The Camberwell Raid Read Free Page B

It’s traditional.’
    ‘Sounds crafty to me,’ said Horace. ‘Let’s toss for it.’
    ‘Not likely,’ said Sally, ‘I might lose. Anyway, the job’ll only last until – well, until.’
    ‘Until what?’ said Horace.
    ‘Oh, I’ll leave that to you, lovey,’ said Sally.
    ‘I get it,’ said Horace, ‘you mean until – well, until.’
    ‘Yes, that’s it,’ said Sally.
    ‘Who’s blushing?’ asked Horace.
    ‘Not me,’ said Sally.
    ‘Must be me, then,’ said Horace.
    ‘This is it,’ said Dusty Miller, a few minutes after Ginger Carstairs had arrived in his lodgings in Stead Street, Walworth. He produced a plank of stout timber, ten inches wide, two inches thick and a yard long. Six inches from the end of the plank a semi-circle, three inches deep, had been cut out of it. ‘That drops over the handle, Ginger, and the plank then bars the door on the outside. Which means?’
    ‘The door can’t be pulled open from the inside,’ said Ginger Carstairs.
    ‘You’re right first time,’ said Miller.
    ‘Well, of course I bloody well am,’ said Carstairs, as much of a cold-eyed character as Miller was, ‘it was my idea, wasn’t it?’
    ‘Now don’t get shirty,’ said Miller.
    ‘Listen, the whole thing’s my baby, and that puts me in charge,’ said Carstairs. ‘So I’ll point out you’ll need to drill a hole at the other end of the plank to take a long nail. One blow from a hammer has got to drive the nail into the door to hold the plank in place, or it’ll swing downwards and drop away from the handle. And there won’t be time for more than one blow. Have you got that?’
    ‘The hole’s already drilled,’ said Miller. ‘I’m a professional, and the next time I’m way behind an amateur will be the first’
    ‘Some professional, considering you’ve slipped up and done time,’ said Carstairs.
    Miller growled.
    ‘Just a few months for handling stolen goods,’ he said.
    ‘I haven’t done any,’ said Carstairs.
    ‘Well, you wouldn’t have, would you?’ said Miller. ‘This is your first job. What was it you said made you join the free-booters?’
    ‘I’m a rebel in search of quick riches, that’s what I said.’
    ‘So you did,’ said Miller. ‘When d’you get the shooter?’
    ‘In good time,’ said Carstairs.
    ‘Hope you realize that if we’re copped, it’ll be a long stretch for both of us,’ said Miller. ‘At the Old Bailey, no-one likes shooters.’
    ‘You can’t rob a bank with a bow and arrow,’ said Carstairs.
    ‘I’m still not sure we can do without a driver and a running engine,’ said Miller.
    ‘I’m not in favour of a three-way split,’ said Carstairs. ‘I’ll do the driving, as agreed. Now, let’s go through the plan again.’

Chapter Two
    A COUPLE OF days later, Tim confided to Rosie that he thought Eloise was getting to be a bit sugary with their dad, that she behaved as if she owned him.
    ‘Never mind, Tim old thing,’ said Rosie, ‘it won’t last, and the reason why it’s happening is because for years Eloise hasn’t had a father or even known there was one around. Think how lucky you and I have been, we’ve had Boots to ourselves for years and years. We can put up with Eloise making claims on him now, can’t we?’
    ‘Yes, but it’s “let’s go to the park” or “let’s go out” all the time,’ said Tim, ‘and it’s just said to Dad and it only ever means her and Dad.’
    ‘And what does Dad do?’ asked Rosie.
    ‘Oh, he says, “Good idea, let’s all go.”’ Tim grinned at what that meant. It meant his dad played fair and square.
    ‘Yes,’ said Rosie. ‘You see, Tim, no-one’s ever going to own all of Boots. Well, no-one should ever completely own any of us. But there are weak men and women who let it happen, who become dominated by one particular person. Heavens, Tim, that must be like being dead. A sense of belonging is much the best thing, old lad, not possessiveness or being possessed. That’s very special,