CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
"I'm sorry," said Winner. "I'm just not an expert at breaking into other people's houses."
They were on the floor in his living room with a large scale map in front of them, which was prevented from rolling up by the bottles and wine glasses that stood on the four corners. It was eight o'clock on Sunday evening and they were well into the second bottle of peppery Cotes du Rhone. Sally's eyes strayed to the solitary cube of bitter dark Bournville chocolate that nestled in the remains of its wrapper.
"There must be a way," she said. "We just have to look at it logically."
"OK then. He lives in a substantial building protected by unknown security systems, surrounded by a high wall with intruder detection wires running round. There's at least one, if not more television cameras. The ground between the house and the wall is patrolled at night by a pack of vicious dogs. That's a pretty simple starting point."
"We could knock out the dogs by chucking in some meat laced with sleeping pills."
"That's the first decent idea so far. Suppose we do get into the house. Where will he keep the cash. Safe-breaking's not my forte."
"I've been thinking about that. He'd have to have quite a big safe if he's going to have as much cash as we hope. Banknotes take up quite a lot of room, so he's probably going to rely on the house security for protection."
"All right. We get over the perimeter alarms by straddling the hedge with some sort of ladder, maybe by parking a tall van close up to the wall, then we drug the dogs and head for the house. What then?"
"There are some staff," she reminded him, "which is good and bad. Good, because it means the main house alarms won't be switched on, but bad because it means we have to deal with them."
"You're starting to sound like a gangster. How do you suggest we deal with them?"
"We need to keep watch to find out who they are and how many of them before we can work that one out."
"Not another night out in the freezing cold. I wish Cavendish had done all this in the summer."
"It's my turn," said Sally. "All you have to do is drop me off and pick me up later. It wouldn't be safe to park the car anywhere near his house."
"Where would you watch from?"
"The houses opposite only have low walls, with plenty of shrubbery I could hide in."
"I don't like to think of you stuck out there in the cold."
"The cold's really the only problem. I wouldn't be in any danger if I kept my distance and just watched."
"I suppose it would be useful to learn anything we can."
"Exactly. I'll go on Tuesday."
Sally reached out for the last cube of chocolate. Anyone who was prepared to stake out the enemy camp in icy weather deserved a cube of chocolate.
"We'd better go shopping and get some black clothes for the big night," she suggested. "We can throw them all away afterwards. I've booked a full week's holiday to get ready and recover. You'd better do the same."
"Won't that make people suspicious?"
"Suspicious of what? If we read the situation properly, there won't be any fuss at all if the cash is stolen. Not with the police, anyway. The other Council staff will probably assume we've booked up somewhere for a long dirty weekend."
Sally ran her finger round the rim of her now empty wine glass, briefly achieving a pure ringing tone. "What about these staff that you think Cavendish has?"
"That's what you'll be watching for. We don't know whether the people sent by Cavendish to burgle or fix car accidents are actually what you might call personal servants, based at his house."
"That's not very likely. He probably has something like a resident housekeeper and a daily gardener/handyman. Is there a Mrs Cavendish?"
"No. I asked Westerman a few days ago, when I saw him before the Planning Committee. He said that Cavendish's wife had died from cancer a few years ago."
Sally poured out some more wine. "What concerns me," she said, "is what we might do to get the staff out of the way while we plunder the house. It's one thing to attack a burglar you catch in your own house, but I wouldn't want to harm his staff if they're completely innocent."
"No, that would make us as bad as him. Any ideas?"
"I don't know. Perhaps some diversionary tactics to draw them away from the house?"
"There's plenty to think about. This map's not much help. It shows us where the house is on the plot, but that's about all."
Winner, who had for some time been lying on his back, now struggled into a more upright position. "Aerial photos," he said. "You remember all the pictures for the superstore? I'm sure the Planners will have a set. I could borrow them and get some blow-ups of River Heights."
"Do you think they'd be clear enough?"
"They were incredibly sharp. You could easily see parked cars, probably much more with a magnifying glass. We'd get a much better idea of what lay behind the hedges at Cedar Park."
Two days later at half past six in the evening, Sally was concealed among the bushes on the far side of the road from Cedar Park. Winner had parked much further down the estate and walked up with her. The first time they had approached the watching point there had been a man out walking his dog and they had been forced to walk on past and come back after a few minutes. They weren't sure of the capabilities of the security cameras, so Sally had walked on Winner's blind side and slipped into the opposite entrance as they walked past. Now Winner was safe and warm at home while she was out in the cold.
After Winner's experience in the marina, Sally was taking no chances. Not only was she wearing so many layers of clothing that she could hardly bend at the knees and elbows, she had also brought along a sheet of plastic to sit on and a dark old blanket to keep the wind off and pull over her face if anyone got close. Her shopping bag was equipped with a flask of coffee, but she was going to leave that for a while. The pressure on her bladder from the cold night air would be quite enough on its own.
The sound of footsteps came soon after she was settled and she adjusted the blanket so that she was peering out of a small opening. A few moments later there was the rattle of a chain as a passing dog walker pulled his animal to heel. The dog growled, and Sally was glad of the low wall which would stop it from trying to pull its owner into the shrubbery. The footsteps receded into the distance and she raised herself up a bit to get a better view of the entrance to Cedar Park. The gates were closed, presenting a solid blank face to the world. A small light glowed on one of the gate pillars where there was a bell push or intercom. Apart from the rustling noise of the breeze through the trees and the occasional sound of a distant vehicle, it was deadly quiet.
After half an hour, Sally was beginning to wonder whether she was going to spend the whole of the evening staring at the un-moving gates. A pity she hadn't brought her Walkman to listen to. The sound of a car engine climbing the approach road brought her out of her dreams. There were very few houses on the upper loop of Waterview Drive, so there was a good chance that the car would be heading for Cedar Park. She saw the headlights wash over the far hedge and wall as the car pulled out of the junction at the top of the hill. Moments later the car drew level and turned in towards the gates. It was a large dark Mercedes and Sally softly spoke the registration number into the pocket memo recorder that Winner had lent her. The driver didn't get out, but the gates started to open, presumably activated by a remote controller in the car. There was some wild barking, but no sight of any dogs. A floodlight went on, revealing a sort of entrance courtyard and the main front door of the house. There was a Range Rover and a couple of smaller cars just visible at one side. As she watched, she described everything she could see into the recorder. The gates stayed open for a few seconds more, then started to close, just as the driver got out. For a brief moment the familiar figure of Cavendish was visible, but the gates soon swept together, restoring the blank facade. Sally squinted at her wristwatch in the gloom and noted down the time on the recorder.
The dogs coul
d be heard for a few minutes more, but then the silence returned. Sally wriggled about in the blanket to try and get comfortable. Despite all her clothes, the cold was starting to seep in. Ten minutes later there was a false alarm as a car went by to another house. She fished about in her bag and found the emergency bar of chocolate. Just before eight another car arrived and parked in the road just along from the gates. A middle aged man got out and walked to the gate pillar. He went up to the glowing entry control and spoke into it. Before long the gates were open again and the man walked in, heading not for the front door, but away towards the back of the house. He was out of sight for a full five seconds before the gates closed again. Sally wondered if he might have been the night watchman.
Ten minutes later the gates opened and a Ford Fiesta drove out. Temporarily dazzled by the courtyard floodlighting, it was hard for Sally to get a proper look at the driver, though she was fairly confident that it was a woman. Again the gates lingered for a few seconds before closing.
By ten o'clock Sally was frozen and she got out her vacuum flask. Winner was due to pick her up at eleven. The coffee might just give her enough warmth to see her on until then.
At first just a faint hum in the distance, the drone of a car engine grew louder, but then softer as it turned right to go round the loop in an anti-clockwise direction. Three or four minutes later it appeared after completing the near full circle, and Sally could see the police sign on the roof. Clearly the notable citizens who occupied River Heights qualified for at least an occasional inspection. No doubt they had put some pressure on the police after the recent series of break-ins.
Just one more late night dog walker and that was it. By the time Winner came to collect her, Sally was waiting at the entrance opposite Cedar Park with her blanket and flask tucked back in the shopping bag. This time he drove round the loop and as he passed the entrance she jogged out in the shadow of the car and he stopped thirty yards along for her to get in.
"Any luck?" he asked her, as they drove away.
"A bit, not much. It looked as though a night employee arrived about eight to relieve someone else. Cavendish arrived about seven then stayed in. I don't think the dogs can get into the courtyard inside the gates."
"Did it give you any ideas?"
"The gates are fairly slow. It might be possible to sneak in or out without anyone noticing, but I'm not sure how far that would get you."
"What about the camera."
"They can't be watching it all the time. I think it's probably just for taking a look at visitors before they open the gates. If someone nipped in behind a car, crouched down low in dark clothing, it's most unlikely they'd be seen."
"I should have the copies of the aerial photos from the planners tomorrow. I was ready with a good story as to why I wanted them, but in the event they didn't seem very interested. Apparently staff are always asking for them to get an interesting view of their houses. They just look on it as a useful way of recouping some of their costs. They must think I have a relative who lives up in River Heights."
"Let's hope it gives us some inspiration. I'm not at all confident that I know how we're going to pull this off. It's a pity we don't know any professional burglars who could give us a few hints."
"I'm starting to fit a plan together," said Winner, as they pulled back onto the main road. "I'll try to work out the details and we can go over it again later in the week."
The Borough Page 32
