Nothing Ventured(57)

“Any questions?” asked Jackie when she’d come to the end of her briefing.

A hand shot up. “Which of the two teams is more likely to be needed?”

“We won’t know until the last moment. There are two exits from the house, here and here, where the buses will be hidden,” said Jackie, pointing to the map. “But we have no way of knowing which one they’ll take. If for any reason we don’t manage to intercept them, we’ve got a helicopter on standby.”

“I should stress,” interjected Lamont, “that while you’re waiting, you can’t listen to the radio, or even chat among yourselves, because the slightest sound will alert them. Just be sure you’re not the idiot who frightens them off.”

“What sort of vehicle are you expecting them to be in, sir?”

“Because of the size of the painting they plan to steal,” said Lamont, “it’s likely to be a large van. They know exactly what they’re looking for, and you can be sure they’ll have worked out their escape route to the inch. Which is why we need so many of you surrounding the target.”

“Are they likely to be armed?”

“We think that’s unlikely,” said Lamont. “You can get life for armed robbery, while for burglary you rarely get more than six years. But just to be on the safe side, we’ll have a small squad of armed police in place, but well hidden.”

“Any intel on when they might strike?” asked a young constable.

“Not before six, and it won’t be after midnight,” said Lamont without further explanation. A long silence followed.

“If there are no more questions,” said Jackie, “let’s adjourn for lunch. Try and get some kip this afternoon, and make sure you go to the toilet before you get on the bus. The first bus will leave at four ten p.m. The second will follow twenty minutes later, so we avoid looking like a convoy.”

“And once you’re in place,” said Lamont, “don’t forget that silence is our most effective weapon.”

14:08 CET

Monti drove William and Hawksby straight to the commander’s dockside hotel in Civitavecchia, and they all went to the room reserved by Monti on the third floor. The first thing Hawksby did was to check the sight lines from the window. He had a clear view of the port, and wouldn’t need binoculars to keep an eye on the vessel Carter had chartered. Monti had even supplied a copy of the company’s brochure in English, with a photograph of a shipwreck on the cover to tempt potential customers. What it didn’t record was their failure rate over the years. But then the crew were pirates at best, while the customers who chartered the ship were often romantics, chasing a dream. But not on this occasion.

William was about to take a shower, until Monti said, “Don’t bother. Try not to forget you’re a deckhand. We don’t want you smelling like a lily.”

Hawksby now understood why the lieutenant hadn’t shaved for some days, and stank of garlic.

Monti opened a large trunk that he’d left in the room earlier and produced outfits for the role they were about to play: two pairs of well-worn jeans; two unmarked T-shirts; two sweaters, one blue, one gray; and two pairs of trainers without a brand logo. Everything looked and was second-hand.

“Let’s hope I’ve got your size right,” said Monti, as William began to pull on a pair of jeans.

“And what about me?” asked Hawksby.

“You’ll be just fine, sir,” said Monti. “If you stroll along the dock dressed as you are, everyone will assume you’re the owner of a large yacht, not that you’re keeping a lookout for a couple of villains.”

“I wish.”

“We’ll have to leave you now, sir. We should be on board before Carter arrives.”

“Do I have any backup should their plans suddenly change?”

“You’ll only see them if you need them,” said Monti. “But I can assure you this isn’t the only room that we’ve booked.”

“Chapeau,” said Hawksby, touching his forehead.

After Monti and William had left, the commander returned to his lookout point and watched the two young officers as they walked along the quayside and boarded the ship before reporting to the chief deckhand. How he wished he was twenty years younger.

13:08 GMT

Lamont and Jackie had joined the team in the canteen for lunch, where the babble of expectant chatter revealed how eager they all were to get on with the job.

At four o’clock, after a final briefing from DS Roycroft, Lamont divided the young officers into two groups, before they began to board the two buses. At the same time, a squad of the special firearms division was setting out from Scotland Yard with orders to contact DCI Lamont the moment they had reached the target.

At eleven minutes past four, the first bus left the car park, drove up the ramp, and out onto the high street. It kept a steady pace, always remaining on the inside lane, and never once breaking the speed limit. At 4:33, the second bus maneuvered its way onto the main thoroughfare, where they were held up by early commuters on their way home from work, while they were on their way to work.

Lamont had been taken by surprise when Superintendent Wall told him that he would be accompanying them on the mission. Lamont accepted that if Wall was hoping to add the prefix chief to his rank, “Operation Blue Period” would look good on his service record. Lamont had to admit, if only to himself, that the thought of promotion had also crossed his mind.