The Great Train Robery by Crichton, Michael

Barlow let him drop to the floor. He unwound the rope from his neck, removed the two five-pound notes from the snakesman’s pocket, and slipped away into the street. Clean Willy’s body lay huddled in a corner and did not move. Many minutes passed before the first of the children reemerged, and approached the corpse cautiously. Then the children stole the snakesman’s shoes, and all his clothing, and scampered away.

Chapter 35

Plucking the Pigeon

Sitting in the third-floor room of the accommodation house with Agar, Pierce finished his cigar and sat up in his chair. “We are very lucky,” he said finally.

“Lucky? Lucky to have jacks on our nancy five days before the pull?”

“Yes, lucky,” Pierce said. “What if Willy blew?’ He’d tell them we knocked over the London Bridge Terminus.”

“I doubt he’d blow so much, right off. He’d likely tickle them for a bigger push.” An informant was in the habit of letting out information bit by bit, with a bribe from the police at each step.

“Yes,” Pierce said, “but we must take the chance that he did. Now, that’s why we are lucky.”

“Where’s the luck, then?” Agar said.

“In the fact that London Bridge is the only station in the city with two lines operating from it. The South Eastern, and the London & Greenwich.”

“Aye, that’s so,” Agar said, with a puzzled look.

“We need a bone nose to blow on us,” Pierce said.

“You giving the crushers a slum?”

“They must have something to keep them busy,” Pierce said. “In five days’ time, we’ll pull the peters on that train, and I don’t want the crushers around to watch.”

“Where do you want them?”

“I was thinking of Greenwich,” Pierce said. “It would be pleasant if they were in Greenwich.”

“So you’re needing a bone nose to pass them the slang.”

“Yes,” Pierce said.

Agar thought for a moment. “There’s a dolly-mop, Lucinda, in Seven Dials. They say she knows one or two miltonians— dabs it up with them whenever they pinch her, which is often, seeing as how they like the dabbing.”

“No,” Pierce said. “They wouldn’t believe a woman; it’ll look like a feed to them.”

“Well, there’s Black Dick, the turfite. Know him? He’s a Jew, to be found about the Queen’s Crown of an evening.”

“I know him,” Pierce nodded. “Black Dick’s a lushington, too fond of his gin. I need a true bone nose, a man of the family.”

“A man of the family? Then Chokee Bill will do you proper.”

“Chokee Bill? That old mick?”

Agar nodded. “Aye, he’s a lag, did a stretch in Newgate. But not for long.”

“Oh, yes?” Pierce was suddenly interested. A shortened prison sentence often implied that the man had made a deal to turn nose, to become an informer. “Got his ticket-of-leave early, did he?”

“Uncommon early,” Agar said. “And the crushers gave him his broker’s license quick-like, too. Very odd, seeing as he’s a mick.” Pawnbrokers were licensed by the police, who shared the usual prejudice against Irishmen.

“So he’s in the uncle trade now?” Pierce said.

“Aye,” Agar said. “But they say he deals barkers now and again. And they say he’s a blower.”

Pierce considered this at length, and finally nodded. “Where is Bill now?”

“His uncling shop is in Battersea, on Ridgeby Way.”

“I’ll see him now,” Pierce said, getting to his feet. “I’ll have a go at plucking the pigeon.”

“Don’t make it too easy,” Agar warned.

Pierce smiled. “It will take all their best efforts.” He went to the door.

“Here, now,” Agar called to him, with a sudden thought. “It just came to me mind: what’s there for a flash pull in Greenwich, of all places?”

“That,” Pierce said, “is the very question the crushers will be asking themselves.”

“But is there a pull?”

“Of course.”

“A flash pull?”

“Of course.”

“But what is it, then?”

Pierce shook his head. He grinned at Agar’s perplexed look and left the room.

When Pierce came out of the accommodation house, it was twilight. He immediately saw the two crushers lurking at opposite corners of the street. He made a show of looking nervously about, then walked to the end of the block, where he hailed a cab.

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