Morgan laughed harshly. ‘No need to keep that up with me, big man. When Jesse and I met him in Manchester a couple of weeks back it was taking him all his time to stay on his feet.’ ‘So?’
‘The way I see it he’s on the way out. It takes a good man to run a thing like this, a strong man.’
T know,’ Rogan said softly. ‘That’s why I’m here.’ ‘Who the hell says so?’ Jesse Fletcher filled the doorway, the ugly scarred face flushed in anger. ‘Who says we even need you? Maybe Morgan and me got our own plans.’
‘O’More told me you were working for wages,” Rogan said. ‘Five grand apiece. Right?’ ‘That’s what the contract says.’
‘Then tell the hired help here to shut his big mouth.’ Fletcher took a convulsive step forward and Morgan said sharply, ‘Hold your fire, Jesse, fighting among ourselves won’t get us anywhere.’ He turned to Rogan and shrugged. ‘Jesse gets annoyed easily. It’s understandable. Since that one meeting in Manchester we haven’t clapped eyes on O’More. Hannah is the only link we’ve got with him. Even her uncle doesn’t know where he’s staying.’
‘Caution’s his second name,’ Rogan said. ‘No harm in that. You’ll see him at the right time.’ He stood up. ‘What about this plan of yours?’
‘I’ve got a map in the sitting room,’ Morgan said. ‘Let’s
go through.’
Outside the rain had stopped and the sky had cleared a little over the mountains as evening fell. It was dark in the living room, shadows gathering in the corners, and Hannah lit an oil lamp and placed it in the centre of the old mahogany table. Morgan took a large scale map of the area from a drawer and unfolded it.
‘Here’s Scardale,’ he said. ‘Five miles north of Amble-side below Scardale Fell. Ambleside to Windermere, five miles, then straight into Kendal. Rigg Station’s five miles south.’
‘About twenty-five miles in all.’
‘That’s it. Rigg’s only a way station. The sort of place that has a stationmaster-cum-porter. Busy during the season when all the holiday trains pass through to the j Lake District. Like a grave at this time of the year.’ t!”‘What about this Friday afternoon mail train? Can a
passenger board it at Rigg?’
Morgan shook his head. ‘It isn’t a scheduled stop any more. The railways have been doing a lot of reorganization during the past couple of years and Rigg Station’s just the sort of place where the axe has fallen. In fact the stationmaster, if you can call him that, is more of a caretaker than anything else. He doesn’t even live on the premises any more. Comes out from Kendal each day.’
‘What about the armoured van? From what Colum said, it sounds like a tough nut to crack.’
‘Just a bloody great steel box on wheels, the sort of thing the Central Banks are using all the time these days, and they’ve got a radio telephone hook-up to County Police Headquarters. They call in every half hour.’
‘Where’s the weak link, Rigg Station?”
Morgan shook his head. ‘The van never arrives more than five minutes before the train. There’s an unloading ramp at the side of the station and they back up to it and sit tight till the train comes.’
‘You’re sure about that?’
‘Ask Hannah. She sat outside in the car the other
Friday and the week before that, Fletcher and I saw everything through glasses from a wood on the hillside. H you’re thinking about taking them there, forget it. There wouldn’t be time and the train’s got a radio telephone as well. They all have since someone took them for a couple of million the other year.’
‘A tough one.’
Morgan nodded. ‘The old man seemed to think we could simply ambush the van on a quiet stretch of the road between Rigg and Kendal which shows you how much he’s behind the times.’
‘And you have a better idea?’
Fletcher laughed harshly. ‘The best thing you ever heard of, Jack. Go on, tell him, Harry.’
‘We’ve got an old Morris van out in the barn,’ Morgan said. ‘Now the way I see it, only one thing would tempt those two guards to break the rules and get out of their van-a bad road accident.’