1953 - The Things Men Do (21 page)

Neither of them seemed interested in me. I glanced into my driving mirror. They hadn't moved, and the detective had resumed his conversation. I was aware that my hands were damp as I drove into the Park and headed for Queen's Road.

The clock on the dashboard showed five minutes past eleven. I reckoned I would be in Ilmer at noon. The traffic at this hour was light, and I got down to Shepherd's Bush without the usual crawl through the bottleneck at Notting Hill Gate.

Once on Western Avenue, I sent the Humber along at a fast clip, and I reached Princes Risborough a few minutes after eleven forty-five. A mile or so beyond the little town, I turned left where the sign post indicated Ilmer, a mile and a half down the road.

Ahead of me and walking towards me was a woman pushing a pram. I slowed down and pulled up near her.

"I'm looking for Monk's Farm," I said. "Can you direct me, please?"

"Take the first turning on the right. It's up a narrow lane," the woman told me. "About a couple of miles from here. You can't miss it. It's the only farm up the lane."

"Thanks. I hear it's for sale."

She shook her head.

"It was for sale; about six months ago. It's been sold now."

"Someone told me it's coming into the market again. I thought I'd look at it. You don't happen to know the owner's name, do you?"

"I haven't seen them. I don't believe they've moved in yet. The place was empty the last time I passed it; that would be last Saturday."

"Well, now I've come so far I might as well look at it. Thank you for your help."

I engaged gear and drove on. About two and a half miles farther on I spotted the turning on the right. About fifty yards beyond the turning was a public house. I drove to it and pulled into the car park.

A big, red-faced man came out of the pub and nodded to me.

"All right to leave my car here?" I asked. "I feel like a long walk. I may not get back until late."

"That's all right sir," he returned, and gave me a friendly grin. "Bless me if I'd want to walk if I had a car like that."

"You would if you'd been cooped up in London all the week." I pointed back to the lane. "Where does that lead to?"

"Monk's Farm, but there's a footpath beyond the farm that'll take you to Thame if you're planning to walk that far."

"Sounds fine. Thanks." I took five shillings from my pocket and gave it to him. "Just in case I don't see you again."

"Thank you, sir." He looked surprised. "I hope I'll see you in the bar before you go. You should have a thirst after a walk like that. It's going to be hot this afternoon."

I waved to him and set off towards the lane. When I was out of sight of the pub, I checked Berry's automatic I had been carrying in my hip pocket. The clip held six .38 bullets and one in the breech. I snapped on the safety catch and transferred the gun to my coat pocket.

I walked up the narrow, twisting lane for perhaps half a mile, then through the trees I caught sight of a white, thatched roof farmhouse standing a hundred yards or so back from the lane.

I climbed up the bank, and holding on to a tree trunk to steady myself, I studied the building.

As far as I could judge it was a seven-room house in a wilderness of a garden which offered plenty of good cover. Tall grass, straggling shrubs and several old shady trees surrounded it. The concrete drive was moss-covered and was still caked with the hard mud of last winter.

Opposite the house, forming two sides of a square were dilapidated farm buildings: a barn, a cow shed, three pig sties and stables.

At the back of the farmhouse was a small, overgrown kitchen garden, and beyond that a dense wood of silver birch and nutstems.

I scrambled down the bank and continued up the lane. I moved cautiously, my ears pricked for the slightest sound. The lane twisted every few yards, and anyone coming down the lane would be on top of me before I saw them.

At the last twist in the lane I saw the white farm gate, and I stopped, just out of sight. For some moments I studied the ground ahead of me, deciding the quickest and easiest approach.

Finally I pushed my way through the hedge that lined the lane into the tall, overgrown grass of a paddock that flanked the house. My army training in jungle warfare now came to my aid. I moved forward, bent double, slowly and carefully until I reached the hedge that divided the kitchen garden from the paddock.

I was safe there as the hedge was high, and I straightened up. I had trouble in finding a gap in the hedge, but after moving some yards to my right I found one that gave me a good view of the side and front of the house.

I sat down, close to the hedge and surveyed the house. I remained there for over half an hour without seeing any sign of life, and I began to wonder if Berry had lied to me.

They might have changed their minds about coming to this farmhouse, although to the right of the paddock in which I was sitting, I could see a big field that would be suitable for a helicopter landing.

Suppose the helicopter had already picked them up? I thought this unlikely. It would be too risky to make such a landing in daylight.

The local police all over the country must have been warned to look out for an unauthorized aircraft making a landing. Escape by air was the most obvious way out for Dix, and the police must have realized it.

I wondered if I should take a chance and go up to the house. I was pretty sure I could approach within yards of it without being seen. I might get an opportunity to see into some of the rooms if I got closer.

I was about to get to my feet when the front door opened and Joe came out.

The sight of him sent a tingle down my spine.

He was wearing a short-sleeved sports shirt and grey flannel trousers. Over his shoulder he carried a leather holster from which protruded the butt of a heavy automatic. He moved slowly down the drive to the farm gate and looked down the lane. Then he glanced at his wrist-watch, scowled, and again looked down the lane. It was, pretty obvious he was expecting someone who was late, and I wondered who it could be.

After a few minutes, he turned and walked back to the house. As he reached the front door, Louis appeared. He was in a baggy flannel fit, and I could tell by the bulge under his coat that he too was carrying a gun.

"No sign of them yet?" he asked, stepping out into the bright sunlight.

"No. What the hell can have happened to them?" Joe said uneasily.

In the quiet of their surroundings their voices came clearly to me.

"Think anything's wrong?" Louis asked. His thin effeminate face was pale and there were dark circles around his eyes.

"How the hell do I know?" Joe snarled. He looked at his watch. "They should have been here an hour ago."

"Well, come on in and eat. The stuffs getting cold."

They went into the house and shut the door.

I got quickly to my feet.

Were they waiting for Dix and Berry? I wondered as I crawled through the gap in the hedge. Were they the only two in the house?

I decided to take a chance and get into the house to overhear more of their conversation.

There was plenty of cover up to four or five yards of the house, and I crawled forward silently without the slightest misgivings of being seen.

The window of one of the rooms at the back of the house was open. I would have to cross a path to reach it, and the path offered no cover.

I had no intention of being spotted so early in the game, so I changed direction and began to crawl towards the front of the house.

I kept on until I had a good view of the front windows, I spotted Joe and Louis in the room by the front door. They were sitting at a table, eating lunch.

Satisfied that I stood little chance of being seen, I retraced my steps to the back of the house, crossed the path to the open window and peered in.

The room was small and empty of furniture, and dust lay thickly on the floorboards. I swung my leg over the sill and climbed quietly into the room. Crossing over to the door, I turned the handle and very carefully eased the door open. I looked into a long passage that connected the front door with the back door.

From the front room I heard a murmur of voices, but the door was closed and I couldn't hear what was being said. I moved out into the passage. To my left was a flight of stairs that led to the upper rooms. I decided it would be safer to be upstairs than down. I moved swiftly to the stairs and began to mount them. Halfway up I trod on a loose board that let out a squeaking creak that jerked my heart into my mouth. I took the rest of the stairs two at a time on tip-toe, and had just reached the landing, out of sight of the hall, when I heard the front room door jerk open.

"Didn't you hear something?" Louis asked, a quaver in his voice. "It sounded as if someone was in the house."

"For the love of Mike, pipe down," Joe growled. "You're as jumpy as a kangaroo. This damned house is full of rats. I saw one as big as a cat in the kitchen."

"A rat wouldn't make that noise. It sounded. . . ."

"Aw, shut up! Go and have a look if you're that scared."

"I keep thinking of Berry."

"Think his ghost is here?" Joe sneered and laughed.

"You don't have to worry about him. He's dead by now."

"We shouldn't have left him, Joe. That was a hell of a thing to do."

"I didn't stop you. You could have stayed and held his hand if you wanted to. Why didn't you? You were the first out of his place. You couldn't get out fast enough."

"We should have brought him here."

"Don't talk wet. His back was broken. We couldn't have brought him all this way. He would have screamed his head off. We were crazy to have taken him back to his fiat. We should have put a bullet through his head and left him in the street."

I heard Louis walk back into the room.

"I wouldn't have stood for that Joe."

"It's because you've been so damned chicken-hearted about Berry we're in this mess now. When a guy breaks his back, he's had it. Ed would have shot him, but no, you wouldn't wear it. Okay, now we wonder where Ed is. If we had stuck together instead of rushing off to Queen's Avenue, he would have been with us now."

"What are we going to do if he doesn't show up?"

"What do you think? We get out at ten tonight whether he's here or not."

"Maybe Hacket won't take us without Ed."

"You leave Hacket to me. He'll take us," Joe said grimly.

"Shut that damned door and come and finish your grub."

I heard the door shut and their voices died to a murmur.

At least, I learned something. Dix wasn't here, but there were expecting him, and they were due off tonight at ten.

I wondered about Dix. If his face had been stained blue as Rawson suggested, then I couldn't see how he could get to the farm. Every policeman in the district would be on the lookout for him. The chances were he would hide up somewhere in London.

I put him out of my mind for the moment, and moving very cautiously, I explored the upstairs rooms. The front room, over the room Joe and Louis were in, offered the most likely hiding place. It still contained some furniture: a bed, a cupboard, grimy curtains at the window and a plush covered arm-chair with the springs on the floor.

The cupboard was large enough for me to stand in, and I left it open so I could step inside if I heard anyone coming.

I went over to the window which overlooked the drive in and the white farm gate. I could see some way down the lane.

As I stood looking down the drive, Joe and Louis came out and walked towards the gate.

Moving quickly I went into the passage, and looked at the other room on the same landing.

In a small back room I found a suitcase, lying on a bed. I tried the catch and it flew up. I opened the case. Among a jumble of clothes were twenty or thirty wash-leather bags. I undid the string around one of them and peered inside. It contained a handful of small diamonds. A quick examination of three other of the little bags told me this was part of the loot from the mail van.

I closed the case and snapped down the lock, then I stood hesitating, wondering what I should do.

The sound of footsteps in the hall made me move silently to the door and into the passage.

"One of us ought to go into the village and get a newspaper," Joe was saying. "We ought to know what's going on."

"Then you go," Louis said sharply. "I'm not moving from here until the plane arrives."

"Maybe there'll be news of Ed," Joe said.

"Maybe there will. If you're so anxious for news, get the paper yourself."

"I'd go if I was sure the papers had something," Joe said.

"Come to think of it, they must have been printing when we pulled the job."

"That's what I call a bright brain," Louis sneered. "Did you think I was going to fall for that wet gag?"

"What are you getting at?"

"I'm not all that of a mug. I'm not leaving you alone here with all those diamonds. They might get up and walk."

"You're crazy!" Joe's voice sharpened with anger.

"Where do you imagine I'd go?"

"I don't know and don't care. There's a hundred thousand pounds' worth of diamonds up there, and there's the car in the barn. I'm taking damn good care neither the diamonds nor the car moves out of here."

"Aw, shut up! You make me sick "

"I hate those diamonds being out of my sight for a minute. I'm going up to look at them now."

I moved quietly along the passage to the front room. As I stepped into the cupboard I heard Louis and Joe mounting the stairs.

"You wouldn't trust your own mother," Joe said angrily.

"Oh, yes I would. She's dead," Louis returned. "I trust dead people so long as I'm sure they're dead."

As they came along the passage, I pulled the cupboard door shut, and my hand went into my pocket and closed over the butt of the gun.

I heard them go into the back room.

"Well, I hope you're satisfied," Joe said.

"We'd look a couple of mugs if Ed has already skipped.

He's got the bulk of the stuff," Louis said, coming back along the passage. "What's to stop him meeting Hacket some other place and leaving us flat?"