Tiger at Bay Page 15

  ‘Is he all right?’ demanded Ismail, peering through the back window of the car.

  Archie leaned over the seat and looked down to where Iago Price lay trussed and taped like a turkey. ‘Seems OK – still breathing. At least, his eyes are still rolling around,’ he remarked callously.

  ‘Better get him out and dump him in the office – put those two other characters in there with him.’

  They collected the three bound figures and lay them on the floor of the caretakers’ cubicle.

  ‘Right, they can’t come to any harm there,’ snapped Tiger. ‘Let’s get on with the job.’

  Outside, he whispered to Betty, ‘Keep an eye on those fellers through the crack in the door. You needn’t let them see you, but if they try to get loose or get to that alarm button, go in there and kick them around a bit … OK?’

  Tiger and the Greek made for the Accounts office, which was on the second floor, while Archie and Joe Davies started on the Jewellery department. They had to burst open the shuttering first, using a mixed collection of housebreaking tools brought from the car.

  Upstairs, Nikos Kalvos was scratching his head over the safe. ‘I don’t know if I can tickle it open, Tiger … I’ll give it a few goes, then I’ll have to blast it.’ Tiger scowled at him. “You’re always yakking about what a marvellous bloody cracksman you were back in Greece … so get on and prove it! I’ll give you half an hour, then we use the “jelly”.’

  After fifteen minutes Nikos was sweating like a pig, but still fiddling with the combination lock without success. All he had managed to do was to put the alarm system out of action, but was no further forward towards getting the door open.

  Joe came up from the ground floor to interrupt Ismail’s rising impatience.

  ‘We’ve busted the door and carried some of the silver and good-looking stuff to the car, but we’ll need Nikos to open the safe. It’s only a glorified tin box, but that’s where the best stuff will be.’

  Tiger looked angrily at his watch. ‘Ten minutes – then he’ll come down and open it for you … if he can, which I doubt! After that, we blow this thing and to hell with the noise.’

  He kicked the big safe viciously, showing a rare display of feeling. Joe went away and left a perspiring Nikos to carry on with his stethoscope and fingertips.

  He was destined never to see the inside of that particular safe.

  Meredith dreamed that he was back in the Army, a provost-sergeant crouched in a shelled-out building on the wrong side of the Rhine. A shell came whistling down at him and as it got nearer, the whine changed into a frightening clamour.

  He groped his way out of the dream to find his bedside telephone ringing. His wife, immunized by years of bells ringing in the night, slept on undisturbed as he mumbled groggily into the instrument.

  ‘Ellis here, sir …. can you come in at once. I think we’ve got ’em!’ His voice was alert and bursting with delight. Some of it rubbed off on to Meredith as he shook off the last mists of sleep.

  ‘What’s up? Where are you?’

  ‘Headquarters … I was already here questioning a couple of thieves we caught red-handed in the Co-op. But that can wait! A minute ago we had a call from a nightwatchman in an office block that faces the back entrance of David Powell’s department store in Castle Street. He was looking out of a window and saw a car going into Powell’s loading bay. A chap was directing it in, looked a bit fishy, so he made a nine-nine-nine.’

  Meredith scowled in the darkness of his bedroom. ‘So why ring me … the Pandas and mobiles can deal with it, can’t they?’

  Ellis was fond of leaving the punchline to the very end.

  ‘This watchman – he was smart enough to give us the number of the car. Information Room had it on their special list … it’s Tiger Ismail’s Ford!’

  Meredith leapt out of bed, still hanging on to the phone.

  ‘Get that place sealed off – everything on wheels around it! I’ll skin anybody who lets them get out! I’ll be there in ten minutes.’

  Nine minutes later, Old Nick skidded to a halt outside Police Headquarters, picked up Ellis from the steps and accelerated off into the one-way system that led them back to the castle.

  ‘What’s been happening?’ he demanded as the car slithered around a bend on the rain-soaked road.

  ‘I’ve got three patrol cars and a Panda around the block and four extra men sent down from Central – that’s eleven men strung out all around the building. There are umpteen doors – in the arcades as well – but that should bottle them up. One of the Pandas is parked across the loading bay entrance, so they can’t get their car out now.’

  Meredith nodded his satisfaction as they ran across a red light at a deserted intersection.

  ‘Any sign that they’ve heard us coming?’

  Bob Ellis shook his head. ‘Not a peep – the place looks as dead as a doornail, so the mobiles reported on the air just now. They’re just standing to, not making any attempt to get in until we arrive.’

  ‘Any watchmen in that place?’

  ‘Two – nothing heard of them tonight. There’s an alarm system from their cabin to Central, but it hasn’t gone off.’

  Meredith slowed down as he came level with the first tower of the great castle. A few yards further and he stopped behind a black police Wolseley parked at the kerb.

  A uniformed patrolman stepped from the shadows of the arcade and touched his cap.

  ‘Nothing happened so far, sir … all the doors seem secure.’

  Meredith stepped back and looked along the dimly lit arcade.

  ‘Like a bloody rabbit warren! Does all that balcony belong to the shop?’ He pointed to an upper veranda where an ornate Victorian railing ran at first-floor level for the full length of the arcade.

  ‘Yessir – there’s a couple of bridges across to the premises opposite. All the doors should be locked, but it’ll take a lot of men to seal it off properly.’

  Old Nick looked along the Castle Street frontage of the store.

  ‘How many of them inside, d’you know?’

  ‘Only two were seen, sir, the driver and the chap who let them in. If it is Ismail, I suppose he’ll have his three yobs with him,’ replied Ellis.

  A movement in the gloom along the street caught Meredith’s eye. Another constable was standing guard over the main entrance.

  ‘Well, no good standing here scratching ourselves,’ he muttered. ‘What’s the best way in?’

  The patrolman, a sergeant, jerked a thumb down the arcade.

  ‘Until we get someone to come from the firm with keys, the best bet is the little staff entrance down there. Make a hell of a row, though, smashing it open!’

  They moved towards the door in the arcade. As they padded along, a flashing light flickered urgently from the other end, where the tunnel joined the street at the back.

  ‘I’ll get it,’ murmured Ellis. He was wearing crêpe-soled shoes and sped soundlessly down to the light, which was being waved by a constable from the Panda car.

  A moment later he was back at Meredith’s side, slightly out of breath. ‘Information Room – the alarm has just gone off from inside. They telephoned the shop number, but there was no reply … the phone is switched through to the watchmen’s cabin at night.’

  Meredith straightened up and stopped whispering. ‘Right, no need for all this cloak-and-dagger stuff now. Let’s get in there!’ As he made for the door, he snapped some instructions at the sergeant. ‘Get on the air and ask for more men … any men, get ’em off their backsides in the canteen. And any other cars that are free … and tell them to roust out the management of this place, someone who knows the geography and has a full set of keys. This might be a long job … better tell the Chief what’s going on too, for good measure.’

  The sergeant ran off, his boots shattering the still night air.

  Meredith shone his torch on the door. ‘Good lock – take some breaking open.’

  He and Ellis threw their weight against the
door without making the slightest impression. They waited for the brawny patrol sergeant to come back and add his weight, but still the door showed no signs of giving way.

  ‘The – fanlight – you’re the smallest, Ellis,’ snapped Meredith.

  ‘Thanks very much!’ muttered the five-foot-ten inspector.

  The other two lifted him on their hands and he was able to tear off the wire-mesh grille by sheer brute force.

  With the butt end of the sergeant’s torch he smashed out all the glass, then was ignominiously pushed through to fall heavily and painfully amongst the fragments of glass on the other side.

  Bleeding from several small cuts and cursing fluently in a mixture of English and Welsh, Ellis opened the door and let them in. As he did so, another car pulled up at the Castle Street end of the arcade and five policemen tumbled out, two of them plainclothes CID men on the night shift.

  ‘One of you stay on this door,’ snapped Meredith. ‘Lock it and yell like hell if anyone tries to get out.’

  He plunged off into the darkness, the white edge of his pyjama trousers flapping below his turn-ups.

  When he reached the first showroom he split the party into three groups. ‘Turn on all the light switches you can find.’ He groped around the staircase at the end of the room and flooded the area with light. ‘That’s a start … now get going and if you meet these villains blow your whistles so that we know where you are – this place is like a maze.’

  Two men ran up the wide stairs and three more took the right hand corridor which ran between acres of furniture.

  ‘Ellis, let’s try this way.’

  The two senior men went off at a trot, flashing their torches in search of more light switches. As they turned the next bend, a drumming noise came eerily through the deserted store.

  ‘What the devil’s that?’ demanded Old Nick. Ellis broke into a run and at the end of the alleyway saw light streaming from a crack in a doorway.

  ‘Somebody in there, sir … what the bloody hell!’

  As he spoke, the door crashed open and in the patch of brightness that flooded out, a weird figure tottered across the carpet. It swayed and tottered then fell full-length on to the floor.

  ‘Looks like a flaming Egyptian mummy!’ croaked the imaginative Ellis. He dashed the last few yards at Olympic sprint standard and stood over the wriggling body as Meredith caught up.

  The policemen knelt down and tore off the sticking plaster from the man’s mouth – a painful process, judging by the look of agony on his face.

  The face was that of Iago Price.

  ‘You again! … what in God’s name are you doing here?’ Meredith’s amazement was almost comical, but no one was in a laughing mood.

  ‘Two more inside,’ gasped Iago, his face deathly pale except for the angry red streaks where the plaster had been. His moustache had been half pulled out and he felt sick and frightened.

  Ellis dashed into the cubicle and began to un-gag the two nightwatchmen, while Meredith unwrapped the surgical tape from Iago’s wrists and ankles.

  ‘Who did this – how many are on the premises?’ he asked in a steely voice.

  ‘Ismail – and that long-haired chap,’ quavered Iago. ‘And an Italian or something, as well as the little fellow who was in the pub. There’s a girl as well … blast her!’

  Ellis came back out of the cabin. ‘The men are all right – just leave ’em a minute till their circulation comes back.’

  Meredith was more concerned about the location of the thieves.

  ‘Price, where are they, d’you know?’

  Iago sat up painfully, rubbing his wrists. He waved feebly across at the ransacked jewellery shop. ‘They were looting that place, until they heard you banging on the door. Then they ran upstairs to the offices … they’re going to blow the safe – the others are up there.’

  Old Nick looked fiercely at Ellis. ‘Have you got a whistle?’

  The inspector shook his head. It was years since he’d blown one.

  A voice came weakly from the cubicle. ‘There’s one on the shelf here – I always kept it handy,’ said the elder of the two caretakers.

  Ellis found the whistle and began blowing it again and again.

  Meredith went into the cubbyhole to see the other men.

  ‘As soon as you’re all right, I’d like you to help us … you know the way around. Can you open one of the rear doors to let in more officers?’

  One of the watchmen stumbled across with Meredith and opened a door leading on to the back street, letting in three constables who were banging on the door, trying to answer the summons of the police whistle.

  ‘Lock it again and one of you stand guard here,’ snapped Old Nick. He hurried back to the cubicle and spoke to Iago. ‘I’ll talk to you later … but who set off the alarm?’

  ‘I did!’ answered the amateur sleuth proudly, ‘I managed to get up and lean against it until that blasted woman came in and kicked me back to the floor!’

  The motor patrol sergeant came back with two other men and they all set out for the upstairs accounts office, leaving Iago alone to nurse his bruises. In the office on the second floor, the five intruders listened to the distant police whistle with varying shades of apprehension.

  The alarm had gone off a moment before, in spite of Betty’s watchfulness … they had abandoned the jewellery shop and raced up to Tiger to see what he was going to do.

  His plan was simple – drop everything and get out.

  Archie Vaughan was wringing his hands in anguish and already counting the years he would spend ‘over the wall’ as a result of tonight’s fiasco.

  ‘How the ’ell did they get on to us?’ he moaned.

  ‘That flaming private eye!’ snarled Betty. ‘I wish I’d kicked his head off now.’

  ‘Couldn’t have been him – the law was here straight after the alarm went off … they must have been tipped off some other way.’ Joe Davies sounded almost elated at the prospect of the coming battle.

  Tiger smacked the office desk with the flat of his hand. ‘Shurrup, all of you … what are we goin’ to do … stick together or separate?’ He went to the door and listened intently. The safe still stood intact in its corner, with Nikos’ preparations for blasting the door still half finished. On the table, five suitcases – stolen from the store – stood open and pathetically empty, waiting for the cash.

  ‘What about the car – can we try a run for it,’ hissed Archie, his eyeballs rolling in fear.

  ‘Don’t be bloody stupid … they’ll have blocked the gate by now. We’ll have to split up … the store is big enough to lose an army in – if we play it clever, we can slip out somewhere. They’ll have the rozzers on the doors, but there’s plenty of windows.’

  Joe Davies had an idea – a typically violent, destructive idea. ‘What about a diversion, Tiger … we could start a good old fire. That’ll draw ’em off for a bit.’

  Ismail nodded. He was as pale as his dark colour allowed, but calm and still calculating the odds with mechanical precision.

  ‘We’ll split up now … all make your own way – and the best of luck. Joe and Nikos can find something that’ll burn, to pull off the bobbies while we scatter. Betty – you first … get lost, girl!’

  She slipped reluctantly out of the false shelter of the office, followed by Archie Vaughan. Joe and the Greek went next, leaving Tiger alone.

  He went quickly to the case in which they had brought the gelignite and took out a handful of rings and brooches. He had palmed these from the loot taken from the jewellery store when they were taking it all to the car. The rest of the stuff was now lying uselessly in the boot, but Tiger had creamed off the better stuff for himself. It was a poor substitute for the expected cash haul, but better than nothing in the disastrous circumstances.

  He crammed them into his pocket and slipped out into the darkness of the store. The fur department was immediately outside and he found time to regret leaving all the mink that hung on the racks nearby. As he
slipped like a shadow towards the stairs, a muffled roar and a blast of hot air signalled the start of the diversion on the floor below.

  Joe Davis and Nikos had found the decorating department and some shelves of turpentine substitute. Within seconds, they had hurled dozens of bottles at the racks of wallpaper and paint … one touch of Nikos’ cigarette lighter had converted the place into an inferno.

  The Greek had to run to avoid being roasted – when he slowed down, he found he was on his own.

  But not for long … as he trod on the first tread of the staircase, a pair of massive hands grabbed him by the shoulders and two more hands snapped handcuffs on his wrists. Two constables from a motor patrol smiled happily at each other from behind his back.

  ‘One down and four to go! … hope someone has called the fire brigade, or there’ll be smoked Tiger for breakfast!’

  Betty Thomas had not lasted long, either.

  Knowing the layout of the store fairly well, she managed to reach the basement by various obscure routes. She had a vague idea of hiding in a delivery van until morning, but as she entered the loading bay, a tall detective stepped from behind a pile of boxes and grabbed her wrist.

  She fought, kicked and bit him, but the officer seemed impervious and eventually she subsided into weeping, hysterical frustration. A uniformed constable appeared from somewhere and the plainclothes man grinned at him. ‘Get on your Noddy set, Jack, and ask Central to send a woman PC over pronto … before I fall in love with Spitting Susie here!’

  Archie Vaughan was next for the chop. He saw his enemies coming at a distance, but it did him no good. As he entered the electrical department, two blue-mackintoshed figures appeared at the other end. He turned and fled, but after two corners along the passageway, he found himself facing a wall of flame from the hardware section. There was no side turning and he had to stand helplessly and even walk into the arms of the approaching constables as the flames drove him back.

  He went meekly enough, which was more than could be said for Joseph Stalin Davies.