by Stan Mason
‘No, I haven’t.’ The reply sounded very weak.
‘Then you’ve no idea what it’s like for someone to go through all your personal belongings. That’s what gets me with these people,’ he went on coldly. ‘They’re always on the lookout for something for nothing and it’s at the expense of other people.’
Frazier screwed up his face and shrugged his shoulders. ‘If only they sat back and took a long look at what they were doing and planned where they’ll be in five years time it could be a different story.’
‘Huh!’ retorted Marley with disdain. ‘They can’t even plan what they’re going to do tomorrow! They don’t realise that only very few gain anything out of theft or burglary. By the time they’re fifty-five, they’re on the slag heap with no pension and no hope for the future. Worst of all from out point of view is that the government will support them with benefits that we have to pay for in our taxes. It really gets under my skin!’
Frazier swung around in his swivel chair to face the other man. ‘Any idea what their next job might be?’
‘It’s like a cat sitting outside a mousehole,’ muttered Marley solemnly. ‘As soon as Wilson makes his next move we’ll nail him. I’ve got someone looking out to find the information. Have you found an address for him yet?’
‘No... not yet. It’s as though he sleeps on a park bench at night.’
At that moment, Trenchard entered the room excitedly. ‘Good news!’ he shouted almost at the top of his voice. ‘I’ve found an address for Fred Wilson!’
‘Where did you find that?’ demanded Marley suspiciously.
‘I’ve a grass who’s pretty reliable,’ came the answer. ‘He lives at twenty-two Acacia Avenue in Bromley. He rents a room there.’
Frazier stood up, put on his jacket and went to the door. ‘Well what are you waiting for?’ he said enthusiastically as the other two men stared at him. ‘Let’s go and have a word with him. We might learn a thing or two and maybe even make an arrest.’
‘Too right!’ cut in Trenchard swiftly. ‘I want to know straight from the horse’s mouth how he managed to rob a bank and only came away with just over two hundred quid. It’s the joke of the century. I wonder what Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid would have said to that.’
‘Are you sure you’ve got the right address, Trenchard?’ enquired Marley with a serious expression on his face. ‘Only you’ve made quite a few blunders over the past few years.’
‘I’m telling you this is kosher.’ He paused for a moment. ‘What blunders are you talking about, Mr. Marley?’
‘You and your damned hunches,’ rattled the senior police officer sharply. ‘There was the Pilkington case where your grass told you that the criminal was on a train to Rochester. It turned out that he was at Heathrow airport waiting for a plane to fly to Bermuda. Then there was the Jackson case where you were certain that he’d killed his wife but he proved that he was in Australia at the time with a cast-iron alibi. Your grass’s record’s been pretty tarnished.’
Trenchard ignored the comments and ploughed on regardless. ‘I’m right this time. I know it. And I’ll tell you another thing., I have a hunch they’ll rob the same bank again.’
‘What makes you think of something like that?’ enquired Marley totally surprised by the prediction. ‘Surely they wouldn’t be that idiotic!’
‘Why not,’ returned his junior. ‘They know the bank now. Just because they didn’t score money-wise last time, they’ll want to make certain next time. I’m studying how to get into the criminal mind working out how it thinks.’
The senior police office snorted in contempt. His view of the junior man was hardly one of appreciation and respect.
However Frazier halted in his tracks thinking the matter through. ‘He’s right you know. They’re dumb enough to do a stupid thing like that.’
‘The same bank!’ spat Marley in disbelief. ’To pick up another two hundred quid! I mean they’re stupid but surely they’re not that stupid!’
‘I told you, I’m trying to get into the mind of an amateur bank robber,’ repeated Trenchard in all seriousness. ‘And I feel that’s the limit of their intentions... the same bank.’
The senior police officer shook his head slowly and his face showed even more contempt. ‘You and your mind-reading!’ he snarled angrily. ’It’ll be tarot cards next and then a crystal ball. Come on... let’s go!’
The three men left the building to go to Acacia Avenue in Bromley to visit Fred Wilson and check whether he was still residing there. To Marley it was a wild goose chase. It was his belief that his quarry had once again fallen behind with his rent and had done a runner. It was always the case with petty criminals who were unmarried and free to go wherever they liked. They never learned from the error of their ways and were forced to keep on the move and continue a life of crime to end up finally in desperation.
***
Since the beginning of time immemorial, when homo sapiens began to inherit the Earth, mankind became absorbed in the element of thought. The minds of human-beings began to operate in the same way as computers in modern times, analysing situations and events as well as building up information as they started to learn of incidents that mattered so much in life. To the present day, every person has filled their minds with such details and they have progressed even further in the subject of thought. Ultimately they have developed the intrinsic insular ideals relating to sin, blame, guilt, introversion, self-pity, boredom and culpability, but most important of all is that they have acquired the gift of memory. However there is always a problem with regard to remembering incidents that happened in the past and often a greater difficulty to forget them as well as events that were either very much disliked or which caused hurt to the individual. Such thoughts remained as scars in the sub-conscious remaining there for an indefinite period.
Waverley was currently burdened with that affliction. The evil act committed against him by his wife raged constantly through his head. He was the victim of her infidelity and he was unable to forget what she had done to him. As Shakespeare wrote so sagely: “The evil that men do lives after them. The good is oft interred in their bones!” It was true. The banker remembered nothing of the good times that he had shared with his wife and could recall only the evil that she did to ruin his life. Worst of all, because he couldn’t inflict revenge on her for her misdeeds, he was unable to settle his mind and shrug the trouble off his shoulders.
As far as Paula was concerned, the holiday had been extremely enjoyable. She felt that she had made his troubles seem far less, although the element of angst was still evident within him, but she knew that he was delighted that neither of them mentioned anything more about banking, or plans to rob a bank, or anything bout relationships for the rest of the week, both regarding the subjects as taboo after their confrontation on the promenade on the first day of their vacation. They simply ate, drank, and basked idly on the beach or around the pool in the hotel enjoying n the glorious sunshine. Waverley welcomed the fact that she had dropped the plan regarding it as a totally crazy idea. He laughed inwardly at the thought of cutting up newspapers into shapes the size of banknotes and placing them in the bank’s plastic wrappers. It was too incredible to think that he would ever do such a thing! Why should he contemplate such a ridiculous idea? He had a prestigious appointment at the bank as an Assistant Manager in a large branch in the centre of London, a sound salary was paid to him every single month, and he had a solid pension to rely on when he retired, even though he would have to wait for it to come to fruition for another thirty-three years. There was no reason for him to play fast-and-loose by blotting his copybook with a stupid idea such as robbing his employer. There was also far more to it than those considerations with regard to the risk. A robbery of any kind, however safe it was made out to be, brought the danger of getting caught in the act, arrested and imprisoned for such a nefarious activity which was very likel
y Therefore the proposition fell far short of any hope in the light of reality.
It was on the last day of the holiday when he bought a morning newspaper to read at his leisure. He tucked it under his arm and walked with Paula down to the beach. They acquired a couple of sun-loungers and lay back to enjoy the hot sunshine. After a short while, Waverley opened the newspaper to receive a shock that passed through him as though he had been electrocuted. The news was so distressing to him that he blinked twice and read the headlines a second time gain to make certain that he wasn’t dreaming. It read as the main story in large bold letters: “Prescot Bank makes 20,000 redundant”. It was so unexpected that the blood drained from his face which turned white. Twenty thousand staff to be made redundant! It as too incredible to comprehend. Although the bank employed over a hundred-and-fifty thousand people it was a large number to make redundant. He read the rest of the story to learn that technology had taken off with regard to banking activity and there was less need for staff in the branches as computers were taking over the normal routines. For example, it went on, Automatic Telling Machines, ATM’s. were available for people wishing to withdraw cash, or make changes to their accounts, or even have a printout of their transactions for twenty-hour hours of the day. It was no longer necessary to enter a bank and withdraw money by cheque during the times when the bank opened and closed.
‘What’s wrong?’ asked Paula, noticing that he suddenly looked quite ill.
‘Look at this!’ he ordered, passing the newspaper to her. ‘Twenty thousand people to be dumped by the bank. My bank! And it’s all going on the retail side... my side!’
‘There goes any future promotion,’ she told him point-blank. ‘They mention twenty thousand but, you know as I do, that they’ll get rid of more staff as time goes on just to keep the main truth from the banking union. That’s obvious. It was really on the cards. I knew it... everyone knew it. Technology has made it possible the bank to be run efficiently with far less people. There are ATMs, plastic debit and credit cards, those with pin numbers and who knows what else is on the horizon in the technological field in the future. There’s less need for human-beings to handle business.’
He screwed up his face in ostensible agony. ‘Tell me about it!’ he muttered almost silently.
‘Well nothing’s certain in life,’ she told him philosophically. ‘We all live on a knife edge whatever we do or however we live.’
Suddenly robbing the bank to secure his future didn’t seem such a crazy idea any more. However he calmed down after a while and disregarded the thought allowing himself to enjoy the last day of his holiday with his new-found companion.
When they arrived back in England, they went to the airport exit and stared at each other seriously.
‘That was a brilliant holiday,’ she told him. ‘I enjoyed every minute of it. How about you?’
‘I have to say it was very interesting,’ he said unenthusiastically.
‘There’s no need to be euphemistic,’ she went on. ‘It was fantastic! I want to thank you for your companionship. You were a brick!’
He conceded as he stared into her face. ‘Yes,’ he admitted. ‘It was good... very good and it straightened me out to some extent.’
‘We must do it again sometime‘ she said almost in a whisper,’
He shrugged his shoulders. ‘Are you going straight home?’
‘My sister’s waiting for me here in her car. I have a lot to tell her.’
‘See you again then,’ he ventured hardly wishing to see her leave. He had learned a lot about the woman and her personality, dispensing with the idea that she was out of her mind or insane. Although they had lived in separate rooms, he was surprised to discover that he felt much closer to her than he had imagined.
‘Next Wednesday at rehearsals?‘ she questioned hopefully.
‘Of course,’ he responded. All ideas of terminating his membership with The Carlton Theatre Group suddenly flew out of the window.
‘Pick you up at seven o’clock. We don’t want to be late,’ she concluded.
To his surprise, she moved closer to him and kissed him gently on the lips. He stood still and rigid without responding, then she moved away, picked up her suitcase and walked out to meet her sister. Waverley watched her go and then thought about his empty house which would remind him of his wife so he changed his mind and instead of going home he took a taxi to a nearby inn. There he settled down with a large whisky in front of him thinking about the events which had occurred on the holiday.
‘That was some relaxing vacation,’ he muttered to himself, avoiding the gaze of a nearby drinker who overheard him. He reflected on the incidents over the past week as well as the conversation with Paula on the promenade on the very first day. It all came back to him as a flashback.
‘I’ve devised a method by which you can undertake a robbery at your bank and get away with it,’ she had told him. ‘Even better because it’s without risk of danger or of being discovered.’
‘And why the hell should I do something like that?’ he had enquired sullenly, dismissing the idea from the start as being frivolous and ridiculous. ‘I have a secure job with a very large bank. I’ve got a good salary and a pension. If you’ve brought me all the way to Spain simply to spin a yarn like that, you’re out of your mind.’ He had paused for a fraction before continuing. ‘Are there any members of your family in a sanatorium or who are currently seeing a psychiatrist?’
‘I’m not mad as you’ll find out when I tell you the full plan. You’ve got the perfect opportunity to carry it off. Each time you go down to the safe in your bank, you can take your briefcase. No one will notice. When you take the money from the safe to place it in the trolley, you put some of it in your briefcase. And you’ll keep doing it until you’ve got enough to retire.’
‘Enough to retire!’ he had gasped, astounded that she should devise such a plan and expect him to carry it through. ‘Brilliant, Paula! What happens when the safe runs out of money? Don’t you think someone will notice that small thing?’
‘You haven’t let me finish!’ she had complained. ‘Each time you go down to the safe, you’ll have replacements in your briefcase.’
He had stared at her with a puzzled expression on his face. ‘What sort of replacements? I’m sure they’d notice if I replaced the money with poker chips.’
She had knocked his arm gently in anger. ‘Don’t be facetious! I’m being serious. Now listen! We cut newspapers into the same size as the money, put them in the bank’s plastic wrappers, and when you go down to the safe you put them at the bottom of the pile. At the end of each day, you’ll leave your branch with an executive briefcase filled with real money.’
‘Ah!’ he had told her in a knowing fashion. ‘Now it’s ‘we’... you and me together in this great conspiracy with me taking all the risk. Tell me, what happens eventually when there’s only a pile of newspaper cuttings and no money left in the safe? What am I supposed to bring up on the trolley?’
‘I’ve already thought that one out,’ she told him bluntly. ‘But I’ll tell you all about it when you agree to go through with the plan.’
He had shaken his head slowly in disagreement. ‘That’s never going to happen. You realise that what you’re saying is preposterous. I’d never get away with it.’
‘I strongly disagree,’ she had countered curtly. ‘You told me that the bank inspectors come every three months and that they’ve only just carried out an inspection. They’re unlikely to do so for at least two more months. That gives us plenty of time.’
‘I see. Now it’s ‘us’ again.’
‘The plan is foolproof I tell you,’ she had gone on decisively.
‘Yes... and I’m the fool. How can I entertain such a stupid idea if you can’t tell me the exit factor.?
‘Okay,’ she had revealed uncertainly, ‘The final part of
the plan has something to do with your acting ability.’
‘My acting ability!What has that got to do with the bank?’
His distraction came to an end as the man at the next table came forward with a plate of chips. He leaned over towards Waverley,
‘Mind passing the salt?’ requested the man bluntly causing the flashback to finish.
Waverley ignored him, standing up to leave the inn without finishing his drink. He recalled the newspaper item which stated that his bank was making twenty thousand people redundant and suddenly Paula’s words began to make sense. However, before he could think things through cogently in his own time, he had to return to the house which he had shared with his wife. It was an unpleasant thought and, for a few moments, he considered renting a room in a hotel for a week or so, but he swiftly recognised that he was only putting the discomfort aside for that period of time. It was necessary for him to frame up to his demons and resist them. It was essential that he faced them! Memory could be a good or bad concept in the life of an individual but forgetting often took a little longer.
***
The police car carrying Marley, Frazier and Trenchard sped through the streets of Charnley Wood to the identified destination of Fred Wilson in Acacia Avenue. At first, Frazier, who was driving, turned on the police siren but Marley quickly turned it off to avoid anyone becoming aware that the police were in the district on a mission. He recognised that if Fred Wilson heard the siren, he would have made tracks to ensure his escape and that would have defeated the object of the exercise. The vehicle raced through the town at high speed until it reached a large block of flats in the heart of a slum area. The street below was strewn with rubbish including full black plastic bags, old newspapers which had been blown there in the wind, a well-worn mattress, an old rusted bicycle and the remains of an old stained blanket that had been soaked in the rain and in the course of time had rotted. The stench was most undesirable, seemingly permeating the air with an element of curry odour which was extremely strong. The area was very impoverished... a place which the police avoided except when a crime was reported. Such incidents were quite rare for the residents preferred to deal with any petty crimes committed there by themselves in the form of vigilante groups. With just a few exceptions, no one ever reported anything to the police because they mistrusted them so much. It was an area where most people were unemployed or refused to become employed and they lived on government benefits, spending each day whiling away their time idly.
