It was hard to say.
‘Mrs Whipplegate will give you a hundred pounds each, so that you can cope with every eventuality. But I warn you: no drinking. I want ice-cold brains, or none at all. Remember that this is a big job. The Green Toe Gang are sitting pretty at their secret warehouse. Make it so they don’t know what hit ’em. Our information says there’s no more than two guarding the place. They’ll be easy meat for five of you. It’s vital that we get everything, except some of the poppy seed for Jack’s lads to find next day, as well as a few tenners with the ink still wet. If the job fails, you’re done for — every one of you. But there’s no reason why it should. Some of us have been working on the details for a long time. I need hardly say that there’ll be healthy bonuses thrown around afterwards. Now, let’s do a bit more studying. We’ll carry on till midnight, and go through it again between ten and eleven tomorrow morning. This is an all or nothing operation.’
I thought he was going to add that the fate of European civilisation depended on it. I wouldn’t have been surprised. The only reason he didn’t was because he didn’t think of it. My guts were bubbling. I was in it up to the top of my head, and there was no way I could back out.
Twenty-Four
At half past twelve on The Day I checked the car out of a garage in Kentish Town and made my way to the North Circular through a maelstrom of traffic. I intended joining the M1, which would take me into Northamptonshire, so why did I go right, and hook up with the A10 for Cambridge? The fact that I couldn’t say gave me hope for the future, in that at least there would never be a dull moment in my life, or in anybody else’s I happened to be close to.
But I was truly mystified at the time because, having been programmed to do one thing, a force to which I could give no name pressured me gently but decisively into doing another. As in every case when I do a crazy thing, I began to see reason in the move. If I went straight to the area of Buckshot Farm I would be so tempted to reconnoitre the place that my description would be taken fifty times before the others arrived and we moved in. Moggerhanger had cautioned us against going to within twenty miles of the locality before Zero Hour, but I would park by Snowdrop Wood and, with map case and field glasses, Wellingtons, combat cap, and air pistol cocked, sneak through to have a look at the nut we were to crack. I would be spotted of course by someone shaking carpets out of a back window. I would then return to the lane to find a couple of youths joy-riding away in the Roller. Those in the house would in the meantime clear everything out, and leave before we could get our hands on the dope and cash. So it was safer for all concerned if I did a very wide approach ride to get there, and what better place to call at on the way than Upper Mayhem?
Everything, on paper, was mapped out, yet I felt as if I was taking a step into the unknown. My brain encompassed Moggerhanger’s arrangements with no trouble, but my own private scheme had to dovetail into them, and for the moment I didn’t see how it could. I didn’t take easily to such fine-point organisation, because no room was left for ingenuity, flair, improvisation — those qualities (if such they are) of British genius that put them for five hundred years under the heel of the Roman gestapo. All the same, the programme seemed tight — and unnecessarily complicated — and I sniffed weaknesses everywhere, though knew I had to abide by the plan for safety’s sake. Only if something went wrong would I come into my own.
It was hot, and the sky was clear, but I resisted the temptation to stop for a few pints of lager, or even to listen to Moggerhanger’s Favourites as I rolled along. On paper everything looked fine, but what if one of the cars got banged into by a juggernaut on the motorway and burst into flames? Or had a puncture and found the spare tyre flat? I supposed we could afford to lose one car, as long as it didn’t contain either of the assault parties. Again, what if it was the annual general meeting of the Green Toe Gang, and a score of the worst villains were present that evening? Everything had been taken care of, Moggerhanger said. Even Jack Lanthorn was on our side, the biggest bent copper in the business. What more do you want? I asked, as I pulled up outside Upper Mayhem railway station.
Bill Straw was asleep on a swinging seat in the garden, the Daily Mirror spread over his face to preserve his complexion. Dismal lay by his side, head between paws, and neither looked up as I opened the squeaky gate. Maria, her belly certainly higher than last time, came out with a tray, ice chinking in a tall glass, and a dogbowl full of water. The tinkling ice woke Bill, and a smile came onto his face before he let the newspaper slip off. ‘Oh my darling! Another lovely drink. Oh — hello, Michael, what brings you here?’
Maria kissed him, and he held her close. They snogged awhile, the most tender-loving couple in the world. ‘Ain’t she wonderful? She’s perfect, Michael, perfect. Aren’t you, my pregnant beauty? You’re perfect, aren’t you? Aren’t you, my duck?’
‘You wonderful too.’ She set the waterbowl before Dismal.
I kicked him, but not too hard. ‘Don’t you know me, at least?’
He yawned, rolled a lolling tongue back into his mouth, then stood on two legs and rubbed his cold nose against my cheek. Formality satisfied, he gobbled up the water in two licks.
‘Your mother came last night, and went this morning. Said she was going to Holland to see Bridgitte. You can never tell, though, with a woman like that. She took a bit of a shine to Maria, but I put my foot down. I had to, Michael. I looked her in the eye and said: “She’s mine. Leave her alone.” And she backed off. I just had to be firm.’
‘Get me a drink, Maria,’ I said, ‘for God’s sake. Only, no alcohol.’
Bill stood up. ‘She’s a treasure, Michael. We’re as much in love as two school kids. I never believed it could happen. I can’t tell you. I’m glad you’ve come, though. We’re out of money. Can you spare a bob or two? The local shops are complaining, so I’d like to fob ’em off with a bit.’
I gave him fifty quid out of my hundred. ‘Let that last a few days.’
He put on his all-knowing bottom-dog Nottingham look. ‘You’re out on a job, are you?’
I nodded. ‘It’s D Day. Twenty-one hundred hours. Tonight.’
He drained his glass. Maria came out with mine. ‘Bring some more, sweetheart, will you?’
‘You’re a bone-idle bastard,’ I said. ‘Why don’t you lift a finger and do it yourself?’
He laughed. ‘Do you know, Michael, I’d be glad to, but she wouldn’t let me. She’d be offended. Wouldn’t you, duck? I tried taking my carpet slippers off once, and she sulked half a day. It broke my heart to see that disappointed look on her face. Well, she does love me, and I love her. Besides, you don’t know how long it will last.’
Part of the fence had been painted. ‘Who did that?’
‘Well, I mean, she insisted. Said she didn’t have enough to do. You know me, Michael. I’m not a cruel man. I didn’t want to stop her.’
I envied him. ‘You’ve fallen on your feet.’
‘I know. But think of all the times I’ve split my head open.’
‘I don’t see many scars.’
‘That’s because I’ve got a good head of hair. Nine o’clock tonight, is it? The Green Toe Gang get their comeuppance?’
I had no secrets from Bill, nor him any from me. ‘We’re after their warehouse.’