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“Crooks seem to prefer Rolls-Royces,” observed William, jotting down the latest number plate as another Silver Cloud purred by.
“And not last year’s model,” remarked Danny.
“Nothing more than vulgar status symbols to show their place in the criminal pecking order,” snarled Lamont.
William took a sip of water, but still ignored the last of the ham sandwiches. He was wondering if his heart could beat any faster, when the taxi reappeared and, moments later, pulled off the road to join them. Jackie took over binocular duty, while the cab driver joined them in the car.
“Did you pick up any worthwhile information about your passenger?” was Lamont’s first question to the driver.
“He’s a banker, but I couldn’t find out which bank. His accent would suggest he’s from the Middle East. I slowed down as I passed you, so the photographer could get some decent shots. I can tell you, my taxi’s back windows have never been so clean. Just like you see in films.”
“How long did it take you to get from the gates to the front door of the house?”
“One minute and forty seconds, but I didn’t hurry, so you could knock at least twenty seconds off that.”
“And the guests’ cars, are they parked in the driveway outside the house?”
“No, sir, in a paddock behind the conservatory. To judge from the noise that was coming from there, I think the drivers are having a party of their own.”
“But they won’t be drinking. And we can be sure there will be one or two of the heavy brigade among them, whose driving skills aren’t the reason they’re here tonight. Well done, constable. Get back to the station, but hang about, because we might need some back-up later.”
“I hope so, sir,” he said, causing them all to laugh.
“Nine guests accounted for,” said Jackie, as another large car swept past them.
Lamont watched as the final guest pulled up outside the gatehouse, and the driver presented his invitation. He kept the binoculars trained on the car until it could no longer be seen.
“A full house,” he said, before picking up his radio to bring the commander up to date. Next, he briefed the inspector in charge of the squad cars, and finally DC Adaja, who was still sweeping the platform while he waited for the next train. “Now let’s concentrate on how we get past the gatehouse,” he said. “The guard looked to me like a professional, and you can be sure he has plenty of bells and whistles in case of an emergency, so we’ll have to take him out before he realizes that, unlike Cinderella, we don’t have an invitation to the ball.”
“When are you thinking of moving, sir?” asked William.
“Just after ten. That should give them more than enough time to finish dinner and be sampling the desserts before we move in.”
“Their just desserts?” said Jackie. Both men groaned.
William spent the next hour repeatedly glancing at his watch, but it didn’t make the minute hand move any faster.
Just before ten, Lamont announced over the radio, “Stay alert, people.” Not that William was sure how much more alert he could be. “I’ll be giving the order to move in about five minutes.” And he would have done so, if the radio hadn’t started crackling.
“What the hell are you playing at, Adaja?”
“I thought you ought to know, sir. Ten scantily dressed young women arrived on the last train from London, commandeered all three of our cabs, and are on their way to Limpton Hall.”
“Radio the drivers and tell them to go slowly through the gates. That will give the squad cars an opportunity to follow them in, which will solve one of our biggest problems.”
“Understood, sir. They should be passing you in about ten minutes.”
The superintendent’s next call was to the commander. He listened to the latest news with interest, and his next command took Lamont by surprise. “Put the operation back by at least an hour, Bruce.”
“Why, sir?”
“Because then you’ll catch them with their trousers down.”
13
“Have you ever fancied yourself as a madam?”
“Oh no, sir,” said Jackie. “That would be above and beyond the call of duty.”
