Give The Devil His Due (21 page)

BOOK: Give The Devil His Due
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       An hour and a half later we pulled up outside Phil's. It was 12.42 p.m. A few minutes more and the four of us were on our way to meet Vaughan Buchanan, safecracker extraordinaire.

 

 

***

 

Winding our way through narrow roads, the beautiful Cotswold countryside was a joy to behold. I’d have a serious think about relocating if ever we succeeded in our quest to find the missing note. Even in winter it looked glorious, a far cry from my local scenery.

       Driving down a little country lane we were in the hands of our navigator-in-chief, Neil Columbus Fairburn. ‘I'm sure it's somewhere near here. Swing the car round. At that last junction we should have gone left instead of right ... I think.’

       ‘Do you think or do you know?’ I asked.

       ‘I think I know,’ Neil said.

       I turned the car round we got back to the junction and took the alternative route. After a mile down a different lane he said, ‘No, I bloody knew it, I was right the first time, turn around and head back the other way.’

       Peach asked dryly, ‘Remind me again what it is that you two do for a living?’

       I wasn't having that. ‘Whoa there Texan! You can fuck right off. It's not me who's lost, it's him. I'm just the one who has to follow his piss-poor directions.’ It was true; I wasn’t having my credibility trashed because Mr Magellan had turned into Mr Magoo.

       ‘That's it! That's the house. There; you've just gone past it.’ Neil’s sense of direction had suddenly returned to him.

       I reversed slowly. Set back off the road, through a pair of rather grand gates, was Newton Manor. Talk about exquisite. Leading up to it, a meandering shingle driveway which encircled the small ornamental fountain in front of the house. One could simply motor around the water feature and face the correct direction to exit the property. No three-point turns needed here.

       ‘What are you waiting for Will? Drive in.’ I was a little intimidated by this imposing residence.

       ‘Are you sure? My cab looks a bit out of place.’

       ‘Don't be stupid. He's a good friend. He won't mind.’

       Phil agreed. ‘Yeah, if he has a go at you about the taxi Will, you can always tell him that you might be part of Britain’s peasant underclass, but at least you haven't done time.’

       Peach laughed at Phil's proposed response, should Mr Buchanan turn out to be a snob.

       ‘No, he's not like that and don't mention jail, right?’ Neil had an air of panic in his voice as though the first thing we were going to ask Vaughan was where to slop out.

       I pulled up not far from the elegant pillared doorway. We all got out. Neil took the lead, walked over and rang the bell. The loud chimes were clearly audible from our side of the woodwork. We waited, and waited …

       There was no sign of life. Neil tried the doorbell again. He turned and looked at us embarrassed.

       Phil, not really helping matters and thinking Neil obviously wasn't embarrassed enough said, ‘That's one afternoon out of my life that’s been a complete fucking waste then.’

       I felt sorry for Neil. He was trying to help us. Phil had a good heart but he really could be an arsehole at times. I pointed to the door. ‘Give it one more try Neil. If there's no answer we'll go and have a cup of tea somewhere and come back in an hour.’

       Neil tried again. I could hear a noise directly above us; a window was being opened. A head leant out.

       ‘I'm not bloody deaf. If I were, then there would be absolutely no point in my having a bell, would there? Besides, you‘re over an hour early. I booked the cab for 4.30, not 2.45. Go away and please return at the appointed time if you don’t mind.’ The accent was unmistakeably ruling class.

       Neil spoke. ‘Sorry Vaughan, this isn‘t the cab you booked.’

       There was silence then, ‘Neil, Neil is that you down there?’

       ‘Yes Vaughan.’

       ‘What a marvellous surprise. Here, let yourself in, then come upstairs and help me down would you, there's a good chap.’

       Vaughan threw a set of keys from the window. Neil caught them and opened the front door. We went into the house.

       The main hallway was punctuated by elegant pieces of period furniture. I wondered if any of it was nicked. Although beautiful, it was also dusty. The house lacked a woman's touch. Neil climbed the gently curling staircase to where Vaughan was waiting on the first-floor landing. We could see immediately why he needed assistance. He was on crutches. Neil shook his hand; they were all smiles. Neil helped him down to the hallway.

       ‘Have you had a hip replacement?’ asked Neil.

       ‘Oh good god no. I was up on the roof trying to fix the television aerial and fell.’

       He was no spring chicken. I thought it a somewhat foolhardy act for a man of his years. Neil was on the same wavelength. ‘That's a stupid thing to be doing at your age Vaughan.’

       ‘Yes; indubitably. I would have employed one of those satellite installation fellows but the trouble is one can never trust tradesmen nowadays. They seem such a dishonest bunch, and one would hate to see the family silver go missing.’

       Family silver? Whose family silver was it? I looked at Phil who raised one of his eyebrows in a ‘He's having a laugh isn't he?’ sort of way. Vaughan caught Phil’s expression. He turned to Neil. ‘We are amongst friends, aren't we Neil?’

       ‘Yes Vaughan, absolutely. They’ve been my mates since childhood.’

       ‘Oh good, then allow me to introduce myself. Vaughan Buchanan at your service, Vaughan – to my friends.’

       He offered me an outstretched hand. I shook it. ‘I'm Will Rees. This is Philip Simms and Trevor Kozen, also known to his friends as
Peachy
.’

       ‘Peachy? How splendid, don't tell me the reason. I shall ascertain during your visit. I do so love a challenge.’ Peachy smiled, giving Vaughan a look of
You'll never get it in a million years!

       ‘Let's go through to the drawing room and have some tea, or perhaps something a little stronger should you prefer?’

       We followed him through. I nudged Neil. He got the point.

       ‘Vaughan, we'll come and sit in the kitchen. You don't want to be struggling with trays and stuff in your condition.’

       ‘Why that's very kind of you Neil. Once again, I'm in your debt.’

       We exited the drawing room and followed Vaughan at a hobbling pace to the large country kitchen. It reminded me of Tegan's, only it was quadruple the size. It had aromas and an aura that Tegan's would probably never acquire. No doubt a couple of centuries’ worth of fine cuisine and traditional recipes had been prepared on its scrubbed tables.

       At the far end of the kitchen, away from the main cooking area, hanging from one of the big beams that ran the width of the ceiling were a brace of pheasant and two brace of partridge. Vaughan was a man after my own heart. Copper pots and pans hung here, there and everywhere. Unlike the dusty hallway, this room obviously got plenty of attention. Either Vaughan was a gastronome and spent considerable time here, or he had help from someone.

       ‘Did you shoot those birds yourself Vaughan?’ I asked.

       ‘Unfortunately not. My current predicament precludes my taking part in such activity. Wet fields and plaster casts do not make good bedfellows.’

       I could see why Neil was enthusiastic about him. He had a commanding presence. I would have said more major general than physicist.

       ‘Neil, be a good chap and grab some glasses from that cabinet would you?’ Neil performed the request. ‘Do you see that keg over there?’ He lifted his right crutch and pointed at a little barrel sitting on top of a wooden table near the back door. ‘It contains cider produced from the very orchard you see through that window. Please partake of a glass or three.’

       ‘I won't if you don't mind Vaughan, I'm driving.’ I said.

       ‘Oh yes, how silly of me.’

       ‘We will though,’ Peachy chirped. He'd obviously developed a thirst going up and down the country lanes.

       ‘Would tea suffice for you Will?’

       ‘Yes, great. Thanks.’

       ‘Indian, Chinese or Earl Grey?’

       ‘Indian please, Vaughan.’

       ‘No problem at all.’ He switched the kettle on then hobbled to a nearby cupboard and produced a cup and saucer.

       By now, the three amigos were seriously into the cider. It looked quite cloudy to me. I hoped they weren't going to get the runs. Phil, the wine and beer expert, decided to voice his opinion. ‘It's very moreish Vaughan.’ The other two were nodding their heads.

       ‘I am delighted that it meets with your approval.’

       ‘Is it strong?'

       ‘Oh god yes. When the aims of cider production for this year's crop were decided, timidity did not make it to the list – I'm delighted to say.’

       The kettle had boiled. The arrival of my tea was imminent.

       ‘So to what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?’

       I looked at Peach; his expression said ‘say nothing’.

       ‘We were visiting Phil and decided to go for a drive. Neil said he had an old friend in the area he'd like to catch up with and so here we are.’

       ‘Oh, you're a local resident are you Philip?’

       ‘Well, not too far away.’

       ‘And where exactly is “not too far away”?’

       ‘Bristol.’

       ‘Ah, just down the road then!’

       Vaughan’s ‘just down the road –
my arse’
; response set alarm bells ringing. We would have to be careful here. Scientists had inquiring minds and could apply all manner of logic to find solutions. It was obvious Vaughan was sharp. How sharp, we were just about to find out. He raised his index finger as if he’d suddenly had an idea.

       ‘I've got it!’

       ‘Got what?’ Phil asked.

       ‘Why he's called Peachy.’ I could see that Peachy didn't think he had got it.

       ‘Why then?’ Peachy said smugly.

       ‘It is of course because you enjoy the company of very full-figured ladies.’

       Peachy had the smirk wiped off his face.

       ‘How do you come to that conclusion?’ Peachy wanted to know the exact thought process employed by Vaughan.

       Vaughan was cautious. ‘Perhaps we should come to some arrangement? I shall bestow upon you the knowledge and wisdom you seek, in return for which you will furnish me with the real reason for your impromptu visit?’

       The professor was waiting for an answer, and all eyes were on Peach. Would he divulge our real reason for being there? He wanted to hear Vaughan's explanation first.

       ‘After you, Mr Buchanan …’ Peach had obviously risen to Vaughan’s bait.

       ‘So be it. Mr Kozen, I have been observing you since your arrival. I have noticed that you are of a happy disposition. I also notice a slight cauliflowering of both ears. I note your frame and build are not that of a rugby player, nor do you have the calloused hands of a boxer. The glaring absence of any other facial injury leaves me to deduce you are not a participant of either aforementioned sport.

       ‘Assessing the body language you present towards your peers, including the hedonistic grin that you seem to perpetually have on display, one could say you are in a state of some perverse euphoria.

       ‘I can only conclude that the minor deformities suffered on your ears can be the by-product of one thing – in fact, two things to be strictly accurate – a pair of very large breasts!’

       Peach was shocked. Phil nearly choked on his cider while Neil laughed. I felt I had to offer an alternative explanation. ‘Couldn't the cauliflower ears be caused by very large buttocks?’

       ‘Oh absolutely not. The buttocks are muscular and as a consequence the flesh much more dense. His ears would be in a far worse predicament than they are. Now I think of it, he'd probably have broken spectacles as well.’

       We were all laughing at the imagery Vaughan had conjured up. Neil was right. Vaughan was an eccentric.

       As the laughter died down, Vaughan turned to Peach. ‘And the real reason you're here?’

       Peach looked at Neil as if to say ‘Can I
really
trust him?’. Although no words were spoken, Neil understood the question and nodded. Peach looked back at Vaughan, took a deep breath and then said, ‘How do you fancy giving us a crash-course in safecracking?’

 

 

 

Chapter 16

 

I was taken aback that he'd just come out with it like that, but I guess Peach had thought it through, and Neil wouldn't have introduced us to Vaughan if he didn't really believe and trust in him. I suppose if you share a prison cell with someone for any considerable length of time, you get to know them inside out.

       Momentarily, Vaughan's eyes lit up when Peach asked him the question. Now though, he seemed a little circumspect.

       ‘I don't know if that's a good idea.’

       Peachy wanted Vaughan to explain his doubts. ‘Why?’

       ‘Because I can see you are all decent chaps. I'm betting that apart from Neil's drink-driving contretemps, none of you have been in trouble with the law. I don't think I would feel totally happy encouraging you to embark on an enterprise that might result in your incarceration.’

       ‘We’re grown men,’ Peachy added.

       ‘Grown men can be naïve Trevor, and liberty is a precious thing. It only becomes apparent
how
precious when one is deprived of it.’

       Phil required more clarity. ‘Are you saying you won't help us?’

       ‘No. But not having the benefit of knowing exactly what it is you have in mind, I'm unable to advise you. There is more to cracking a safe than just drilling holes Philip. To begin with, one usually has to force one’s way into someone else’s domain. The risks have to be carefully weighed, and the planning needed for a successful sortie can be immense.

       ‘I am leaving to visit my sister in Kent in about an hour's time. I will be back in three weeks. If you are still keen to pursue whatever it is that you wish to attain after that period of time, we could meet and I will do my best to assist. I want you all to give the matter some careful consideration before you do something you might regret.’

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