The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1198 by Angharad Copyright © 2010 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

The back door was locked which was a little unusual while we were about. I walked back to the front door and used my key to unlock the door, which creaked a little indicative of a need for some lubrication. I closed it as quietly as I could, the ancient oak still did a wonderful job in keeping the house and the outside world apart, and although it was probably a couple of hundred years old and weighed half a ton, it was in very good condition. Hardwoods like oak don’t suffer from things like woodworm anything like as much as softer pines.

I was tempted to call out but didn’t. We had pissed off the gang again, and unless they were all under lock and key, there might be further unwelcome interactions with them. I’d also heard of chief bandits running their empires from prison cells, perhaps not quite as Noel Coward did in The (“You were only supposed to blow the bloody doors off”) Italian Job; but you get the idea.

I stood still for a moment, and all I could hear was the ticking of the grandfather clock in the lounge. I walked further into the house and voices were coming from upstairs. I crept up the stairs walking on the edges of the steps to try and avoid any creaking from them. I paused to listen and heard Jim’s voice yelling in pain. I cursed myself for not having brought a weapon with me.

I wondered what had happened to Henry, Stella and Jenny. Perhaps they were all prisoners while Jim was being tortured. I heard him yell and swear, and I cringed. I don’t do pain well if at all, and others suffering makes me feel sick.

I crept to the top of the stairs and the screams–okay, yells–were coming from the bathroom, I paused outside the door readying myself to kick and punch as hard as I could. The door opened and I swung a wild punch at–Henry? Thankfully he ducked and I missed.

“I’m going to cross you off my Christmas card list, young lady.”

“I could hear the yells of pain from Jim, I wasn’t sure who was doing what to him.”

“Stella is taking off the tape, if you remember he was swathed in the stuff. Alas it’s also giving him a Brazilian, and I don’t think he’s too happy about it.”

I winced, “No, I shouldn’t think he is. Shall I make us all a nice cuppa?”

“Where did you dash off to?” asked Henry.

“I followed the motorbike.”

“It was long gone, wasn’t it?”

“It would have been if they’d gone on by themselves, but that white delivery van was obviously the one that was used to get Jim into the building, presumably in a box or sack or some other container. Then it set off ahead of the bike. However, I had a hunch that they would try and hide the bike and what better method than in the back of a lorry. It also gave the riders somewhere to take off their leathers.”

“You didn’t catch them did you?”

“The police did, I called them and told them I thought there was illegal immigrants on board. They were stopped and the bikers took off again so I phoned ahead for the police to stop them, there was also a possibility of firearms at the lorry, so I advised the police and they were all over the place like a rash. The helicopter was following the bikers, so I hope they got them.”

“Unless they went into an underground car park or something similar.”

“The equipment they have these days is amazing and it will still pick up infra-red through one layer of concrete, besides by then, the police on the ground will be closing in too and blocking all the exits.”

“Okay, my daughter-in-law is a regular genius.”

“Thank you, kind sir, recognition at last.” I did a mock curtsey. Jim yelled again and we both sniggered. “Poor bugger,” I said and Henry nodded.

“I’m making tea, how long are you going to be?” I called through to the bathroom.

“Nearly finished his waxing–about ten minutes,” Stella laughed back, “You did say full body, didn’t you Jim?” He squealed like a rat in a trap and I ran down stairs.

They emerged about ten or twelve minutes later, Jim looking red and sore in the places not covered by Simon’s bathrobe. He acknowledged me.

“How did they manage to catch you, I thought you were very aware of risk?” I asked the awkward question first.

“I hailed a cab; it was one of theirs. Two men got in beside me holding guns. Discretion became the better part of valour.”

“When I was a kid,” interjected Stella, “I could never understand what it had to do with velvet curtains.”

We all looked at her, but it was Henry who voiced the collective, “Eh?”

“Well, you know, discretion is the better part of velour,” she explained and we all groaned.

“The only joke there, Stella, is why you find it funny,” I suggested. She poked out her tongue at me and blew a raspberry. Stella is always so mature in her behaviour, like a good cheese.

I poured the teas and as we drank them, I brought the others up to date. Jim was quite impressed by the actions of a mere woman and said so. Stella came alongside me and suggested he was hung like a horse, my glare showed that I wasn’t the appropriate person to tell that to. She fawned over him, unaware that he would be resistant to her charms.

The local plod arrived and spoiled the party. They wanted to know this and that and we gave statements. While we were doing so Henry made a phone call. One of the copper’s mobiles went off and after answering it, they were a bit more circumspect and withdrew after just my statement and that of Jim, who suggested he was taken prisoner for a ransom, which the bank paid in fake money and bonds.

We both showed feigned surprise when the police suggested it was the same gang we’d been battling the week before. After they left, I asked Henry who he’d called. He shrugged, but when I persisted he shrugged again and said, “The Home Secretary, who else?”

“You have friends in low places,” I said quietly.

“Absolutely, remember I am a banker, so we know all the demons in hell and the most vile sort of monster, a cabinet minister who will have sold their soul long since in their craving for power.”

“A Faustian pact.”

“Yes, but this time the devil is the junior partner in wickedness.”

“I’d never thought of it that way round,” I admitted.

“Oh yes, politicians could teach Old Nick, quite a few tricks in despicableness and venality.”

“Damn, I have to go and get the girls,” I said looking at my watch.

“I’ll go and get them. You see if you find a few of Simon’s thing to fit Major Beck before I return with them. I don’t want them seeing naked bodies, it might give them the wrong idea.” With that, he picked up his keys and went to get them.