Then you will want to spare her any further unpleasantness. open it for them, Peter. Let them have it. It's not our money, Mary screamed. It's the bank's. Give it to them, And she began to urinate in little spurts that soaked through the skirts of her dressing-gown.
Cartwright went to the green Chatwood steel door of the vault and drew his watch chain from his fob pocket with the key dangling on the end of it. Anger and humiliation seethed in him as he tumbled the combination and turned the key. He stood back while De Kok came forward to do the same. Then, while all their attention was on the vault door as it swung open, he glanced across at his desk. He kept the pistol in the top right-hand drawer. It was a .455 service Webley and there was always a round under the hammer.
By now his outrage at the treatment of his wife outweighed his terror.
Get the money! the leader with the pale eyes ordered and three of the robbers, carrying canvas kit bags, hurried into the vault.
My wife, Cartwright said, I must see to her. Nobody interfered as he lifted her to her feet and helped her to the desk. Tenderly he settled her into the chair, keeping up a flow of reassurance that covered the soft scrape as he opened the drawer.
He lifted the pistol and slipped it into the pocket of his masonic apron.
Then he backed away, leaving his wife at the desk. He had both hands raised to shoulder level in an attitude of surrender as he rejoined De Kok against the far wall. Both women were out of the line of his fire, but he waited until the three robbers re-emerged from the vault, each of them lugging a kitbag stuffed with wads of banknotes. Again all attention was on those bulging canvas bags, and Cartwright reached into the pocket of his white leather apron, brought out the pistol and his first shot crashed across the room in a long spurt of blue gunsmoke. He kept firing as the Luger bullets smashed into his body, and he was flung back against the wall. He fired until the hammer of the Webley snapped down on a spent cartridge, but his last bullet had gone into the concrete floor between his feet, and he was dead as he slumped down the bullet-pocked wall and huddled at the foot of it, with his blood puddling under him.
SHOOT-OUT AT RAND BANK TWO DEAD ROBBERY LINKED TO O B The letters OB caught Sarah Stander's eye on the placard outside the news-stand. She went in and bought candy for the children, as she always did, and then, as an apparent afterthought, she took a copy of the newspaper.
She crossed to the park and while the two toddlers romped on the lawn and she absently rocked the pram. with her foot to keep the baby quiet, she read the front-page article avidly.
Mr Peter Cartwright, the manager of a bank in Foraisburg, was last night shot dead while attempting to prevent a robbery at the bank's premises. One of the robbers was also shot dead, while a second man was seriously wounded and taken into custody by the police.
First estimates are that the four remaining robbers fled with cash in excess of 5,100,000.
police spokesman said this morning that preliminary interrogation of the wounded robber had established definite involvement by members of the Ossewa Brandwag in the outrage.
The Minister of the Interior, Colonel Blaine Malcomess, announced from his office in the House of Parliament in Cape Town that he had ordered an enquiry into the subversive activities of the O B and that any member of the public with information to offer should contact the nearest police station or telephone the following numbers: Johannesburg 78I 4, Cape Town 42444. The minister gave the assurance that all information would be treated in the strictest confidence.
She sat for almost an hour, trying to reach a decision, torn between loyalty to her family and her patriotic duty to her own people.
She was confused, terribly confused. Was it right to blow up trains and rob banks and kill innocent people in the name of freedom and justice? Would she be a traitoress if she tried to save her husband and her babies?
And what about those other innocents who were certain to die if Manfred De La Rey were allowed to continue? She could readily imagine the strife and chaos that would result if the entire country were to be plunged into civil war. She looked at the newspaper again and memorized the telephone number.
She stood up, called the children and wheeled the pram across the road. As she reached the far sidewalk and started towards the post office, she noticed old Mr Oberholster, the postmaster, watching her from the window of his office. She knew that he was one of them, she had seen him in OB I uniform when he came to the cottage to pick Roelf up for one of their meetings.
immediately she felt panicky with guilt. All telephone calls went through the post office exchange. Oberholster might easily listen in on her conversation, or the operator might recognize her voice. She turned away and pushed the pram down towards the butcher as though that had originally been her intention. She bought two pounds of pork chops, Roelf's favourite dinner, and hurried back to the cottage, eager to be off the street, to be alone so she could think.
As she let herself into the kitchen she heard men's voices in the front room that Roelf used as a study. He was back early from the university today, and then her pulse quickened as she heard Manfred's voice. She felt guilty and disloyal that he could still have that effect upon her. Manfred had not been to the cottage for almost three weeks, and she realized that she had missed him and thought about him almost every day with feelings that oscillated from bitter hatred and resentment to tremulous physical arousal.
She began to prepare dinner for Roelf and the children, but the men's voices carried quite clearly from the front room. Occasionally Sarah paused to listen, and once she heard Manie say, While I was in Jo'burg, I So he had been in Johannesburg. The bank robbery had taken place the night before last, time enough since then for him to come down by road or on the mail train. She thought about the two men who had been killed. She had read in the paper that the bank manager had a pregnant wife and two small children. She wondered how the woman felt now, with her husband gone, and three little ones to care for.
Then she was distracted by the men's voices again, and she paused to listen. What she heard filled her with foreboding, Where will this thing end? she brooded. Oh I wish they would stop. I wish Manie would go away and leave us alone, But the thought of that filled her with a sense of hopelessness.
Shasa flew down alone from the Witwatersrand in the Rapide and landed at Youngsfield after dark. He drove directly from the airfield to Blaine's home in Newlands Avenue.
Tara opened the door to him, her face lighting when she realized it was him. Oh, darling, I missed you! They kissed rapturously until Blaine's voice made them start apart.
Look here, Shasa, I don't like to interrupt anything important, but when you can spare a moment I'd like to hear your report. Tara was blushing furiously. Daddy, you were spying on us! Public display, my dear. No spying necessary. Come along, Shasa. He led the way to his study and waved Shasa to a chair.
Drink? I'd like a ginger ale, sir. How are the mighty fallen! Blaine poured a little of his hoarded whisky for himself and handed Shasa the ginger ale. Now what is it that you couldn't talk about on the telephone? We just might have had a bit of luck at last, sir. On Blaine's orders Shasa had flown up to Johannesburg as soon as the Fordsburg bank robbery had been linked to the Ossewa Brandwag. He had been at Marshall Square, the headquarters of the CID, while the captured bank robber was being interrogated. As you know, the fellow is an official on the Crown Mines. Thys Lourens is his name, and sure enough he was on our list of known OB members. Not one of the big fish, however, but quite a formidable-looking chap, although I'd expect him to be a bit of a boozer. I told the police inspector that you wanted answers No rough stuff. Blaine frowned.
No, sir. It wasn't necessary. Lourens wasn't as tough as he looked. We only had to point out that the penalty for armed robbery and accessory to murder was the gallows, but that we were prepared to do a deal and he started to gush. I gave you most of what he told us when I telephoned you this morning. Yes. Go on. Then he gave us the names of the other men involved in the robbery, that is, three of them. We were able to make the arrests before I left Johannesburg. However, the leader of the gang was a man he had only met three days before the