A Time To Pay

by David Woods

  Brian awoke first when he heard the vacuum pump start up. He kissed Anna’s eyes. She woke up and looked at Brian. “Oh dear, I should have gone back before” she whispered. “Never mind we will wait until mum goes down.”

  They cuddled up together for ten minutes until they heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs, and she crept back to her room without making a sound.

  Brian dressed quickly and turned his thoughts to the day ahead. By the time Anna arrived on the scene he had his paperwork out, making notes on the questions they should ask during their next meeting, which was with another manufacturer of haymaking and grass cutting equipment.

  The meeting was similar to the previous one with the proprietor showing them around, and discussing prices. However, this gentleman was much younger, about thirty five, could speak very good English and had been hoping to break into the English market for some time, but lacked the marketing ability. When they were satisfied that no further progress could be made, they shook hands and left to lunch in nearby Antwerp.

  After lunch Anna thought it would be good idea to find out about export paperwork, and they visited the appropriate government department that dealt with these matters. They talked to a helpful lady, who furnished them with all the necessary information and forms. They were both surprised how easy it was, and Brian had already dealt with the importing authorities in England, so it all seemed straight forward.

  The next day they had time to spare and had a leisurely breakfast. Anna gave Brian a serious look. “We seem to have forgotten about those villains who nearly killed us,”

  “I’ll never forget them, but I admit I haven’t given them much thought for a while.”

  “They could still wreck our plans for the future.”

  “Yes, I suppose they could.”

  “That Opel you smashed up was registered in Antwerp. It’s owner, who is probably still seething with rage, might live near the farm, or Mr Vogler’s factory.”

  “And if he finds out about us starting a business, he might just consider blackmailing us.”

  “Or kill us.” Anna shuddered and gripped Brian’s hand. They sat in silence, both imagining the worst.

  Brian broke the silence. There are four men out there somewhere, who would like to get their hands on us.”

  “Yes, and if they all got together, they would soon find us. We would not stand a chance.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Venk and Van Hagen arrived back in Antwerp late that night, both shattered. Just before Van Hagen dropped Venk off at his house, he announced. “I do not want to smuggle any more stolen jewellery through Calais or, get involved in any of your criminal activities again.” He was expecting Venk to explode, but he just looked at him and nodded.

  “I don’t blame you. This last trip was a disaster.”

  “It was the last straw, and I’ve been thinking about packing up for some time.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’m thinking about starting my own road haulage firm with Jan de Vere as my partner.”

  “The best of luck to you! I’m sure you will succeed.”

  “And what about you? “What are your plans?”

  “Oh. I’ll think of something.” They shook hands and went their separate ways.

  Van Hagan sincerely hoped they would not meet again, and felt very relieved to have made a break with crime. He walked back to his flat via the park, stopping when he came to the seat where he had rested before, and sitting down to think before going home. He looked across the park, remembering the couple cuddling and the events that led on from his telephone call to Venk. He knew he should have made a clean break before, and then the young couple would not have been subjected to such danger and harassment. He shuddered as he remembered Venk badgering him to shoot at the pair as they rode in front of the car, although he had not intended to hit them and was pleased when they were out of range. What if he had hit the girl? The thought made him feel sick. He visualised them both laid out on the side of the road covered in blood, and Venk searching through their luggage for the money. He swallowed hard, cheering himself up when he thought of Venk getting a good hiding from the boy, and seeing him sitting in that café soaking wet and totally humiliated. To think that he still wants to get even with the boy, he must be sick in the head. His thoughts returned to the young couple, imagining them riding off towards Switzerland and knowing danger was behind them. The best of luck to them, and if I ever see them again I certainly will not tell Venk. Feeling cold, he walked home looking forward to seeing his wife, Caroline, and telling her the good news.

  Caroline had met Venk just once, found him quite obnoxious and refused to meet him again under any circumstances. After that encounter a year ago, she had tried to get her husband to go straight and many times had tried to persuade him to tell Venk to go to hell.

  Ben Van Hagen was thirty-one and had been a lorry driver until he met Venk, but was lured by the easy money offered to smuggle stolen gems. He and Caroline had been saving up to buy a house in the country, and had just about accumulated enough money. He walked slowly up the stairs, his side still aching and was pleased to be able to rest. Caroline was delighted to see him and gave him a hug.

  “Steady on, love. I’m still tender.”

  She stood back and looked at him. “You are very pale. Are you still in much pain?”

  “It is not so bad, but I’m just tired. And hungry.”

  She kissed his forehead. “I will get you something to eat.”

  “In a minute. I must tell you something first.” She sat down at the table opposite. “I’ve finally told Venk I am finished with his stolen jewels racket, and all his other schemes.”

  Caroline was delighted. “Oh, Ben, that is wonderful news. But what are you going to do?”

  “I want to start my own road haulage business with Jan.”

  “What a good idea.”

  “Yes, but I will need cash. And I am hoping you will agree to me using the money we’ve saved towards a house.”

  “Of course.” The house can wait. This is much more important.”

  “Oh, Caroline, you’re marvellous.”

  He got up and put his arms around her, kissing her lips. She was thrilled at this demonstration of affection, and when he released her said. “Sit down, and I’ll get some food.”

  They ate silently and deep in thought. Whilst they drank their coffee Caroline said. “We can live on my wages until the business gets going. We will have to cut down on some things, but we’ll manage.”

  Caroline had always been a good manager and Ben appreciated it. “What would I do without you?”

  She smiled. “Probably much better than you have so far.”

  “Nonsense. I would probably be in prison.”

  After washing up they had a nightcap, went to bed and gently made love. Caroline had not felt so happy in years as they cuddled up together and slept soundly.

  Whilst Caroline went to work the next day, Ben went to the hospital for an X-ray. This revealed no problems and he went home to rest after making arrangements with Jan to meet the following day.

  Jan de Vere was twenty-two, single and spent most of his money on girls. He lived with his mother, who spoiled him as a child and had no control over him since he was sixteen. He did not know his father, who had been killed in an accident when Jan was a baby. Ben had been a good friend and had become a sort of father figure so he trusted him completely, even after the last trip that left Jan with a broken nose and bruised ribs. As he said to Ben it was his own fault for tying the girl too tight and making her scream.

  Jan arrived at the flat in time for coffee, and the two men sat at the kitchen table, with Ben relating the sequence of events since they last met. Jan thought it the funniest story he had heard for years and laughed until his eyes watered.

  “It was not that amusing” sai
d Ben.

  “It was extremely amusing. That bastard Venk had finally got what he deserves. Pity his nose didn’t get smashed.”

  Ben tried to stop laughing. “Stop it. Laughing is not good for my injuries.”

  “Although that boy smashed my nose and half killed me, I would still like to shake his hand.”

  They both agreed the young couple deserved all the luck they could get, and it was a pity that they had been responsible for causing them trouble.

  “What are we going to do now?” Jan enquired.

  “Now I’ve told Venk to get stuffed, we will have to go straight.”

  “Good. I can get a regular job lorry driving.”

  “We can do better than that. Why not start our own road haulage business?”

  “What with?” I haven’t got much money.”

  “I can raise enough to buy one lorry and you have a pick-up.”

  They talked until lunch, agreeing Ben would be boss, as he was putting up most of the cash. Ben prepared sandwiches with a drink, and by the time they had finished eating, both were quite excited about their future prospects. They carried on talking as they drove in Jan’s pick-up to the old broken down cottage, where they had hidden Ben’s Citroen and it was still there, much to his relief. Before they left they looked upstairs at the blood stains on the floor and decided it might be wise to remove any evidence.

  “You never know who will look in here” Ben remarked. They collected the short lengths of rope and laid an old rotting piece of carpet over the stains.

  The journey back took longer than anticipated, and they arrived at the flat as it was getting dark. Caroline had dinner prepared and ready to cook, and was quite happy when she saw Jan walk in with Ben. “There is plenty for all of us.”

  They ate a satisfying meal after which they continued to discuss the future, and it was agreed to call the new company Van Hagen Haulage. Caroline had bought some stationary during her lunch break, and said she would take charge of the book keeping, which delighted both men because they were not familiar with that side of business. It was also agreed they should obtain receipts for anything they purchased, no matter how small. They carried on planning until midnight and made considerable progress completing a comprehensive list of things to be purchased with costs, and agreeing they had sufficient money to start. All three of them were to be partners, with Ben as the senior.

  During the next two weeks they all worked harder than ever before, and were ready with a good second-hand lorry painted with their new company logo. Jan had talked to some of his old lorry driving colleagues, and had secured their first small contract to deliver machine tool parts from Antwerp to Amsterdam. They celebrated at the flat the same evening with a bottle of cheap Champagne, after a huge dinner cooked by exhausted but happy Caroline.

  Ben had engaged an accountant and the proposed business became a registered company. He looked at Ben’s figures, suggested borrowing money to finance a second lorry as soon as possible and this was agreed by the partners.

  In the meantime Ben had secured a second contract for the first lorry, and Jan had arranged a regular return load from Amsterdam to Antwerp. Within a month they were both driving full time, with Caroline busy every evening with accounts work, and both men were getting home later and later. It then became apparent that a third lorry was required together with a full time driver. The accountant agreed, but advised them to buy a new lorry this time.

  Five months passed and an exhausted Caroline had become swamped with paperwork. The three partners had a meeting on a Sunday morning, the only time they could all meet, and agreed Caroline should leave her job and be paid a salary by the company. This made a tremendous difference to them and they soon progressed to renting a builder’s yard and office. All three of them worked for three Sundays in a row converting the premises to a haulage contractor’s yard, with plenty of spare room for expansion if necessary.

  Venk drove a hire car to his small house in the country, parked in the drive and walked through the front door to find it smelt damp and musty. He had been away for about three weeks. He had lived alone for the past four years, since his wife walked out on him. She had always been kind and given him all the love any man could wish for. He had not returned her love, although had always provided the material things she needed without question. He regularly lost his temper and hit her.

  His wife left one day when he was away, leaving a note explaining why and begging him not to try and find her. He did not but remained bitter about her departure, insisting to his friends that he gave her everything.

  His clothes were still damp. He undressed quickly, collapsing into the unmade bed, sleep coming instantly. He remained in this condition for twelve hours, waking with a headache and stiff joints.

  What remained of the following day was spent soaking in a hot bath and feeling sorry for himself. He did not eat until evening and then drank too much brandy, which knocked him out again. He slept in an alcoholic haze until the next morning, when he had a bread roll for breakfast and drank three cups of coffee. Feeling a bit more alert, his thoughts returned to recent events and the boy whose face was embedded in his mind. His hatred had become so intense, he could only think of ways to find and kill the ‘motorcycling animal’ and then rape and kill his precious girlfriend. First he had to get some money to live on and replace his beloved Opel, and he sat down to take stock of the situation. The house was his with nothing owing on it. He had savings but did not want to use them and there was a little jewellery he could sell.

  The jewellery raised enough to buy a good second hand Beetle and provide working capital. He could live for a while on the money from the sale of the uncut diamonds.

  During the next few days, and between regular trips to Antwerp, he cleaned the house and did some gardening, jobs he did not like but had to be done. One day as he walked back to his car after shopping, he passed a newsagent with foreign newspapers displayed. He froze when he saw the front page of an English paper which stated ‘Jewel thieves captured’ He loaded the shopping into the car and hurried back to buy a paper, reading it whilst standing on the pavement. It reported that eight men had been charged with various offences. No names had been released, but the police were continuing with their enquiries. Venk had planned to return to England again to buy some stolen jewellery, but this news made him question the wisdom of such a move. If the brothers had been arrested, they might name him as their fence and give his description.

  The next day the newspaper gave a list of the men charged that, as he suspected, included the Jones brothers who had admitted to the burglary. That is it, he thought. There is no way I can go back there, but I do need to raise some money somehow without there being too much risk involved. Then he thought about ‘the boy’ again and he drove to the farm remaining in his car within sight of the drive. Nearly all day he sat brooding and watching. On arrival back home he soon found out the name of the farmer and his telephone number, which he dialled the next day. “Can I speak to the young Englishman, please?”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry, but Brian won’t be back for two weeks.”

  “Very well, I’ll ring again. Goodbye” Venk added stiffly. He had plenty of time to concoct a plan and for his mind to get screwed up. The two weeks dragged by slowly as he thought up a variety of criminal schemes to make money, none of which filled him with much enthusiasm. Thoughts of revenge rarely left him, and finally when the two weeks had passed he rang the farm again and spoke to Brian. “You do not know me, but I know all about you.” He tried to sound mysterious.

  “Who are you? What do want?”

  “Never mind who I am. I know that you collected stolen uncut diamonds from an old shed in a wood in Kent, sold them in Antwerp and took the proceeds to Switzerland.”

  “How clever you are. So what do you want?”

  “Two hundred thousand pounds or, I will go to the police.”

 
; “Are you the evil bastard who tried to kill us?”

  “I told you, my identity doesn’t matter.”

  “It bloody well does matter. I bet it was you or one of your cronies.”

  “Just meet me with the cash, and you will hear no more.”

  “Go to hell!” Brian slammed the receiver down. Stunned and thoroughly despondent he slumped into an easy chair, the colour drained from his face. Anna was nearby and overheard Brian’s side of the conversation. They both sat in the Van Meer’s dining room that was furnished with a dark oak table, chairs and sideboard. There was a telephone extension in the room which had rarely been used before Anna requisitioned the room to be used as an office. It was a large room with two easy chairs at one end by a large window, which afforded a view across farmland. The light through the window reflected on the white paper scattered around the table, making Brian look even paler than he really was. Anna came to his side quickly. “What was all that about? You look terrible.”

  “It was what we’ve been dreading, someone trying to blackmail us. Oh my God, he knows all about us.”

  “What does he want?”

  “Money, of course. Two hundred thousand pounds, in return for keeping quiet.”

  They sat in silence for a while as the full gravity of the situation sank in. Anna broke the silence. “It has to be one of those four men.”

  “Quite, they’re the only ones who know about us. But what would they gain by going to the police?”

  “A certain amount of satisfaction in seeing us locked up, I suppose.”

  “What about the risk involved? They could get done for receiving stolen property.”

  “Yes that is true. I think you did the right thing telling him to go to hell.”

  Brian suddenly felt considerably brighter. “Yes, that evil sod must be bluffing.”