The World in My Pocket

I

The cabin consisted of a bedroom, a sitting room, a tiny kitchen and a shower cabinet. It was pleasantly furnished with twin beds in the bedroom and two lounging chairs and settee in the sitting room. With a little improvisation, it was possible to sleep four there.

It had the advantage of being the most isolated cabin along the lake. It was the honeymoon cabin, the man in charge told Ginny with a knowing smile. They were lucky he could offer it.

The last couple who had had it only moved out last night. The man — his name was Hadfield — had got into the Buick with Ginny and Kitson and had directed them to the cabin. From time to time he glanced at Kitson, wondering why he looked so tense and why he scarcely spoke a word. He thought the guy was probably nervous, facing his first night as a husband, although why any man should feel nervous with a girl as pretty as this one, Hadfield couldn’t understand.

The girl was nervous too, but that was to be expected. All nice girls, Hadfield thought sentimentally, were nervous on their honeymoon and he couldn’t do enough for her. He showed her where she could park the caravan, right beside the cabin, and pointed out the boat house where they could hire a boat if they wanted one. He said they wouldn’t be disturbed.

‘Folks here are pretty sociable, Mrs. Harrison,’ he told her after he had unlocked the cabin and had shown her where everything was kept. ‘They drop in on each other, but I guess you two would like a little privacy, anyway for a day or two,’ and he winked at Kitson, who stared stonily at him. ‘I’ll pass the word around. You won’t be bothered until you are good and ready.’

There had been nothing the four of them could do until dark.

That had been the worst period of this eventful day for them.

Ginny had gone into the bedroom and had lain down on the bed. After a while she had dropped off into a sleep of exhaustion.

Kitson had remained on guard, smoking and keeping an eye on the caravan. Bleck and Gypo had been forced to remain in the caravan with the dead bodies of Morgan and Thomas for company. It had been a bad period.

When it was dark, Bleck and Gypo had come into the cabin. Gypo was in a bad way. He flopped into an armchair and hid his face in his hands. He had a big bruise on the side of his jaw where Bleck had hit him. There had been a time, when driving up to Fawn Lake, when Gypo had tried to break out of the caravan. He had started to yell and beat on the walls of the caravan. He had behaved as if he had gone off his head.

Bleck had had to hit him pretty hard. There was no other way of controlling him. When Gypo had come to, he had sat on the floor of the caravan, silent and limp. The eight long hours Bleck and he remained in the caravan, waiting for darkness with the windows shut tight to keep out the flies, had been an experience that neither of them was likely to forget.

Bleck and Kitson had gone into the dark wood to find a suitable place to bury Morgan and Thomas. Among the tools that Gypo had brought with him was a shovel, and finally, when they had found the spot, they took it in turns to dig.

They worked in silence and by the light of the moon. It was nervy work, because they could see boats out on the moonlit lake; they could hear voices in the distance, and once they had to crouch down, their hearts pounding, as a couple of lovers passed close to them.

It was after midnight before they patted the ground flat and carefully covered it with leaves and dead branches, and by that time, both of them were so exhausted they could scarcely get back to the cabin.

They found Ginny in an armchair, her .38 in her lap while she watched Gypo, who had fallen asleep on the settee.

Bleck shut the door. Then he crossed over to the second armchair and dropped into it.

Kitson sat on an upright chair. His face was the colour of cold mutton fat and there was a muscle in his cheek that kept twitching.

‘Any trouble?’ Bleck asked Ginny.

The girl was pale and there were dark smudges under her eyes. She looked older and less attractive, but her voice was steady when she said, ‘No, except he says he wants to go home.’

‘As soon as he’s opened the truck,’ Bleck said, ‘He can go to hell for all I care.’

At the sound of the voices, Gypo stirred and opened his eyes. He blinked around, then seeing the three watching him, he swung his legs off the settee and sat up, his face tightening, his hands beginning to shake.

‘Ed. I’m going to quit,’ he said, the words spilling out of his mouth. ‘You can have my share of the money. I’ve been thinking about it. I don’t want to have anything more to do with this job. I want you to have my share and let me go. If it hadn’t been for Frank, I wouldn’t have touched the job. He persuaded me. You three carry on if you want to, but I’m going back to the workshop.’

Bleck studied him.

‘I don’t think you are.’

Gypo rubbed his hands on his knees, sweat making his fat face glisten in the shaded light, ‘Now, look, Ed, be reasonable. I’m giving you my share. That’s a lot of money. I just want to go home.’

‘I don’t think you’re going,’ Bleck said in the same flat voice.

Gypo looked imploringly at Kitson.

‘Listen, kid, this job’s no good. We didn’t want to do it. Frank talked us into it. Let’s you and me go. These two can have all the money. You and me can work together. We can make a good living. You work with me in the workshop. We’ll get along fine together. honestly, we will.’

‘Skip it,’ Bleck said softly. ‘You’re staying and you’re opening the truck.’

Gypo shook his head.

‘No, Ed, I’ve got to go. I haven’t the nerve for this job. I’ll tell you how to open the truck. You and the girl can do it once you know how, but I’m not staying. There’s five hundred thousand dollars extra for you and for her. I give you my share. The kid will give her his share. We’ll go.’

Bleck looked at Kitson.

‘Do you want to quit?’ he asked.

Morgan’s violent end had stunned Kitson, but he was now recovering. The nightmare business of burying the two bodies had stiffened his fibre rather than undermined it. He knew he had reached the point of no return. He had everything to gain now and only his life to lose. Whether he wanted to or not, there was no question of quitting.

‘No,’ he said.

‘Listen, kid, you don’t know what you are saying,’ Gypo said desperately. ‘You’ve got to quit. You’ve got to come with me. It’s no good thinking you’re going to get away with this. It’s better to quit now. You come with me.’

‘I’m not quitting,’ Kitson said, his eyes on Ginny.

Gypo drew in a shuddering breath.

‘I am going,’ he said. ‘This is no good. Three men have died. No money is worth that. Frank said he was going to put the world in his pocket. Look what’s happened to him. He’s in a hole in the ground. Can’t you see? Can’t any of you see? It’s no good.’ He got to his feet. ‘I’m going home.’

Bleck reached forward and took the .38 that was lying in Ginny’s lap. He pointed the gun at Gypo.

‘You’re going to open the truck, Gypo. If you don’t do it, I’ll kill you and bury you out there in the woods.’

The final, cold note in his voice convinced Gypo that he meant what he said.

For a long moment Gypo stood there, staring at the gun, then slowly, with a gesture of hopeless despair, he sat down.

‘Okay,’ he said, his face sagging, ‘you force me to stay, but I warn you nothing good will come of this. Nothing.’

Bleck put the gun down.

‘Have you quite finished sounding off?’ he asked.

‘I have nothing more to say,’ Gypo said, hanging his head. ‘I have warned you. Remember that. Nothing good will come of it.’

‘Well, now,’ Bleck said, looking at the other two, ‘we’ve got that settled. We’re now four. That means we each will have fifty thousand dollars more than we reckoned to have. We divide Frank’s share between us. We go on with the plan. Kitson, you and Ginny, play out the honeymoon angle. Gypo and I work in the caravan. As soon as we get the money, we split up. All agree?’

The other two nodded.

‘Okay.’ Bleck got to his feet, crossed the room and removed the key from the lock. He put it in his pocket. ‘Well, I’ve had all I want for tonight. I’m going to sleep.’ He went over to Gypo and gave him a nudge. ‘Take a chair, fatso. I reckon I’m entitled to the settee.’ He sat on the settee as Gypo moved wearily to the armchair. As he kicked off his shoes, he said to Kitson, ‘There’s a second bed in the other room for you, bridegroom. Help yourself.’

Kitson was too exhausted to rise to the bait. He stretched out in the armchair.

Ginny went into the bedroom and shut the door. They heard the key turn.

‘Tough luck, bridegroom,’ Bleck sneered and turned off the light. ‘Looks like she doesn’t fancy you.’

‘Oh, shut up!’ Kitson growled.

II

Soon after seven o’clock the next morning, Ginny came into the sitting room and pulled the blinds, waking the three men.

Cursing, Bleck sat up abruptly, his hand groping for his gun.

Stupefied with sleep, Kitson raised his head and blinked at Ginny, as she walked into the kitchen.

Gypo, groaning with stiffness, leaned forward to nurse his sore jaw.

Ginny called, ‘It’s time you got under cover. There are people already on the lake.’

Bleck grunted and, getting up, he went into the bathroom. He came out ten minutes later, shaved and showered.

‘Go ahead and clean up,’ he said to Gypo. ‘You begin to smell like a polecat.’

Gypo looked dolefully at him and then went into the bathroom. By the time he had taken a shower, Ginny had carried a breakfast tray of coffee, eggs, ham and orange juice into the sitting room.

‘You’d better have it in the caravan,’ she said, thrusting the tray into Bleck’s hands.

An ugly gleam showed in his eyes.

‘Look, baby, I’m giving the orders around here now,’ he said, taking the tray. ‘I’m in charge of this outfit.’

Her eyes showed contemptuous amusement.

‘Nobody’s in charge,’ she said. ‘Even Morgan wasn’t. We work according to the plan. It was agreed you and Gypo should only come into the cabin at night, and you were to keep out of sight during the day. If you don’t want to stick to the plan, say so.’

‘Okay, smartie,’ Bleck said. ‘So we eat in the caravan. Sounds like you’re anxious to be alone with your boyfriend.’

Ginny turned and walked back into the kitchen.

‘You lay off her,’ Kitson said, getting to his feet.

‘Aw, button up!’ Bleck snarled, ‘go out there and see if anyone’s around, then open up the caravan.’

Kitson hesitated, then he went out into the sunshine. He looked to right and left, satisfied himself there was no one watching him, then he called to Bleck and opened the back of the caravan.

Bleck and Gypo got in.

‘You’re going to have it soft, plough boy,’ Bleck said, his eyes glittering. ‘You make hay while the sun shines.’

Kitson jerked the lever savagely, shutting the two men in the caravan, then he returned to the cabin.

Ginny was cooking more ham.

He went into the bathroom, took a shower, shaved, then put on a sweat shirt and a pair of cotton jeans. As he came into the sitting room, Ginny was putting a plate of ham and eggs on the table.

‘That looks good,’ he said awkwardly. ‘Is that for you or – or for me?’

‘I don’t eat breakfast,’ she said curtly, and pouring a cup of coffee, she carried it to the armchair and sat down, her back half turned to him.

Kitson sat down. He found he was hungry, and he began to eat, thinking how well the ham was cooked and the eggs were just as he liked them.

‘I guess we’d better get out after this,’ he said. ‘We might take a boat on the lake or something.’

‘Yes.’

He was disappointed that she sounded so curt.

‘It’s going to be pretty rugged for those two in the caravan,’ he said, hoping to get her talking. ‘There’s not much shade out there. By noon it’s going to be hotter than a stove.’

‘That’s their look out,’ she said indifferently.

‘Yeah. Do you think Gypo will open the truck?’

She made an impatient movement.

‘How should I know?’

‘Well, if he doesn’t, what are we going to do?’

‘Why ask me? Ask Bleck if you can’t work it out yourself.’

She got up abruptly, carrying her coffee cup and went into the kitchen.

Kitson felt his face burning. He suddenly didn’t want to go on with his breakfast, and grimacing, he finished his coffee, stacked the plates and carried them into the kitchen.

‘Look, I didn’t mean to get on your nerves,’ he said as he laid the things on the table. ‘But we’ve got to be seen around together. Couldn’t we be a little less unfriendly? After all,’ he stopped, floundering.

‘For God’s sake, go into the other room and let me alone,’ she said, her back turned to him; her voice was shaking.

Shocked by her tone, Kitson moved around so he could see her. It was then he realized how pale and drawn she looked. Maybe she wasn’t as tough as she made out, he thought. This horrible business of yesterday could have given her a hell of a jolt, as it had him.

‘Sure,’ he said. ‘Sorry,’ and he went into the sitting room and sat down, running his fingers through his hair. After a long moment of silence, he heard her crying. He didn’t move. The soft, scarcely heard sound underlined to him the hopelessness of this job. If she could cry over it, there could be no hope.

He sat there waiting and smoking and trying not to listen for some minutes, then abruptly she came out of the kitchen, and before he had a chance of seeing her face, she went into the bedroom.

Again there was a long pause, then she came to the doorway.

‘Let’s go,’ she said curtly.

He glanced at her.

Her make-up was flawless. Only the unnatural glitter in her eyes and the studied way she held herself hinted that she was under a strain.

He got to his feet.

‘We’d better get a newspaper,’ he said, careful not to look directly at her.

‘Yes.’

She walked across the sitting room to the door. She was wearing a lightweight sweater and a pair of bottle-green slacks. The combination showed off her neat, feminine figure as no other get-up could.

Kitson followed her into the sunshine.

As they stepped out of the cabin, the full heat of the morning sun struck them, and both looked across at the caravan that stood in the direct sunlight: both of them realized the heat that must be accumulating in the wooden structure.

They moved on, walking side by side, in silence.

There was a path through the woods that led to Hadfield’s office. Next to his office was a grocery store. As they came out of the shadows and into view of the wooden building, Ginny slipped her hand into Kitson’s. The feel of her cold flesh sent a tingle up his spine, and he looked quickly at her.

She gave him a ghost of a smile.

‘Sorry about the scene,’ she said. ‘My nerves are bad. I’m all right now.’

‘Sure,’ he said. ‘I know how you must be feeling’ and he tightened his grip on her hand.

Hadfield came out of his office and beamed on them as they came up to him ‘Well, Mr. Harrison,’ he said and thrust out his hand. ‘I guess you’re a happy man. Don’t tell me. I can see it on your face. Me. I guess if I were Mrs. Harrison’s husband, I’d be as happy as you are.’

Ginny laughed as Kitson shook Hadfield’s hand awkwardly.

‘Why, thanks, Mr. Hadfield. That’s a real compliment,’ she said. ‘We’ve come for the newspapers. Are there any?’

‘Newspapers?’ Hadfield lifted his bushy eyebrows. ‘Honeymooners shouldn’t want to be bothered about newspapers. Sure, I’ve got this morning’s lot. I’ll tell you straight away, the only news of interest is this truck robbery.’ His good-humoured face split into a grin. ‘Between you and me, I hand it to those fellows. They’ve walked off with a cool million bucks. Imagine! A million bucks in cash! No one knows where they’ve got to or how they did it, but that’s what they’ve done. That truck with a lock on it the best modern brains could think up, and stuffed with dollars, has just vanished into thin air! It’s a knockout! Nothing like it has ever happened before.’ He pushed his hat to the back of his head, grinning at them. ‘When I read the account in the papers, I said to myself, that’s the smartest thing that’s ever happened around these parts for as long as I can remember. Vanished! Imagine! A truck that size with all the police and half the Army searching every road within a hundred miles of here, and still no sign of it.’

He went into his office to get the papers.

Ginny and Kitson exchanged glances.

There was a pause, then Hadfield came out with four newspapers in his hand.

‘Maybe you don’t want them all,’ he said. ‘If you want the latest news take the Herald.’

‘I’ll take them all,’ Kitson said in a strangled voice. ‘What have we got to lose?’

He paid Hadfield for the papers and took them from him.

‘You quite happy where you are, Mrs. Harrison?’ Hadfield asked. ‘Nothing I can do for you?’

‘We’re fine, thanks,’ Ginny said. ‘There’s nothing.’

While Kitson scanned the headlines, Ginny went into the store.

The front pages of all the newspapers concentrated on the truck robbery. There were pictures of the truck and the guard and the driver. The Army headquarters were offering a thousand dollar reward for any information that would lead to the finding of the truck.

There was a hint from the police that the driver of the truck might be one of the members of the gang, since there was no trace of him.

While Kitson read, his mouth a little dry, Fred Bradford, the man who had offered help on the road up to Fawn Lake the previous day, came up to get his newspaper.

‘Hello there, Mr. Harrison,’ he said. ‘I see you’ve got your papers. Well, how do you like it here? Pretty good, huh?’

Kitson nodded.

‘It sure is.’

‘You reading about this truck robbery? I got it on the radio this morning. They seem to think the truck must be hidden in the woods around here. They’re organizing search parties. Every road is being checked from the air, and yet there’s still no sign of it.’

‘Yeah,’ Kitson said, folding the newspapers.

‘It slays me to think they could have kept it hidden even as long as this with so many guys hunting for it. Looks like the driver’s one of them, doesn’t it? That poor guard — what’s his name? Dirkson. Well, I reckon they should look after his widow.’

Hadfield, listening, said, ‘That smash was a fake so they say. It means a woman is working with the gang. The guard radioed back to the Agency just before he was killed. They’re checking on this guy Thomas, the driver, now to see if there was a woman in his life besides his wife.’

‘Well, I wouldn’t mind having the reward,’ Bradford said. ‘My kid says he’s going to take a walk through the woods. He kids himself he’ll find the truck.’ He laughed. ‘It’ll get him out of the way for a while. I’ve never known such a restless kid. He drives my good lady nuts.’

Hadfield shook his head.

‘They wouldn’t bring the truck here,’ he said. ‘There are too many people using these woods. I reckon if they’ve hidden it anywhere, it’ll be up at Fox Wood. Very few people get up there and it’s well off the beaten track.’

‘Yeah, but don’t tell my kid that,’ Bradford said. ‘That’s too far for him to go wandering off.’

Ginny came out of the store, carrying a sack of groceries.

‘Morning, Mrs. Harrison,’ Bradford said, lifting his hat. ‘So you got here all right?’

‘We got here,’ Ginny said smiling. She handed the sack to Kitson, then linked her arm through his, leaning against him, smiling at the two men who looked approvingly at her.

‘That’s the idea,’ Hadfield said. ‘Make use of your man, now you’ve got him. My wife says all a man is fit for is to carry parcels.’

Ginny looked up at Kitson.

‘I think you’re fit for many more things than carrying parcels, honey,’ she said.

As Kitson flushed, the two men laughed.

‘That’s what I like to hear,’ Hadfield said. ‘I’d like my good lady to hear that.’

‘Can we take a boat out, Mr. Hadfield?’ Ginny asked.

‘Why, sure. Just the right time now before it gets too hot. You know where the boat house is? You see Joe there. He’ll fix it for you.’

‘Well, then I guess we’ll get along,’ Ginny said.

Bradford said, ‘Any time you feel like a little company, Mr. Harrison, we’re at cabin 20; about a quarter of a mile from yours. Be glad to see you.’

Hadfield dug his elbow into Bradford’s ribs.

‘They’re on their honeymoon,’ he said. ‘Whose company do you imagine they want except their own?’

Laughing, Ginny tugged at Kitson’s arm, and they moved off down the path, arm-in-arm, her head against his shoulder.

The two men looked after them and then they glanced at each other a little ruefully.

‘I guess that guy is lucky,’ Hadfield said. ‘What a pretty thing she is! Between you and me, I wouldn’t mind changing places with him.’

Bradford grinned a little furtively.

‘No comment,’ he said, ‘but I know just what you mean.’

When Kitson and Ginny got back to the cabin, Ginny left the sack of groceries in the kitchen while Kitson, after making sure no one was around, tapped on the caravan window.

Red faced and sweating, Bleck pushed up the window.

‘What is it?’ he snarled. ‘Is it hot in here! The goddamn flies are driving us crazy! We can’t even leave this window open. What do you want?’

‘Got the papers for you,’ Kitson said and pushed the papers through the window. ‘Anything you want?’

‘No! Get the hell away from here!’ Bleck snapped and slammed down the window.

He went around to the back of the truck where Gypo sat on a stool they had taken from the cabin, his ear pressed to the door of the truck, his fingers on the dial.

The heat in the caravan was insufferable, and Bleck had stripped off his coat and shirt; his hairy chest was running with sweat.

He watched Gypo for a few seconds, then shrugging, he sat on the floor and began to read the papers. A half an hour later, he threw the papers aside, and got up to see how Gypo was getting on.

Gypo sat still, his face congested, his eyes closed, listening intently, his fingers just moving the dial.

‘Sweet suffering Pete!’ Bleck exploded. ‘Do you reckon to do that for the next ten days?’

Gypo started and opened his eyes.

‘Be quiet!’ he said angrily. ‘How can I work if you keep talking?’

‘If I don’t get some air soon I’ll bust a gut,’ Bleck said, wiping his face with the back of his hand. ‘Look, can’t we fix this curtain to keep the flies out and open the window?’

‘You fix it,’ Gypo said. ‘If you want me to open this truck, leave me alone.’

Bleck glared at him, then he went to the tool cupboard and took out a box of thumb tacks and a hammer. He nailed the curtain tightly to the window frame, then raised the window through the curtain.

He looked out on to the stretch of lake, seeing Ginny and Kitson embarking in a rowing boat. A spurt of jealous anger ran through him as Kitson rowed the boat away from the landing stage.

‘That bum’s got it easy!’ he burst out. ‘I should have had that job! There he goes.’

Gypo put his head around the side of the truck.

‘Will you pipe down!’ he said shrilly. ‘How can I work?’

‘Okay, okay, okay,’ Bleck snarled. ‘Quit yelling at me!’

Gypo wiped his aching fingers on the seat of his trousers and stared at the dial. So far he hadn’t heard one tumbler fall into place. He could sit there, he thought, despairingly, turning the dial for days without getting anywhere: maybe he’d never get anywhere.

‘I’ve got to take a rest, I haven’t any more feeling in my hand.’

He came and stood by the open window, drawing in deep breaths of the fresh air that was now beginning to circulate in the caravan.

‘Isn’t there any other way of opening it?’ Bleck demanded, his eyes still on the boat that was now moving through the water quickly under Kitson’s powerful strokes.

‘I told Frank it would be tough,’ Gypo said. ‘Maybe I’ll never open it.’

‘Yeah?’ Bleck stared at him. ‘You’d better open it, Gypo. You hear me? You’d better open it.’

The menacing gleam in his eyes made Gypo flinch.

‘I can’t work miracles,’ he muttered. ‘Maybe no one can open it.’

‘You’d better work a miracle,’ Bleck said savagely. ‘Go on! Get going! The longer you work at it, the quicker you’ll be! Get going!’

Gypo went back to the dial, sat down, pressed his ear to the door and began once more to move the dial, listening for a tumbler to fall.

By dusk, Gypo was exhausted. He sat on the stool, leaning against the door, making no attempt to move the dial. Seeing the distress on his face and how haggard he looked, Bleck let him alone.

Gypo had had only an hour’s break in twelve long, hot hours.

He had succeeded in dropping one of the tumblers, and he guessed he had at least another five to find. But he had made a start, and Bleck was feeling more optimistic. Maybe Gypo would find two of the tumblers tomorrow. Maybe they would have the door open by the end of the week.

When it was dark enough, Kitson let them out and they hurried over to the cabin.

Ginny had prepared a meal of pork tenderloins with sweet potatoes and she had baked an apple pie. The men ate hungrily. Every now and then Bleck shot a scowling glance at Kitson. It infuriated him to see Kitson’s face was sunburned, underlining the fact that he had been out in the open all day.

Gypo brightened when he saw what was on his plate, and he ate with gusto. Towards the end of the meal, his fat face lost its look of fatigue and resigned hopelessness.

The meal over, Bleck moved to an armchair, lit a cigarette and looked at the other three.

‘Well, we’ve made some progress today,’ he said. ‘From now on one of us has to stay with the caravan every night. We can’t take the risk of someone seeing the caravan and taking a look through the window or trying to break in. This’ll be your job, Kitson. You’re having it pretty soft during the day. You can have it a little rough during the night.’

Kitson shrugged. He didn’t care.

This day had been a good one for him. Ginny had shown signs of relaxing with him. Although they had kept to impersonal topics she seemed ready to talk to him and she was much less hard. He had rowed her around the lake during the morning and had taken her swimming during the afternoon.

Whenever they met anyone, she always slipped her arm through his, and this pleased him.

During the afternoon when they had been lying side by side in the sun, after a swim, he in trunks and she in a one-piece white costume, she had suddenly moved over to him and had rested her face against his shoulder, her arm across his chest, and for a moment he had thought he had succeeded in breaking down her final reserve only to realize that two other people had come down on to the beach and seeing them lying like that had moved away, leaving them on their own.

He had been careful not to move, hoping she would remain like that, but of course she hadn’t. As soon as the two had gone, she lifted her head and looked at him.

‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I didn’t mean to embarrass you.’

‘You didn’t,’ Kitson said. ‘I liked it.’

She laughed, sitting up.

‘I dare say you did. I’m going to have another swim,’ and jumping to her feet, she ran down to the lake side.

Kitson remained where he was, watching her.

Yes, she was relaxing with him all right. He felt then for the first time that he might have a chance with her. He realized this request of Bleck’s for him to guard the caravan at night was a reasonable one. Anyone snooping around in the dark and taking it into his head to break into the caravan could blow their whole plan sky high.

‘Okay,’ he said, pushing back his chair, ‘I’ll get out there now.’

Expecting opposition and surprised, Bleck watched him leave. When the door shut behind him, Bleck said, ‘Suppose Gypo and me have the beds, baby, and you use the settee? We are the ones doing the work and we need our sleep. That okay with you?’

Ginny shrugged indifferently.

‘Oh, sure.’

Bleck stared at her.

‘Unless maybe Gypo takes the settee.’

Ginny looked up sharply.

‘I’ll take the settee, thank you,’ she said curtly.

Bleck grinned.

‘Suit yourself.’ He got up and took a deck of cards from the overmantel and began to shuffle the cards. ‘Want a game of gin?’

‘No,’ Ginny said. ‘I’m going for a walk. I’d like this room when I get back.’

Sensing what was in the air, Gypo watched and listened uneasily.

‘Sure,’ Bleck said, still grinning. ‘Hey, Gypo, let’s you and me go into the bedroom. We can use the bed for a table.’

Gypo got up and went into the bedroom.

‘It’s all yours, baby,’ Bleck said. ‘How did you enjoy your day with the plough boy? Fallen for him yet?’

Ginny leaned back in her chair, her eyes contemptuous.

‘Is that what I’m supposed to do?’

‘Well, you never know. I suppose there must be a few girls who would fall for him. He’s fallen for you.’

She got up and walked over to the cabin door.

Bleck eyed her.

‘You and me, baby, could make a team. Why not think about it?’ he said as she opened the door.

‘Oh, drop dead,’ she said without even bothering to look at him. She went out into the darkness and closed the door after her. An ugly gleam in his eyes, Bleck hesitated. He wanted to go after her and teach her she couldn’t talk that way to him, but he knew Kitson would come out of the caravan, and he wasn’t ready yet for a show down with him.

Shrugging angrily, he went into the bedroom where Gypo was sitting on the bed, nervously clenching and unclenching his hands.

‘Look, Ed,’ he said, ‘lay off the girl. We’ve got enough trouble without having woman trouble as well.’

‘Aw, shut up!’ Bleck snarled, and sitting on the bed, he began to deal the cards.

Around eleven o’clock, they heard Ginny come in, and after a few minutes, the shower running.

Bleck crushed out his cigarette and scooped up the cards on the bed.

‘We’ll hit the sack,’ he said. ‘We should be out in that box before light.’

Gypo was ready enough for bed, and within ten minutes, the light out, he began to snore.

Bleck lay staring into the darkness, listening. He could hear Ginny moving about in the sitting room, then after a few minutes he heard the light switch click off.

Bleck believed in direct methods when dealing with women.

The gradual approach was in his opinion a waste of time.

He threw aside the sheet, slid silently out of bed, and went to the bedroom door. He paused to satisfy himself that Gypo was heavily asleep, then he turned the door handle gently, stepped into the dark sitting room, then closed the bedroom door behind him.

Almost immediately the light went on, and Ginny half sat up.

She was wearing pale blue pyjamas and she looked very desirable to Bleck, who grinned at her as he walked across the room and paused by the side of the settee, looking down at her.

‘I thought I’d keep you company, baby,’ he said. ‘Move over.’

Ginny remained motionless, her sea-green eyes completely expressionless.

‘Get out!’ she said softly.

‘Come on, honey,’ Bleck said and sat on the edge of the settee. ‘Don’t be that way. I’ve got plans for you and me. When this job’s over and we’ve got the dough, we’ll go places together. I’ll take you to London and Paris. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?’

‘I said get out!’ the girl repeated, and it angered Bleck that she seemed so calm and unafraid.

‘Maybe I can persuade you,’ he said and his hands closed over her shoulders, and then he felt something hard dig into his chest.

He looked down quickly and his heart skipped a beat as he saw the .38 automatic pressing into him.

‘Take your hands off me slowly,’ Ginny said and there was a steely quality in her voice that scared Bleck. ‘Slowly or I’ll kill you.’

Slowly and cautiously, his mouth dry, Bleck took his hands off her shoulders and lifted them. He had a horrible feeling as he looked into her eyes that he was only a heartbeat away from death.

‘Now get up,’ she went on. ‘Slowly; keep your hands like that.’

Slowly, he got up and backed away.

‘Get out of here!’ she said, the gun sight steady and pointing at his chest. ‘The next time you try that little act, I’ll kill you. Now get back into your room and stay in there.’

Bleck drew in a long, deep breath.

‘Okay, baby,’ he said. ‘Watch out! I’ll fix you for this! Make no mistake about that!’

‘Run away, you cheap masher,’ Ginny said.

Bleck went into the bedroom and shut the door. He was shaking with rage. If she imagined, after this, she was going to get her share of the money when the payoff came, she was mistaken, he thought as he got into his bed.

He’d fix her! He’d teach her to throw a gun on him!

She and that bum Kitson! He’d fix them both!

When they got the money from the truck, he’d put a slug through Kitson’s head, and as for her — well, that depended.

He suddenly grinned viciously in the darkness.

Seven hundred and fifty thousand bucks was a lot better than two hundred and fifty thousand. He lay for a long time in the darkness, planning what he would do with the money.

Maybe, he decided suddenly, it might be an idea to get rid of Gypo too — to make a clean sweep of them all.

A million was better than seven hundred and fifty thousand.

Talk about the world in your pocket!

With a million in cash, a man was a king!