If Tomorrow Comes by Sidney Sheldon

Jeff’s voice: “I think I’ll change my mind about that coffee. Is it still hot?”

Tracy’s voice: “Uh-huh.”

Cooper and the detectives were staring in disbelief.

“I—I don’t understand,” one of the detectives stammered.

Cooper snapped, “What’s the police emergency number?”

“Twenty-two-twenty-two-twenty-two.”

Cooper hurried over to the phone and dialed.

Jeff’s voice on the tape recorder was saying, “You know, I really think their coffee is better than ours. I wonder how they do it.”

Cooper screamed into the phone, “This is Daniel Cooper. Get hold of Inspector van Duren. Tell him Whitney and Stevens have disappeared. Have him check the garage and see if their truck is gone. I’m on my way to the bank!” He slammed down the receiver.

Tracy’s voice was saying, “Have you ever had coffee brewed with eggshells in it? It’s really quite—”

Cooper was out the door.

Inspector van Duren said, “It’s all right. The truck has left their garage. They’re on their way here.”

Van Duren, Cooper, and two detectives were at a police command post on the roof of a building across from the Amro Bank.

The inspector said, “They probably decided to move up their plans when they learned they were being bugged, but relax, my friend. Look.” He pushed Cooper toward the wide-angle telescope on the roof. On the street below, a man dressed in janitor’s clothes was meticulously polishing the brass name-plate of the bank…a street cleaner was sweeping the streets…a newspaper vendor stood on a corner…three repairmen were at work. All were equipped with miniature walkie-talkies.

Van Duren spoke into his walkie-talkie. “Point A?”

The janitor said, “I read you, Inspector.”

“Point B?”

“You’re coming in, sir.” This from the street cleaner.

“Point C?”

The news vendor looked up and nodded.

“Point D?”

The repairmen stopped their work, and one of them spoke into the walkie-talkie. “Everything’s ready here, sir.”

The inspector turned to Cooper. “Don’t worry. The gold is still safely in the bank. The only way they can get their hands on it is to come for it. The moment they enter the bank, both ends of the street will be barricaded. There’s no way they can escape.” He consulted his watch. “The truck should be in sight any moment now.”

Inside the bank, the tension was growing. The employees had been briefed, and the guards ordered to help load the gold into the armored truck when it arrived. Everyone was to cooperate fully.

The disguised detectives outside the bank kept working, surreptitiously watching the street for a sign of the truck.

On the roof, Inspector van Duren asked, for the tenth time, “Any sign of the damned truck yet?”

“Nee.”

Detective Constable Witkamp looked at his watch. “They’re thirteen goddamn minutes overdue. If they—”

The walkie-talkie crackled into life. “Inspector! The truck just came into sight! It’s crossing Rozengracht, heading for the bank. You should be able to see it from the roof in a minute.”

The air was suddenly charged with electricity.

Inspector van Duren spoke rapidly into the walkie-talkie. “Attention, all units. The fish are in the net. Let them swim in.”

A gray armored truck moved to the entrance of the bank and stopped. As Cooper and Van Duren watched, two men wearing the uniforms of security guards got out of the truck and walked into the bank.

“Where is she? Where’s Tracy Whitney?” Daniel Cooper spoke aloud.

“It doesn’t matter,” Inspector van Duren assured him. “She won’t be far from the gold.”

And even if she is, Daniel Cooper thought, it’s not important. The tapes are going to convict her.

Nervous employees helped the two uniformed men load the gold bullion from the vault onto dollies and wheel them out to the armored truck. Cooper and Van Duren watched the distant figures from the roof across the street.

The loading took eight minutes. When the back of the truck was locked, and the two men started to climb into the front seat, Inspector van Duren yelled into his walkie-talkie, “Vlug! Pas op! All units close in! Close in!”

Pandemonium erupted. The janitor, the news vendor, the workers in overalls, and a swarm of other detectives raced to the armored truck and surrounded it, guns drawn. The street was cordoned off from all traffic in either direction.

Pages: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143 144 145 146 147 148 149 150 151 152 153 154 155 156 157 158 159 160 161 162 163 164 165 166 167 168 169 170

Leave a Reply 0

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *