“Once more,” Pierce said, “just to be certain.”
Later in the afternoon, Clean Willy was given the lay.
“It’ll be tonight,” Pierce said. “Once it’s dark, you’ll go up to London Bridge, and get onto the roof of the station. That a problem?”
Clean Willy shook his head. “What then?”
“When you’re on the roof, cross to a window that is broken. You’ll see it; it’s the window to the dispatcher’s office. Little window, barely a foot square.”
“What then?”
“Get into the office.”
“Through the window?”
“Yes.”
“What then?”
“Then you will see a cabinet, painted green, mounted on the wall.” Pierce looked at the little snakesman. “You’ll have to stand on a chair to reach it. Be very quiet; there’s a jack posted outside the office, on the steps.”
Clean Willy frowned.
“Unlock the cabinet,” Pierce said, “with this key.” He nodded to Agar, who gave Willy the first of the picklocks. “Unlock the cabinet, and open it up, and wait.”
“What for?”
“Around ten-thirty, there’ll be a bit of a shindy. A soak will be coming into the station to chat up the jack.”
“What then?”
“Then you unlock the main door to the office, using this key here”— Agar gave him the second key— “and then you wait.”
“What for?”
“For eleven-thirty, or thereabouts, when the jack goes to the W.C. Then, Agar comes up the steps, through the door you’ve unlocked, and he makes his waxes. He leaves, and you lock the first door right away. By now, the jack is back from the loo. You lock the cabinets, put the chair back, and go out the window, quiet-like.”
“That’s the lay?” Clean Willy said doubtfully.
“That’s the lay.”
“You popped me out of Newgate for this?” Clean Willy said. “This is no shakes, to knock over a deadlurk.”
“It’s a deadlurk with a jack posted at the door, and it’s quiet, you’ll have to be quiet-like, all the time.”
Clean Willy grinned. “Those keys mean a sharp vamp. You’ve planned.”
“Just do the lay,” Pierce said, “and quiet.”
“Piece of cake,” Clean Willy said.
“Keep those dubs handy,” Agar said, pointing to the keys, “and have the doors ready and open when I come in, or it’s nommus for all of us, and we’re likely ribbed by the crusher.”
“Don’t want to be nibbed,” Willy said.
“Then look sharp, and be ready.”
Clean Willy nodded “What’s for dinner?” he said.
Chapter 25
Breaking the Drum
On the evening of January 9th, a characteristic London “pea soup” fog, heavily mixed with soot, blanketed the town. Clean Willy Williams, easing down Tooley Street, one eye to the facade of London Bridge Station, was not sure he liked the fog. It made his movements on the ground less noticeable, but it was so dense that he could not see the second story of the terminus building, and he was worried about access to the roof. It wouldn’t do to make the climb halfway, only to discover it was a dead end.
But Clean Willy knew a lot about the way buildings were constructed, and after an hour of maneuvering around the station he found his spot. By climbing onto a porter’s luggage cart, he was able to jump to a drainpipe, and from there to the sill of the second-story windows. Here a lip of stone ran the length of the second story; he inched along it until he reached a corner in the facade. Then he climbed up the corner, his back to the wall, in the same way that he had escaped from Newgate Prison. He would leave marks, of course; in those days nearly every downtown London building was soot-covered, and Clean Willy’s climb left an odd pattern of whitish scrapes going up the corner.
By eight o’clock at night he was standing on the broad roof of the terminus. The main portion of the station was roofed in slate; over the tracks the roofing was glass, and he avoided that. Clean Willy weighed sixty-eight pounds, but he was heavy enough to break the glass roofing.
Moving cautiously through the fog, he edged around the building until he found the broken window Pierce had mentioned. Looking in, he saw the dispatcher’s office. He was surprised to notice that it was in some disarray, as if there had been a struggle in the office during the day and the damage only partially corrected.