The Further Adventures of Aardvark Jenkins

by Laszlo Thribb

stairs.

  "No! Up here." Thomas back into the first office.

  Henrietta ran after him, then down the stairs, then up again.

  "Tee!" she called in a stage whisper. "They must be going to the offices. They wouldn't be running the factory at night. Quick, downstairs."

  He came shooting out of the office and grabbed her arm, dragging her down the stairs three at a time. They galloped across the floor towards the ladies. Straight into Richard who was heading back towards them. They collapsed in a heap. From the main door came the sound of a key turning in a lock.

  The trio looked desperately about them. "In the toilet."

  "Behind the fork lift."

  "Back up the stairs."

  "No time!"

  Now they could hear voices and footsteps. The overhead lights came on.

  "Under here!" Richard grabbed the other two by the arms and dragged them underneath the bed of a giant circular saw.

  They pressed back against the huge blade as two pairs of trouser legs passed close by. The legs disappeared towards the back of the factory.

  "Phew! That was close!" whispered Henrietta.

  Then one pair of legs returned. And stopped, near enough to reach out and touch.

  Thomas, Richard and Henrietta stuffed their hands in their mouths to stop themselves crying out. Their eyes widened with fear. Henrietta couldn't imagine why the stranger couldn't hear her heart beating. To her it seemed louder than a jumbo jet.

  "Will this one do?" The owner of the legs called.

  "Looks good. Big enough for you?"

  "Nice, nice. Just right."

  "Help yourself," the second voice offered.

  The trousers came right up to the saw bench.

  Time seemed to slow down all of a sudden. Thomas looked at the saw blade. It glinted, wickedly. He'd seen it ripping through great logs of wood. Now all three of them were packed hard against it. If it turned they'd be cut to ribbons...

  And if they moved away, they'd be grabbed. Thomas had no illusions about what a gang of armed robbers would do to three spies.

  The trouser owner's hand reached out towards the big switch by Thomas's shoulder. It reached for the big recessed red button. The button that would spin the murderous blade into action.

  Henrietta opened her mouth to scream.

  1.Chapter Nine

  BANG!!! Clunk clang clang CLANG!!!

  "What was that!?" The hand moved away.

  The trousers followed. Two pairs of footsteps receded towards the source of the sudden noise.

  "Out! Quick!" Richard rolled away from the threat of the saw blade.

  They shot out from under the saw bed and behind the safer prospect of a forklift truck.

  "False alarm," they heard a voice call. "Strange, though. There was a pile of old cans outside, and now they're all over the place. When I went round there some dog started barking at me. Didn't know we had a guard dog!"

  Henrietta grabbed Richard's arm. "Good old Simpson!" she breathed.

  Then the footsteps came closer again and the power saw was switched on.

  Henrietta shivered. For the next few minutes all the trio could hear was the howl of the blade biting into wood. They shivered as they listened.

  The saw whined down to a halt, and there was a lot of banging and cursing from the invisible men. Richard risked a quick look round the side of the big red forklift truck.

  "Can't see much," he whispered. "They've got their backs to me and they're doing something on a bench."

  Eventually the banging ceased, then the main lights went out. Footsteps tramped away and up the steps, and one of the office doors slammed.

  "Phew! That was close!" Henrietta stood up slowly. "If we hadn't brought Simpson along, it might have been us getting sliced in two!"

  Richard didn't waste any time imagining bisection. He ran to the corridor between the machines and looked up at the one lighted window. "They're up there. Let's phone the police." He made for the reception area.

  Thomas held him back. "Hang on," he whispered. "Let's not rush into anything. We broke in - we're here illegally remember. And if you lift up a phone there how do you know it isn't an extension of one upstairs. I don't want to be sliced up like a load of plywood."

  Henrietta was in agreement. "The police wouldn't believe us anyway. What we need is evidence."

  Richard looked thoughtful. "Yeah, okay. We'd better see where they went. Come on."

  They tiptoed up the stairs. Low voices came from the first office on the right. Thomas motioned them into the one next to it. They followed him in and closed the door quietly.

  The voices were a little louder in here, but still muffled.

  They pressed their ears to the wall in an effort to make out what was being said, but to no avail.

  They looked around for something to help. Henrietta shone her torch on a complicated looking device she was hoping was an intercom, but it was just a fax machine.

  Richard pointed at the ceiling. "Hey, Tee," he breathed. "Give me a hand."

  He picked up a chair and put it carefully on top of one of the desks, making sure he was silent about it. Then he climbed up on the desk, onto the chair and pushed at one of the ceiling tiles. It didn't move. He pushed harder. The tile screeched against the metal supports and Richard let go quickly. It dropped back into place with a heavy clunk.

  The three froze. The mumbled voices from next door ceased. Henrietta squeezed her eyes shut, emulating an ostrich.

  Then the voices began again. The silence had only lasted five seconds or so but it seemed like hours to the terrified three.

  But terrified or not, they were determined to press on. Richard put his hands to the tile again and looked at the other two.

  "Careful!" Thomas mouthed in the gloom.

  Richard pushed at one side of the tile and it slid slowly and silently upwards. He eased it sideways and gently lowered it on top of the next one. He grimaced at Henrietta and Thomas, then put one hand either side of the hole and leaned some of his weight on the supports.

  The thin aluminium bent alarmingly. He made a wry face, eased the tile back in place and climbed back down. "Too flimsy," he whispered.

  Henrietta carefully lifted the chair down and put it back under the desk.

  The children stood in the alien room, their hearts beating like kettle drums.

  Thomas looked around the room, then picked up a glass from a tray. He sniffed it, then wiped it on his grubby T-shirt.

  "Don't know if this works, but I've seen it in films." He held the glass to the wall and pressed his ear against the glass.

  "Nothing! Stupid films."

  Henrietta took the glass from him and reversed it so the open end was against the wall. She leant her ear against it and smiled superciliously at Thomas. Then her eyes opened wide.

  "Thirty million!" she hissed. "Thirty million dollars!"

  The others pressed close. "What? What's happening?"

  She shushed them madly. "Can't hear them very well. I think one of them's on the phone. Hey! Something about bigger lorries."

  There was a long pause.

  "They're muttering now."

  "Hey!" Thomas pointed to the glass. "If this is their tea room they might come in at any moment."

  "You're right," whispered Richard. He moved to the door and opened it. "We'd better get -"

  The door to the next office opened. The three froze. Their brains told their legs to move, to get them under the desk or behind the filing cabinet pretty smartish, but the legs refused to obey orders. The trio just stood there in full view of anyone passing the door.

  But the men didn't bother looking into a dark empty office. They headed straight down the st

  Richard was the first to come out of suspended animation. He reached the top of the stairs as the men passed the big circular saw.

  "Right," he heard the smaller one say. "You reckon one more run will be enough?"

  The other one held up the sinister looking
bundle he was carrying. "This should do the trick. Then if the timings are okay tomorrow, we'll be ready for Friday."

  The three looked at each other in the dim light. It wasn't a robbery that Henrietta had seen. It was a rehearsal for a robbery!

  1.Chapter Ten

  The three stared at each other, open-mouthed.

  "Thirty million!" gasped Richard. "Thirty million!"

  Thomas came to life. "But where? When? Which van?"

  Henrietta moved over to the office the men had been in. "'Production coordinator'," she read.

  Idly she turned the handle. This time the door swung open.

  The trio pressed inside eagerly. It looked like any other ordinary office, maybe a bit scruffier than most.

  "Clever," said Thomas. "The best way to hide something - leave it lying about, then nobody believes it's worth a second glance." He shone his torch on some papers on the desk. Henrietta peered over his shoulder.

  "Quick!" Richard hissed. "They're coming back!"

  He quietly closed the door and dashed for the cover of the desks. In the dark he stubbed his toe, and had to fight to stifle his groans.

  Footsteps clattered up the stairs. It was almost too much for Henrietta. She wanted to scream, but pressed under one of the desks with the two boys.

  The footsteps came on down the corridor to the office. All three children were trembling and sweating now. They held their breath, crossed their fingers and squeezed their eyes shut. The door opened. But instead of the light coming on, the door banged shut again and there was the sound of a key turning in the lock.

  The footsteps retreated down the corridor, and in a few moments the sound of the main door slamming came faintly to their ears.

  "We're trapped!" Henrietta's voice