1958 - The World in My Pocket Read online

  ‘Come on, son,’ Delaney said, his voice sharpening. ‘If you know something, trot it out. Your father’s right: you could get into serious trouble if you’re wasting our time.’

  ‘The truck’s hidden in a caravan,’ the boy said.

  ‘Now look,’ Bradford said, ‘we’ve been over all that. You know as well as I do.’

  ‘Just a moment, Mr. Bradford,’ Delaney broke in, ‘I’ll do the talking, if you please.’ He turned to the boy. ‘What makes you think the truck is in a caravan, son?’

  ‘I’ve seen it,’ the boy said. ‘They have two big steel girders bolted to the bottom of the caravan so the truck can’t fall through.’

  ‘They? Who do you mean?’

  ‘The guys who stole the truck, of course.’

  Delaney and Cooper looked at each other. Delaney was faintly excited.

  ‘You’ve actually seen the truck?’

  The boy nodded, then, frowning, he took off his hat.

  ‘It’s cool enough when I first put it on,’ he said seriously, ‘but after a while, the grass seems to heat up.’ He emptied the grass out of his hat. ‘I guess I’ll have to keep putting fresh grass in if it’s going to work at all.’

  He began to fill the hat with grass again.

  ‘Where did you see the truck?’ Delaney asked, his voice thin with exasperation.

  The boy continued to tear up handfuls of grass which he dropped into the hat.

  ‘Did you hear what I said?’ Delaney barked.

  ‘What was that?’ the boy asked, pausing for a moment to look up at Delaney.

  ‘I asked you where the truck is,’ Delaney said.

  The boy began to put more grass into his hat.

  ‘My father says the police wouldn’t give me the reward,’ he said. ‘He says they’ll keep it for themselves.’

  Bradford shifted uneasily.

  ‘I never said any such thing!’ he said angrily. ‘You should be ashamed of yourself talking that way.’

  The boy stared at him, then he blew a long stream of air from his lips, making a noise like the ripping of calico.

  ‘What a whopper!’ he said when he had finished making the noise. ‘You said if you told them the truck was hidden in a caravan, they’d think you had stolen it. You said all cops were crooks.’

  ‘Okay, okay,’ Cooper growled. ‘Never mind what your old man said. Where did you see the truck?’

  Very slowly and very carefully, the boy bent over the hat, dipped his head into it and pulled it down on his head.

  ‘I’m not telling you until I get the reward,’ he said, straightening and staring up at the lieutenant.

  ‘Yeah? Well, we’ll see about that,’ Cooper said, his face hardening. ‘You two can come down to headquarters, and if you’ve been wasting our time.’

  ‘I’ll handle this,’ Delaney said quietly. ‘Now, listen, son,’ he said, ‘anyone who gives us information that will help us find the truck, gets the reward. It doesn’t matter who it is. If your information helps us find the truck, then you’ll get the reward.’

  The boy studied the major for several seconds.

  ‘Honest?’

  The major nodded.

  ‘Honest.’

  ‘You won’t give the reward to my father? You’ll give it to me?’

  ‘I’ll give it to you.’

  ‘Five thousand?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  The boy brooded for a long moment while the three men watched him.

  ‘No fooling?’ he asked, staring at the major. ‘You’ll give me the reward if I tell you?’

  The major nodded, his smile very wide and very sincere.

  ‘No fooling, son. When the Army says something, the Army means just what it says.’

  Again the boy brooded, then finally he said, ‘Well, then I’ll tell you. There are four of them: three men and a girl. Two of the men stayed in the caravan all day. They only left at night. I saw them leave after it got dark. I have the number of the car. They said they were going to Stag Lake, but they were lying. They took the road to the highway and that’s no way to go to Stag Lake. The caravan is white with a blue top.’ He took from his pocket a much thumbed notebook and tore out a page. ‘That’s the car number.’

  ‘But how do you know the truck is in the caravan?’ Delaney asked, carefully putting the scrap of paper into his wallet.

  ‘I saw it when the two men got into the caravan in the morning,’ the boy said. ‘I got up specially early to watch.’

  ‘But how did you know it was the truck?’

  The boy regarded the major patiently.

  ‘I read the description in the papers. It was the truck all right.’

  ‘When did they leave?’

  ‘Yesterday midday. I saw them go. They didn’t take the road to Stag Lake. They were heading for the mountains.’

  ‘We’ve lost a lot of time,’ Delaney said, frowning. ‘Why didn’t you get your father to telephone us?’

  ‘I asked him. He wouldn’t let me and he wouldn’t do it himself, that’s why I wrote,’ the boy said. ‘He said all cops were crooks.’

  Delaney and Cooper stared hard at Bradford for a long moment.

  ‘I was just fooling,’ Bradford said in a small voice, his face red. ‘I didn’t really think.’

  ‘Can you give me a description of these people?’ Delaney said, turning to the boy.

  ‘Sure,’ the boy said and gave an accurate description of Kitson, Ginny, Gypo and Bleck.

  Cooper wrote down the descriptions in his notebook.

  ‘That’s fine, son,’ Delaney said. ‘You’ve done a swell job. I’ll certainly recommend you for the reward if we find the truck.’

  ‘You’ll find it all right,’ the boy said. He took off his hat and shook out the grass. ‘There’s something wrong with this idea. It gets hot too quickly.’

  Cooper said with a grin, ‘Try putting some ice in it. That’ll cool you off.’

  The boy’s look was withering.

  ‘That’s a dumb idea,’ he said. ‘The ice would melt.’

  Delaney patted the boy on his shoulder.

  ‘I’ll tell you how to fix it,’ he said. ‘Cut the top off the hat: that’ll let the air in and it’ll also start a new fashion.’

  The boy considered this, then he nodded.

  ‘That’s quite smart,’ he said. ‘I’ll try it. There could be money in it.’

  As the two men walked back to their car, Delaney said, ‘Up in the mountains: that’s the one spot we haven’t checked. They could be up there.’

  ‘No, they couldn’t,’ Cooper said. ‘If I thought they could have got up there, I’d have checked before now, but no one could get up there. The road is washed out. You could never get the truck up that bit of road.’

  ‘They might have been lucky,’ Delaney said. ‘There is nowhere else to look. I’m going to check.’

  Cooper got into the car and started the engine.

  ‘Are you really going to recommend that kid for the reward?’ he asked.

  Delaney settled himself beside Cooper. There was a faraway expression in his eyes as he said, ‘What is a kid of ten going to do with five thousand bucks? His father would only grab it.’ He glanced at Cooper and his smile appeared very sincere. ‘We know who is going to get the reward, don’t we? It is stated whoever finds the truck gets the reward. I guess you and me will find it so we will get the reward.’

  Cooper blew out his cheeks.

  ‘The way you talked to that kid had me worried.’

  Delaney nodded.

  ‘I know how to handle kids,’ he said. ‘You’ve got to be goddamn sincere with them, otherwise they don’t trust you. I’ve always been a pretty sincere man,’ and he laughed.

  II

  It was a little after nine o’clock when Kitson came back to the camp. He carried Gypo’s shovel on his shoulder and his shirt was plastered with sweat.

  Ginny was sitting on a rock in the shade of a tree, her face very white and her eyes fu
ll of unshed tears.

  Bleck had got the truck out of the caravan. He was leaning against the door, his ear to the lock, his right hand moving the dial very slowly and carefully while he listened.

  Kitson put down the shovel, then went over to join Ginny. He sat down at her feet and lit a cigarette, his hands unsteady.

  She reached out and put her hand on his shoulder.

  ‘What a way to die,’ Kitson said, reaching up and covering her hand with his. ‘There was nothing I could do for him. He died while that rat and I were fighting, but even at that, I could never have got him to hospital in time.’

  ‘Don’t talk about it, Alex.’

  ‘And burying him like that: the way you bury a dog. He was a good guy, Ginny. I ought to have listened to him. He didn’t want this job. He tried to talk me into quitting. I wish I had listened to him.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘He said nothing good would come of it. He was right. Let’s get out of here, Ginny. You and me. As soon as it’s dark, we’ll go.’

  ‘Yes,’ Ginny said. ‘It’s all my fault. I’ll never forgive myself. I started it. When you went down to bury him, I sat here, thinking. I can see how wrong and how bad I’ve been. Even if we open the truck right now I wouldn’t touch any of the money. I must have been out of my mind!’

  ‘You mean you will come with me?’ Kitson said, not looking at her. ‘We could start a new life, Ginny. Would you marry me?’

  ‘If that’s what you want,’ she said. ‘But you don’t really imagine we are going to get away with this, do you? Sooner or later, they’ll get onto us.’

  Kitson stubbed out his cigarette and threw it away.

  ‘We might be lucky. It’s worth a try. We’ll take the Buick and make for the Mexican border. They haven’t got our descriptions. If we once get to Mexico.’

  Bleck yelled, ‘Hey, Kitson! Come over here! What do you imagine you are doing? Come here and give me a hand!’

  Kitson and Ginny exchanged glances, then Kitson got to his feet. He walked over to the truck.

  ‘Can you handle a flame?’ Bleck asked. His face was set and tense, his eyes wild-looking.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Well, now’s the time to learn. We’re going to burn our way into this goddamn box! Come on - give me a hand with the cylinders.’

  ‘Not me,’ Kitson said quietly.

  Bleck glared at him.

  ‘What do you mean? We’ve got to get this truck open, haven’t we?’

  ‘I haven’t,’ Kitson said. ‘I’m through. I shouldn’t have touched this job. You open it. The money’s all yours if you can get at it. I’m quitting.’

  Bleck drew in a long slow breath.

  ‘Listen, you creep, I can’t handle it on my own! Give me a hand with the cylinders and stop shooting off with your mouth!’

  ‘As soon as it gets dark,’ Kitson said, ‘Ginny and me are leaving. You can please yourself what you do, but we’re leaving.’

  ‘So that’s it,’ Bleck snarled. ‘You two . . . well, what do you know? So you finally made it, plough boy. And you’re walking out on a million dollars. You’re crazy!’

  ‘That’s what we’re doing,’ Kitson said quietly.

  ‘You’ve got a long walk ahead of you,’ Bleck sneered.

  ‘We’re taking the Buick.’

  ‘That’s what you think. I’m using the Buick and I’m not ready to go yet.’ He thumped the side of the truck. ‘I’m busting open this truck if it’s the last thing I do! Neither you, you yellow gutted monkey, nor your floozie is going to stop me! If you want to quit, then damn well quit, but you’ll quit on your flat feet. You’re not taking the car!’

  Out of the corner of his eye, Bleck saw Ginny suddenly get to her feet and begin to move towards him. He realized this was two against one. He guessed Ginny had a gun.

  Kitson was saying quietly, ‘We’re leaving tonight, and we’re leaving in the car. You can come with us to the highway if you want to, but after that you’re on your own. Suit yourself.’

  Bleck hesitated, then he looked towards Ginny, who was still now, her right hand held out of sight by her side. If he didn’t play this right, these two would kill him, he thought.

  Shrugging his shoulders, he said to Kitson, ‘Well, okay, if that’s the way you want it. We’ve got until dark to work on the truck. That’s twelve hours. In that time we could be lucky.

  You’re not just going to sit around and do nothing all that time, are you? Give me a hand with the cylinders!’

  Surprised by this sudden climb down, Kitson hesitated.

  ‘Okay,’ he said, ‘but it’s not going to get you anywhere. You’re not going to burn a hole in that truck if you try for twenty years.’

  ‘We’ll see.’ Bleck glanced over at Ginny. She was still watching him, but she had relaxed. ‘You talk too much, plough boy. Come on and give me a hand.’

  As Kitson moved past Bleck to the caravan, Bleck pulled his gun and rammed it into Kitson’s ribs.

  ‘Drop that gun!’ he yelled at Ginny, ‘or I’ll blast a hole in your boyfriend!’

  Ginny let go of the gun she held in her hand. It dropped onto the grass.

  Bleck backed away, covering them both.

  ‘Get away from it,’ he snarled.

  Ginny moved to Kitson.

  Bleck circled them, picked up Ginny’s gun and threw it into the lake.

  ‘Now you two listen to me,’ he said. ‘We’re busting this truck. Don’t kid yourselves I can’t handle you both. We’re not going to move from here until we’ve opened the truck and got the dough. If you don’t want it, I do, and I’m going to have it.’ He waved his gun at Kitson. ‘Get in there and get the cylinders out.’

  Shrugging, Kitson went over to the caravan and Bleck followed him.

  ‘I’m not going to manage this on my own,’ Kitson said. ‘Gypo and I put them up. I know what they weigh. You’d better get hold of the other end.’

  Bleck grinned. He put his gun in its holster.

  ‘Don’t start anything funny, plough boy,’ he said. ‘I can handle you any time.’

  Kitson reached up and jerked the cylinder out of its bracket.

  Bleck eased his end out and got it on his shoulder. The two men slowly backed out of the caravan.

  As Kitson got clear of the caravan, he suddenly let go of his end of the cylinder. The unexpected shock as the cylinder thudded to the ground threw Bleck off balance.

  Kitson jumped forward. His right fist thudded into the side of Bleck’s neck, flattening him.

  Cursing, Bleck tugged at his gun, but Kitson’s thirteen stone of bone and muscle came down on him. For several seconds the two men fought like animals, then Bleck drove his knee into Kitson’s chest and threw him off. He got his gun out as Kitson reached him.

  Kitson’s hand grabbed Bleck’s wrist and at the same time he jolted his left into Bleck’s face.

  Bleck grunted and let go of the gun.

  Kitson was on his feet and covering Bleck with the gun before he could shake off the effect of the punch.

  Bleck half sat up, blood running down his face from a cut under his eye, his lips drawn off his teeth in a snarl.

  ‘I’ll fix you for this!’ he said viciously.

  ‘Your fixing days are over,’ Kitson said, breathing heavily.

  Then suddenly, without warning, there came a roar of an aircraft engine and a swish of air as a small military training plane flew over their heads, flattening the grass with its slipstream as it banked steeply and flew on across the valley.

  Bleck staggered to his feet, staring after the aircraft.

  ‘They saw us!’ he gasped. ‘They couldn’t fail to have seen us! They’ll be up here and after us!’

  The three stood motionless, watching the aircraft bank in a tight circle and head back towards them.

  ‘Get under cover!’ Bleck yelled and he made a frantic rush towards the woods.

  The other two scattered, also running towards the woods, but the aircraft was already
on them. Flying not more than a hundred feet above them, the aircraft swept over them with a roar and a rush of wind. They could see two men leaning out of the open cockpits, looking directly down at them, then the aircraft banked and went away.

  Ginny and Kitson looked at each other, their eyes frightened.

  Bleck bawled, ‘Get under cover, you fools! Don’t stand out there!’

  Ignoring him, Kitson said, ‘They saw us. They’ll be up here, Ginny.’

  ‘Yes. I said they would get on to us.’

  Kitson moved quickly to the road, crossed it and, crouching, he looked over the grass verge down the long zigzag road that was now clearly to be seen right down into the valley.

  About ten miles down the road he saw three cars coming fast, spreading a cloud of dust as they raced into the twisting bends in the road.

  He felt a little knock of fear at his heart as he ran back to Ginny.

  ‘They’re coming now!’

  Bleck came out of the wood cursing.

  ‘Can you see them?’

  ‘Yes. They’ll be here in ten minutes at the rate they are coming.’

  ‘We’ve got a chance,’ Bleck said, his voice shaking. ‘Get the Buick. If we can get over the top of the mountain we stand a chance.’

  ‘A mile further up the road peters out,’ Kitson said. ‘We might climb . . .’

  Bleck ran to the caravan and came back carrying the automatic rifle.

  ‘They’re not taking me alive,’ he said, his eyes glittering. ‘No death cell for me.’

  Kitson opened the Buick door and Ginny slid in beside him.

  He could feel her trembling and he patted her knee.

  ‘Take it easy,’ he said. ‘We still have a chance.’

  As Bleck got in beside Ginny, Kitson eased the car over the rough grass and onto the road. The three of them looked back at the truck, standing under the trees.

  ‘The punks said it was the safest truck in the world,’ Bleck said savagely. ‘They weren’t bluffing.’

  Kitson sent the car banging and bouncing up the road.

  Bleck leaned out of the window to get his last look at the truck. There’s more than a million dollars in that truck, he was thinking. There’s my future and my life locked up in there too.

  Kitson drove fast, skidding into the bends, his face tense, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. They came to the first hairpin bend, and he slowed to take it, but misjudged it. He had to stop and reverse while Bleck cursed him.