As he wheeled the machine to the entrance to
the garage, he looked back over his shoulder.
“And good luck to you, too, Mr. Collins.”
And I’ll need it, I thought. How I’ll need it!
“Thanks, Tim.”
The miserable, dejected look on his face made me feel
bad. We had got along together, and I liked him, but he was
too dangerous now. He had to go.
I watched him push his way through the crowd, mount
his bicycle and pedal away.
Now I had to cook up some explanation for Ann.
I went to the foot of the stairs.
“Ann?”
She came out on to the landing. Sunlight coming through
the landing window fell directly on her. I was startled to see how pale and anxious she looked.
“I think you must be right, Ann, Tim says there has been
a hold-up.”
“Yes.”
“Well, thank goodness Bill wasn’t mixed up in it. Bit of
luck him being called home like that.”
“Yes.”
We stood looking at each other.
“It never rains but it pours,” I said, making an effort to
sound casual. “Tim has had to go home. His father’s ill.”
“Ill, Harry? I’m sorry. Is he bad?”
“He said something about a heart attack.”
“Has he gone now?”
“Yes. I told him to take the week off.” I began to move
back into the office. “I think I’ll shut up for the day, Ann.
With all these crowds outside there won’t be any business.”
“All right, Harry.”
She turned and went into the kitchen. I listened to her
moving about. My hands were damp and I felt a little sick.
The lies were piling up now. I could see nothing but lies ahead of me: lies to Ann, to the police, to Bill.
“Mr. Collins?”
I turned quickly, my heart skipping a beat. A squat, red-
faced man in a shabby brown suit and a slouch hat pulled
down over his eyes was standing in the office doorway.
“That’s right.” I got to my feet “Sorry, I didn’t see you
come in.”
“That’s okay, Mr. Collins. My names Norton: Evening
Mail. I wanted a word with you about the robbery across the
way.”
I felt a cold chill run up my spine.
“What robbery?”
“Haven’t you heard? There’s been a hold-up of a mail
van. The van left the sorting-office over the way about half-
past three this morning. It was ambushed off Shepherd’s Bush
on its way to Northolt Airfield. It’s big news. They got away with a lot of industrial diamonds, and one of the Post Office guards was killed.”
“Killed?”
“That’s right. Must have been quite a scrap. Two of the
bandits were laid out, and one of the guards was killed.”
“One of the guards was killed?” I repeated stupidly; my
mouth was so dry the words came out in a whisper.
“Yes. Now, look, Mr. Collins, you’re right opposite the
sorting-office. I was wondering if you saw anything
suspicious.”
“I didn’t see anything.”
One of the guards was killed! If I hadn’t got Bill out of the
way, it would have been him!
“The way I figure it, Mr. Collins,” Norton went on, “the
bandits must have been watching the sorting-office for some
time. The van left at an unusual hour, and yet they were
waiting for it. That must mean they had someone watching for
the van to leave. Do you happen to remember seeing anyone
or a car even hanging about Eagle Street during the past few days?”
“No. I don’t remember seeing anyone.”
I don’t know how I managed to sit still or even speak. I
wasn’t only involved in a hold-up, I was now involved in a
murder!
“Think a moment,” Norton urged. “Are you sure you
didn’t notice anyone? Didn’t you hear something unusual
around half-past three this morning?”
I sat looking down at my desk. After a long pause, I said,
“I’m sorry, but I don’t remember seeing anything suspicious or
hearing anything either.”
He let out a long, sighing breath of disgust.
“Oh well, it can’t be helped. I thought I might strike lucky
with you, seeing the position you have here. Never mind. Most
of my work consists of asking questions and getting the wrong
answers. I’d better have a talk with the other people down the
street. They may have seen something. Thanks, Mr. Collins,
for giving me your time. If you do remember anything you think
might help me, give me a ring, will you?” He put his card on
the desk “We’ll make it worth your while. So long, and keep
thinking, won’t you?”
I didn’t say anything. I just sat still, looking beyond him at the crowd standing in front of the sorting-office.
“By the way, that young fella I saw leaving just now.”
Norton said. “Would he have seen anything, do you think?”
I kept a grip on myself with an effort.
“No. He’s not working here.”
“Oh, isn’t he? I imagined he was. My mistake.”
“My wife and I run this place.”
“Could I see her for a moment?”
“She didn’t see anything, Mr. Norton. She would have
told me if she had. She’s busy right now.”
“Well, okay. Talk to her, will you? You never know. She
might remember something. Give me a ring if she does. So
long, Mr. Collins.”
“So long,” I said.
I watched him walk slowly down the length of the garage.
I could tell by the way he held himself and by his slowness that he wasn’t satisfied, and that his mind was busy. He suddenly snapped his fingers, turned and came back.
“I knew there was something. Weren’t you a friend of
Guard Yates? I fancy one of the blokes over at the sorting-
office said something about you and Yates being pals.”
I looked at him, and a sudden cold wind seemed to blow
through my brain.
‘”What do you mean?”
“The guard who was killed,” Norton said patiently. “Guard
Bill Yates. Weren’t you a friend of his?”
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