Chapter 9
The Old Man had gone to his club, the sort of place where people like him liked to have hushed conversations with other people like him.
"Is it just me or have you noticed something funny in these surveillance reports on our stamp man, Ginge?" Gallagher threw him a glance.
Sandy stared resolutely down at his monthly expenses form but said, "There are two cafes in that place and he's only ever visited one of them and it’s the furthest from his house. Unless he's fallen out with the owners, I think he's deliberately avoiding the 'Pot and Kettle'."
Gally squeezed the tea bag and threw it in the bin. "So, you'd agree that's where we should start then?"
Sandy swivelled his head over his shoulder and replied, "It would be foolish not to."
Later, they sat in a back office of the Farralland building as Sandy briefed the crew of Dave T, Billy, Mick and Tich. Gally thought if there'd been one more they could have formed a band.
"Right, we need two in the liveried Morris LD and two as hikers. The GPO Investigations have given us keys to open the one post box in the village; it's only a small wall type so we won't have much mail to sift through if we need to. The public phone is almost alongside so we need to put a listening device in it and monitor it from the van as and when we can. Make sure you sign out the appropriate gear from Stan across the road in Harrington's. The hikers can use the Anglia as transport and we all need to sign out some five oh two radios, one for each vehicle, and two spares for obs purposes which Billy will cover. Accommodation is in local B and Bs, Dave T and Tich, as the hikers, will be in Radfordley, the next place up, and the rest of us in the village itself so the van becomes an acceptable feature. Photos and maps are in your packages and there'll be no firearms, pick helves only, although Gally and I will be carrying, just in case."
Billy, the senior ranking military man stood up and removed the blanket from a board on an easel. "Right, the target's house is here in a short lane that faces these woods across the field. We're going to put an obs point in that wood, probably about here." He tapped the map. "We'll sort the fine details out later but basically on this job rank has its privileges." A short groan went up from the others. "You conveniently forget I did most of the last one and it wasn't pleasant, I can tell you.
"Anyway, cover stories are on your sheets in the packages you've been given but, in short, me and Mick in the van are returning from Bristol on a removal job but we're on hold for a bigger one in the Cotswolds, so we're touting around the area for small stuff to keep us ticking over until we get word. Dave T and Tich are walking the local trails, Sandy's looking round the area for a holiday home and Gally is an agricultural rep. Me and Mick will head down there straight away and make ourselves known and that's why we're first in for the kit issue."
Gallagher pitched in. "Look, I know it's not the normal number of people for this sort of job and we might appear a bit short-handed but I'm counting on the fact they know they've been surveilled. They've gone out of their way to encourage it, as far as I'm concerned. Their aim was to arrive at the point where the target is seen as no longer being of any significance. I'm pretty sure our man will have noted the expected interest in him and I'm fairly certain he'll have recognised the sudden lack of it now Box have withdrawn.
"What I'm betting on is his resuming normal play because they know they're on a timer. So, we slip in, subtly make people aware of our cover stories, and become as invisible as possible in daily village life by simply becoming a temporary piece of local furniture. Essentially, we go about our business by not being there often, apart from the van boys."
They filed out into the corridor; Sandy calling after them: "And if anyone needs an advance on expenses, see me across the way before we set off."
Bringing up the rear, Gally's eye was taken to an old wooden sign propped precariously in a corner by the exit door. Ornate in its day, it bore the words, 'Farrall and' but on closer inspection, he discovered what came next had long ago been defaced in a wild attempt to remove it, obviously with something sharp and dangerous judging by the holes and gouges. The readable remnant made him think the word had been 'Nugent'. As he moved it to a more secure position, he suspected such a passionate and frenzied retribution could only be for an act of treachery so foul a woman had to be the cause.
The village wasn't one of the most popular in the area from a tourist point of view, there wasn't much to see but its position just off a series of public rights of way made it a handy place for tired walkers in need of some refreshment. A post box, public phone, village shop and a pub at the far edge completed the metropolis that was Bardley.
Late afternoon, Gally and Sandy arrived at their bed and breakfast accommodation separately. The place was billed as 'luxury' based on the sink in the room, the tea making facilities and the little black and white television sat on the dresser. The bed seemed comfy. Sandy had a similar room but his television was pink. They shared a bathroom and toilet. Playing affable, social strangers they went for a pint.
In the pub, they sat at a table by the window. "Cheers," Gallagher said as he raised his glass. Sandy wiped his mouth and returned his pint to the beer mat. "What's your overall plan then, Gally?"
"Well, I thought we'd give it three days then play it by ear and if he makes a move sooner rather than later so much the better. All his mail is still being intercepted and I think they'll be aware that might happen so I'm counting on him having to make personal contact with someone. I think our postman in London will be posting the extras he's collecting on to a third party. It's a big assumption, I know, but it's the easiest thing to do, doesn't involve any sneaking around which might attract unwanted attention. Maybe we can identify the contact from this end."
He sipped his drink before continuing. "After that, it's a simple case of who is he communicating with and how's he doing it?" He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "There has to be someone else involved, Ginge. From the photos, he's too fat to be a proper assassin. You need someone a bit more nimble for that.”