Danny went to the far end of the vault as John started to put the money into a pillowcase, making sure that the soon-to-be-worthless fivers were in a separate one. It was his intention to pass them off to Silas on the grounds they were more common than tens and twenties and therefore easier to use or pass on. His dad had wanted him to give them to Danny as well, but he’d been a long-time friend, and John knew he was not a man to cross, or you’d pay the price.
They forced open one drawer after another and the hammering sound of metal against metal echoed round the vault like a chorus of musical chime bells. John and Danny were screaming and shouting with delight as the contents spilled out of the drawers. Some were filled with valuable jewellery, others with silver cutlery and Georgian tea services, along with more trays filled with cash. They were working at a frenzied pace as they stuffed the pillowcases full with a treasure trove of looted goods. They then handed them to Silas who looked inside and rubbed his hands together in delight.
Danny raised his arm and John stopped.
‘I got a tray filled with bags of what looks like heroin and cocaine,’ Danny said.
‘Leave it,’ John replied.
‘Why? It’ll be worth a fortune on the streets, probably more than the cash we got so far.’
‘I don’t deal in shit like that. It ruins lives and kills young kids, so do as I say and leave it,’ John said, making it clear he meant every word.
Bradfield was on a high. He remained calm as he told the arrest teams to move out of City Road, but to stay in the backstreets away from the bank and café until he gave the order for them to take up position to block off the possible escape routes. He also called the officers watching the Bentleys’ place and Danny Mitcham’s flat and told them to come over and support the arrest teams. His mind was racing as he wondered if he had covered every eventuality, but he could think of nothing that could go wrong. He knew that Operation Hawk was on its way to being a huge success and was now eager to arrest John Bentley and his team.
‘Are you OK, Mr Dunbar? It’ll soon be over.’
‘I’m very nervous, Mr Bradfield, and somewhat worried as they’ll obviously have hammers in their hands.’
‘Don’t worry — all I need you to do is open the vault as quietly as possible and then step to one side and let me and my arrest team do our job.’
Bradfield phoned the shoe shop to tell the officers there that the suspects were now in the bank vault. He spoke with DC Stanley who said the officer in the shoe-shop basement using a listening device could hear the sound of metal being hammered.
Bradfield turned to Spencer Gibbs. ‘We’re going over to the bank in fifteen minutes, Spence...’
‘Why not go now if they’re in the vault?’
‘I don’t want to burst their bubble of joy quite yet. When I give the order you get your team in the shoe shop to go out and cover the back alleyway in case any of ’em try to escape from the rear of the café. I’ve also got backup teams in unmarked cars at each end of the alleyway to block the route off in case they try to get out in the van.’
‘How are you getting into the bank?’
‘We’re going in by the front door with Dunbar.’
‘We?’ Gibbs asked, having thought he was to cover the rear alleyway.
‘I want you with me on the arrests, Spence. Kath and four other officers will be with us as backup, and if the suspects kick off I’m carrying,’ he said, making reference to the revolver he had in a shoulder holster under his jacket.
‘What about Cliff Bentley? He’ll see us going in.’
‘He’ll be taken care of. The two officers dressed like tramps will go to the top of the car park and take him out as we move in.’
‘What if he raises the alarm before they get to him?’
‘Chance I have to take, but even then where are the bastards going to run to? They won’t try and escape empty-handed. We’ve got them, Spence, we fuckin’ got ’em like rats in a barrel!’ Bradfield said and patted Spencer’s back.
Clifford felt his teeth chattering with the cold as he looked down on the street below from his vantage point. Everything was quiet and there was an eeriness about the stillness of the night that troubled him. He knew via the walkie-talkie that they had broken into the vault and soon they’d all be rich beyond their wildest dreams. He sat back against the wall and began to think about what had been worrying him earlier. It seemed strange that he’d not seen one single police patrol car or a uniform officer pounding the beat all night. He’d seen a few patrol cars the previous night and knew that when David had been lookout a tramp had been arrested by a uniform officer and a paddy wagon had turned up. Clifford began to wonder if uniform patrols had been told to stay away from the area, or was it just pure coincidence?
Inside the vault John and Danny were still breaking open the deposit boxes. Silas was sweating heavily as he crawled to the café cellar with pillowcases of money and valuables. He then took these upstairs and placed them by the back door to be loaded into the van when they were all ready to leave. Although they were exhausted the euphoria and exhilaration at what they were about to get away with was pumping the blood through their veins and keeping them going.
Silas went back into the tunnel to collect more loot and stood up so that his head was sticking up through the hole in the vault floor.
‘Is nearly 4 a.m. and sun will rise in hour or so.’
Danny looked at John. ‘We must have amassed a fortune so far. Maybe we should call it a night.’
John bent down to look at the heavy combination-dial safe that was embedded into the wall and floor between the rows of deposit drawers.
‘We open this — it’s gotta have somethin’ of big value inside. I’d reckon a load of cash, or really expensive jewellery.’
Silas shook his head. ‘Come on, John, is not good idea. I agree with Danny, we have plenty and need to load up the van.’
‘Use the torch to cut it open,’ John barked at Danny.
‘I’m happy with what we got so let’s just get out of here,’ Danny said impatiently.
John was livid. ‘What’s your fucking problem? I brought you in on this job and I’m running the show, so do as I say.’
‘You want what’s in it then you do it,’ Danny shouted.
‘I fuckin’ will,’ John said and hauled the oxyacetylene rig over to the safe. He asked Danny to turn it on and light it for him, which against his better judgement he did.
‘You help Silas load the van and come back for the last few sacks and whatever I find in here,’ John said.
Still troubled by the lack of police patrols Clifford started to walk round the car park. It was a near full moon so he had a good view. He looked at all the buildings and windows overlooking the bank and café to see if there were any lights on and noticed the derelict flats that were to one side and slightly set back from the car park. He could see that all except one flat, on the second floor, were boarded up but there were no lights on in the premises. Using his binoculars he looked closely at the net curtain and suddenly saw it move slightly but there was no sign of anyone peering. It crossed his mind that it may just have been the draught, but the night was still with little or no breeze. Through the binoculars he saw two tramps come from the rear alleyway of the flats. He recognized one as the man he’d kicked and knew from the way they moved at speed towards the car park they were not drunks. Fearing the worst he pressed the walkie-talkie communication switch.
‘Get the fuck out of there now! The rozzers are on to us,’ he whispered frantically.
Clifford moved around the wall of the car park and looked over to see one tramp hurriedly enter the building’s stairwell and the other run up the car ramp.