed from whatever wiring there might be and positioned near the car-park window.’

‘Which is fifteen minutes ahead of the next security patrol,’ remembered Chambine.

‘We want to talk about that,’ said Bertrano. ‘One thing which could stretch our timing is how long it will take us to load the cases into the cars. Even if there is no interruption, I can’t see us clearing the car park before twelve-twenty-five. That’s only five minutes before the inspection. It’s hardly long enough.’

‘Wouldn’t it be better if we waited and took the guards out?’ asked Boella, obviously the spokesman for the proposal. ‘It would take maybe half an hour – perhaps longer – to discover what had happened to them. That would give us much more time. We’d get clear of the island.’

Chambine made a reluctant movement with his head. ‘I said I didn’t want violence if it could be avoided,’ he reminded them.

‘We’re not sure if it’s safe to avoid it,’ pressed Bertrano.

‘If we are out of the car park by twelve-twenty-five, then we will have disposed of the cases by twelve-forty,’ said Chambine. ‘By twelve-fifty you’ll be paid off and on your way. If the alarm is raised promptly at twelve-thirty, I can’t imagine the police getting themselves organised in twenty minutes, can you?’

‘And what happens if we don’t get away from the car park by twelve-twenty-five?’ asked Boella stubbornly.

For several moments, Chambine did not reply. Then he said, ‘I agree it’s a problem.’

‘So how do we resolve it?’ asked Bertrano.

Chambine sighed, reaching the decision. ‘I shall be outside in the car park, with Saxby and Boella,’ he said, addressing them as a group. ‘I’ll be responsible for time checking that part of the operation. If it becomes clear that we’re not going to be able to get away – completely away – a few moments before twelve-twenty-five, then we’ll stay and hit the security people as soon as they enter the room…’ There were relieved smiles from the men in front of him. ‘I’m agreeing to it because it is obviously the sensible thing to do,’ he went on. ‘But if I can, I’ll avoid it…’ He looked specifically at Saxby, Boella and Petrilli. ‘Don’t forget what I said about those guns,’ he warned them. ‘If we get away without trouble, I want them dumped. I’m not having something as sweet as this screwed up by an unlicensed weapon arrest.’

Saxby and Boella nodded and Petrilli said, ‘Sure, I won’t forget.’

‘I mean it,’ stressed Chambine.

‘Okay!’ said Saxby.

Chambine hesitated at the challenge in Saxby’s voice and then decided to let it pass. Instead he looked at Bertrano. ‘I’d like the suite for a meeting.’

‘Sure,’ agreed the man from Chicago.

Chambine extended the conversation, to include them all.

‘And I’d appreciate your all being away from the hotel from noon to maybe four o’clock.’

Saxby grinned. ‘So he’s a shy guy.’

‘Yes,’ said Chambine. ‘He’s a shy man. And for fifty thousand apiece, he buys his right to stay that way.’

‘Nobody minds,’ said Bertrano.

‘I’ll be here before noon,’ said Chambine. ‘At exactly midday, I’ll telephone the Papeete Bay Verandah at the Polynesian Village hotel. I want to know you’re all there.’

Chambine waited for any objection to this expressed doubt that one of them might remain, to discover who the financier was.

‘We said we’d be away from the hotel,’ Bertrano reminded him quietly.

‘And I said he buys the right to remain anonymous,’ said Chambine. He waited, but no one appeared to want to take the conversation further.

‘I think this is going to work,’ said Chambine, wanting to reduce the tension that had arisen between them. ‘I want to thank you all for what you’ve done.’

‘We are as determined for this to succeed as you are,’ said Bertrano.