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“Yes, they were handed in to Yates, and he double-checked with the post office. It seems they could only have come from the stolen bags, given the post marks.”
“So either they were tossing letters out of the van, which doesn’t make sense, or they opened the bags somewhere in the area.” James tapped a finger to his lips.
“The wind was pretty strong yesterday,” Hartridge said.
“Maybe, but it was raining as well, and they ended up in a woman from Holland Park’s garden hedge.” Layman’s voice was thoughtful.
“So perhaps they were in the general Kensington and Chelsea borough,” James said. “Or they have a safe place where they stopped on the way from the grab to look through the loot.” Either one would help move the case forward, if they found it.
Layman acknowledged his point with a nod. “It does help to narrow down our search. But I agree that just because they stopped to go through the bags in Holland Park doesn’t mean they stayed there.”
“Best case scenario, one of them is from this area,” James said. “That’s why they’re so comfortable here.”
“That would be handy,” Layman said. “But either way, let’s hope they lie low for a bit now. Hopefully even crooks take a day off.”
“Can I take some of these envelopes up to my room to stuff in the gaps in the window?” Sarah asked. “There’s a constant stream of cold air coming in.”
“What?” Pete looked up from the pile of money orders and frowned.
“The windows. They rattle like anything in this wind and they aren’t exactly well-fitted,” Sarah said. “Unless you’ve got extra blankets to give me?”
“Me, too,” Jerry said. “Bit of paper scrunched up in the frame might improve things.”
“Fine,” Pete said. “Make sure the envelopes are empty, though.”
“Sure,” Sarah said easily. “I’ll take them from the rubbish pile.”
They had gone through one of the bags already, and from the looks of things, Pete and Robby were pleased with their haul.
Robby came up, pushing aside the plastic sheeting and watching them all for a moment. “Tea’s in ten minutes,” he said. “You two can go up and I’ll bring you something after we’re done downstairs.”
He turned and walked back down, and Sarah picked up the bag of empty envelopes and headed for the stairs.
Jerry shuffled after her, still unsteady on his feet, although he definitely looked a bit better. He’d stopped asking about the dog, but she thought it still worried him. He lifted his head and looked toward the window any time a dog barked outside.
Pete trailed them, waiting until Jerry was on the stairs before he closed the door and locked them in.
Sarah hefted the rubbish bag a little higher on her shoulder and then set it down on the top landing.
“The question is, do I write a note on them before I drop them out the window?” she murmured.
“There’s clever, and then there’s being too clever by half,” Jerry said. “All you need is one to land in the garden, and have that grumpy old cow pick it up, and we’re dead.”
She sighed, because he was right. She had no control of where the letters blew to when she dropped them out the window, so she couldn’t tip her hand.
“Look for the ones that have a nice clear post mark,” Jerry said. “That’ll be useful because they’re all post marked yesterday, see?”
She nodded, and they went through the bag and found three envelopes each that had nice dark post marks.
Jerry was going to throw his to the right, she would throw hers to the left, and then they’d have to hope someone found them.
Unlike Jerry, she’d been conscious when she’d been brought into the house, and knew that the dining room was on the opposite side to their bedrooms, so no one should see the letters blowing away in the wind.
“Hopefully the rain doesn’t completely ruin them,” Jerry said as he went to his tiny room.
“We’ll keep trying,” Sarah said. “Until someone finally puts it together.”
“Except most people will think it’s just a bit of rubbish, won’t they?” Jerry said. “Still, you never know.
