by Ted Tayler
“The sooner Olympus acts, the better,” said Phoenix.
“I talked with Zeus last night,” cautioned Athena, “he’s still wary of attacking the Grid at present. Organised crime and terrorism are under the media microscope in Britain. All eyes are on how the authorities react to their goading. If we carry out unilateral strikes, the public might welcome them, but Olympus runs a terrible risk of exposure.”
“The authorities would take the credit to pacify the media, and once the circus has left town, they would turn their attention to finding us,” said Phoenix,
“That’s what Zeus said,” said Athena.
“I can’t wait to get away this weekend,” said Phoenix, “it will give us a chance to relax. Next week, we can start again. Giles may bring us a ray of hope.”
“We can only pray, and now, I want to see Daddy,” said Athena, collecting their lunch things together and taking them through to the kitchen. When she returned, Phoenix was carrying Hope on his shoulders.
“Come on,” he said, “let’s visit Geoffrey.”
When her father answered the door, a beaming smile greeted them.
“Good news, darling,” he said, “the purchase has gone through. I can move in on Monday the twenty-fourth of next month. I should be in my little Burnham bungalow for Christmas.”
“Terrific,” said Athena, “we hope you’ll still come here for Christmas dinner? Hope would love to see you on Christmas morning.”
“I’ll accept that invitation if you agree to come over on Boxing Day,” said Geoffrey.
“No problem, Geoffrey,” said Phoenix, “now, will you be ready to set off for Lymington by five o’clock tonight?”
“I’ve packed my bag already, Phoenix,” Geoffrey replied, “I’m looking forward to the experience.”
“Erebus and Elizabeth are always with us in spirit when we go aboard his yacht,” said Phoenix. “The old man’s presence often helps me solve problems when we visit her at the mooring.”
“I can’t envisage too many problems with the charity business, Phoenix,” said Geoffrey, with a twinkle in his eye.
“You would be surprised,” said Athena, “we’ll give you a knock when we’re on our way to the car.”
With that, they left Geoffrey alone and returned to the apartment. It was time to pack those bags and find the toys Hope had to take with them wherever they went.
*****
Tyrone O’Riordan had invited his mother, Colleen to tea. She accepted at once. It was apparent her son either wanted something or had a present for her. He was so like his late father. As she walked to the lift to his penthouse apartment, a man appeared at her shoulder.
“You must be Mrs O’Riordan,” he said, “I’m here to see Tyrone. I’ll ride with you if that’s okay?”
Colleen was nervous, but she knew the cameras in the foyer would alert Tyrone to the intrusion. She stood her ground.
“That accent’s not from around here,” she said, moving her position, so the man now faced the camera over the lift door.
“Tirana,” said Aleks Bogdani, “Tyrone’s expecting me.”
The lift door opened. A green light on the display panel told Colleen her boy was happy to receive this Albanian visitor. The lift ascended silently. Colleen studied the younger man in the mirrored wall. He was perhaps twenty years younger than her, and not bad-looking. The white t-shirt and black slacks covered a toned body. He saw her looking at his biceps.
“You like, Mrs O’Riordan?” asked Aleks.
“Now and then,” Colleen replied. She had recovered her composure.
Before the conversation could go any further, the lift heralded its arrival at the penthouse with a loud ping.
“Come on in, you two,” said Tyrone, “you gave my mother a fright, Aleks,”
“That was not my intention,” he said.
“You had a successful trip to Amsterdam, I hear?”
Aleks gave Tyrone receipts for the sales of the gold and gems from a London dealer. He also produced a receipt for the diamonds from the Amsterdam firm.
“Four and a half for the gold and gems,” said Tyrone, “and twenty-nine and a half for the diamonds. Wow, that makes forty-two and a half million overall. I told you we would make a killing mother.”
“Is that all?” asked Colleen.
“What? That’s not enough for you?” asked Tyrone.
“How do we know this Aleks hasn’t cheated us?”
“I know what the penalty is for that, Mrs O’Riordan,” said Aleks.
“I love your plans for the bank job, Aleks,” said Tyrone, “when will you be ready to go ahead?”
“We should let the heat cool down,” said Aleks, “the police have made no headway on the jewellery robbery, but there’s no rush.”
“No rush?” exclaimed Colleen, “we’ll decide whether there’s a rush or not. Not you, you’re just the hired help. We want this country on its knees, begging for someone to save it from the big, bad criminals. Tough shit, there is no one. They’ll do as we wish. The authorities are like a punch-drunk boxer on the canvas for an eight count. I want the bank job done before they have time for their heads to clear. A further sixty million pounds will be the knockout blow. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Mrs O’Riordan,” said Aleks.
“I thought you two were getting on so well in the lift,” said Tyrone, trying to ease the tension.
Aleks saw that the table laid for an English afternoon tea. He needed a stiff drink. It was time to leave.
“I need to arrange the next stage of the job,” he said, edging towards the lift, “it was good to meet you, Mrs O’Riordan.”
“Thanks, Aleks,” said Tyrone, following him across the room, “don’t take offence. My mother can be a firebrand at times. She wants everything, and she wants it now. You’ve delivered more than you promised. The Grid has no complaints. Let me know when you’re ready to talk through the final plans.”
As they stood by the door together, Tyrone whispered: -
“I’ll make sure she’s not here when you come up for that meeting, don’t worry.”
Aleks travelled back to the ground floor. He was happier being alone on this trip. Aleks breathed a huge sigh of relief. Neither Tyrone nor his mother was aware of the six and a half million pounds he had made on the diamonds he had kept back for him and the others. When they added in euros he hadn’t paid into the Glencairn Bank; they had relieved the Hatton Garden company of fifty-two million.
If the bank job only nudged the sixty million he forecasted, it was a retirement fund to savour. Phase one was complete. They were still unscathed. One last assignment, and then they could enjoy the rest of their lives in luxury.
What could go wrong?
CHAPTER 12
At five o’clock, Artemis and Rusty came downstairs. In the hallway, they met Phoenix.
“Ready to go?” he asked, “the others have piled into the car. I think there will be enough room for me. The car I booked for you two is outside with the keys in the ignition.”
“Did you get enough volunteers for a crew?” asked Artemis.
“Henry didn’t even need to twist anyone’s arm,” said Phoenix, “everyone loves a weekend away.”
The people carrier with the crew had already left. Their orders were to get the yacht ready to tackle the Solent in the morning. Phoenix, Athena, and their entourage would arrive in Lymington at seven. She booked tables at a bar and bistro at the marina for an evening meal. It had great sea views and was as pleasant a place as any to spend a Friday evening.
Hope stayed awake later than usual. She was sensible, like her grandfather, and had a snooze on the drive from Bath. When they climbed aboard ‘Elizabeth’ at ten o’clock, everyone was ready for bed. The crew had worked their magic. The yacht was spotless, and as he settled for the night, Phoenix reckoned Erebus would have approved.
Saturday, 18th October 2014
They awoke to a breezy day with the threat of scattered showers. Phoenix and At
hena had no trouble getting Hope to eat her breakfast. Friends and family surrounded her.
Their daughter was in her element; others seemed less keen on eating so early.
“Don’t tell me you’re no sailor, Geoffrey,” said Phoenix. “I heard rumours you lived on luxury yachts every day when you and Grace mixed with the rich and famous in Monaco.”
“I think you’ll find the rich and famous mixed with us, Phoenix,” he said, “no, I’ll wait until later. The sea air makes me hungry. Brunch will suit me better.”
“Sounds good,” said Rusty, “after that meal last night, I couldn’t eat again before eleven.”
“What’s the plan for today?” asked Artemis.
“We’ll take the journey in bite-size pieces,” said Phoenix, “I discussed it with Adam, our senior steward. He’s the man with experience in these waters. If we raced out from Lymington to circumnavigate the island and get home again, we could do it inside twelve hours with ease. We’ll cross to Cowes and then travel through the Hurst Castle narrows where the tide races and see the multi-coloured sand cliffs of Alum Bay.”
“If Captain Birdseye has quite finished, we should let Adam get us underway,” said Athena. “He’s better equipped to tell you where we’re heading and point out the sights.”
The elegant ‘Elizabeth’ soon eased her way into the Solent. Adam and his crew made the trip as comfortable as possible for their passengers. The morning slipped past and brunch was upon them before they knew it. Rusty and Artemis tucked in along with the others. They would soon be in Cowes, and two hours ashore visiting the shops and an old pub would set them up for the next leg of the journey.
In mid-afternoon, they set off again. In time the yacht passed by the famous Needles Lighthouse where strong cross tides and underwater obstacles proved dangerous to the unwary sailor. They negotiated Goose Rock with ease and sailed south to St Catherine’s Point.
“We’ll stop at Sandown for a meal on the way back,” Adam told them, as they gathered around to watch him handling the beautiful craft. “as soon as we round this point, we’re in the Channel proper. You get bigger waves and a steady breeze on the south side of the island. Finding the least tide against you and the most wind can be a challenge.”
Phoenix, Athena, and Hope loved the experience. Athena noticed that her father had his quieter moments when she imagined he thought of Grace. But he kept Hope amused and chatted with the crew, so she didn’t believe that she needed to worry too much.
Phoenix watched as Rusty and Artemis sat close together, none the worse for the sea trip. It seemed they had their sea legs after all, but the opportunity to be alone with their thoughts didn’t come around that often at Larcombe. They were like ships, he thought, but somehow today the rest of that saying sounded daft.
The evening meal in Sandown was excellent, the atmosphere pleasant. The crew ate aboard ‘Elizabeth’, but Adam came ashore to remind Phoenix they needed to be on the move, so as not to miss the tide. As Cowes disappeared behind them to the southwest and they cruised onward to their haven at Lymington, there were several weary travellers.
Sleep was not long coming for everyone. Tomorrow was another day.
Sunday, 19th October 2014
There were no sea journeys today, just a long lie-in and a late breakfast. There was plenty to see in and around Lymington. Geoffrey remembered a village pub he and Grace had visited twenty years ago. Somehow, it had survived the cull of inns and public houses since the turn of the century and was not only open; but thriving. The old-world charm of the wooden beams hung with horse brasses was a delightful background to the excellent menu.
The party of six climbed aboard ‘Elizabeth’ to spend the late afternoon and early evening relaxing in the main cabin. Hope played with her toys. Geoffrey chatted with his daughter about the few changes he planned to the layout in his bungalow. Phoenix sat and did what he always did. Phoenix thought about the next mission. Where had Rusty got to, he wondered? He and Artemis had disappeared thirty minutes ago, without a word. Everyone below seemed occupied, so he went up on deck.
Rusty had dropped something. Why else would he be on one knee?
As he turned to go below, Athena joined him.
“Daddy’s looking after Hope. What’s so interesting up here?”
“I went looking for Rusty. I had hoped to get five minutes of his time.”
Artemis and Rusty came towards them. Artemis looked flushed, Athena thought she had wiped a tear from her eye.
“What a lovely evening,” said Athena. It wasn’t, particularly, the clouds were building, and the breeze blew another shower in from the west.
“There is something about this yacht,” said Artemis, “I felt it as soon as we came on board.”
“It’s Erebus,” said Athena, “his love for his beloved Elizabeth is everywhere. It can be intoxicating.”
Rusty shuffled from foot to foot.
“What’s up?” asked Phoenix, “was it those scallops?”
“Nothing like that,” said Rusty, “as Artemis says, it’s this yacht. Spending a weekend with you and your family made us realise we’re missing out on so much. This trip has been the first time since Artemis joined Olympus that we’ve shared special moments. I suggested we got married. Artemis suggested I ask her properly, so I did. She said yes.”
Athena squealed with delight and hugged her friend. Rusty shook Phoenix by the hand.
“I’m so pleased for you both,” said Athena, “we knew it would happen one day. We’re happy this weekend helped you find the right time.
“Remind me to get that little church spruced up,” said Phoenix, “it’s going to get more use in the next year than for a century.”
“We don’t want to wait until next year,” said Artemis, “we’ve been living together long enough. The sooner we can arrange a wedding, the better.”
“Let me add, there’s no indecent rush,” said Rusty. “Artemis has to arrange to get her parents here from Durham. They’re not as mobile these days. As for me, you know my family situation. Apart from the crowd at Larcombe Manor, there won’t be any others I need to invite.”
“The important people will be there,” said Artemis. “It’s out of the question to invite any police colleagues I once had.”
“Especially Orion and his family,” muttered Phoenix.
“Did you meet Erica, his wife?” asked Artemis, whose hearing was razor-sharp.
“I couldn’t comment,” replied Phoenix.
Phoenix wasn’t keen on Athena learning he had once bathed the wounds of a semi-naked Erica in a house not far from Larcombe. It was in a former life. In the past was where it belonged.
“I think we should celebrate with a drink,” said Phoenix.
“Not so fast,” said Athena, “you and Rusty have to drive back tonight. I propose we pack up now and get on the road. Adam and the crew have done such a grand job; they can stay and have a few beers tonight. I’ll clear things with their superiors in the morning. Tell Adam they needn’t report back until lunchtime.”
“Should we ring ahead and ask for the champagne to be put on ice?” asked Phoenix.
“What a great idea, mate,” said Rusty, “just this once, you know me, I’d be happy with a can of lager.”
*****
Simon Gonzalez travelled to Bath by train from London Waterloo. He arrived in the Roman city at three o’clock in the afternoon, around the time that Phoenix, Athena and the others chose their desserts in the New Forest.
The sights of the city didn’t interest Gonzo. His presence had a more sinister motive. Tyrone O’Riordan wanted to know everything that happened at Larcombe Manor. Once Colleen made the connection between the characters at a posh wedding party and the charitable organisation, he had contacted him. Last Sunday morning he was asked to track a dark van back to its base.
Gonzo wanted to tell Tyrone he was looking for a needle in a haystack. If these men drove a distinctive vehicle, it could have saved him hours of work. On Friday, h
e isolated the only dark van to reach the relevant part of Bath on the night in question. As he ploughed through hour after hour of CCTV film from the M4, he learned one fascinating statistic. Forty per cent of the four million vans on UK roads were black or blue.
Gonzo wasn’t used to so much fresh air. His life centred on a screen a few feet in front of him in a darkened room. He had found the van and established the link between the citizens’ arrest of the moped gang and the Bath charity. That was usually enough for most people who employed him. Tyrone was different. He wanted Gonzo to put names to the two men in the photograph. Find out the numbers of employees at the Manor. How many patients they treated if that’s what they did. How much activity was visible from the air?
Tyrone didn’t take no for an answer. Gonzo wanted to keep breathing, so he had taken the train for the first time since he left school. The pedestrianised streets near the centre of Bath thronged with people. Half of which walked somewhere at speed, while the other half idled, or stopped without reason. For someone unused to being outside, it was a nightmare.
Gonzo checked the directions to Larcombe Manor on his phone. A physical street-map wasn’t something he’d ever buy. Simon saw plenty in the hands of foreigners surrounding him. They were the ones most likely to stop dead in the middle of the street.
The Georgian estate was too far out for Simon Gonzalez to walk. He checked for a bus service that would get him close. There was nothing. The bus offered anonymity. He wanted to avoid a taxi, whatever happened. Taxi drivers had a habit of remembering lone strangers heading for rare destinations. Larcombe Manor wasn’t on every tourist’s radar, nor would locals be encouraged to wander into its grounds when they pleased.
Salvation lay just around the corner. Well, it was a Sunday. Nextbike had made it to Bath. He would cycle to the city outskirts and take as many photos of the buildings as possible. Then he planned to make good use of the drone in his backpack to overfly the whole estate.
