1958 - The World in My Pocket by James Hadley Chase

Author:James Hadley Chase
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

II

Morgan was the first to arrive.

He pulled up outside Gypo’s workshop as the hands on the Buick’s dashboard clock stood at ten minutes to eight. The previous night, he, Bleck and Gypo had worked over the car until they were satisfied that it was one hundred percent efficient, and Morgan had then taken it back to his place, giving it a tryout.

He found Gypo checking the tools he had put in the cupboard in the caravan.

He saw immediately that Gypo was pale, and his breathing laboured. When he handled the tools, his hands were shaking. That should pass, Morgan thought. It had got to pass.

Even he felt strung up now that they were so near to the first step in the plan, and he could excuse Gypo for feeling nervous, but he didn’t intend to excuse him if he didn’t settle down, and settle down fast.

‘Hi, Gypo,’ he said. ‘You okay?’

‘Sure,’ Gypo said, not meeting his eyes. ‘It’s going to be a hot day. Better the sun than the rain, huh?’

Ginny came into the shed, carrying a picnic basket and her suitcase.

Morgan thought the girl looked as if she had slept badly. There were shadows under her eyes and she seemed pale under her make-up.

‘Well, this is it,’ he said, going over to her. ‘Worried?’

She looked at him, her sea-green eyes impersonal and cool.

‘No more than you.’

He grinned at her.

‘That makes you worried then,’ he said.

Kitson came in, followed by Bleck.

Morgan had an immediate suspicion that Bleck had been drinking. His face was flushed, and he walked with a swagger.

This gave Morgan his first twinge of uneasiness.

Kitson seemed nervy, but much more in control of himself than either Gypo or Bleck, and this surprised Morgan.

It was now two minutes to eight, and he saw no point in hanging around stretching nerves that were already too taut.

‘Okay, fellows, let’s go,’ he said curtly. ‘Get the caravan out, you three. Ginny, take the MG and get over to the Agency.’

He walked with her to the car and watched her get in. He stood over her, looking down at her, thinking how cool she was and admiring her.

‘You know what to do, and you’ll do it right,’ he said. ‘Good luck.’

She gave him a ghost of a smile and then started the engine.

Kitson came hurrying over.

‘Good luck,’ he said. ‘Be careful how you drive. That car’s fast.’

She looked up at him and nodded.

‘Thanks: good luck to you,’ and, letting in the clutch, she drove the car out of the workshop.

Five minutes later, the Buick nosed its way out of the workshop, hauling the caravan.

Morgan and Bleck were sitting on the floor of the caravan.

Kitson was driving.

Gypo closed the doors of the workshop, then he hung a sign on the padlock that read: Closed for the Summer Vacation. He had a sudden presentiment that he would never see this old ramshackle shed again, where he had spent fifteen idle years of his life. Although he hadn’t earned much from the workshop he had grown

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