Gordon Ferris - The Unquiet heart

We slunk round the lip of the hold. Midge was already monkeying up the rope.

Cyril held the end steady, then when Midge was level with the open door he swung him backwards and forwards twice. The second time, Midge grabbed the opening and pulled himself in. Stan shinned up after him and I followed. I felt the rope burning my hands, and my lungs were panting as I was pulled in through the open door. But my arms felt good and strong; my workouts at Les’s gym were paying off.

Cyril was already on his way up. He did a bad pantomime of Tarzan swinging on his liana. I reached out and dragged him in before he started to beat his chest.

We freed our cudgels from our belts and tiptoed into the darkness of the warehouse.

I heard the cart trundling nearer. We settled into the dark, against the wall and part-hidden by wood pillars. We waited. Gradually shapes took on definition as my eyes adjusted. The big room seemed to stretch forever into the blackness, with beams in serried ranks. The cart was coming from our left but I couldn’t make it out yet.

Suddenly there was a noise from the right. It was the same sound of wheels creaking. We were facing two teams. I should have waited longer to see what was happening before sending us over the top. I tried to be positive. Maybe it was just the two of them, with one man per cart? Maybe they would roll over and not fight. We still had surprise. I couldn’t contact the others now but I knew they would have heard and understood. I saw small waves from each of them.

The cart from the left took shape, and I could see two heads pushing it. Damn!

Turning, I was in time to see the one from the right come into view. I signalled to Midge and Cyril to take the left one; Stan and I would attack the right. We waited and waited, until both carts were within twenty paces. Surely they would see us? Closer, closer, then I acted. I gave a great roar and ran at the right hand truck. My voice was echoed by three others as the lads went in.

The two behind our cart looked stunned. But my man’s reflexes were still working; he ducked my club and I caught him a glancing blow on his shoulder. I followed through with a tackle that brought him down. He was wriggling and kicking like a lassoed bullock. Stank like one too. I’d lost the club, and we fought in silence until I could hold his arm and get a clean punch in. I got him on the side of the head and drew blood over his eye. It slowed him. I hit him again and his head fell back with a crack on to the floor. He lay still. One down.

I got to my feet; Stan was standing panting over the flattened body of his man, ready to hit him again if he moved. He didn’t look like he was going to any time soon. I dragged my bloke over to Stan and told him to guard them both. I ran over to the others. Midge had nailed his man, but Cyril was lying flat on the floor. There was no sign of the other. Bugger! We pulled off Cyril’s balaclava.

He gave a groan and stirred, and we helped him sit up. We all removed our masks.

It was good to scratch.

“You big jessie,” I said. “You all right?”

“Yeah, skip. Sorry. He ducked. I didn’t.” Cyril touched his head and came away with blood. I pulled a hankie from my pocket and gave it to him.

“What do we do?” hissed Midge.

“Nothing. We’ll never find him in this rat run. Forget him. This is a good haul.

Tie them up and bring them over to the door. We’ll sit it out till Tommy gets here in the morning.”

“What about the bint?” asked Stan.

“I’ll go get her and bring her up here. We’ll leave the other one where he is.

He’s not going anywhere.”

Shortly we had the three of them trussed up and moaning gently by the doorway. I reached out, grabbed the rope and slid down to the barge. I checked the man we’d left; he was well held. And awake; he glowered at me over his gag. I glanced over and saw Eve watching me. I walked over and gave her my hands. She clambered up swiftly and neatly. I held the rope and watched in admiration as she hauled herself up to the door. All that swimming must have developed her arms. One of the boys pulled her in and I followed. I found her shaking her hair loose and being admired by the boys who were preening in front of their prisoners.

“Get your fucking hands up!”

We whirled and stared into the dark chamber. The missing man was standing not ten feet away. He was a skinny little guy but he was holding a big fat gun.

Slowly we did as he asked. I noticed Eve slipping back behind me so that I would shield her from the gunman. Smart girl.

He came towards us. I recognised the huge set of teeth in the little face. Sid the foreman. It figured.

“Now get over there, you bastards! Away from them.” He waved his gun towards the doorway. We shuffled until he had us set up with our backs to the river. Eve was cowering behind me, holding on to my jacket at the back. His mates lay between us and him. They were stirring and ready to be freed. I felt a complete fool. I also felt vulnerable standing so close to the lip of the doorway.

Sid bent down and pulled the gags off the three men.

“Thank Christ, Sid!” said one of them. “Don’t just stand there. Finish the fucking job. Shoot the fuckers.”

Sid stood up, and looked at us. A grin came over his weasel face.

“I seen you in the yard. You’se fucking coppers?”

I shook my head, wondering about stepping back and jumping. But Eve was between me and the exit. I hoped one of the others would make the jump. Better to risk a broken leg than a shot in the belly.

“Well, that’s all right then. You ain’t gonna be missed.”

“Shut the fuck up talking, Sid. Shoot!”

Sid raised his gun and took aim at my chest. He could hardly miss from six feet away. I braced myself. I suppose I shut my eyes. A gun went off and I heard a scream. It wasn’t me. Sid was writhing on the ground, clutching his shoulder.

Eve’s right arm stuck out under mine. Smoke was clearing from the little gun in her hand. I didn’t waste any more time thinking. I dashed forward and kicked the gun away from Sid. He was squealing in pain like a skelped pup. I retrieved his gun and walked back to Eve, now the centre of attention and congratulatory hugs by my lads. She wasn’t looking joyous. Her face was strained and tight, like a kid who knows she’s done wrong but won’t admit it.

“I said no guns.”

“Not to me you didn’t,” she said fiercely.

“I didn’t expect you to need the warning.”

Midge butted in. “Fuck’s sake, Danny. She saved our skins.”

I sighed and nodded. “You’re right. Eve, thanks. Thanks a million. Now I suggest you use that journalist imagination to think up a good story for the boys in blue tomorrow.” She looked at me warily. I smiled and stepped forward and put my arms round her. My turn to hug. Through her thick worker’s clothing, her curves pressed against me. She felt good in my arms.

“Thanks. I mean it. You were amazing. You all right?”

She looked up and nodded, and this time she smiled and I could feel the tension leave her and the shakes begin. I gently prised the gun from her. It was a toy, a Beretta 0.25. I’d ask later where she got it and how she learned to use it.

“Let’s get Sidney here as comfortable as we can. It won’t be serious. It was only a pea-shooter.” I held up the gun. The boys laughed and bent to work. When we were done, we settled down for what was left of the night. That’s how Tommy Chandler found us come daylight.

Tommy almost wept when he found what had happened – whether in gratitude to us or anger at being betrayed by his foreman was hard to tell. We only just managed to stop him from kicking the lot of them into the river, still tied. And Tommy would have added a couple of bricks to help them on their way to hell.