Give The Devil His Due

by H G White

  Tuesday 2.15 p.m. Charing Cross Station

  I hated driving in London. But we took a group decision that with Vaughan on crutches, it would be far easier on him if he were picked up by car and taken to the boat. This was preferable to the option of forcing him to endure more public transport after his train journey from Kent.

  Returning to Little Venice, I dropped Neil and Vaughan off near the mooring, then parked the car. Phil and Peach had stayed on board while Neil and I went to the station.

  Back at the boat, I climbed aboard. The excited chatter sounded more like a meeting of narrowboat enthusiasts than a meeting of great minds about to discuss the robbery of the century. Phil got the kettle on, I closed the doors and we all settled down. Peach took control, handing out a copy of his plan to each of us.

  ‘I think perhaps the best way to approach this is that you all take some time to read what I’ve prepared. Then we can go through it bit by bit. Vaughan, tell us if you think it’s workable.’

  We all sat there reading Peachy’s masterplan.

  Peach’s plan began with three of us (plus equipment) being dropped by Neil, driving a hired van, somewhere near the north boundary of the Shoreborough Estate. Using two lightweight ladders, ladder one (the ascent ladder) would be propped against the outside face of the boundary wall. The first man would ascend the ladder, then place ladder two (the descent ladder) on the other side of the wall, facing in the opposite direction. Each man would climb ladder one (outside the grounds) and descend ladder two (into them).

  Once the last man was on the top of the descent ladder, he’d have to lift the ascent ladder and pull it up over the wall. While the burglary of the Mansion took place, both ladders would be left near the entry location, flat and out of sight. This would be in readiness for a repeat of this process in the opposite direction to make good our escape once the retrieval had been completed.

  Inside the boundary wall, Peachy, Phil and I would have to make our way across the gardens and disable the security alarm before entering the house, avoiding any guards that might be patrolling the area.

  Peach had visited the estate to do a recce several months earlier. He’d established which security firm had the contract for protecting Shoreborough and where they were based. The company was called Guardian Security Services.

  If the alarm were raised, Peach estimated it would be around fifteen minutes response time for more GSS personnel to reach the site, assuming they were travelling from the company base. Police response times were an absolute unknown because the closest patrol car could literally be anywhere. Peach had also managed to ascertain the exact alarm system that Phil would have to deactivate. Cutting the power would not work, because it would mean the whole house would go into blackout. That in turn would bring out more GSS staff – something to be avoided.

  Instead, Phil would have to input the correct unlock code into a keypad situated on a wall near the east side entrance. I assumed he’d have to get the code right first time, but having watched him trying to hack into De Villiers’ computer and the many attempts he’d made, I had niggling doubts – especially if the keypad code was changed on a regular basis.

  Trev’d discussed this obstacle with Phil while Neil and I were at Charing Cross, and positive assurances had been given. So, taking it for granted Phil was successful and we gained entry, to the best of Peachy’s knowledge there were no indoor electronic security measures to be dealt with. Peach believed that the document would be in one of two places:

  (a) the library on the ground floor of the Mansion, or

  (b) the safe which was located in the basement of the house.

  His plan was to search the library first, if we couldn’t find what we were looking for, then we’d make our way to the basement and tackle the safe. The target of the retrieval was a set of personal journals that Moncourt had written detailing important events in his life. I wasn't sure how Peach had worked out that the document we were after would be contained in the journals.

  I asked him pointedly. ‘Surely if this note is inside the books, someone else would have seen it by now?’

  ‘No, I don't think so. During the recce, I made sure that I saw the journals, picking a time to visit when there was an exhibition on at Shoreborough. The journals are not normally on display, because the trustees of the estate consider them to be too valuable. The books contain Moncourt’s private thoughts on the design of Shoreborough. They are the only account written in his own hand that delineate every developmental step of the entire estate from its inception through to completion.’ Peachy paused, then went on.

  ‘Although they were in a display case, I was allowed to view them outside of it, mainly as a professional courtesy to the Archives. I didn't ask for unsupervised access, because I didn't want to arouse suspicion for obvious reasons. The journals are still in their original binding.

  ‘Inside the books are very specific instructions to the Moncourt trustees, those instructions being that the set must never leave Shoreborough.’

  ‘So where's the document then?’ I asked.

  ‘Well I think it's sewn into the binding,’ Peachy answered.

  Neil thought for a moment. ‘If it’s sewn into the binding won't it be stuck together having been sandwiched in there for a couple of hundred years?’

  ‘That was one of the reasons why it was pointless my asking to have unsupervised access. Any extraction would have to be done under laboratory conditions, which means not at Shoreborough. And don’t forget, the journals will probably end up severely damaged, perhaps beyond repair. That’d be a difficult one to explain to the trustees.’

  ‘What if you've got it wrong and the document isn't there?’

  ‘That, as they say, would be game-over. We'd all go back to our boring little lives and dream of what might have been.’

  I knew he was right. This had to come up trumps, otherwise I’d certainly spend the rest of my life feeling like a Bullseye loser, constantly hearing Jim Bowen’s voice say: ‘look at what you could have won’ and it most definitely wouldn’t be ‘Super, smashing, great!’. I guessed for Peter Steadman it’d be ten times worse because his share of the fortune was that much larger than ours.

  What's more, everything about the burglary made sense now. The only way the books could be properly examined would be if we were to steal them.

  As Peach said, it was also highly likely that once he’d got the binding off the journals, it would be very difficult if not impossible to get them back to their original condition. So ‘borrowing’ them and then trying to replace them afterwards without anyone noticing that they’d been tampered with was totally out of the question. A successful sortie, as Vaughan would put it, was the only solution.

  The latter part of the plan contained the finite detail: a map of the grounds, estimated timings, a brief description of the journals’ appearance (although not needed because Peach knew what they looked like and would be involved at the sharp end of things). Additionally, it included Neil’s instructions on where to go while the robbery took place and where to meet us once the retrieval was complete.

  I’d never thought about what it would take to execute such a serious robbery and was quite in awe at the detail Peach had produced for the masterplan. If I had to be honest I thought it was a work of genius. I was sure Vaughan would be blown away by it.

  After about quarter of an hour when everyone had read it, the room was quiet. Neil was the last to put his down on the table. It was time for Peachy to address us again.

  ‘So, what do you think?’

  Nobody said anything – we were all looking at Vaughan who pulled a pipe and a tobacco pouch out of his pocket. ‘Do you mind if I smoke a bowl? I find it does assist the old cerebral process somewhat.’ He looked around the room, but his gaze came to rest in Peachy’s direction – acknowledging his status as master of the vessel.

  ‘No, go ahead.’ Peach said. Vaughan smiled at him and nodded gently in gratitude. As he began to fill the pipe bowl wit
h tobacco, we all waited patiently, wondering what the voice of experience would have to say. In what was probably not more than half a minute, but seemed like forever, Vaughan had completed the task of preparing his pipe and began to light it. We all looked at him. The suspense was too much for Peach, he had to say something.

  ‘Do you think it’s workable Vaughan?’

  ‘Well dear boy, I don’t want to burst your bubble, but in a word – no.’

  Bum! – that didn’t go down too well. I could see Peachy getting a little hot under the collar. ‘What’s the matter with it then?’

  ‘Mmm, unfortunately I think the main problem is that if you decide to go through with this you will all end up having a holiday at Her Majesty’s pleasure.’

  Peachy stared at him. I was starting to feel a little uncomfortable. Vaughan began to give his reasons. ‘Trevor, first I must commend you on a sterling effort. I am impressed, but there are some things that you may have overlooked. Have you ever heard of the Golden Rule of Safecracking?’

  ‘No.’ Peachy looked bewildered.

  ‘Let me explain. You never spend more than twenty minutes trying to open a safe.’

  ‘Why twenty minutes?’ asked Phil.

  ‘Because aside from stealth, time is the single-most important factor when committing a robbery of this kind – it has a bearing on everything. The chances of your activity being discovered after twenty minutes are increased enormously, meaning that it would be absolute madness to continue after that amount of time has elapsed.

  ‘If this, as I am led to believe, is a one-time-only operation, then it is absolutely imperative you succeed. Let us assume that the document isn’t in the library and therefore the safe has got to be cracked. There are so many makes and models of safe, each requiring different methods of approach, that unless you know exactly which make and model, and preferably the date of manufacture, you are going to encounter problems. Specifications change periodically, even on the same model. You have to know what you are dealing with otherwise it will become a pointless exercise trying to crack it on site. What if after twenty minutes you haven’t got it open?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Peachy answered.

  Vaughan continued. ‘Well do you walk away and run the risk of never being able to come back and try again? Because obviously even if you don’t get caught, the attempt on the safe would be noted by GSS. The result of this, in all likelihood, will be increased security, and to such a degree that it then becomes impossible for any subsequent attempt to be made successfully.’

  ‘Well I suppose we’d have to walk away.’

  Vaughan had a little puff on his pipe. ‘Instead of trying to crack the safe, what if you took it with you?’

  Peach looked at him as though he was insane. ‘Er … Vaughan, do you know how much those things weigh?’

  ‘Trevor, it won’t be a bank safe we are talking about. Any reputable safe manufacturer would recommend the product that would be most suitable for the task. One has to know what most houses of this type would have. Unless of course there is something you’re not telling me?’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Like there are a thousand bars of gold bullion stored at this place, or the imperial state crown of Nicholas II, last Tsar of all Russia?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Well, in that case, if I had to estimate, based on my experience of houses similar to this, I’d say it won’t be over 200 kilos.’

  ‘That’s nearly 450 pounds Vaughan!’

  ‘Thank you for the prompt conversion.’ He wasn’t surprised.

  ‘So, just out of interest, when was the last time you lifted a 450 pound safe Vaughan?’ asked Trev.

  ‘Oh, let me see … if my memory serves me correctly, it was a shade less than 430 pounds, and about nine years ago.’

  ‘What, up a lightweight aluminium ladder?’

  I looked at Phil who just shrugged his shoulders. Neil’s face was blank. Peach was starting to get worked up; I could sense it. So could Vaughan. As Peach was about to speak, Vaughan raised his hand in a ‘please be quiet and you might learn something’ sort of gesture.

  ‘As I have already told you Trevor, there are several things that you have overlooked. Let us view your plan again.’

  We all started to re-examine the papers Peach had given us.

  ‘Now, cast your attention towards the map of the Shoreborough Estate itself. You are going to make your entry and exit into the grounds at this point. Am I correct?’ Vaughan indicated the mark on the north boundary wall and Peach nodded.

  ‘What is the first thing that comes to mind when you look at that?’

  He looked at each of us in turn. I hadn't got a clue what he was getting at.

  ‘Come on, I've already told you that the time of an operation is paramount.’

  Then Phil’s face lit up, almost as if an imaginary bulb had been switched on just above his head. ‘The distance!’ Phil looked smug.

  Vaughan probed. ‘Why the distance?’

  ‘Because it's quite a long way.’

  ‘Go to the top of the class Philip.’

  Peach had a look of frustration on his face that he hadn't been the first to spot this.

  ‘Yes, I would say, even at a conservative guesstimate, that the span from the boundary wall entry-point to the Mansion has got to be well over a mile. Don't forget you will have to cover that both ways. What if your presence during the operation were to be discovered? Are you all regular middle distance runners?’

  The answer was no; nobody was in tip-top condition. Of our group, I suspected Phil was the fittest, based purely on the fact that he had more free time on his hands to train than the rest of us due to the spasmodic nature of his work. Whether he actually pulled his finger out and got his arse down to the gym was another matter altogether.

  As I looked at the map and followed the road that skirted around the north part of the Estate, I couldn’t see anywhere along the road that had a shorter distance to the house than the point Peach had selected.

  ‘So where would you suggest entry is made then Vaughan?’ Peach asked.

  There was an air of ‘Come on, Mr Know-all, show us then’ about Peach's questioning. If Peach wasn't careful Vaughan would tell him to shove his plan, and bugger-off back to Kent.

  ‘Trevor, allow me to ask you a question, if I may?’

  ‘Go on.’ Peach was definitely rattled.

  ‘How much does that motorbike of yours weigh?’

  ‘I don't know. Three hundred kilos or so I suppose. I couldn't tell you without digging the manual out.’

  I was wondering where this was leading. Was Vaughan suggesting we do some sort of Steve McQueen/Evel Knievel-type jump over the estate wall?

  ‘That's brilliant Vaughan!’ Phil was patting Vaughan on the back.

  ‘Thank you Philip.’

  Brilliant? What the fuck was Phil on about? I looked at Peach and Neil, Peach started smiling. Neil was still as clueless as me.

  Peach then turned to Vaughan and said, ‘I'm really sorry I was so defensive Vaughan. I can see I've got plenty to learn.’

  ‘Ah, but you are learning, and that's the main thing dear boy.’

  Neil and I were still in the wilderness. I looked at Phil. ‘Could somebody tell me what's brilliant and what it is that Peach has just learned please?’

  Vaughan looked at Phil. ‘Enlighten him, if you will please Philip.’

  Phil grinned.

  ‘It's the boat. He's suggesting we use the boat.’

  I studied the map again and suddenly the penny dropped. One side of Shoreborough sat on the edges of the Trent and Mersey canal. Looking at the scale of the map, at a guess, the canal was probably only four hundred metres at most from the Mansion house.

  With solid pathway leading to a couple of stone bridges, it was a far shorter distance than the one suggested in Peachy's plan. The question of the motorbike’s weight was intended to establish the maximum lifting load the boat’s hydraulic arm could manage. />
  Vaughan looked at me. ‘You see Will, this is the ideal piece of equipment for execution of such an audacious enterprise. Undoubtedly it’ll take a couple of weeks for you to cruise to Shoreborough, but no-one in the world will ever suspect someone of using a narrowboat in such circumstances.

  The safe can be lifted aboard using the arm. A material cover can disguise it as deck furniture or whatever, it doesn't really matter.’

  I could see a flaw in Vaughan's thinking. ‘Surely though Vaughan, once the robbery is discovered it's not going to take two shakes before the police realise that the safe is on a barge and at four miles-an-hour it won't take long for them to catch up.’

  ‘Will, don't be so negative. The police are like hounds chasing a scent. If there is a scent somewhere else that’s stronger that will be the one they’ll chase. Take a look at the north boundary wall. There are two gates: the main gate and another. I am guessing they are padlocked at night?’

  He looked at Peach for confirmation. ‘Yes, with heavy-duty chains.’

  ‘Simple then. As the safe is being loaded on to the boat, but before any alarm has been raised, Neil will deposit a heavyweight lifting trolley just outside the gate. He can then cut the chain using bolt croppers and open it, leaving it ajar. Thus indicating this as the escape route. Any efforts to track the safe will be concentrated on the roads.

  ‘After a considerable distance has been put between the boat and Shoreborough, at a carefully-selected, quiet location, the safe is transferred to a van. Trevor’s motorbike must replace it on deck.

  ‘If subsequently, by some peculiar turn of events the boat were to be stopped, the bike will provide an adequate explanation for the strange object under cover. The safe, meanwhile, travels in the van to Newton Manor where it will remain until we are all present. At that point, I shall crack it for you.’

  What a mind Vaughan had! We were all smiling. His alternative to Peach’s plan was so daring. I wondered if it was a little too fanciful.