Nothing Ventured(40)

“What about Angie?”

“If she comes out, I’ll honk twice. Three times if she spots you, in which case start running, because we’ll have to get out of town sharpish. Sometimes you only get one chance.”

“No pressure,” said William as he grabbed the camera from the back seat, got out of the car, and crossed the road, eyes darting in every direction. He walked cautiously toward number 91. No sign of anyone, and Carter had left the gate open. He nipped in behind the Volvo, and moved deftly toward the shed. He couldn’t have been visible from the front window for more than a few seconds. He tried the door but it was locked, then he heard a car coming down the road and ducked behind the shed until it had turned the corner.

Looking through the small window of the shed, he could make out a wooden bench and a chair. Some silver filings were scattered over the surface of the bench but it was so dark he could hardly make out anything else. Could he risk using the flash? He pressed the camera up against the window and fired off a whole roll of film, but he couldn’t be sure if any of the pictures would come out.

He removed the film and was reloading the camera when he heard a car horn honk once. Carter, not Angie. He looked up to see Jackie driving past, and quickly dropped down behind the shed just as Carter reached the gate clutching a Sainsbury’s bag. William heard the front door open and close. A man returning home almost always goes straight to the lavatory, a process that takes at least three minutes. William waited for thirty seconds before making his move: twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty. He stood up, moved swiftly across the lawn, around the far side of the Volvo, and out of the front gate. He didn’t run, and he didn’t look back.

A hundred yards down the road he could see Jackie waiting for him in the car, engine running. No sooner had he closed the passenger door than she drove off.

“Do you think he saw me?” asked William, as they headed back to the hotel.

“No. I kept an eye on the front door, and there was no sign of either of them. So, did you find out what he gets up to in that shed?”

“It was so dark in there I could hardly see anything, but I took a roll of photos, so we’ll just have to wait and see how they come out.”



* * *



“We’ll have to move out of here tomorrow,” William reminded her as they drove into the hotel car park.

“I haven’t forgotten,” said Jackie. “I’ve spotted a B and B that’s quite nearby, but unfortunately it has no view of the house so we’ll be spending most of our time in the car.”

Once they were back in their room, Jackie called Lamont and brought him up to date. William sat by the window, peering through the binoculars while munching the latest supply of ginger biscuits. Carter had returned to the shed, where William could just see an arm moving up and down, working on something … but what?

“What did Lamont have to say?” he asked when Jackie eventually came off the phone.

“To stay put for now. Meanwhile, you keep an eye on the house while I go and get the film developed.”

William waited for her to leave before he sat down on the end of the bed and rang Beth’s flat. No reply. She couldn’t be back from work. He wondered if he should risk calling her at the gallery, but decided against it.

He returned to the window and once again focused in on the shed. Carter was bent over the table, arm still pumping away. He didn’t return to the house until it was dark, when William lost sight of him. It was almost six o’clock before Jackie bounced in, a look of triumph on her face.

“He’s stamping out coins from a mold, just as your father suggested.”

“What type of coins?”

“Other than they’re silver, I’ve no idea. You’re going to have to get hold of one tomorrow. Do you know how to pick a lock?”

“No, that must have been one of the induction courses I missed.”

“Then I’ll have to do it.”

“Without a search warrant?”

“Lamont’s determined to find out who Carter’s backer is, and what they’re up to. The last thing he said before he put the phone down was, ‘I’m sick of catching minnows.’”

“That’s all very well,” said William, “but how do we go about it?”

“That’s tomorrow’s problem,” said Jackie. “For now, you go down and carry out the night shift while I get some kip. Whatever you do, don’t fall asleep.”

William reluctantly left the hotel, but not before grabbing a couple of Mars bars and a bottle of water from the fridge. Surely Mrs. Walters couldn’t object to that. He could hear her saying, “Tap water in future, constable.” He drove back into town, turned into Mulberry Avenue, and parked behind a van, from where he had a clear view of Carter’s front door.

He noticed a red telephone box at the other end of the street and cursed. He still hadn’t spoken to Beth. He should have been taking her to the James Bond film this evening and keeping an eye on Faulkner, instead of freezing in an uncomfortable car and staring at a house that was in pitch darkness. 007 somehow managed to save the world from a notorious criminal in a couple of hours, while William tried to stay awake keeping an eye on a local villain. He turned on the radio. The General Synod of the Church of England had been debating whether women should be ordained. The thin end of the wedge, he could hear his father saying. “They’ll want to be bishops next.” The news was followed by a program about the recent proliferation of the tsetse fly in sub-Saharan Africa. He fell asleep, only waking up when he heard the pips announcing the five o’clock news.