The Job: Part Twenty Eight

~ beetleypete

This is the twenty-eighth part of a fiction serial, in 826 words. It may contain some swear words.

Final preparations.

News from Spain was good. Gloria and Angie loved the villa, and Chrissie was showing them around the town. Despite being out of season, there were still enough tourists to make the place feel lively. Letting his sister her take her friend had definitely been a good idea.

Another run out to the lay-by would have been nice, but Alan resisted the urge. He didn’t want his car showing up on traffic cameras in that area so soon before the job. Although everything seemed to be going to plan, there was so much to think about. No cops had come around asking questions, so he was fairly sure nobody had mentioned his name or description, not even that kid on the bike.

Time to be thankful for Frankie having those blacked-out windows in the backs of his cars.

By Tuesday, he had packed up all of his stuff except for what he needed until Thursday. He would leave it in the flat, then collect it that night. His flight to Spain had been booked in the name of Richard Alexander, a scheduled flight with British Airways for Friday evening. He would be travelling like a regular businessman, returning from a trip to London. If he did get a spin because of the robbery, no chance they would consider him to be a suspect. Well, hopefully not, anyway.

It was a chance he would have to take. No way was he hanging around in London any longer than necessary.

On Wednesday, he made his last visit to Rupert’s shop. The collection of the container was booked for four in the afternoon on Thursday. Rupert told him the container would go on board the ship on Friday sometime, and then there were seven sailing days to Bilbao. Once it was off-loaded, he would get a text with the container number, and a fax sent to his company in Tossa with authorisation to collect it. Then Alan would have to hire a local trucking company to do the pick up. It all seemed right.

He spoke to Rupert about the guns. “If we don’t have to use them, your man can collect them with the container. Don’t worry about the refund, that’s my present for all your help. If any are used, I will give them all to one of the blokes on the job. He’s ex-army, and will know what to do with them. If I don’t see you again, thanks for all you have done”. The dealer extended a hand. “The pleasure was all mine, Alan old love”.

Looking over some maps that evening, Alan went over routes from where they would spring the job, back to the warehouse. One of the swap vehicles would take the long southern route back, the other direct along the main road. He didn’t want them to be seen together, or driving in some kind of convoy. Kenny and his mate would get rid of the white vans, then meet the others back at the warehouse using straight cars.

Carl had his instructions to take away all the overalls, boots and disguises, as well as any maps and paperwork. The warehouse would be left completely empty. Alan would go to the office of the letting agent before it closed, drop off the keys, and bung him twenty quid for a new smoke alarm. Then give him some excuse about having to wrap up his business before Christmas, and not ask for a refund of the unused rental period.

Chalky White was briefing his murder investigation team. “Okay, two men shot, hit-man style, very clean and neat. No suspects, but obviously someone paid this guy to hit Frankie. His bodyguard had to go of course, just because he was there. Nothing worth looking at on CCTV, and a shitload of grief as other arseholes try to pick over Toland’s scraps. That’s calming down now, and it seems like the Albanians have grabbed his hookers, and the Somalis are now able to deal drugs on street corners without getting their arses kicked. Jimmy Reid’s lot have moved into the gaming machines and protection rackets, but we know about those fuckers, so that’s manageable”.

He rubbed his face, and took a sip of his coffee. Everyone watching knew that he would have a large scotch in there.

“We have to ask the question. Why? Why now, after all this time? My guess is that Toland’s lot were planning a big job. Another safe deposit caper, ot something like the Brinks Mat gold robbery. Someone else wanted in, and didn’t get in. So he took Frankie out, and now he’s going to do it himself”. The team were staring at their boss as if he was talking in a foreign language, which upset him.

“Get your arses out on the ground. Shake a few trees, and see where the coconuts fall”.

35 thoughts on “The Job: Part Twenty Eight”

  2. There are also a lot of good advices, for planning a own coup, Pete! But you are writing it with a happy ending for the law and the order department. Lol xx Michael
    By the way: I had never watched or read, where the burglars had reached their goal. 😉 xx

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  9. (1) “Letting his sister her take her friend had definitely been a good idea.” Alan owes the letting agent a congratulatory pat on the back.
    (2) The kid on the bmx bike is actually a tomboy named May B. MacGuffin.
    (3) Bad citation: “He would be travelling like a regular businessman with a reliable digestive system.”
    (4) Rupert told Alan there are seven sailing days to Bilbao. “Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. Take your pick!”
    (5) “Then Alan would have to hire a local trucking company to do the pick up.” I hope the trucking company doesn’t provide a pickup truck to do the pick up.
    (6) Using crooked men to drive straight cars will probably throw coppers a curve.
    (7) The elves at the North Pole were told to wrap up their business before Christmas. #SantaSays
    (8) Overheard:
    Chalky White: “My guess is that Claude Cooper, the kleptomaniac from Cleveland, was planning a copper clapper caper, and that before he could cop the clean copper clappers kept in Clara Clifford’s closet, a particularly capable criminal clobbered him.”
    Sgt. Bilko: “With all due respect, sir, I think you’ve been watching too many old Johnny Carson skits.”
    (9) Overheard:
    Chalky White: “Get your arses out on the ground. Shake a few trees, and see where the coconuts fall.”
    Sgt. Bilko: “With all due respect, sir, coconut trees don’t grow in the U.K.”

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