Lynda Plante - Tennison

‘What about Cliff Bentley? He’ll see us going in.’

‘He’ll be taken care of. The two officers dressed like tramps will go to the top of the car park and take him out as we move in.’

‘What if he raises the alarm before they get to him?’

‘Chance I have to take, but even then where are the bastards going to run to? They won’t try and escape empty-handed. We’ve got them, Spence, we fuckin’ got ’em like rats in a barrel!’ Bradfield said and patted Spencer’s back.

Clifford felt his teeth chattering with the cold as he looked down on the street below from his vantage point. Everything was quiet and there was an eeriness about the stillness of the night that troubled him. He knew via the walkie-talkie that they had broken into the vault and soon they’d all be rich beyond their wildest dreams. He sat back against the wall and began to think about what had been worrying him earlier. It seemed strange that he’d not seen one single police patrol car or a uniform officer pounding the beat all night. He’d seen a few patrol cars the previous night and knew that when David had been lookout a tramp had been arrested by a uniform officer and a paddy wagon had turned up. Clifford began to wonder if uniform patrols had been told to stay away from the area, or was it just pure coincidence?

Inside the vault John and Danny were still breaking open the deposit boxes. Silas was sweating heavily as he crawled to the café cellar with pillowcases of money and valuables. He then took these upstairs and placed them by the back door to be loaded into the van when they were all ready to leave. Although they were exhausted the euphoria and exhilaration at what they were about to get away with was pumping the blood through their veins and keeping them going.

Silas went back into the tunnel to collect more loot and stood up so that his head was sticking up through the hole in the vault floor.

‘Is nearly 4 a.m. and sun will rise in hour or so.’

Danny looked at John. ‘We must have amassed a fortune so far. Maybe we should call it a night.’

John bent down to look at the heavy combination-dial safe that was embedded into the wall and floor between the rows of deposit drawers.

‘We open this — it’s gotta have somethin’ of big value inside. I’d reckon a load of cash, or really expensive jewellery.’

Silas shook his head. ‘Come on, John, is not good idea. I agree with Danny, we have plenty and need to load up the van.’

‘Use the torch to cut it open,’ John barked at Danny.

‘I’m happy with what we got so let’s just get out of here,’ Danny said impatiently.

John was livid. ‘What’s your fucking problem? I brought you in on this job and I’m running the show, so do as I say.’

‘You want what’s in it then you do it,’ Danny shouted.

‘I fuckin’ will,’ John said and hauled the oxyacetylene rig over to the safe. He asked Danny to turn it on and light it for him, which against his better judgement he did.

‘You help Silas load the van and come back for the last few sacks and whatever I find in here,’ John said.

Still troubled by the lack of police patrols Clifford started to walk round the car park. It was a near full moon so he had a good view. He looked at all the buildings and windows overlooking the bank and café to see if there were any lights on and noticed the derelict flats that were to one side and slightly set back from the car park. He could see that all except one flat, on the second floor, were boarded up but there were no lights on in the premises. Using his binoculars he looked closely at the net curtain and suddenly saw it move slightly but there was no sign of anyone peering. It crossed his mind that it may just have been the draught, but the night was still with little or no breeze. Through the binoculars he saw two tramps come from the rear alleyway of the flats. He recognized one as the man he’d kicked and knew from the way they moved at speed towards the car park they were not drunks. Fearing the worst he pressed the walkie-talkie communication switch.

‘Get the fuck out of there now! The rozzers are on to us,’ he whispered frantically.

Clifford moved around the wall of the car park and looked over to see one tramp hurriedly enter the building’s stairwell and the other run up the car ramp.

‘They’re in the car park, John, I gotta try and get outta here,’ he said quickly and waited. ‘John, John, can you hear me? Get out now!’ But still there was no reply.

In the flat Bradfield swore when he heard the transmission over the CB loudspeaker and realized that Clifford had somehow discovered that the police were watching. He was worried all hell would break loose now that he had lost the element of surprise.

Bradfield radioed the officers in the car park. ‘Target on rooftop making escape, cut him off and arrest now. Be warned he is extremely dangerous and violent!’

‘We’ve got to move in now, Spence. Are you ready to go?’

‘I just spoke with Stanley at the shoe shop and I don’t think the suspects in the bank heard Clifford,’ Gibbs said.

‘How could they not hear them when we all did here?’

‘Stanley said the Greek and Danny loaded some bags in the van a couple of minutes ago and went back inside. If they’d heard Clifford they’d all be well on their toes by now,’ Gibbs replied.

Frank raised his hand and waved it to attract Bradfield’s attention.

‘Not now, Frank, I’m trying to think.’

For once Frank wasn’t prepared to shy away from speaking up. ‘I believe Spence is right.’

‘How would you bloody well know?’

‘Well, I don’t know for certain, but it can only be one of two things.’

‘What are you talking about?’ Bradfield asked in an angry tone.

‘The batteries on the walkie-talkie have gone flat, or they’ve taken it into the vault where it won’t work.’

‘Of course it will, we just heard Clifford on it.’

‘His works and sends transmissions. Problem is they won’t hear it in the vault because the signal can’t penetrate the steel surrounds.’

Bradfield’s anger abated in an instant and he smiled realizing that in all their euphoria it had never crossed the suspects’ minds that a walkie-talkie would be useless inside the vault. He was now almost certain that John, Silas and Danny were still totally unaware of what was happening outside the bank.

Clifford ran down the ramps of three floors and finally found a parked car that he could hide behind in the hope the officers would run straight up to the top floor. His heart was pounding as he lay flat on his belly in the small gap between the front bumper of the car and the wall, so he could see the feet of anyone passing or looking around. He thought about the others and assumed they had heard him and were now frantically trying to get away with the stolen goods and money. Hearing the sound of someone running up the ramp Clifford held his breath as best he could. From under the car he saw feet and heard a voice.

‘We’re nearly at the top, guv. No one’s passed us so he’s still up there and his only way to escape is to jump.’

Clifford waited until he could no longer hear the officer’s footsteps. He got up and took off his jacket. Holding it up against the driver’s-side window he used his elbow to dampen the sound as he smashed it open. Once inside he felt under the ignition barrel and ripped out the cables. Hotwiring a car was second nature to him.

As Bradfield crossed the road with his team he walked with a determined and confident stride. He radioed the officers sent to arrest Clifford and asked if they’d got him. One of them said they’d reached the top floor but Bentley wasn’t there and must have somehow got away.