Ester rammed her shotgun through the broken window. The men inside still lay sprawled on the floor in terror as two more shotguns appeared through the broken windows from the other side. Dolly was the only one to give the order and she screamed it. ‘Open the doors. Come out.’
Mike switched on the powerful beam of the positioned spotlight, twisting it a fraction to aim directly at the centre carriage. He had seen the train moving off and knew or hoped the driver’s phone would be scrambled. Then he jumped into the speedboat and with the rowing boat trailing behind, headed at top speed for the bridge. He cut the engines as he came directly in line with the spotlight. It covered the doors of the train and the path down to the rowing boat.
The dazed and terrified guards came out one by one. Dolly took up her position, screaming instructions as she pointed the shotgun towards them. ‘Lie down, face down.’
Suddenly she saw, to her horror, that the mail carriage was slowly moving to the gap in the bridge. It was going to go over the side as it creaked and groaned towards the gap.
The guards lay down beside the track, as, unaware of the danger, Connie and Gloria went aboard. Ester came round to the open doors. The sacks were passed out and dropped into the rowing boat, easily seen by the spotlight. Inch by inch, the carriage kept moving closer to the hole as they worked frantically. Below, Mike stacked the bags, gesturing to the women without saying a word. They all knew the danger but Dolly stood over the men, who didn’t move as they lay face down listening to the bags crashing down and the awful sound of the carriage as it ground towards the gap.
The guards were helpless to do anything and, if they moved so much as a muscle, they felt a hard dig in the centre of their back. The women all wore ski masks, not one showing her face as they worked on, lifting, passing, dropping the mailbags, the danger obvious, the carriage still on the move.
Jim had limped to the nearest house and called the police. He was incoherent but kept repeating police and train and bombs. It was confused but the police were moving out and heading towards the railway station. They would be there in four minutes.
Ester was first to leave. She ran down to the horses and loosened the reins of hers, dragging him towards the water. Julia was already waiting, looking with desperation towards the bridge. Then the spotlight cut out, the batteries overloaded, leaving the bridge in darkness. ‘Jesus, God, they’re gonna go down with the bloody carriage. It’ll hit the rowing boat.’ She wanted to scream out to them to get off the bridge but still the bags came over until the boat sat low in the water.
‘Get out, move it,’ muttered Ester.
Gloria was next to leave, and the carriage suddenly shot forward by three feet, so that it hung like a seesaw over the bridge. Mike started the speedboat. He didn’t care if they lost one or two bags – he wasn’t going to risk being under the bridge any longer. He opened the throttle and headed back to the jetty. Next stage was hurling the bags out of the boat and into the saddle-bags on the waiting horses. Mike began helping Ester and Julia. They turned as they saw masses of bricks and twisted metal crash from the bridge. Connie, still inside the carriage, whipped round to see Dolly waving for her to get out, but she froze as the creaking grew louder and louder.
Dolly looked at the men, and back to Connie. She reached out and grabbed her by the arm, dragging her forward.
‘Jump.’
Connie pulled back, stiff with fear, but Dolly repeated, the delay taking vital minutes. They would never make the run back to the horses and she pushed at Connie again. ‘Jump!’
Dolly pulled Connie to the edge of the crumbling bridge, and half-holding, half-dragging her, they jumped the twenty-five feet to the water below. The shotgun flew from Dolly’s hand as she hit the water.
Connie surfaced first, gasping and flailing in the water with her hands. ‘I can’t swim.’
Mike had hurled out the last bag. He had stacked two in the speedboat and jumped aboard, heading across the lake towards the other side, unaware that both Dolly and Connie were in trouble in the water. Connie was bringing Dolly down time and time again as she clawed and scratched at her in a desperate panic to stay afloat.
Julia lifted her filled bags off Helen and climbed back into the saddle. ‘Just keep moving as planned – Ester, go on! We’ll catch you up.’ She kicked the horse’s ribs and set off into the lake, Helen not batting an eyelid as they waded deeper and deeper. Connie and Dolly remained dangerously close to the water underneath the rocking carriage. Bricks and concrete slabs began to plummet into the water.
Julia waded deeper, and Connie clung to Dolly, who tried her best to keep the frightened woman afloat. They had no time to clutch at Julia’s hands so they just grabbed Helen’s tail as Julia turned in the water and headed back to the shore. Gloria and Ester had gone, leaving the tethered horses standing loaded with mailbags.
As they reached the shore, Connie began to scream but Dolly slapped her face hard. ‘Get out of here! Get on your horse and get out! Move it!’
Connie, sobbing and soaked to the skin, stumbled to her horse. She could hardly mount but neither Julia nor Dolly paid her any attention as they heaved Julia’s bags on to Helen. They had a long way to go before they were finished.
Mike left the boat, ran to his car. He remained calm, refusing to allow himself to put his foot flat to the car floor. If he was caught now, speeding or otherwise, he had two mailbags crammed with money in the boot. He took the route away from the station and as far from the manor as possible. He had every road listed and directions at the ready. Dolly Rawlins hadn’t left anything to chance. He hadn’t seen that she and Connie had almost drowned.
The police cars, four in all, were hampered by the closed level-crossing gates and lack of information, but by now the scream was on that the mail train had been hit and their radios blurted out instructions for blocks to be set up on all major roads within the area. They had no information as to what getaway cars were being used by the bandits. Their instructions were that all vehicles were to be stopped and searched.
No police car could get anywhere near the bridge. The guards were running down the sides of the track, their only exit from the bridge. The carriage remained balanced. Police vehicles began to attempt to make their way down to the lakeside. There was pandemonium on all sides and as they tried to question Jim he broke down. He didn’t know anything, he could tell them nothing, he had seen no one, no vehicles. He was still in a state of shock.
The three guards were in a similar state as, one by one, they were helped from the bridge. One man was bleeding badly from where the glass in the carriage window had slashed his cheek. An ambulance was called.
Mike made it on to the motorway. No roadblock was as yet set up but he didn’t look back, he just kept on driving. It was a long drive home and he wasn’t safe yet. He wouldn’t be until he boarded the plane. He didn’t give any thought to the women. He just drove and stayed within the speed limit.
The final stages were hampered by exhaustion but not one of them flagged. They pushed themselves on. They had galloped across the fields, up through the woods, keeping to cover as much as possible. They galloped down from the woods into the manor grounds, their bags thrown from their horses and left by the side of the lime pit, which was open and ready.
Julia leapt from Helen in her haste to start ripping open the mailbags. She hurled the money into the skip and threw the bags into the lime pit. Connie rode up, hurled her bags to the ground and, still sodden from the lake, wheeled her horse round and galloped off, passing Dolly, the last to return, just as she headed down from the woods.
Julia grabbed Dolly’s bag, ripping it open. The money was stacked high in the open skip but she never stopped and, as the pit gurgled and hissed, she pressed the empty canvas mail bags down with a rake. Without pausing for breath, she dragged the corrugated iron across the pit. She hooked up the skip chains to the old truck standing by in position and began to drag it across the pit, over the corrugated iron. It left deep indentations in
the wet ground – the rain had not stopped all night.
Meanwhile, the rest of the women restabled the horses, gathered up the cladding used on their hooves and took them to the stable yard tip. They threw them in and set fire to them but they were so wet they took a while to ignite. The horses’ tack was replaced in order. No one spoke – they could hardly draw breath from exhaustion and panic – but they were still going by their plans, even down to replacing the stable-keys in their hiding place. Then they went to the parked Mini, where Gloria was waiting patiently at the wheel. They almost had to haul Dolly inside she was so tired. But it was not over, not yet.
By the time they returned to the manor, Julia had still not finished. She was hoovering up the money from inside the skip, then emptying it into thick black rubbish bags, each one tied hard at the neck. Gloria ran from the Mini as the others moved into their jobs, lifting the bags, stashing them into the back of the car. They pushed and squashed them inside as bag after bag was tied and handed over.
Gloria and Connie began a slow studied walk, eyes to the ground to look for any single note that might have come loose. They didn’t need any torches now as the sun was coming up and it was light. The Mini stashed to the roof, Julia and Ester drove out. They knew they could be stopped at any second and neither spoke as they drove on, both their mouths bone dry with nerves. They still had not seen a single police car as they drove into Norma’s cottage pathway and round the back to the barn.
It was pitch dark, and Julia used a small map torch held in her mouth to force open the door of the old coal chute. It had been painted as the cottage was now centrally heated but the chute was wide enough to take a coal bag and long enough for the bags to be rammed against each other. The other end of the coal chute was blocked off, bricked over down in the cellar. All they had to do was stuff the bags down the hole and replace the covering. Julia had brought some blackened putty to replace any dislodged from the wall as the door had not been opened for years. It was painted black, with design and date picked out in white and red – a feature of the old cottage wall. Now it was more of a feature to them because it held all their money. They had to shove hard to get the door to shut when they’d finished.
Dolly had now joined Connie, who was on her hands and knees searching the ground. The shotguns had been ditched in the lake, the mailbags were hopefully rotting, but still it was not over – not until Dolly was satisfied they were in the clear. One note and they’d be screwed. They found four or five but kept on searching as Gloria raked over the deep tracks left by the skip. She brought stones and branches and stamped them down to disguise any movement around the pit.
They did not stop until Julia and Ester returned. Then they parked the Mini and headed into the kitchen. Dolly set light to the black book in front of them and threw the ashes into the waste-disposal unit. All their equipment had already been dumped in the local tip but still they checked that there was no incriminating evidence around the house. It was almost seven o’clock before Dolly ordered them to change and get into their beds. They’ll be coming and they’ll be around for a long time. We just sit tight, stay calm, and keep on here as if nothing ever happened. This is the most difficult part. Any one of you can blow it so it’s up to you all now, and I dunno about you lot but I’m totally knackered.’
She walked slowly up the stairs and they saw her going to her room. No one congratulated anyone, Connie broke down crying and Gloria gave her a squeeze, telling her to hold it together. They then went their separate ways to bed.
Julia hugged her pillow tightly, the exhaustion still held at bay by adrenalin. She watched as Ester flopped back on the pillows. ‘Well, so far so good. We did it.’
Ester drew up the sheets around her chin and turned away. Julia leaned over her. Ester was crying and Julia kissed her shoulder, but didn’t say anything because she felt like weeping herself.
Connie cried herself to sleep.
Gloria lay wide awake, waiting for the knock on the door. She was still waiting when she fell into a deep sleep of exhaustion like the rest of them.
Dolly, in her room, couldn’t stop smiling. It felt so good – she felt so good. She couldn’t think of sleeping and she had one eye on the clock, waiting to hear if Mike had made it home without any trouble. In the end she felt her eyes drooping and couldn’t stay awake. She slept with her arms clutching her pillow like a lover.
Mike let himself into the house. He emptied the money bags, putting the cash into two big suitcases and covering them with clothes he’d already got prepared. He then sat in the dining room, watching the mailbags burn. It took a long time and a whole packet of firelighters as the canvas was supposed to be fire resistant. He even poured some white spirit on top of them but it was a hard job for them to catch alight. Then he took the ashes outside and tipped them into the dustbin, went back in and emptied two rubbish bins full of junk Susan had chucked out while she had been packing. It was a while before he was satisfied the ashes could not be found.
Angela was fast asleep in his bed. He stood watching her from the doorway. She looked so young and innocent that he couldn’t resist kissing her just one last time. She woke with a start.
‘Will you call home and tell Dolly you and the kids are okay? Do it now, so she’s not worried about you.’
She yawned and sat up as he walked to the door. ‘I’ll get the girls dressed and start breakfast.’
Dolly could hardly raise her head. Her whole body felt stiff all over as if she’d been in a boxing match. She blinked as the phone cut through her brain and eventually reached out for it. It was Angela, just to say they were fine and would get the first train back.
‘Good.’ Dolly leaned back on her pillow. ‘Get a cab from the station, will you? And some fresh bread from that little corner shop.’ She hung up and looked at her bedside clock. Mike was home safe. He’d made it. She closed her eyes, wondering if they all would. Any moment she knew the scream would go up and she would bet any of the cash they’d got stashed away that the manor would be one of the first places they started at. ‘Well, let them come,’ she whispered to herself. We’re ready and waiting.’
Chapter 20
Angela, as instructed by Dolly, had caught the first train back to the manor. She had not used the local station but the mainline station, again as instructed by Dolly, who didn’t want Angela getting off the train into a swarm of cops. She simply used the excuse that, as it would be so early, Angela wouldn’t be able to get a cab at the local station so it was better to use the mainline one.
Angela arrived back at the manor at eight o’clock. The girls were about to run upstairs but she told them to stay quiet and not to wake up the house. She set about preparing breakfast, the girls laying the table and helping her.
Angela hadn’t known any of the women to sleep in so late and she asked one of the girls to check if Helen of Troy was in the stable, wondering if they had all gone out for an early ride. The girls remained outside, calling back that Helen was in the stable. Angela fried eggs and bacon, sausages and some cold potatoes. It was all keeping warm in the oven when the women came down, bleary-eyed and still wearing their dressing gowns.
‘Hi! Had a late night, did you?’ Angela asked, as she started getting out the plates.
‘Yeah, we had a bit of a night,’ Gloria muttered.
‘Aren’t you going riding today?’ Angela asked. It was unusual for them not to be up and out by now.
‘No. Stables have got some kids’ party so we can’t,’ Ester said as she creaked into her chair.
‘There was something going on at the station,’ Angela said as she served the eggs and bacon.
‘Oh, yeah, what?’ Gloria asked, as she poured the tea.
‘I dunno, but there were loads of police and all along the lanes were more patrol cars. They even stopped us in the taxi.’
‘You don’t say,’ said Julia, as she buttered her toast, and then asked casually if the morning paper had arrived.
She passed it over. �
��It’s got nothing in it.’
Dolly walked in, her hair in pin curls. Unlike the others she was dressed. ‘Angela love, go and get the girls inside. They’re getting filthy out there in the yard.’
Angela went out without argument and Dolly sat down. She reached for the teapot, was just about to pour a cup when the sirens wailed. ‘Well, here they come,’ she said quietly.
They all watched her as she continued to pour the tea. The front door bell echoed through the house, and Angela opened the back door. ‘There’s police all over the place! They’re up in the woods.’
Dolly looked at Ester, jerking her head. ‘Go see what they want.’
Ester hesitated only a moment before she pulled her dressing gown closer and they could hear her flip-flop slippers as she went into the hall.
The police were searching every house within a five-mile radius of the station and that included every outhouse, stable and barn, every greenhouse. Every standing building was being searched from top to bottom, and the Thames Valley police pulled in every man possible to sweep the area. Scotland Yard’s Robbery Squad were already at the scene of the raid as hundreds more officers were drafted in to the immediate area to assist in the search. No vehicle had been found, no witness; the raid appeared to have happened without a single person seeing it.
The police interviewed the women and they all stated they were at home together the entire evening, went to bed at around eleven fifteen. They had heard nothing and kept up a bewildered act that might have been up for an Oscar, as they asked what had happened. A murder? A rape? A kidnapping? But they were told nothing as the uniformed officers began the search outside. They searched every cupboard, every chest and wardrobe, the roof, the chimneys, under the floorboards, the sauna area. The police were polite, diligent and stayed there for almost eight hours until they had to move on. They found nothing.
By lunchtime the press had arrived and now it was headlines in the evening papers: the biggest train robbery in history had taken place and Thames Valley were using more than four hundred officers to comb the entire area. By now the police knew that a man masquerading as a police officer had daringly held up the train, and the robbery had been committed by possibly five or six men. They had been armed, and the public were warned that if they should have any evidence or suspect anyone, they were to act with caution as the men were deemed to be dangerous. The owner of the speedboat had been arrested but released after questioning. The signal box attendant, Jim, had also been questioned and released as the police drew up the lists of suspects. They had, as yet, found no evidence, and had no clues as to the present whereabouts of the stolen money. The amount was not disclosed.
She's Out Page 40
