Then Robert remembered how and why he was there!
He had been down at the local railway station to collect his daughter. Lynne, a sixteen year old schoolgirl from
“But, you promised me, Lynne! What’s your mum going to say?” Robert had shouted down the phone.
“I know Dad, but Laura has this great game on her Xbox and the time just slipped away!” Lynne replied tearfully.
Knowing this was a ‘no win’ situation; Robert asked to speak to Laura and after confirming what Lynne had said was true, asked if Laura could put Lynne up for the night. Laura confirmed that her parents would manage something and as the following day was Saturday, Lynne could catch the morning train.
After saying goodbye to his daughter, Robert rang his wife Sylvia, just to put her in the picture. He confirmed that he was on his way home and would see her in half an hour. As Robert made his way passed the train still standing at the platform, heading for the exit, he pictured in his mind the fish and chip supper he would get on the way home. Lots of salt and vinegar, that would just hit the mark!
The dark figure emerging from the ticket hall almost bumped into Robert as he made his way hurriedly to the waiting train. An odour wafted towards Robert from the small poorly dressed man. He smelt of cigarette smoke, onions and sweat.
An unhappy combination that tended to tell an observer’s senses that this was a person, as they would say in the old days, of ‘ill repute’.
The man turned and gave a sly look backwards and as the light from the ticket hall doorway played on his features, Robert knew who he was! It was Blackie Burnett,
Robert had seen his picture in the ‘rogue’s gallery’ down the police station. He was a ‘person of interest’ in numerous unsolved crimes that had occurred on or round about Framlington and Robert knew that he would have to arrest Burnett and bring him in.
“Hey, you!” shouted Robert, moving forward to apprehend the suspect. “I want a word with you!”
With another look back, this one with a mixture of shock and terror, Blackie opened a carriage door and after stumbling onboard the train, slammed it shut behind him.
Robert arrived at the closed door just as the guard’s whistle sounded and the mighty diesel train began to stretch its metal muscles prior to leaving the station.
Robert looked about, but apart from him the station was deserted. The guard had climbed aboard and the train began to pull out of the station.
With a quick mental weighing up of the consequences, P.C. Robert Graves yanked the door open and jumped aboard the train in pursuit of his quarry.
Robert tried to ring his sergeant at the police station to alert him as to the nature of his pursuit and to arrange for back up to take Blackie into custody when he had arrested him, but was unable to get a signal, possibly due to the nature of the terrain surrounding the station. Robert began to walk down through the compartments to find out where Blackie had scuttled off to.
Each compartment Robert looked into displayed no one resembling the dishevelled little man. Some of the compartments were empty as this was the last train of the evening and some just had a solitary traveller in them, often looking as if they were asleep. He could see no trace of his suspect.
Just as he reached the last compartment, Robert saw a familiar figure pull open the inter-connecting door and slip through into the nether regions of the train. Of course, thought Robert, there is a baggage area and that is where he is trying to hide.
Carefully pulling the door partially open, Robert peeked through the gap. All he could see was the darkness but then heard whispering.
“What do you mean, you brought a rozzer onto the train?” growled a voice.
“I don’t know whether he recognised me!” wailed a plaintive little voice, which had to be that of Blackie.
“That don’t matter,” whispered another voice, one with a little polish to it. “If he comes along we’ll handle him!”
“But, Gerald, he’ll ruin our plans!” said someone who sounded scared. “The train is due into Chesley in two hours and we have to be ready….!”
“Shut up!” hissed the posh voice. “It’s all set; no one can stop it now!”
Suddenly the door that Robert was listening at was flung open by someone from behind him and the policeman was thrown forwards into the dark. He landed heavily and after his eyes adjusted to the low light, saw that he lay as he had surmised, in the baggage compartment and in front of a group of mismatched individuals.
“I told you he recognised me!” Blackie said pointing at Robert.
“Be quiet Burnett, or I’ll throw you off the train,” the man in the three piece suit said with a polished accent. “Ned, tie him up!”
Ned grabbed Robert and wrestled him to his feet.
“Turn round!” he growled as he swung the policeman into the wall of the compartment. “Any funny business and I’ll smack you one!”
“Don’t hurt him!” pleaded a terrified looking man. “We can’t kill anyone!”
“Shut your mouth Wormesly!” hissed the man who had pushed Robert into the baggage car. “If we didn’t need a safe breaker, you wouldn’t be here!”
Robert found himself tied up and lying on the floor of the carriage. The five men, a real motley crew, looked down at him with distaste.
“Allow me to introduce ourselves, officer,” said the city gent with a smile. “I am Gerald Pettigrew, ex banker. My colleagues are Blackie Burnett, who I think you know. John Carman, a highly successful criminal, but prone to acts of cruelty and
Mr James Pelham, who masterminded this whole operation.”
“And what about me? Don’t I merit an introduction?” wailed the man called Wormesly.
“Oh yes,” the ex banker said, his voice full of mock regret. “Sorry, I forgot about you. Allow me to introduce Mr Percy Wormesly, an expert with safes.”
“You realise that we will have to get rid of you now!” snarled John Carmen. “Still that will be a real bonus, topping a rozzer!”
“No violence or you can count me out!” Wormesly said with real vehemence.
“OK,” Pelham agreed in a weary voice. “John, will you just stop him shouting out and warning everybody.”
Without breaking sweat John Carmen whipped a blackjack out of his pocket and hit Robert over the head, knocking him unconscious.
“Actually I meant you to gag him,” laughed Pelham. “But that will do just as nicely.”
.................................................................................................
At this point in his memory flash back Robert was brought up short with a shocking thought: he should have been dead! They had meant to kill him! Not only could he identify the gang but he also knew their names thanks to that strange introduction from the one he took to be the leader. What was his name? Gerald, yes that was it, Gerald something…Gerald - Pettigrew! But wait there was the other one; he seemed to be the brains of the outfit: he could see the smug face - James Pelham? That was it. Robert had always been good with names and faces; that was how he had spotted Blackie Burnett in the first place. He brought the other members of the gang to mind - a motley crew! He wouldn’t forget them in a hurry - that was the problem; they couldn’t let him live…
Why had they just left him? They meant to kill him. That hadn’t been an idle threat -why was he still alive? Maybe, the thought was disturbing, maybe they were coming back! Robert had lost track of time but judging by the failing light it must be early evening now. He must have been ‘out’ for longer than he had thought – maybe an hour …maybe more…
Robert had been straining at the cord tying his wrists. But it was useless; the cord just cut deeper into his flesh. He could feel the slipperiness of blood. He stopped his futile straining and strained with his ears instead. What was that? Was someone coming? There were so many sounds on the train: clanking and banging and rattling. It was hard to make out. There was something…he strained to hear; a background sound; faint but repetitive. His blood turned cold – ticking, ticking! Something was ticking. How long had he been hearing it? How long did he have?
Wait there was something else…the creak of a – door, and a distant voice, calling. He couldn’t make it out. Robert froze, straining to hear…
Was that them? Were they back?
The voice again, clearer, closer: ‘Frank…’ there was a pause, then footsteps.
‘Frank…you in here? Frank the games over!’
The games over? It wasn’t them, not the gang - it was a kid! Robert thrashed around to draw attention, growling in his throat.
More footsteps, much closer; from were he lay Robert could see an immaculate pair of white trainers.
‘Mister…you okay?’
Robert strained to look up, his eyes rolling. ‘Of course I’m not okay!’ he thought but he could only moan against his gag.
The kid stared back at him gormlessly but as the penny dropped his eyes popped in alarm. He reached into his pocket and produced an expensive looking pen knife. He flicked open a bright blade. For a moment Robert thought of the gang again but relaxed as the kid cut through the cord and freed his hands. He grabbed at the gag which was tied behind his head. The movement sent excruciating pain through his hands.
‘Thanks!’ he gasped. The kid watched him with big scared eyes.
‘It’s okay; I’m PC Graves…Police Constable Graves. You’ve done well son - you came in the nick of time’
The kid seemed to relax. ‘A Policeman’ he said. He still looked a bit shaken.
‘What’s your name?’ Robert asked.
‘Tommy’
‘Okay Tommy here is what we need to do…’ Robert started to search for the source of the ticking as he gave instructions to Tommy. He was relieved when Tommy left the baggage compartment to fetch the guard.
Eventually he discovered the elusive source of the ticking: a sturdy suit case which had been buried under several other cases. The case was very securely locked with two little combination padlocks.
Robert could barely hear the ticking now; it was almost drowned out by the pounding pulse in his ears. His hands were shaking. Sweat was stinging his eyes.
‘Screw this!’ he thought but he knew he couldn’t walk away from it. He remembered that moment when he had jumped on the train in pursuit of Blackie Burnett; there had been a split second there when he’d made a quick mental weighing of the consequences…he could have walked away from it then – but it was too late now.
The guard ran into the compartment. ‘Is that it?’ He shouted, pointing at the case. Robert nodded emphatically.
‘Yeah!’
‘We only have a couple of minutes! Quick- help me get this window open!’
Robert asked no questions. He hoped the guard knew what he was doing. The guard handed him a hammer.
‘This is the only way!’ he said. Robert didn’t hesitate. Two blows were enough to shatter the glass into a million pieces.
The guard grabbed the case. ‘Go easy with that!’ shouted Robert, as he gripped the other end. They got the case to the window. Robert could see the viaduct; it was approaching fast.
‘Ready…one, two, three, Now!’ the case flew out of the window and seem to hang in the air for a moment. Then it plummeted… It exploded mid-air just before it struck the river; the sound was deafening. There was a huge plume of water but no damage. The only casualties were a few fish.
Robert and the Guard exchange a look of relief and triumph. ‘Well done, well do!’ said Robert as they shook hands. ‘You’re a hero!’ The Guard grinned.
Robert tried his mobile phone gain. Surely he would get through to the station now. He had to warn his colleagues of the robbery to take place.
“Hello, this is Framlington Police Station. This is the duty sergeant. How can I help you?” a voice answered.
Quickly Robert explained what had been happening and what he needed.
‘Sarg! Yes, it’s okay this end.’ Robert turned from the Guard as he listened intently. ‘Definitely a bank job …yes, I think the bomb might have been a diversion at the local station…yes that will be the bank alright…Blackie and the boys are in for a surprise when they see me! Okay Sarg I’ll look out for the squad car with PC Kelly at the station…we’re just coming in now…. You and back up keep a low profile outside the bank, till I give you the shout!”
............................................................................................
We'd arrived, slowing, jolting and pulling into the station. I couldn't alight quick enough, with the platform still moving as my 8 hole Doc Martins pounded the concrete.
With all the confusion, excitement and adrenalin, my mind had dismissed PC Kelly as my eyes searched for the welcoming colours of a police car. For me, it was a sign of safety, a haven, home ... for I'd always been on the right side of the law but had I been a cop that long to have these feelings?
Just like old times, there she was, waiting for me, for us again.....tsk..tsk.....mind back on the job, it was a lifetime ago!
We were lovers then, just rookies, it was the olden days and before my life had meaning. But passion it did have, passion I'd been longing for, it seemed an age away.
"High street, Chesley, Angie" I almost ordered as I swiftly slid in and snapped my seatbelt home. "Hi Rob, how have you been?" she mellowed back. Her voice, the pitch, the tone, sensual and sexy as it had always been. Slipping into first gear, Angie hit the revs............
We'd met at rookie camp, graduated and been assigned to the same station in the early days. We were young and a pc's life wasn't so tight assed then. We'd become lovers within months and used every opportunity to explore each other intensely off and on the job.
The roads were quiet tonight, it was evening and people were at home doing their own thing, which left ghost highways for us to gobble up the tarmac.
"I've been good Angie, how’s the world been treating you?" "I'm good too" she quipped, "gave up on men for now, career driven I guess, it's never let me down" as she thumped into 5th gear. Boy, she could drive, always able to bring out the best in the standard squad car. She was as assertive a driver as she was as a lover. Always able to pump out the best of me ... Jesus, it'd been a while!!
Then....my phone went.....text message from the wife.....shit, I'd forgotten to check in. "All fine, I'm caught up with a job, Lynne having sleepover at Laura house tonight, home tomorrow on early train, don't worry, be home soon." my fingers frigged,....... as they had so many times as a rookie.
"Ok, take care, see you soon x" she replied........ I switched off.
As we rallied through the countryside, I stole a glimpse of Angie, the beauty was still there, raw sexual beauty. I was crossing the line, thinking the unthinkable, it was wrong......wasn't it??
Who would know? Would she respond? Is this territory I dare to tread??
"We've to maintain radio silence, in case of scanners" Angie said softly. "Yeah, I thought so", I breathed.
So here we were.....very much alone, our whereabouts unknown, our arrival at the bank unknown, phone killed, radio down, we had time, a place and I had a reason.....need, desperate need!
The squad car would be fine, passenger seat back, as we'd did it before, uniform stripped off, just enough to unleash our bodies.......to free us, so we could move, explore, like we used to, any way would do, her below, on top, all fours, for me to facially, digitally, or full penetration........
Then............as we cleared the trees, a lit horizon was before us, on the edge of Chesley. Was it too late? Had I blown my chance? Waited too long?....................Or had a close shave.....a real close shave but only in my mind?
We raced towards the crime, our chariot pounded the tarmac, just as I'd pounded Angie before, time after time, gripping her hair, harnessing her, controlling her, easing her legs, forcing inside, caressing her honey-pot, to the hilt, then air, hilt then air, over and over, like a flesh piston stretching her engine, eager to please, eager for an eruption, a mutual explosion on a sensual scale, with gripping and pulsing, sweating and moaning.........................
Then........................Relief....Huge Relief................as Angie eased off the gas, the built up town was upon us.
We had arrived..................
..............................................................................................
It was early morning and the streets of Chesley were deserted as we pulled up in a street down from the bank. On the way into the town we had been passed by fire engines, with their sirens blaring, heading for the station, pretending, for the sake of keeping the bank robbers in the dark, to be going to tackle the fire started by the exploding train carriage.
Robert quietly exited the car and looked round the corner at the bank on the opposite side of the street. It was surrounded by scaffolding as some external restoration was being carried out. Everything looked quiet. Quickly Robert returned to the police car where Angie quizzed him on what he had seen.
“Yes,” he answered. “Everything looks ok. The workmen have scaffolding up on the building, so we maybe able to gain access using it. Let’s go and find out.”
Stealthily they crept over the street. As they crouched by the building Robert felt Angie’s warm body touching his back. He mentally berated himself. He was on police business. He had to think of his companion and his own safety in case the whole robbery turned pear shaped.
As they carefully climbed up the scaffolding, Angie pointed up near the top of the building.
“It looks as if that window is partially open. Some incompetent has ignored our security guidelines regarding banks undergoing renovations. Scaffolding is useful to the villains.”
“It’s certainly helping us,” panted Robert as he pulled himself up another rung. “We are certainly going surprise the robbers. I wonder why I can’t see our back-up. I would have thought they would be here by now.”
“They’ll be here, never fear Robert and we’ll be able to provide them with intel from inside if and when we get through that window.” Angie assured him.
The window was open and both police officers slipped through it after opening it fully. They stepped into a dusty attic space and moved across to the door.
“Let’s hope it’s not locked,” whispered Angie.
The door was unlocked and Robert carefully opened it, waiting for creaks that might alert the robbery taking place below, but the door swung open noiselessly. Robert and Angie crept out onto a landing and began descending a wooden staircase that led to the lower floors. As they moved slowly down, fearful of making a noise, Robert wondered what awaited them below.
In the main vault James Pelham was lording it over his colleagues.
“Right come on, pull out the gold bullion and lay it over there!” he hissed at Gerald Pettigrew, who was sweating profusely.
“I am not used to manual work,” grunted the ex banker. “I have a bad back.”
“An equal share for an equal amount of labour,” John Carman growled nastily. “It’s time you worked off all that fat round your middle, Gerald!”
Blackie Burnett and Percy Wormesly carried more and more gold ingots out of the open safe that had been opened by the safe breaker. They laid them on pallets that were lying on the floor.
“I think it is time that we were making ourselves scarce,” said Pelham. “Push the button to call the lift Wormesly.”
Percy pushed a red button on the wall next to two large metal doors and a motor could be heard starting up. Within seconds the large doors parted and exposed a fork lift within the lift. This was a specially designed lift for handling heavy weights. It would be able to transport the fork lift plus one pallet of gold from the vault to the ground floor of the bank. John Carman climbed into the fork lift cab.
Carman looked as his watch. “How many more ingots are in there, Blackie?” he asked.
“That’s the last of them. We’d better get this bullion hauled away before someone gets suspicious.” Blackie grunted, as he swung the large safe door shut with a clang.
Up on the ground floor the pallets of gold were piling up as the fork lift driven by Carman brought up loads from the vault by the lift. As the last one emerged from the lift the criminals began opening the back doors of the bank. This was where two lorries sat awaiting loading with the gold.
From their vantage point Robert and Angie could see the whole operation. They were behind a door that opened on to the ground floor of the bank.
“Our back up must be here by now!” hissed Robert. “Why haven’t they broken in and arrested these villains?”
“Maybe they are outside and waiting to pounce,” said Angie. “It’ll be a fair cop when they grab them with the loot.”
For the next half an hour Carman drove pallet after pallet out to the lorries. As the last one was hoisted up, Robert pushed the door open and entered the ground floor.
“Something has gone wrong. The back up teams should have been here arresting them, I will have to alert them to the robbery and he reached for his whistle.
It was at that point Angie lashed out with her hand and knocked the whistle from Robert’s hand.
“You won’t do anything!” she snarled as she pushed Robert so hard he stumbled and almost fell. “Carman! Take this plonker out to Pelham!” Angie walked past Robert as John Carman stepped out of the fork lift cab and grabbed him. Robert swung his fist at the crook’s head and began to punch him in the stomach, but it was like hitting a sandbag, the man was heavily built. Carman just swung his own fist and hit Robert on the jaw knocking him out.
When Robert came to he was in the cab of one of the lorries carrying the gold. He was trussed up like a turkey but he could see that they were on the motorway. Blackie Burnett was at the wheel.
“Oh you’re awake?” asked Angie, sarcastically. She was sitting to his left and was drinking out of a can of Coke. “A bit of a surprise for you eh? No backup turning up and arresting anyone.”
“Angie,” said Robert. “We used to be close, how can you do this to me, of all people?”
“Actually Robert, it made it easier when me and the boys intercepted your call. One of the guys, Pettigrew I think, pretended to be your sergeant. The line was so bad you would have believed anything he said. You always were a bit of a prat, I just needed you for the humpy bumpy and like most males you were OK with that; but did I feel anything deeper for you?” She stopped and theatrically pretended to be thinking, then with a look of scorn on her face said, “Nah!”
As the miles rolled by Robert realised from spotting the overhead signs that they were heading for the coast. The robbery would have been discovered by now and all airports and major ports would have been warned to be on the lookout. So, he surmised it would have to be a little known place that had a small pier. This would allow them to offload the gold and escape to sea.
“Watch your speed!” Angie growled suddenly. “There’s the Old Bill.”
At the mention of his colleagues so close, Robert thought quickly and making a sudden decision raised his bound legs and kicked out at Blackie. The force of his attack centred on the driver’s face and temporarily stunned him. He swung the wheel of the lorry, it went up on its two outer wheels and the weight of the gold took over and spun the lorry over on its side. It squealed along the road as terrified drivers tried to get out of its path. Sadly Angie had failed to put her seat belt on and was flung through the windscreen. Thanks to being trussed up Robert was kept fairly rigid as the vehicle went into its death throes. All at once everything went silent round the stricken lorry. Robert thought that he had gone deaf, when all at once the air was full of police siren’s and shouting. Someone wrenched the lorry cab’s door open and peered inside.
“Are you ok mate,” asked a man wearing a cloth cap. “I’ll get some help for you.”
By the time that Robert had been freed, the westbound motorway had been closed and the police were in control. A blanket covered body lay on the road marking the final resting place of Angie. Robert felt a sadness for her as he had known her so well, or thought he had. Blackie was getting his wounds seen to by a paramedic.
The gold was still miraculously in the back of the lorry, all piled up covering the body of Mr. Gerald Pettigrew, who had been travelling in the back eager to be close to his nest egg. Unfortunately being totally squashed by his money was not in his plans.
As soon as Robert had been allowed to use the police radio, an all points bulletin went out and the second lorry was spotted entering the little seaside village of Walminton. The coastguard arrived in time to detain a large motor fishing vessel whose destination had been somewhere in the Frisian Islands, off the North West of the Netherlands, where no doubt they would have vanished.
Soon all members of the gang had been apprehended or were accounted for. Several months later, John Carman , Percy Wormesly and James Pelham were all found guilty at the High Court and sentenced to ten years apiece. Angie Kelly and Gerald Pettigrew were laid to rest in separate cemeteries by their relations and loved ones who were shocked to learn of their criminal dealings.
Robert Graves, Police Constable, was promoted to that of Sergeant and he and his wife and daughter were guests of her Majesty, the Queen, at
