by Stan Mason
‘What’s your name?’ he began as he and Frazier sat at a table facing the robber.
‘Gregory Peck!’ stated Hunter, knowing that it was the name of a famous American film actor.
‘I mean your real name,’ insisted Marley abruptly, intending to give the criminal a tough time.
‘I just told you,’ declared Hunter boldly. ‘Gregory Peck!’ Are you deaf or something?’
Marley’s face failed to hide his irritation at the jibe. He had no intention of allowing the man to make a fool of him. ‘We’re going to play games, are we?’ he returned sharply. ‘Well all I can tell you is that you’ll come out second best. Who are the other members of your gang?’
‘I work alone,’ came the reply.
‘Come on!’ uttered Frazier entering the fray. ‘Customers stated that there were four men robbing the bank. What are their names?’
‘I don’t know the names of any of the bank customers,’ declared Hunter cheekily.
Frazier banged his hand lightly on the table with frustration. ‘I’m not talking about the customers!’ he spat. ‘I want the names of the other men in your gang! What are they?’
The arrested man looked at him directly with a solemn face. ‘Oh them!’ he returned easily. ‘I see what you mean., They’re James Stewart, Burt Lancaster, Humphrey Bogart and me, Gregory Peck.’
Frazer stared at him angrily. ‘You do realise the position you’re in,’ he warned the criminal.
‘I usually play outside left at football. That’s my position,’ returned Hunter without raising an eyebrow at the two irate policemen facing him.
Marley realised that some translation was being lost because the man had to read lips to understand the questions. ‘Those are the names of famous film actors,; he related trying to hold his temper.
‘I know,’ came the reply. ‘They were very good, weren’t they?’
‘We know Fred Wilson’s the leader of the gang’ charged Marley sharply. Will you confirm that?’ He stared at the other man and considered that he may not have read his lips correctly. ‘Was Fred Wilson the leader of the gang?’ he repeated slowly.
‘Fred Wilson,’ repeated the captive. ‘I had a neighbour called that once.’
‘Where does he live?’ demanded Frazier curtly believing that he might have gained some ground.
‘I don’t know where he lives now. You see I moved away from there a few years back.’
Frazier turned to Marley angrily. ‘‘This is pointless,’ he stated. ‘He’s just jerking us around! He needs a good going over.’
‘Which, unfortunately, we’re not allowed to do, more’s the pity,’ exclaimed the senior police officer with an element of disappointment in his voice. ‘It would be so much easier if we could.’
‘We can throw him in a cell and let him stew for a while.,‘ suggested Frazier. ‘It could make a difference if he realised that we were serious. We can see how he pans out in the morning when he realises that we mean business. James Stewart, Burt Lancaster, Humphrey Bogart and Gregory Peck. Who the hell does he think we are?’
‘Good idea!’ concurred Marley readily. ‘Let’s let him stew!’
He turned to the policeman guarding the door and nodded to him. Within a minute, Hunter was handcuffed and marched out of the interview room on his way to a cell at the police station. He was determined to stick it out and say nothing but he knew that there might come a time when he would crack under pressure. However if he managed to hold out for a while, it would give Wilson and the gang time to get away.
Early on the following morning, Hunter was brought from the cell to the interview room. He sat directly opposite Frazier while Marley sat there with his head in his hands, as though he had a violent headache, leaving his deputy to carry out the interview.
How about some breakfast?’ asked Hunter pitifully.
‘Breakfast will be served after you’ve answered all our questions satisfactorily,’ responded Frazier. He pressed the recording button on the tape-recorder. ‘Interview with Will Hunter at seven forty-five. Marley and Frazier present.’ He looked directly at the bank robber. ‘Okay... what’s your name... your real name?’
‘I told you. It‘s Gregory Peck!’ came the reply.
‘Why do you insist on lying!’ spat the junior police officer. ‘You know it isn‘t true! And it doesn’t help your case that you’re trying to make fools of us!’
‘Haven’t you seen any of the films I made,’ continued the bank robber. ’There was Spellbound with Hitchcock, Gentleman’s Agreement, Captain Horatio Hornblower, Moby Dick, The Boys From Brazil and lots more.’
Frazier looked at him tiredly deciding to change the subject. ‘All right, let’s move on! Where do you live?’
‘One-o-Five North Naomi, South; Burbank, California. Don’t ask me for the zip code. I never remember zip codes.
‘If that’s the case.,’ continued Frazier in desperation. ‘what are you doing in London?’ He was beginning to feel foolish for entering the bank robber’s fantasy world.
‘And where are you staying in London?’ cut in Marley, sitting up and looking directly at the man.
‘At the Dorchester Hotel.
‘Do you know how much it costs to stay at the Dorchester Hotel?’ enquired Frazier angrily.
‘I’ve got a million pound note. Didn’t you see the film about it? The Million Pound Note. I put it under the carpet and forgot all about it but when my creditors arrived, ready to lynch me, it was found and got me out of trouble. You see no one could change a million pound note. It was too big.’
‘Stop frigging us around, man. You’re in deep trouble. You were caught red-handed robbing a bank’ challenged Marley irately. ‘Do yourself a favour. Tell us the name of the gang leader.’
‘James Stewart,’ came the answer.
Frazier stood up and turned around with frustration. ‘I’m getting very tired of this,’ he spat angrily.
‘You can call me by my first name if you like,’ said Hunter easily.
‘What’s that?’ asked Marley, hoping to catch out the bandit in the interrogation.
‘Gregory!’ replied the bank robber, tongue in cheek.
Frazier began to lose his temper and leaned belligerently towards Hunter as if to strike him, however Marley took him by the arm quickly to stop him from doing so.
‘Take it easy,’ he warned his colleague sagely. ‘Don’t let him get under your skin. We’ll get the truth out of him in time.’
Frazier glared at the bank robber fiercely and jutted out his jaw as his temper subsided. ‘I know what I’d like to call him,’ he told the senior police officer curtly. He turned to Hunter again with an evil expression on his face. ‘You realise that if you don’t co-operate, you’ll go to prison for a very long time.’
‘I can’t do that,’ returned the bank robber. ‘I’ve just signed a contract for a new film.’
‘Does the name Wilson... Fred Wilson... ring a bell?’ asked Marley.
‘How does a name ring a bell?’ came the response.
Frazier stared at him menacingly in the hope of getting proper answers. ‘You’ll spend the rest of your life in prison if you refuse to co-operate. That much I promise you!’
‘The Director might want to take the film on location,’ continued Hunter as though butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth.
At that moment, Trenchard entered the room holding a photograph of the four men leaving the bank after the attempted robbery. Marley took it, glanced at it, and then placed it in front of Hunter.
‘Do you recognise any of these men?’ he pressed urgently.
The bank robber’s face lit up. ‘Yes,’ he said slowly. ‘James Stewart, Burt Lancaster and Humphrey Bogart. I know them well. We often meet at parties in Hollywood you know.’
‘I’ve had enough
of this,’ declared Frazier. ‘Charge him Trenchard! Read him his rights and then lock him in a cell!’
Trenchrd moved forward, took the bank robber‘s arm and lifted him from his seat. ‘Come on, Gregory Peck. I can assure you of one thing. This film is going to end in tragedy for you if you stick to the same story. You’d better believe it!’
He went to the door watched closely by the two senior police officers, turning in case Hunter changed his mind, but the bank robber was clearly reluctant to divulge any information and he led him out of the room. Hunter was going to stick to his guns and remain silent with the exception of nonsensical replies to the questions. He would rather go to jail than offer any information which might result in his companions being discovered or arrested. It was definitely a case of honour amongst thieves.
***
Most surpassingly, Destiny tends to overwhelm our lives beyond redemption especially when an individual concludes that a direct course of action has been decided upon with the full intention of carrying it out. It has its own way to challenge such matters and, by its own methods, tends to turn the situation on its head. It is reminiscent of King Canute’s desire to go to the edge of the sea and hold back the tide which he obviously failed to do. Wishful thinking, however strong it might be, has no place where Destiny is concerned. For reasons unknown to mankind, this paranormal spirit has its own agenda which cannot be opposed or counteracted in any way. It was apparently so in Waverley’s case, even though he had been set on refusing to participate in Paula’s excellent plan. Ultimately, he placed it to the back of his mind where it could be quickly forgotten. However that was not the way it was going to be for when he returned to his desk later that day, he found a message laying there which identified that a large number of bank staff would shortly be made redundant. There was a remitting factor to the operation whereby staff who wished to take voluntary retirement were permitted to make an application to do so. The carrot was that anyone who applied for this would be compensated satisfactorily. It started to become patently clear to Waverley that, as a result of this message on his desk, his job might be one of those on the line. The reason for him to think that way was because he worked for a major branch of the bank which employed a large number of people. Most certainly some of them would be selected, for the reasons outlined, to end their banking careers. For a while, he sat back in his executive chair assessing the situation carefully. He was forced to concede that Paula may have been right. He might have to apply for employment outside the bank to become a clerk in an investment company or a shelf-stacker in a supermarket... neither of which was desirable to him. It caused him to think about her plan in greater detail. If he purloined a large sum of money from the bank’s safe over a period of five or six days, the operation would be over in a flash even though it would seem a lifetime during that period. Although he had decided to reject her proposal to take part in her plan, his mind began to spin in the other direction. Destiny was about to achieve it’s own desire and change his life for ever, one way or the other.
That evening, when Paula arrived at his house to take him to rehearsal, he made no move to leave with her. Instead he invited her inside the house and led her into the lounge.
‘We have a lot to discuss,’ he began, pointing to the settee for her to sit down. ‘I think we’ll need to give rehearsal a miss tonight.’
She looked at him in surprise recognising that something had changed his mind in her favour. ‘The Director will go mad if we don’t show,’ she told him point-blank.
‘To hell with the Director,’ he riposted sharply. ‘We have other fish to fry.’ There was a long pause as he went to the cocktail cabinet and poured them both a drink. ‘I’ve been thinking hard about the plan to rob the bank,’ he went on, handing her a glass of wine. ‘Today I did a dummy run in the bank as though I was carrying out the operation. I have to admit that it seemed to work very easily.’
‘I’m glad to hear it,’ she commented, delighted that he taken the first step, before taking a sip of wine from her glass.
‘I want you to go over the plan in great detail once more before I make a decision,’ he told her with his heart in his mouth because his words were tantamount to agreeing to the proposition.
‘Before I do that, I have to ask whether you found anything in your dummy run that might prove to affect the plan. Anything at all, however small.‘
‘Two things,’ he replied candidly. ‘The first is that I have to get hold of Johnson’s key to the safe. Two of them are required to open it. I hold one, he has the other. Secondly, I need to get both code letters which are changed every week.’
‘Do you think you could get them?’
‘I could contact Head Office to tell them that his key had broken in the lock. They would send a locksmith around to change the lock immediately and give me new keys. I could get a copy made pretty quickly.’
‘And the codes?’
‘Each Monday, a message is sent to the Manager of the branch with the codes by fax machine. They send it at seven-thirty in the morning so that they can be changed by the start of business at nine o’clock. I could get into the Manager’s office by eight o’clock and take a copy of the fax. In that way, I’ll have both codes for the whole week.’
‘Excellent!’ she commended. ‘Okay, I’ll go through the whole plan again.’
Ten minutes later, he paused to sip his wine and pursed his lips. His next sentence would change his life in one of four different ways, each one representing a different scenario. The first related to his present position whereby if he decided not to go ahead with the plan, all that would happen was that he would remain with the bank in a different house, being divorced by his wife. Nothing new would happen The second situation was that he would be made redundant by the bank, be well compensated, but have to find work elsewhere in order to continue paying the bills. The third related to him going through with the plan and shortly relaxing on the beach on an island in the Caribbean with more money that he had ever imagined. The fourth concerned his capture and arrest if he undertook all the actions in the plan and for some reason it went wrong. If that happened, he would end up in prison without a job and without a future.
‘Well?’ she asked with an element of impatience. ‘What do you say? If it’s a no-go, we still have time to get to rehearsal.’
‘Well you stop thinking about rehearsal!’ he chided gently. ‘This is far more important!’
‘Only if you agree to carry out the plan,’ she riposted curtly. ‘It’s time for you to make up your mind. If you’re going to agree to do it, then say so!’
‘I don’t know, ‘ he said, suddenly feeling uncomfortable about the whole thing. ‘I think I’ll sleep on it.’
‘Well if you do decide to go with it,‘ she went on tiredly, ‘I’m all set for it. I have newspapers stacked in the boot of my car with a guillotine.’
‘Ah yes,’ he cut in briefly. ‘The famous guillotine but not the one used in the French Revolution!’
‘You can sneer,’ she returned irately, ‘but it’ll save a lot of time and trouble. I have no intention of cutting up newspapers to resemble the best part of a million pounds with a pair of scissors!’
‘I take the point,’ he told her, ‘but I still need to think about it.’
His words silenced her because she now understood that he was at the crossroads, starting to think positively about the plan. She had no idea why he was hesitating or the reason for him to suddenly change his mind. All she wanted was his agreement. If he did decide to go through with it, they would be resting on a far-distant beach within ten days with no more financial worries... providing that it all went according to plan!
‘Don’t hang me out to dry, Neil! Make a decision one way or the other. I’m not going to wait for weeks on end while you dither whether to do it or not. I want to know tomorrow at the latest.’.’
‘Don’t hassle me, Paula!’ he reproached. ‘I’ll let you know in my own good time.’
She stared directly at him. ‘You do realise I’m in love with you,’ she blurted out suddenly, surprising herself at the same time and regretting having made the declaration.
He reacted badly to the news. The last thing he wanted was to start another relationship at this particular time. Yet he felt that he was like a cork bobbing about in a violent sea. He had agreed to stay with the woman until he decided to live elsewhere... he was undergoing a divorce from his faithless wife... he was under threat of being made redundant ... and he was considering becoming involved in the criminal activity of robbing the bank in which he worked. His life was like a piece of elastic being stretched out to the full. Everything seemed to be tugging him in different directions. And now, with all those problems, the woman told him plainly that she was in love with him. Love was such a precious thing but the timing was all wrong. His mind went numb at the trouble which lay ahead and he almost felt suicidal at the clash of matters which affected him so deeply. He considered that one bottle of aspirins or jumping over a bridge would resolve all his difficulties in an instant. If only he had sufficient courage to do such at thing. No doubt, if he did so, his mother would cast all the blame on his wife for his demise.
Paula sipped her wine in the silence that prevailed. She had created a very awkward situation which she deeply regretted and she wished that she could withdraw the statement. Why on earth had she blurted out that she loved him? If he had one romantic bone in his body, he would have recognised that already However like most men, he was blind to body language and completely immune to the sensitive language of love. However what was done, was done and nothing would delete it or return the situation to its original position. As she mused about the problem, he turned to her suddenly and leaned across to take her hand.
