Loophole by Robert Pollock

Author:Robert Pollock [Pollock, Robert]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: The Odyssey Press
Published: 2017-04-21T23:00:00+00:00

How to Rob a Bank: The Job

AT EXACTLY EIGHT minutes past ten on a sunny Friday morning in 1972 a newly painted green van came up out of the Knightsbridge Underpass into Piccadilly and filtered into the stream of traffic that was heading east towards the centre of the West End of London. The van was being driven by a thin-faced man in workman’s overalls. By his side in the passenger seat a similarly dressed man watched the streams of traffic. Occasionally he would look at his watch.

Inside the van five men sat in tight spaces they had made between cylinders, prefabricated building units, lighting equipment, cases of varying sizes and an assortment of tools. Stretched securely across the rear exit doors were two large mattresses. The men were all wearing the same standard sewerman’s clothing: studded rubber thigh boots, seaman’s socks, overalls, neck sweatband, safety belt and donkey jacket. In their hands or nearby each had a pair of protective gloves and a metal helmet.

Taylor checked his watch. “We should be in the West End now,” he said.

The observation was accepted in silence. Four minutes later Mike Daniels issued his first order, “Light the lamps.”

Fagan was small and overweight but his hands were neat and the fingers surprisingly thin and waisted. His movements as he opened the nine Spiralarm gas detector lamps and ignited the flame in each lamp were a series of short, sharp acts that combined to almost flow together, like a squirrel gathering nuts. His domed head was beginning to sweat and the loose flesh on his smooth face gave him the look of an intent baby who was old before its years.

In the cab of the van Cliff muttered, “Another twenty minutes should do it.”

They took a direct route through Trafalgar Square, along The Strand and into Fleet Street. They crossed Ludgate Circus and went up the hill, passed St. Paul's and into the City. The van made a left turn at the first set of major traffic lights. It went down a narrow side street, made a right turn, then another right which brought it travelling up a one-way street towards the main road again.

Cliff turned and slid back the partition behind his seat. He called through the space, “We’re coming up to it.” He closed the partition.

The five men in the van started to move into action. They put their gloves and helmets on and crouched tight in anticipation.

“Open it.”

Taylor moved to the round hole in the centre of the floor and twisted the two bolt locks. He pulled out the cover and laid it to one side. Below him he could see the road. The van had reduced its speed to a crawl. Taylor waited. He saw the first chalk mark, then the second. “Now,” he said. One of the men banged on the partition and the van jerked to a halt. Taylor’s head came away from the hole in the floor. “Half a foot more,” he said.

The instruction was relayed through

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