The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1063 by Angharad Copyright © 2010 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

Part of me just wanted to get out to the waste bin by the bank and do the drop. However, if I thought that creep was watching me, as well as half the Hampshire Constabulary, I wanted to look like a lady–by that I meant someone of status and elegance. I brushed my hair, checked my makeup and my clothes–I’d exchanged the jeans for a free flowing skirt and a matching jacket. Finally I sprayed some perfume on myself and grabbed my bag. I took the bag of money from the courier, it was all cling filmed together, piles of fifty pound notes–five thousand of them. They’d sealed them in such a way as to be amenable to shoving into a bin, and they were in a black drawstring carrier bag.

I walked to my car and drove into town, I was told to park a short walk from the bank, to go into the shop next door, buy a newspaper and then throw the bag in the bin and put the newspaper over it as casually as I could.

My shoes clomped as I walked nervously up the street, I went into the shop, bought an Echo and pretended to read it, then as I got to the bank I tipped the bag of money in it and threw in the opened newspaper. I then walked on. I knew the police were watching, so I went on to the public loo and dashed inside. The skirt and jacket were reversible, in a different colour. I wrapped a scarf around my hair and pulled on a pair of sun glasses, then went back towards the bank, my handbag inside a cheap cotton shopping bag. I hoped I looked very different.

I stepped aside for a scruffy bag-lady who smelt like last week’s fish pie, and who swore at me in an incoherent way. I watched her lumber past and go towards the bin. My heart was in my mouth. Was a police trap going to be spoilt by some dirty old crone?

She abused some more people near the bank and picked up some fag ends from the gutter, then went to the bin. I froze in horror, she was going to take the bag. In my almost torpid state I saw something I hadn’t noticed before, she had on a pair of relatively new trainers on her feet. She was the pick up and probably a man, not a woman.

I shook myself, she was digging in the bin but walked on without taking much if anything out of it. Was this a recce? She moved on, swearing at people and I noticed at least two men stiffen then relax.

She knew it was there, when would it be collected? I went back to my car and sat with the engine running. I was there for half an hour and it was getting very warm. Then I saw the dark van emerge, driving slowly down the street behind me. It rang some bells with Billie’s description. This could be the hit.

It cruised up to the bank and the next minute, something was thrown out of it on the one side and someone slipped out of the near side and grabbed the bin, then it accelerated away from the area. I drove as quickly as I could behind it.

The item jettisoned was Julie, who was staggering about in a daze. I pulled up alongside her and shouted at her to get in. She did, and I screamed off after the van.

“Are you alright, flower?”

“No, it was horrible, they threatened to kill me.”

“You’re safe now,” I commented accelerating after the van.

“That’s their van, Mummy, why are you following it?”

“I have some unfinished business with them.”

“I don’t, Mummy.”

“You can stay in the car, then.”

The van headed for the motorway, which was when I spotted the police helicopter, high up in the sky. Behind me appeared a rather powerful BMW which I suspected was an unmarked pursuit car. I let it come past me, but kept on the tail of the van which was now speeding well above the legal limit.

A police car appeared behind me with blue lights flashing, he signalled for me to pull over. I decided to comply.

“Excuse me, madam, but did you know you were exceeding the speed limit?”

“Was I officer? In which case you were too, even more than I was because you caught me up.”

“Ah but I’m allowed to in the pursuit of my duty.”

“Are you? How nice. Well it’s been lovely talking to you.” I slammed my foot down and sped off. I knew it was likely to be filmed and charges could be made against me, but I was prepared to take the risk. I decided they were pulling me over to keep me out of the hunt. I wasn’t going to play.

Of course, he came after us and I quite happily led him out to the motorway, where the helicopter was circling ahead. I hammered towards Southampton, which was where I felt they were going. Julie sat quietly, her knuckles white with tension.

In the distance I spotted the dark van, the BMW was right behind it and looked powerful enough to stay there–that was until they threw the waste bin out of the van, which bounced once and took out the windscreen of the police car which then swerved and hit a truck, a wheel flying off it, meaning an end to its participation in the hunt.

We managed to avoid the debris, although it was touch and go at one point, and I suspect a few more shunts occurred. I had to swerve first one way then the other to avoid a car in front.

The police car which had been chasing me no longer appeared in the rear view mirror, so I presumed he’d either been damaged or stopped to help clear up the mess. I knew more were likely to appear at the next junction, but I kept going shadowing the van.

I removed my headscarf, hoping I looked slightly different yet again. The two litres of turbo charged diesel engine were likely to be able to stay with a Ford transit, so we kept it in sight.

Sure enough at the next junction a pursuit car appeared, a Jaguar this time and he went screaming after the van, this time the van seemed to throw some paint at them and it splattered across the windscreen and the powerful Jag crashed into the barrier and ground to a halt.

“Why are we following them, Mummy?”

“Somebody has to.” I replied wondering how we were going to stop them. The road ahead seemed to clear of traffic and I formed a plan. I drew level with the van and saw the window was open on the near side. I dropped back and made Julie put on my scarf, so they didn’t see her until we were right up with them. Then we pulled level and I opened my window, pulled the pin on my powder fire extinguisher and lobbed in through their open window, I immediately dropped back and changed lanes as I watched the van swerve, and drive across the carriageways before hurtling up the bank and flipping over on its side.

A police car was hammering up behind us in the distance and I drove on to the next junction and left the motorway taking us back to Portsmouth by the back roads.

I knew the police wouldn’t be too happy with me, but I did sort of even things out somewhat–I also thought I’d better get Henry to bring his counsel with him to the house. It was going to be a less than pleasant evening.