Ashanti Gold

by James Crosbie

  ‘Wholesale or retail?’ He looked at Colin as the door closed behind his secretary.

  ‘I’d like the articles to include a bit of both.’

  ‘Of course. Very wise.’ He received an approving nod. ‘Always better to be prepared for any contingencies. Ah, here we are.’ Perris produced a folder from the thick file his secretary had brought him. ‘The “Articles of Memorandum and Association” of this company cover every aspect of the confectionery trade. Would you like to read them in full?’

  ‘That won’t be necessary,’ Colin told him. ‘As long as they cover wholesaling, retailing, import and export I’ll be satisfied.’

  ‘Yes, of course. Well, this company,’ Perris glanced at the name on the folder, “Hansel”, was registered a month ago with myself and Miss Loomis as nominal directors, so if you could just give me your business address we can have the necessary transfer documents signed immediately.’

  Ten minutes later, Colin was back in Goldhawk Road, £150 poorer, but now the director of Hansel, a registered limited company. He was up and running.

  All I’ve got to do now is get Bert and Doc to commit themselves and we’ll be well away. His smile widened at the prospect and the knowledge that he had successfully completed a vital step in his plans to seize the Ashanti gold.

  19

  ‘So what do you think?’ Colin addressed Bert and Doc in the living room at Eustace Road.

  ‘Speaking for myself,’ Bert opened up, ‘I admit the job has possibilities. But I’ll need to know an awful lot more before I make any decision. I like the idea of getting into Ghana with the boxing crowd though. Checked with some of the chaps and the word is that Sports Tours is laying on a package deal and they say that the tickets are selling well. It’s your plans for afterwards I’m worried about. They’d have to be 100 per cent.’

  ‘That’s it for me too,’ Doc added. ‘We can travel out there easily enough, but it won’t be the same getting back. The place will be jumping with law.’

  ‘There’ll be some scream goes up,’ Colin agreed. ‘But there’s no Flying Squad out there. In fact, I’m willing to bet that the army will be left to deal with it.’

  ‘Fuck taking on the army!’ Bert snorted. ‘They’ll be out shooting.’

  ‘No danger!’ Colin waved him down. ‘By the time they begin to suspect anything is wrong, you’ll be back in Accra, just another couple of fans at the big fight.’

  ‘I admit I’m beginning to like the idea of taking it off the plane,’ Doc said. ‘But how would we know where we were? And how would we move the gold once we’re on the ground?’

  ‘I’ve already found an ideal spot for dropping the gold,’ Colin told him. ‘And I’m still working on the problem of making sure we get the plane to the right place at the right time. I’ll have to talk to someone who knows a bit about flying and something about parachute jumping.’

  ‘Could be lucky there,’ said Doc. ‘I went round to Eddie’s place after I left you this morning. He’s got a guy working casual with him – just out the army. From the way he looks and talks, Eddie reckons he was in some special unit, maybe even the SAS.’

  ‘Did you see the guy yourself?’

  ‘Nah. But he’s on shift at eight o’clock tonight and Eddie said he’d send him round here, like he was on a job.’

  ‘Sounds all right,’ Colin added. ‘Did Eddie say anything about the guy? I mean … does he think he would entertain a bit of villainy?’

  ‘Eddie says he thinks he’s all right. Got turfed out of the army for some reason or other.’

  ‘Could be just the man we need,’ Colin nodded. ‘If Eddie’s right, and this guy is sensible enough, we could be in luck.’

  ‘Supposing he is all right?’ It was Bert again. ‘You still haven’t mentioned how you plan to handle the gold if we do manage to get it on the ground.’

  ‘I’ve got that all sorted out. Anyway, it’s my problem. You hit the deck, get into the car and head straight for Accra. You’d be carrying nothing more incriminating than tickets for the fight.’

  ‘You think you can arrange it that way?’ Bert stared him straight in the eye.

  ‘It can be done!’ Colin’s voice left no room for doubt. ‘All we need is someone with experience in parachuting and we’re in business.’

  At five past eight a car horn sounded outside Bert’s window. With a nod to the others he went to the front door and beckoned the driver of the minicab inside. In a few moments a heavily built, fresh-complexioned young man of about twenty-five came striding into the room. He was fair-haired, tallish – around the five foot ten mark – but broad, sloping shoulders and a bulging chest made him look shorter. The turned-back cuffs of his shirt exposed strong wrists tapering to hands that were sturdy and workmanlike. A closer look would have shown his right hand roundly clenched, ready, moving a little as it squeezed and unsqueezed in a tight pumping motion.

  ‘Eddie sent you round?’ Bert’s voice relieved the tension.

  The man’s eyes seemed to lighten in his ruggedly handsome face and he relaxed a little, moving his lips in a faint natural smile. ‘Yeah … Maddren, 26 Eustace Road – 8pm. That’s the message I got.’ His voice was calm, even casual. ‘I am at the right address?’

  ‘You’re all right,’ Bert spoke again. ‘Did Eddie mention anything to you about coming round here?’

  ‘No. But he gave me the address himself and that’s usually the dispatcher’s job. Made me wonder.’

  Bert motioned towards a chair. ‘Take a seat, er …?’ He raised his eyebrows.

  The young man looked at him through coolly calculating eyes, then down on Doc and Colin who had both sat silently through the exchange. His brow wrinkled as if he was making up his mind, then he stuck out his hand.

  ‘Ray … Ray Quarry,’ he introduced himself.

  ‘I’m Bert Maddren. This is Joey Docherty – call him Doc, and Colin Grant. Two of my, er … associates.’

  ‘Pleased to meet you.’ Ray’s handshake was firm with each of them before he sank into the indicated chair, curious at his unusual reception.

  ‘Whisky?’ Bert held out a glass.

  ‘Not right now, thanks,’ he smiled easily. ‘Working tonight.’

  Bert didn’t press his hospitality, but he left the glass on the table. ‘Well, Ray, Eddie tells us you were in the army. That right, is it?’

  ‘Yeah.’ Ray was obviously puzzled at the enquiry but answered readily enough. ‘I was in the SAS, B Company.’ He shot out his wrist to look at his watch, reminding them he was working.

  ‘Don’t worry about the time,’ Doc spoke out. ‘I’ve had a word with Eddie.’

  ‘What is this then, a job interview?’ Ray came right to the point. ‘It’s pretty obvious you don’t want a taxi,’ he grinned good-humouredly at them.

  ‘Eddie tells me you were chucked out of the army?’ Bert brushed his question aside.

  ‘Uh-huh,’ Ray grunted, then realised more was expected. ‘Had a difference of opinion with an officer and got carried away with myself.’ He smiled grimly at the memory. ‘He’ll carry my mark for the rest of his days. They busted me to private, had me RTU’d and gave me twenty-eight days’ chokey and a DD.’

  ‘What’s all that mean?’ Colin spoke for the first time. ‘RTU’d … DD?’

  ‘Returned to Unit.’ Ray’s face hardened. ‘Chucked out of the SAS and posted back to the Paras so that when they court-martialled me the SAS stayed clean.’

  ‘And DD?’

  ‘Dishonourable Discharge.’ Ray seemed bitter at the admission. ‘Bastards like to kick you when you’re down.’

  ‘You didn’t like it then … the army, I mean?’

  ‘Didn’t like it? I loved it!’ Ray declared passionately, his iron-grey eyes suddenly flashing points of fire. ‘I signed up with the Paras for twelve years and enjoyed every minute of it. Transferred to the SAS after two years and liked it even better.’ His fists clenched on his knees, knuckles white. ‘Until some bastard of an officer acts
well out of turn and I get kicked out! “Conduct prejudicial to military discipline,” they called it.’

  ‘Rank has its privileges,’ Bert commiserated. ‘Someone’s got to carry the can.’

  ‘You said you were in the paras?’ Colin spoke up again. ‘You’ll have done a lot of jumps then?’

  ‘Over 300.’ There was a note of pride in Ray’s voice. ‘Low-level, high-altitude, freefall, static-line, day jumps and night jumps. I’ve done them all.’

  Colin was impressed with his answer. ‘You miss it then … the jumping I mean?’

  ‘I’ve only been out a few months,’ Ray answered. ‘But I must admit that I’m beginning to miss it. What with shunting around in this taxi carry-on – dead boring.’

  ‘You’d be interested in any other kind of work?’ Colin put the question, laying stress on the word ‘work’.

  Ray looked directly into his eyes, his own gaze steady, unspoken strength in its coolness. ‘I’m prepared to consider alternative work.’

  ‘You know the sort of work we’re talking about?’ Bert spoke slowly, his eyes fixed on Ray.

  ‘Well, seeing it was Eddie that sent me round and having heard a few tales from the other drivers about him, I don’t suppose you’re planning on opening a charity shop.’ He stared at Bert with narrowed eyes. ‘I’m interested. But I’m not getting involved in any real villainy – serious lawbreaking, that is.’

  Colin’s vibes had come good the moment Ray had been ushered into the room and he felt a pang of disappointment at his words. He believed in first impressions, and Ray had certainly made a good impression on him. With his military background, Colin knew he was ideal for the job. Knew too that they could work well together – make a good team – a winning team. In a world where first impressions and snap decisions could often mean the difference between success and failure, freedom or capture, he had that rare feeling of compatibility that told him: This is the man. He didn’t want to lose him.

  ‘You want to drive mini-cabs forever?’

  ‘It’ll do till something better comes along.’

  ‘Listen, Ray. You’ve been in the army too long. Things don’t just come along in real life. You’ve got to go out and grab the world by the throat and make your own opportunities come along,’ Colin told him. ‘You’ve got to take risks. People like us … we’ve got to make our own silver spoons.’

  Grey eyes bored into Colin. ‘Thanks for the offer, Colin, but no thanks.’ Ray started to rise to his feet. ‘I guess I’m just a law-abiding citizen at heart. Sorry chaps.’ Standing, he seemed to tower over them, the very image of strength and dependability. ‘I could recommend one or two guys, ex-SAS like myself, who might be interested,’ he offered. ‘But you’d have to take your chances with them.’

  ‘You definitely won’t change your mind?’

  ‘Who can say that about anything?’ Ray smiled easily. ‘Things get bad, or there’s reason enough … who knows what a man will do?’

  ‘By the time they get bad enough it could be too late to do anything,’ Colin pointed out.

  ‘I’ve been through bad times before,’ Ray turned towards the door.

  ‘I thought you SAS guys liked a bit of action?’ Bert sat back, his expression more bulldog than man as he looked quizzically up at Ray.

  ‘I’ve seen my share of action,’ Ray snapped, his eyes suddenly hard chips of flint as he looked back on a memory. ‘And seen things and done things I’d rather not.’ He hesitated at the door. ‘You don’t have a lot of choice in the army, you know.’

  ‘You’d have a choice with us,’ Colin pointed out. ‘You wouldn’t be forced into anything.’

  ‘Honest, Colin, I really do appreciate the offer, but …’ Ray shook his head and flashed a look at his wristwatch. ‘Time I was moving.’

  ‘You’d rather drive a taxi around London than take a crack at a load of gold in Ghana?’ Doc ignored Colin’s angry look.

  Ray spun on his heel. ‘Gold!’

  Colin’s anger at Doc was forgotten as he recognised the sudden animation on Ray’s face. ‘And brings all their vices to the surface,’ he heard Fred O’Hara’s voice intoning in his head.

  Ray turned back into the room. ‘Gold!’ he said. ‘Gold in Ghana … the old Gold Coast?’

  Doc looked at Colin and shrugged. He had never heard of the Gold Coast.

  ‘That’s right,’ Colin replied for him. ‘Ghana, West Africa.’

  ‘The White Man’s Graveyard.’ Ray gave a smile. ‘You’re thinking of doing something out there?’ He stared directly at Colin.

  ‘I’ve just come from there, as a matter of fact.’

  Ray nodded his understanding. ‘Recce … and back now for the troops.’

  ‘More or less,’ Colin admitted. ‘It’s just something I stumbled across out there and it’s too good to miss.’

  ‘Join the villains and see the world,’ Bert quipped, sensing a change in the atmosphere.

  ‘You’ve heard more than you should have,’ Colin threw a look at an unrepentant Doc. ‘But it’s right enough. We’re planning on going to Ghana after a shipment of gold bullion.’

  ‘It certainly sounds more interesting than all the cowboy carry-on we hear about nowadays,’ Ray said. ‘I could get interested in a load of gold bullion.’

  ‘But it’s villainy,’ Colin added. ‘I’m talking heavy stuff. It involves travelling and it involves shooters; replicas right enough, but it would still be considered armed robbery. I can’t tell you any more than that until you declare yourself in or out. But if you’re in, you’re in at the deep end.’ He willed Ray to commit himself.

  Ray focused alert, intelligent eyes on each of them in turn. ‘The other drivers say that’s how Eddie got himself set up in business. He sent me round, so I presume he knows what’s going on?’

  ‘He only knows we need a man to make up the firm again,’ Colin told him.

  ‘And I’m to take his place,’ Ray deduced aloud. ‘Well, he seems to have done well enough out of it.’ He stood in a thoughtful silence, letting his eyes dwell on each of them in turn before speaking again.

  ‘I spent nearly five years carrying a gun for my country. I took risks then for army pay and look what it got me – court-martialled and chucked in the glasshouse. Now look at me … hacking about London in a mini-cab.’ He clenched his fist, and made a pumping motion. ‘I’ve changed my mind. If there’s room for me, I’d definitely like to be in on this gold business.’ He encompassed them with an intense, hard-eyed look, chin jutting aggressively.

  Colin felt a surge of relief and stuck out his hand. ‘Welcome to the firm, Ray. I’m sure you’ll fit in well with us.’

  Bert satisfied himself with a firm handshake accompanied with a stiff nod of acceptance. When he sat down again he pushed the still untouched whisky over to Ray and topped up the other glasses. He picked up his own measure and held it out.

  ‘Here’s to the new firm. May it reign successfully.’ Bert nodded his glass at each of them, receiving the same salute in return, before downing the toast. Ray hesitated, looking into his glass for a thoughtful moment, then decisively threw his whisky back, almost as if he was swallowing his past.

  ‘Well,’ Colin addressed the new member. ‘You can forget about taxi driving now, at least for the next few weeks or so.’

  ‘I need the money,’ Ray pointed out. ‘I’ve still got to eat and pay the rent.’

  ‘You’re on the firm,’ Colin replied. ‘We’ll keep you going till the first earner.’

  Ray’s face stiffened. ‘No offence,’ he said. ‘But I don’t take handouts. Anything I get, I’ll earn.’

  ‘Don’t worry about that,’ Colin assured him. ‘You’ll earn it all right. Why do you think we’re so interested in your army career?’

  ‘I suppose it’s the SAS reputation.’

  ‘There’s more to it than that.’ Colin looked speculatively at him. ‘Over 300 jumps, you said?’

  ‘Three hundred and seventeen, to be exact. Fifty-two wi
th the army, the rest with parachute clubs. I’ve got an instructor’s rating and we have to log every jump.’

  ‘You’ll have spent a lot of time in the air then, flying I mean?’

  ‘Well,’ Ray gave a hearty laugh. ‘You’ve got to get up before you can come down. Yeah, I’ve done my share of flying time.’

  ‘Ever done any actual flying? Piloting a plane, I mean?’

  Ray shook his head. ‘I’ve been up a few times as dispatcher and the pilot’s let me hold onto the controls for a few minutes now and again, but I’ve never actually flown a plane.’

  ‘H’mm,’ Colin nodded thoughtfully to himself and turned to Bert and Doc. ‘So we can accept that Ray is an expert on parachuting.’ He received nods of agreement. ‘That means he’ll be able to advise us and I’ll be in a position to put forward a finalised plan for the job we’re discussing.’

  Ray broke into the conversation. ‘If I’m going to be any help to you you’ll have to put me fully in the picture. It’s fairly obvious that parachutes are involved but you’ll have to be more specific.’

  Colin nodded his head. ‘You’re right. You’ll have to be told.’ He looked at the other two, waiting until he received nods of agreement before turning back to Ray.

  ‘You’re right enough,’ he said. ‘The job we’re considering does involve parachutes. But there’s more to it than that.’ He took a deep breath before continuing. ‘What we’re thinking about is hijacking an aeroplane.’ He saw Ray straighten in his chair, eyes widening in surprise. ‘I know it sounds ambitious, but once you’ve heard the details I think you’ll see the possibilities.’

  Bert interrupted. ‘We’re still only considering the hijack business,’ he reminded Colin, before turning back to Ray. ‘We’ve got other work lined up, Ray. So even if we decide against this hijacking idea you’ll still be on the firm for anything else we set up.’

  Ray moved his shoulders in a shrug. ‘Yeah, well thanks for that, Bert. But I’ve already told you I’m not really interested in er … general villainy. This gold’s another matter. I could go for that all right. Mind you, there’s not been much success in the hijacking business. I mean, has anyone ever actually pulled off a robbery in the sky?’