The Camberwell Raid (24 page)

‘No, I don’t mean streets or roads,’ said Cassie, ‘I mean some sort of hiding-place, like a – well, like a barn, say.’

‘A barn?’ said Freddy. ‘A barn? Don’t go off your chump, Cassie. A barn somewhere around Denmark Hill or Herne Hill? You only find barns on farms.’

‘Excuse me, Freddy Brown,’ said Cassie, ‘but kindly don’t address me as if I’m an ignorant young lady, or I’ll bite your lump. I meant something like a barn, and I said so.’

‘Oh, beg yer pardon, Cassie, so you did,’ said Freddy. ‘Good point. In fact, I think you might’ve put a clever finger on that vanishin’ trick. Cassie, you’re not always just a pretty face.’

‘I know that,’ said Cassie.

‘Mind you, I always notice your looks first,’ said Freddy. ‘I mean, who wouldn’t? Your intellect catches up later.’

‘Oh, you dear, what a nice compliment’ry word,’ said Cassie, and kissed him lovingly.

Freddy came out of that in search of air.

‘Don’t get me legless, Cassie, not just now,’ he said. ‘Only you’ve set me thinkin’ that some of the bigger and older houses around the area might still ’ave stables. Or, wait a bit, suppose a house had one of those new car garages and it ’ad been left open, suppose the owners were out?’

‘But, Freddy, wouldn’t someone have seen the van if it went in?’ asked Cassie.

‘Well, the police never came across anyone who did,’ said Freddy. ‘There’s a lot of big houses on Denmark Hill that were built years ago, but I don’t know I noticed which of them had had garages built. I think I’ll take a bike ride.’

‘What, now?’ said Cassie.

‘You’re a clever girl, you are, Cassie, you’ve hit on a way the van could’ve disappeared, because they’d ’ave closed the doors as soon as it was in. We lost the chance of bein’ right behind them up Denmark Hill when the police car mounted the pavement and skidded round in John Ruskin Street.’ Freddy went on to explain why he’d got the incident on his mind, that he was dead against crooked geezers robbing banks, that if he’d paid the cheques in earlier, for instance, they’d have got away with his and Cassie’s hundred quid on top of other people’s savings, including Sammy’s. He was also dead against any crook using a gun. Innocent people could end up dead, he said. In addition, he was still bloody vexed about being clobbered. Cassie told him again to mind his language. Freddy pointed out that being bashed by a revolver could have injured his loaf of bread so badly that he’d have missed getting married to her, which would have made any bloke use language. So he had a thing about seeing those crooks nicked, because it would have upset her if the wedding had been injured as well, and he didn’t like her being upset. He reckoned that if the crooks had gone into hiding they wouldn’t be showing themselves yet, not while the police still had a big search going on. ‘So you see, Cassie, I think I will take a bike ride and look
around
some of the bigger houses on Denmark Hill and Herne Hill.’

‘Not without me you won’t,’ said Cassie. ‘Suppose you get knocked on the head again? It really could stop you gettin’ married to me.’

‘I don’t think—’

‘You’re not goin’ without me, d’you hear, Freddy Brown?’

‘Now look, Cassie—’

‘I don’t mind you bein’ a hero once,’ said Cassie, ‘but twice is once too much.’

‘All right,’ said Freddy, ‘you can borrow Sally’s bike and ride with me.’

‘Yes, I’ll do that,’ said Cassie, ‘because you’re not goin’ without me.’

‘We’ll just tell Mum and Dad we’re goin’ for our last bike ride as an unmarried couple,’ said Freddy. Cassie made a face. ‘What’s up?’ he asked.

‘I didn’t like you saying our last bike ride.’

‘Only as single people,’ said Freddy.

‘I still didn’t like it,’ said Cassie.

Freddy put a hand under her chin and kissed her.

‘If there’s one thing you can be sure of, Cassie,’ he said, ‘it’s that we’re not goin’ to lose each other. I’ll see to that You’ve sent me off me chump at times, and I can’t say you ’aven’t, but girls like you don’t come ten a penny, Cassie.’

‘Freddy, you do say quite nice things sometimes,’ said Cassie.

‘There’s no charge,’ said Freddy, headache getting better.

For the time being, Carstairs was in sole charge of the family, and the revolver had become an ever-present
menace
. To add further to Vi’s intense worries and Tommy’s agonizing, Alice wasn’t with them. For some reason, the other ratface was exploring the house and had taken Alice with him. As insurance, Tommy suspected, against a successful attempt to turn the tables on his partner. Tommy, rage close to the surface, might have considered taking on the challenge, for compared to himself, the slim sod with the gun was a runt. To create an opportunity would only need a distraction. That this blank-faced crook could keep that revolver in sight in the presence of children was sheer evil-mindedness, and Tommy would have taken great pleasure in laying the bloke out cold. Unfortunately, there were too many ifs and buts, including the possibility that the gun might go off in front of Vi, Paul and David.

David was stiff-bodied because of the absence of his sister. Paul was sitting on Vi’s lap, cuddling close. Tommy kept meeting Vi’s eyes. Hers looked cloudy. His tried to be reassuring.

The large handsome house seemed unnaturally quiet, as if ugly silence was smothering it.

Carstairs was in a cold temper because of the disrupted plan, the plan that should have put them aboard a cross-Channel ferry by now. Miller had been silently swearing under his breath ever since they realized that somehow the police had got on their tail.

He returned at last from his exploration of the house, bringing Alice into the room with him. Alice was pale, her mouth quivering. But she refused to cry. The man had said nothing to her during his tour of the family home, but had kept his hand on her shoulder throughout. On his way round the place, he found a large ball of strong cord in a cupboard.
He
picked it up and when they came down the stairs eventually, he placed it on the hallstand. Now he gave her a little push that sent her on her way back to the settee, where she sat down next to her father. Tommy put an arm around her.

‘That’s my treasure,’ he said.

Carstairs glanced at Miller, and Miller nodded to indicate he had found a room suitable for incarcerating the family. Carstairs returned the nod. Miller picked up the bottle of whisky and his empty glass from the table. Carstairs glared at him and mouthed an imprecation.

‘Okay, later,’ said Miller, and put the glass and bottle back on the table. ‘Right,’ he said to Tommy, ‘we’re all going upstairs. On your feet, you and your wife and kids.’

‘If you don’t mind,’ said Tommy, ‘we’ll stay here. You’ve got the car keys, the car’s in the drive, and you can both shove off as quietly as you like. We obviously can’t stop you.’

‘Are you simple?’ said Miller. ‘Or d’you think we are?’

‘I don’t know what I think,’ said Tommy. ‘In fact, I don’t still know if I can think at all. It’s the circumstances, if you take my meanin’. They’re new to us. How’d you get here, by the way, and what made you pick this house for whatever it is you’re up to?’ He knew from what he had heard on the wireless that they’d been using a baker’s van, but he couldn’t recall seeing it in the drive when he arrived home.

‘Dad, there’s a van outside the French windows,’ blurted David.

Carstairs showed a spasm of irritation, and Miller said, ‘Kid, why don’t you shut up?’

Jesus, thought Tommy, so that’s what they did, drove the van round to the back of the house, where it couldn’t be seen from the road.

‘What’s my son mean, a van?’ he asked. ‘Is it yours? If it is, what d’you want my car for?’

‘You’re a dab hand at trying to start up conversations,’ said Miller. ‘Cut it out, and forget about informing on us as soon as we leave. I told you to get on your feet, all of you, so move. Any tricks, and we’ll do what we said, take the girl with us.’ Tommy and his family rose. ‘That’s better,’ said Miller, ‘and it didn’t hurt, did it?’

‘Everything hurts,’ said Vi, Paul beside her and his hand in hers.

‘Well, bloody hard luck,’ said Miller, and opened the door. ‘This way, single file, and follow me.’ He led them out of the room and along to the staircase. Carstairs, falling in behind them, noticed the large ball of cord on the hallstand and picked it up.

What the hell are they up to, thought Tommy, why the hell can’t they just push off and stop frightening my kids? God knows what it’s doing to Vi. Why the hell are they torturing her? But he knew he needn’t have asked himself those kind of questions, because every answer was all too obvious. They intended to make sure, once they did leave, that neither he nor any of his family could inform on them. Not for a while, at least. So he guessed they were going to lock him and Vi and the children in one of the bedrooms. One of the back bedrooms on the second floor, probably. It would be too high for anyone to think of opening the window and climbing down, and too far from the road for any shout for help to be heard. Sod it, thought Tommy, we may have
to
wait all night for our daily help to arrive in the morning. Fortunately, she’d got her own key. They’d be able to arouse her attention.

‘Come on, come on,’ growled Miller from the first floor landing.

Why was it, thought Vi, that that one alone did the talking? The other hadn’t said a word as far as she knew. She thought about that, and turned her head as she and Paul began to ascend the second flight of stairs. She met Tommy’s eyes.

‘Good on yer, Vi, we’re all here,’ he said quietly.

The phone rang then.

The unexpected sound brought everyone to a dead stop. Miller called down to Tommy.

‘Answer it, but don’t start a long conversation, and mind what you say.’

Tommy went down to the hall, Carstairs following him. He picked up the phone and steeled himself.

‘Hello.’

‘Boots here, Tommy.’

‘How’d you do,’ said Tommy, and something hard dug into his back, something that told him to cut out the wet stuff.

‘Listen,’ said Boots, ‘I’m driving Emily, Chinese Lady and our stepdad to the weddings. Our stepdad’s car is out of action with front axle trouble. You’re driving Vi, of course. Could you take Rosie and Eloise as well?’

‘Pleasure,’ said Tommy, ‘I’ll pick them up.’

‘Thanks,’ said Boots. ‘Love to Vi and the kids.’

‘You’re comin’ over now?’ said Tommy.

‘I’m doing what?’ said Boots.

‘It’s a bit inconvenient,’ said Tommy.

The gun jammed into his back.

‘I’m not with you,’ said Boots.

‘No, sorry, I’m not thinking straight,’ said Tommy. ‘See you some other time, Boots.’ A hand wrenched the receiver from him and replaced it. Miller came down the stairs, leaving Vi and her children on the landing. He rushed at Tommy.

‘Who’s coming over, you bugger?’ he asked.

‘That was my elder brother,’ said Tommy. ‘I put ’im off by telling him it was too inconvenient.’

‘Did it put him off?’ said Miller. ‘How do we know it did? Well, if he does arrive, he’ll wish he’d stayed at home, and you’ll wish you’d made him. Get back to your family.’

Vi gave his hand a squeeze when he rejoined them. She knew, as he knew, that what he had said over the phone would set Boots thinking. Boots had done a fair amount of thinking for the Adams families in his time. Vi felt she wouldn’t be surprised if he rang back in a little while.

Under compulsion, the family went all the way up to the top floor, and the next move fitted everything else that had happened. They were forced into the attic, which had no windows, only a skylight.

The phone rang again.

‘Bloody hell,’ hissed Miller, and grabbed Tommy’s arm. ‘Get down there and answer it, you bleeder.’

Tommy experienced a lunatic desire to smash the man’s face in, but down he went, Miller following. Carstairs pulled the attic door shut and locked it. The key had been hanging from a hook just inside the door.

In the hall, Tommy answered the phone, with Miller at his elbow.

‘Hello?’

‘Tommy,’ said Boots from the other end of the line,
‘why
did you say I was coming over this evening and then tell me it was too inconvenient?’

‘I wasn’t thinking straight,’ said Tommy.

‘Why?’ asked Boots.

‘Anyway, don’t come over this evening,’ said Tommy. ‘Can’t stop to talk now, we’ve got visitors. So long, Boots.’ He replaced the phone.

‘Your brother again?’ said Miller.

‘Yes,’ said Tommy.

‘So he’s not coming over?’

‘Not now I’ve definitely put ’im off,’ said Tommy.

‘Just as well, for him and for you,’ said Miller. ‘Listen, what’s a half-baked cockney like you doing in a house like this?’

‘It’s a long story,’ said Tommy.

‘You’re a pain in my backside, d’you know that?’ said Miller.

‘I could say a few things about you,’ said Tommy.

‘Don’t,’ said Miller, ‘I’m sensitive. Get back upstairs, or are you thinking of taking me on?’

‘I’m not a bleedin’ idiot,’ said Tommy, ‘I’m not takin’ either of you on while you’ve got my wife and kids under lock and key.’

‘That’s the first time you’ve talked sense,’ said Miller, and Tommy made his ascent of the handsome mahogany staircase. Miller followed, thinking here was a middle-class cockney, for Christ’s sake. Bloody disgusting. How had the ponce managed it? By being lucky, you bet. But he was no idiot, and the bugger probably knew that he and Carstairs were in disguise even if the prissy woman didn’t. Not that it mattered. None of them would get to see himself or Carstairs as they normally were.

A sour smile touched Miller’s lips.

LILIAN ANSWERED THE
door to her visitor.

‘Good evening, Mrs Hyams,’ said milkman Bill Chambers, looking a stalwart in a double-breasted chalk-striped grey suit and a trilby hat. ‘Consequent on the note I left, I’m here by arrangement.’

‘Not my arrangement,’ said Lilian, looking a lush armful in a cosy cream machine-knitted jumper and a pleated chocolate-brown skirt.

‘Still, I’ll come in if you’ll let me get my feet over your doorstep,’ said Bill. ‘Might I mention you dress well, Lilian?’