Jack Higgins - Day of Reckoning

The following day, Fox was having a light lunch in the Piano Bar at the Dorchester, tagliatelle alla panna, noodles in a cream and ham sauce, just the way he liked it. The waiter poured him a glass of Krug, and Falcone came down the stairs.

'I've been to the Colosseum, Signore. Mori has laid off most of the staff. He's kept on Rossi and Cameci.'

'I know. That damn Ferguson. Any word from Ford?' 'No, Signore.'

'Today's the day, Aldo. Make or break time.'

More than you know, Falcone thought.

Manchester Charlie Ford had expected Amber for lunch, and when he failed to turn up he tried Amber's mobile. When it rang at Holland Park, Helen Black nodded, Miller stood behind and Amber answered.

'Hey, where are you?' Charlie demanded.

'Sorry, Charlie,' Amber mumbled. 'I've got a terrible toothache. I've only just managed to find a dentist who could give me an appointment.'

'You poor sod. Okay, I'll see you this evening.'

'I don't know, Charlie. This thing could knock me out of commission.'

There was a brief silence. 'Well, I suppose we can manage if we have to. Me, Tony and Harold. But be here if you can, okay, Amber?'

'I'll do my best, Charlie.'

'Well, you do that, darling. Stay well.'

Amber switched off the phone and looked at Helen Black. 'Was that okay?'

'You should be on stage, Amber.'

For some strange reason, he perked up. 'You really think so?'

Absolutely. Much better than prison. Maybe you shouldn't go back to Barbados. Maybe you should get an education grant and try the London Theatre School.'

There was a final meeting at Fox's suite at the Dorchester: the Jagos, Ford, Briggs and French. Falcone and Russo stood by, and Fox nodded to Russo, who got a bottle of champagne from the basket and thumbed off the cork. He filled glasses all around.

Fox raised his and toasted the others. 'To the big one. They'll all have to sit up and take notice.' He turned to Ford. 'Everything okay?'

'Amber isn't up to snuff. He's got some sort of tooth infection. He rang me up from the dentist.'

'We don't need the black,' Tony Jago said. 'We can manage. Enough of us as it is.'

'You know best.' Fox nodded.

Tony said, 'So you're sure you're not joining us?'

'Don't be silly. That tunnel would be rather crowded.'

'But you don't mind joining us to share out the loot.'

Falcone, leaning against the wall, straightened, but Harold took charge. 'You shut your mouth,' he said to his brother, 'or I'll give you a slapping.' He turned to Fox. 'Look, I'm sorry. He's young.'

'Well, we all were once,' Jack told him and smiled. 'Come on, another glass of bubbly, and then, as I believe the Irish say, "God bless the good work."'

It was six o'clock that evening when Hannah answered her doorbell and found Dillon on the step.

'Ferguson expects us at his place to wait out what's happening. I've got the Daimler.'

'I'll get my coat.'

She was out in a few minutes, he opened the rear door for her, and she climbed in behind the driver. Dillon leaned in through the open window and tapped the driver on the shoulder.

'Take the Superintendent to Brigadier Ferguson.' He smiled at Hannah. 'I'll see you later. I've got things to do.'

Hannah opened her mouth in surprise, but the Daimler moved away before she could reply.

Outside the Jagos' house in Wapping, a large white truck bearing the sign ELITE CONSTRUCTION drew up.

Ford was at the wheel wearing overalls, Briggs beside him, French in the back. The door to the house opened, and Harold and Tony Jago emerged, came down the steps and also got in the back.

'The moment of truth, boys,' Harold said. 'Let's get to it.'

At the same time, the night security guard at the White Diamond Company, having finished his sandwiches and coffee, sat back to read the Evening Standard. He kept blinking his eyes, yawned a couple of times, put the newspaper down, and checked the multiple television security screens. Everything looked normal. Suddenly, he leaned over the desk, put his head on his arms, and was asleep.

In the tunnel, Ford and French, each wielding a sledgehammer, attacked the wall at the right point. The old Victorian brickwork crumbled and fell backwards in large sections into the basement.

'Perfect,' Ford said. 'In we go, gents.'

They all scrambled through. 'Now what?' Harold Jago asked.

'The tide started to come in downriver fifteen minutes ago. We're good for forty minutes. After that, the tunnel entrance will be covered.'

'Then let's bleeding get on with it,' Harold said.

Connie Briggs took an object from one of the carrying bags that resembled a television remote control. 'The Howler,' he said, and pressed a button.

'Is that it?' Tony Jago asked.

'Well, if it isn't, all hell will break loose when we go upstairs. If it works, the security system is fucked and all the doors will be open. Let's go and see.'

Dillon, the Salters, Joe Baxter and Sam Hall got out of a Transit. Baxter and Hall were carrying large canvas holdalls. Blake got out after them.

Harry Salter said, 'Look, old son, can't you stay in the Transit? You're not up to it.'

'No, it's important to me. Fox had my wife killed, Harry. I want to be there when he finally gets his. What happens now, if we succeed, will finish him.'

Strange, it was Billy who said, 'He's entitled. Let him be.'

'Well, you've changed, you young sod.'

'Damn right, Harry,' Dillon said. 'He's killed two men, and on the side of right. No going back on that.'

Salter said, 'Okay, let's get going.'

He led the way down the steps and started along the shingle to the tunnel entrance. When they got there, he turned to Billy.

'You checked with Handy. How long have we got?' 'Thirty minutes, and don't forget, when that tide floods

in, it's what Handy means by St Richard's Force.' 'Right, let's get to it.'

As the Jagos and the others reached the entrance hall, they paused, observing the security guard sprawled across the desk, the security screens blank.

'There you go. Downstairs to the vault,' Connie Briggs said.

Manchester Charlie Ford laughed. 'I told you he was a genius,' and he led the way down a broad marble stairway to the vaults below.

The others, in the tunnel, had reached the grille door. Harry Salter said, 'Right, let's get on with it.'

Billy said, 'We could clobber them on the way out, Harry. I mean, twelve million.'

'Like I said, it's too much, Billy. They'd bring out the big battalions. Now, we go with my suggestion. I've never liked the Jagos, with their drugs, whores and pornography. Filth.'

He turned to Joe Baxter. 'So get your gear out and let's hope the British prison system taught you a trade.'

Joe Baxter took out an oxy-acetylene welding torch from his holdall. From the other bag, Sam Hall produced an oxygen cylinder.

Baxter flared the torch and started to work.

The great vault doors opened, and the Jagos and their friends were into an Aladdin's cave. They opened their canvas holdalls, pulled out bags and poured in a stream of diamonds.

'Jesus,' Harold said. 'I've never known the like.'

There was an atmosphere of hysteria, everyone laughing, and finally, they were finished.

'Okay, let's be on our way,' Harold ordered and led the way back upstairs.

They moved down to the basement to the exit hole they'd smashed, moved through one by one.

Tony said, 'Christ there's water in the tunnel.'

'Well, there would be,' Harold said. 'The tide's coming in. We've got time. Let's get moving.'

It was already a foot deep when they reached the gate, Manchester Charlie Ford in the lead. He tried to open it. 'What the hell is going on? It won't budge.'

Val French pushed him out of the way and checked it. 'Christ! Someone's welded it together.'