The Criminal Escapades of Geoffrey Larkin (29 page)

The information that Simone eventually received from the taxi driver, which had cost him twenty euros, led him to a block of modern flats on the outskirts of Castiglion Fiorentino. The taxi driver did not know the German clerk's name or the number of the flat, only that he worked locally and lived in this block.

Simone parked his car and walked to the entrance of a small courtyard that led to a flight of steps leading to the front door. His arrival coincided with that of an old man carrying a bag of groceries coming from a shop across the road.

His polite enquiries gave him all the information he required from this very talkative neighbour of Werner Fisher. The old German lived on his own since his Italian wife had died several years ago. They had no children and he had no visitors from his wife's family. Apparently, they had disagreed with the marriage that had taken place over fifty years ago. He rented flat No. 78 from the same landlord that also owned his apartment. He thought Werner Fisher was an insurance clerk at one of the prestigious offices within the walls of the nearby city. He had just retired and he was out at the moment but he usually came back before dark.

Simone thanked the old man. He had no need to ask any more questions as Werner Fisher's neighbour had given him all the information he required. He would return to his car and wait. It should not be for long. He had a good description of the retired German clerk from the taxi driver as well as from his neighbour.

The old man watched the well-dressed young Italian return to the shady part of the road and get into his parked car before he turned and entered the building. He had two flights of stairs to climb which aggravated his painful knee joints. He decided that when he reached his flat he would ring up again and complain about the faulty lift. It was the third time this week that it had been out of commission.

‘That's a battered old machine for someone so well-dressed,' he said aloud to himself, as he looked through the stair window while he stopped for breath half way up the second flight of stairs.
It's odd that Werner Fisher has no callers for months then he gets two within a few minutes of each other. I wonder if I should tell the young man in the handmade, patent leather shoes about the Inglise who called earlier
, pondered Signor Berendese who had never in his life been able to afford shoes like the pair his young country man was wearing. He had worn boots all his life, except for one pair of cheap black shoes kept for very special occasions like funerals, weddings or christenings.

No, I don't think I will. I don't fancy going all the way down then coming all the way back up these stairs again and I do really need to put these groceries in my fridge.
Having regained his breath after the short stop, the old man continued his journey up the rest of stairs to his one bedroom apartment.

John Bolton enjoyed driving the Mercedes. The journey to the villa through the pleasant countryside was uneventful and as the powerful engine pulled the motor easily up the limestone drive he noticed that his mate beside him was asleep. He also noticed something that he had not seen before; his friend's normally dark hair was turning white. Geoff Larkin was prematurely turning grey!

That's unusual for someone who is only in his early twenties,
he thought as he stopped the car outside the front entrance of the villa, turning off the engine before waking his friend by shaking his shoulder.

‘Wakey! Wakey! Geoff, we've arrived.'

Geoff woke with a start
.
He had just been dreaming that he was in the German tank and every time he tried to get out through the hatch the Italian police opened fire on him with automatic weapons.

‘I'll go to the kitchen to see what's on the cards for dinner,' said John after helping Geoff to remove the two bikes that had been fastened in the boot and then proceeded to assemble them.

‘Here, take one of these bikes,' Geoff said, pushing the assembled bike towards John while he strolled around to the rear of the villa, pushing the other bike in front of him.

Sitting on a chair by the pool on his own with a pot of coffee on a side table was Werner Fisher.

Great,
thought Geoff,
he's on his own. I'll strike while the iron's hot.

‘
Hi, Werner, how are you today?'

‘Today I am fine, Geoff,' said Werner Fisher with a smile on his face. ‘My comrade, Peer, is issuing instructions to his staff in the kitchen. He too is happy!' Geoff laughed at the old man's remark.

‘Herr Fisher,' said Geoff, becoming more formal and respectful, ‘you were saying yesterday about the size of the gun on the tank.'

‘Ah yes, I remember. The calibre was 75mm, not 90mm as the Italian authorities have put on the plaque near the Sturmgeschuttz Mark III.'

Geoff took a deep breath now for the crunch question. ‘Is there any other country still using this gun and its ammunition, Werner?'

There was a long pause before Werner answered. ‘Funny you should ask that question. I was talking to Peer this morning because, as you know, he worked for an old established Austrian engineering company. Apparently, during the war and the ensuing occupation by German forces of the Balkans, his engineering company supplied machinery for producing the gun to one of those occupied countries. Would you believe that after the break-up of the Communist Federation a representative of one of these states approached his company enquiring about re-tooling equipment for the 75mm gun?'

‘What did the engineering company do, Werner?' asked Geoff, trying to make his question sound casual. Werner thought for a few moments before replying.

‘I do not know the outcome. Peer did not say and then our conversation moved on and we discussed other matters.' Werner Fisher looked at Geoff for several moments, making him feel rather uncomfortable under his steady gaze.

‘The other matter Peer Merkel and I discussed, Geoff, was you and your three friends.' Geoff winced at Werner's blunt statement. Whatever was coming he would have to try and bluff this one out. It was much too early to divulge his plans at this stage in the proceedings.

‘We're just here on holiday,' he stammered. ‘Peer Merkel is our interpreter and you are his guest.' He realised as soon as he had finished that he had not convinced Werner they were simply tourists.

‘Peer Merkel and I are quite old men,' said Werner.

You're telling me nothing new there,
thought Geoff.

‘We have many years' experience of life between us,' continued Werner. ‘We both feel you are running away from a serious matter. You are being followed and you have much more cash than an ordinary group of tourists would carry. Everything you pay for is in cash and you also use a false set of passports. It is clear that you want no one to know where or who you are!'

The clever old pair of codgers have hit the nail on the head, right good and proper,
Geoff thought as his brain clicked into overdrive.
Where do we go from here? They already know we are on the run so it's pointless trying to deny that. We're up the creek without a paddle and, in other words, if they don't agree to play ball, we're in the shit!

Having weighed up the pros and cons, Geoff decided he had nothing to lose. It would be pointless having a meeting with the rest of the lads to discuss the situation because he knew all they would say at the end of a lot of talking was, ‘We'll leave it up to you Geoff'.

So, sitting down, he told Werner Fisher the complete story from lifting the suitcase to the present time. When he told him his plans concerning the tank the old man jumped up making Geoff jump as well.

‘Verruckt! Verboten! You are crazy, absolutely crazy. You will blow up the town.' Werner Fisher was struggling to emphasise in words to Geoff the impossibility of his plan succeeding. ‘It! It! It would be easier to turn red grapes into white wine than for your plan to have a snow flake in hell's chance of being successful.'

Geoff was quite amazed, not about the old German's condemnation of his plan but his perfect English, even when he was excited, as he certainly was at the moment. But even Werner Fisher could not contain himself any longer; he slipped back into his native tongue and proceeded to give Geoff a long sentence in German.

The proceedings were interrupted by Derek Bolton coming to tell them that dinner was about to be served and Peer Merkel would be deeply offended if it was allowed to go cold.

‘I do not know what to say,' said Werner as he and Geoff made their way towards the dining room.

‘I will discuss what you have told me with my friend, Peer and then we will call you. Even though you have been very generous to both of us, I think it would be wise and much healthier for Peer and me if we departed and left the company of you four gentlemen.'

The statement hit Geoff like a bombshell. He needed to find some more time.

‘Well,' he replied, ‘before you and Peer make your final decision let me have a word with you both. Will you do that Werner? Please!'

There was several moments' silence while Werner Fisher gave the matter some thought. ‘You are a very persistent person, Geoffrey. I will discuss it all with Peer after dinner then we will get back to you. Now let us eat, otherwise my friend Peer will be in a very unforgiving mood.'

Geoff was rather quiet during dinner but this went unnoticed as the other three lads were in a jovial mood, especially Sooty, as Derek Bolton had been trying since they had arrived to teach him how to swim properly instead of his version of a dog paddle. Today was the first time, using the breast stroke, that he had swum the width of the pool on his own. Geoff felt rather envious of them. They were enjoying their stay in Italy; to them it was a great adventure holiday, all expenses paid, whereas he was constantly thinking and trying to plan ahead, all in order to save their skins from being hung out to dry.

What would he be doing to try and find them, if he was in the heavy mob's shoes? How efficient were the police over here? Had they been here too long already? Should they be thinking of moving on? The heavy mob knew they were somewhere in this district.
If I was them, this is the area where I would be concentrating my search. As comfortable as the big Mercedes was, it was also a liability standing out like a sore thumb, it could well lead the mob directly to the villa.

After what was again, an exceptional evening meal, it was Sooty's turn to wash the dishes while the Bolton brothers decided to go for a spin on the bikes before it got too dark. Meanwhile, Peer and Werner went into the lounge to talk.

Geoff wanted space to analyse the situation so he decided he would go and sit by the pool. It was a very peaceful spot overlooking the nearby fields with their sunflowers all in full bloom. It was, as he had to admit, a very pleasant relaxing part of the country, in fact it was absolutely perfect if it was not for the Italian police and the heavy mob trying their hardest to spoil it for them all.

First of all, Geoff decided that if Peer and Werner decided to leave and he could not persuade them otherwise, he would offer to take them to their destination which, he presumed, would be Austria. That way they still had someone to translate for them and they would also be leaving this hot area. With regards to the cash situation, if he was going to leave, he would try the credit cards again and, if for any reason they had not been stopped, he would hammer those to rebuild his cash pile.

As far as the future was concerned, he would have to play the cards that were dealt out to them, as Sir Reginald would have said in this situation,
‘You've made your bed young man, now you've got to lie on it'.

‘Geoffrey!' Geoff's concentration was broken by a shout from the patio doors and looking up he could see Werner Fisher was beckoning him.
Mmm, they must have come to their decision,
he thought as he followed Werner back into the lounge. He sat down on an easy chair opposite a sofa that both Peer Merkel and his friend, Werner, were occupying.

‘We have discussed in detail your crazy, crazy plan and Peer agrees with me that it is impossible for you to succeed. You will either blow yourself up or completely destroy the town's Municipal Building. You will, inevitably, be caught, spending at least the next twenty years in an Italian jail. My good friend Peer and I do not wish to be your companions in that hell hole!'

‘You and Peer won't be here when we do the job,' Geoff replied before Werner could say any more. ‘You'll be in Austria.'

‘In Austria? I do not understand!' said Werner looking a little confused and taken back.

‘You mean you do not wish us to assist you at all?'

‘Yes! I require information and possibly some instructions but when we pull the job you two will be in Austria starting your retirement as you've planned. Your ex-office staff knows that's what you've had in mind for a good while. If we pull it off you'll meet us over the border in Austria. We will be taking all the risks but we need your knowledge and any dodgy contacts you may know in the banking system to disperse of what will be a massive amount of silver bullion.' Geoff quickly continued before Peer or Werner could interrupt.

‘Think it through Werner. You and Peer will be on state pensions, with possibly a small private pension, but not enough to give you the lifestyle like you've had here in these last few days. It could all be yours. If we get caught, what would be the use of dragging you and Peer into the mire? It would be no advantage to us. You two would just walk away. Think about it, Werner, you've nothing to lose and a completely new lifestyle to gain. As you are both well aware, as you get older, private medicine can be expensive, especially if you want the best. You would not be dependent on your National Health system.'

Geoff stopped to get his breath while Werner explained to Peer, in his native tongue, everything Geoff had to say. He had got them thinking and that was half the battle. He had to continue to build on the no risk angle and he might, just might, be able to get them on board.

‘You said yourself, Werner, that the staff at the bank who you served loyally for all those many years did not appreciate your work; they were constantly calling you names behind your back. As you obviously still like this area so much there would be nothing stopping you, in a few years' time when the dust had settled, buying a place here for you and Peer to use as a holiday home.' Geoff stopped there to allow what he had already said to Werner to sink in.

‘Even if we thought about it a little more, where would you get the shells for the tank?
'

He's thinking about it, he's taken the bait,
thought Geoff to himself.

‘Albania! It's just a ferry ride away and they, the Albanians as Peer said, are still using the 75mm shells, the same as used in the gun of the Mark 111 tank. I have a contact in London. He can get you anything you want.'

Geoff was exaggerating a lot the capabilities of Jock the Fence but if enough cash was available he was sure the Scot had contacts that could produce the goods. As Sir Reginald would say, ‘
A drowning man will grab at a straw'.
Werner looked at the frail figure in front of him, his mind turning over what he had just heard.

‘I will talk a little more with Peer.' He then carried on talking to his friend in German.
Well,
Geoff thought to himself,
I'm glad that I have bitten the bullet, and, as the saying goes,‘nothing ventured, nothing gained!'

John and Derek Bolton returned from their bicycle ride. They had followed what looked like a farm track which they could see continued over the nearby range of hills and they assumed it would eventually drop down towards the main city of Arezzo.

On their return journey they told Geoff they had come upon a man with the same little Jack Russell dog, which they had nearly flattened in the car earlier. He had not been aware of them because of the quietness of the bikes but when he did see them he hurriedly left the path and went quickly into the nearby woods. His dog stopped though to give them several defiant barks before scampering off after its owner.

This created another worry for Geoff on top of all the other problems; there were strangers wandering around in the vicinity.

Sooty joined the trio having finished his duties in the kitchen. Geoff decided now was the time to tell the group his plan while they were all together.

‘Right, lads, while we are all here I need to tell you what the situation is? Our cash situation is becoming desperate.'

He stopped looking around at their expectant upturned faces allowing what he had just said to register, before continuing, ‘I've devised a plan that would set us up so that we could live this lavish lifestyle that we have enjoyed and have become accustomed to, and allow it to continue for much longer than the credit cards' cash will last. Also we could disappear off the radar so the police and the other mob will hopefully loose our tracks, permanently.'

He stopped again. He now had their full, undivided attention. ‘Unfortunately, as with everything, where there are great rewards it's only fair to tell you of the enormous risks involved.' He stopped for a few more moments, took several deep breaths then continued, ‘If we get caught it could mean spending twenty years in an Italian jail or risk blowing ourselves to kingdom come. The alternative is to stick it out here until our money runs out or until the London heavies eventually get lucky and find us. Of course, if the Italian police pull us in they might stick us into one of their jails until they deport us to the UK.'