I read this through quickly, feeling it was quite
inadequate; so inadequate that I had to add a note below my
name.
I will get in touch with you before long to say a better
good-bye. I will write or telephone you at your mother’s place.
It would have to do, I thought, as I reached for the
envelope. A feeling of urgency occupied my mind. I must get
off before she came down or the police arrived. I put the note
and cheque in the envelope and put the envelope on the desk
where she would find it
It was a nuisance having to leave like this. I would have
liked to have taken a rain-coat and overnight things, but I
couldn’t risk going upstairs again. Besides, I told myself, if the police were watching me, a handbag would arouse their
suspicions and they might make a quick arrest.
I glanced at my wrist-watch. I had been seven minutes
making my preparations. It was time to be off. I walked quietly down the garage, past the Jaguar. For a moment I hesitated beside it wondering if I should take it or not, then decided it would be too easily traced.
I opened one of the garage doors and walked into the
bright sunlight.
I pulled the door shut then paused to light a cigarette
while I looked out of the corner of my eye at the two policemen outside the sorting-office.
They studiously ignored me, so studiously that I knew at
once they had been told to ignore me. That could mean only
one thing: Rawson had already decided to have me shadowed, and the shadower was waiting for me somewhere out of sight
I walked at a fast pace towards Oxford Street. I didn’t
look back. My one concern was that Ann might come down to
the office and find the note and run after me. I wanted to get as far away from Eagle Street as I could before she
discovered the note.
A bus came along Oxford Street as I reached the corner of Eagle Street. I sprinted towards it and swung on board.
I looked back as soon as I sat down on one of the side
seats by the conductor’s platform. No one ran after me, but after a minute or so when I looked back again, I spotted a
police car about fifty yards in the rear, keeping pace with the
bus.
It wasn’t going to be easy to shake them off, I told
myself. If they lost me all they had to do would be to warn a police car in the district by short wave radio and they would be after me. Every policeman on beat or controlling the traffic
would be warned to look out for me. No, it wasn’t going to be
easy but I had been in more difficult spots during the war, and I was confident that I would be able to shake them off.
I bought a ticket to Hyde Park Corner and got off the bus
by the underground and went down to the booking office. I
was pretty sure a detective, possibly two, had jumped out of
the police car as soon as I was out of sight, and was coming
after me.
I paused to buy a newspaper at a kiosk, then bought a
ticket to Knightsbridge and went down to the trains.
There were only three or four people on the platform,
and I walked to the far end and sat down on the wooden
bench against the wall.
I looked up the platform, but no one came to join those
already waiting. I guessed the detectives were waiting just out of sight. The time to spot them would be when the train came in.
I opened my newspaper, my eyes going to the Stop Press.
MAIL ROBBERY
Early this morning, a mail van was ambushed in Wood Lane, and three masked men got away with
£300,000 worth of industrial diamonds en route from the Eagle Street Sorting-Office to Northolt Airfield. A Post Office Guard, attempting to foil this biggest mail grab of all time, was ruthlessly shot to death. Scotland Yard anticipates an early arrest.
£300,000! The size of the sum stunned me for a moment.
No wonder Dix had taken such elaborate precautions.
No wonder he hadn’t hesitated to commit murder. For a man
in the know, industrial diamonds were as good as ready cash.
It would be to his advantage to get the diamonds out of the
country where they would be worth considerably more than
their face value in the black market of foreign currency.
I wondered it he planned to leave the country. For all I
knew he might already have left in a chartered plane and was
at this minute somewhere in Europe. If he had gone, then he
was lost to me.
What was my first move to be?
Before I could go after him I had to shake off the police.
When I had succeeded in shaking them off I realized the hunt
for me would be immediately intensified. Rawson wouldn’t give me a second chance to slip through his fingers. If they caughtup with me a second time, they would arrest me.
I had to get hold of a change of clothing. I had to alter my
appearance so I wouldn’t be easily recognized. I thought of
Berry’s flat: 3a Queen’s Avenue. By now Berry would have
gone into hiding with the rest of the gang. The chances were
he had left some clothes in the flat. He was about my build. If I could get to his flat without being seen I was sure I could fit myself out well enough to avoid detection.
I folded the newspaper and got to my feet. I could hear
the train approaching. I walked slowly along the platform and
joined the four other people who were waiting.
As the train banged and clattered out of the tunnel and
swept along the platform, I saw a tall, heavily-built man move
out from the archway leading to the emergency stairs.
I looked closely at him, making an attempt to disguise my
scrutiny. I wanted to be sure I should recognise him again.
He was wearing a brown suit and slouch hat, and I knew
by the way he held himself and by his studied casualness as
he moved over to the train that ha was a police officer.
He got into a compartment next to mine.
I had to play my hand carefully, I told myself. There was no question of making a bolt for it when I reached the station. I had to lose the detective in such a way that he couldn’t be sure whether I had deliberately given him the slip or whether he had lost me by his own carelessness. If he suspected I was trying to get away, he would probably arrest me.
I got out of the train at Knightsbridge and walked quickly along the platform to the escalator. I rode up on it, and as I was nearing the top I glanced back.
The detective was halfway up the escalator, about ten
yards behind me. He was leaning against the moving rail,
looking at a newspaper.
Knightsbridge was almost deserted. I realized I had
picked a bad time to play cops and robbers. Sunday morning,
with its deserted streets and shut shops, wasn’t like a week
day.
I decided to wait until I got close to Queen’s Avenue
before I made my first move. I walked briskly towards
Brompton Road, turned up Exhibition Road that stretched long and deserted to Hyde Park.
I was now within a few minutes walk of Queen’s Avenue.
I could hear the detective following me, but I resisted the temptation to look back. I could tell by the sound of his footfalls that he must be at least fifty yards behind me.
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